mineganoe - Tumblr blog

mineganoe · 13 hours ago

Text

Dorm Life

TripleS Yooyeon X Male Reader

Tags : Senior Yooyeon, College Life, Co-ed Dormitory, Noona, Slight Femdom, Kinky, Sensual, Romance, Kissing, Teasing, Reverse Cowgirl Words : 6,537 Words

“You’re kidding, right? You’re actually living here?” Her voice cut through the hallway like a knife, sharp and incredulous. You froze mid-step, your duffel bag slung over one shoulder, and turned to see her standing there. Yooyeon. Senior. Legend. And, apparently, your new neighbor.

She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe of her room, her dark hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed as she looked you up and down, and you could feel the weight of her judgment pressing down on you. “This is the girls’ wing,” she said, her tone dripping with disbelief. “What are you even doing here?”

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “Uh… I was assigned this room. They said it was co-ed now?”

She let out a short, humorless laugh. “Co-ed? Since when?” She shook her head, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like “typical administration.” Then she straightened up, fixing you with a look that made you feel about two inches tall. “Well, don’t get any ideas, freshman. This isn’t some rom-com where we all become best friends and fall in love. Got it?”

You nodded quickly, though your cheeks burned. “Got it.”

It hadn’t been the warmest welcome, but then again, you hadn’t expected one. Moving into a dorm that was mostly occupied by girls was already strange enough—especially when you were the only guy on the floor. The first few days were awkward, to say the least. You kept your head down, avoided eye contact, and tried to make yourself as invisible as possible. But Yooyeon? She was impossible to ignore.

She was everywhere. In the common room, lounging on the couch with her laptop. In the kitchen, making coffee at ungodly hours of the morning. Even in the hallway, always seeming to appear just as you were leaving your room. And every time, she had that same look on her face—like she was sizing you up, waiting for you to slip up.

But then, slowly, things started to change.

It happened one evening when you were in the kitchen, fumbling with the coffee machine. You’d been up late studying, and your brain was too fried to figure out why it wasn’t working. That’s when she walked in, wearing an oversized hoodie and her hair tied up in a messy bun. She didn’t say anything at first, just watched you struggle for a moment before sighing and stepping forward.

“Here,” she said, brushing past you to press a button on the machine. It whirred to life instantly. “You have to turn it on first.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling like an idiot. “Thanks.”

She shrugged, leaning back against the counter. “Don’t mention it. You’re not the first clueless freshman I’ve had to rescue.”

You laughed nervously, unsure if she was joking or not. But then she smiled—just a small one, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. “I’m Yooyeon, by the way,” she said. “In case you didn’t know.”

“I know,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Her eyebrows shot up, and you quickly added, “I mean, everyone knows who you are.”

She smirked, crossing her arms. “Oh, do they now? And what exactly do they say about me?”

You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “Just… that you’re kind of intimidating.”

She laughed at that, a genuine laugh that made her seem less like the untouchable senior and more like… well, a person. “Good,” she said. “That means I’m doing my job right.”

From that night on, things between you shifted. She still teased you mercilessly—calling you “freshman” like it was your actual name—but there was a warmth to it now, a playfulness that hadn’t been there before. You found yourself looking forward to running into her, even if it meant enduring her sarcastic comments.

And then came the invitation.

It was late one evening when she knocked on your door. You opened it to find her standing there, holding a bottle of soju in one hand and a bag of snacks in the other. “Hey,” she said casually, like this was a completely normal thing for her to do. “I’m bored. Wanna hang out?”

You blinked at her, caught off guard. “Uh… sure?”

She grinned, stepping past you into your room without waiting for an invitation. “Good. I figured you could use a break from whatever it is you’re doing in here.” She glanced around your room, taking in the mess of textbooks and empty coffee cups. “Studying, I assume?”

“Yeah,” you said, closing the door behind her. “Midterms are coming up.”

She rolled her eyes, setting the soju and snacks down on your desk. “Relax, freshman. You’ve got plenty of time to stress later. Tonight, we drink.”

You hesitated, unsure if this was some kind of test. But then she shot you a look that said don’t argue with me, and you quickly grabbed two cups from the shelf.

The next hour passed in a blur of laughter and lighthearted banter. Yooyeon was surprisingly easy to talk to once she let her guard down, and you found yourself opening up to her in ways you hadn’t expected. She told you about her own struggles as a freshman, how she’d felt just as lost and out of place as you did now. And in return, you shared your own fears and insecurities—about school, about being the only guy in the dorm, about everything.

At some point, the conversation turned to relationships. “So,” she said, leaning back in her chair and giving you a sly smile. “Any lucky girl back home?”

You shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Nope. Just me.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your reaction. “Really? No one? Not even a crush?”

You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “Not really.”

She studied you for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “You know,” she said slowly, “you’re not as boring as I thought you’d be.”

You laughed nervously, unsure how to take that. “Thanks… I think?”

She smirked, reaching for the soju bottle to refill your cup. “Don’t get too excited, freshman. I’m just saying there might be hope for you yet.”

The tension between you was palpable now, though neither of you acknowledged it outright. Every glance, every brush of your hands as you passed the bottle back and forth—it all felt charged with something unspoken. And when she finally stood up to leave, swaying slightly from the alcohol, you couldn’t help but notice how close she was standing.

“Well,” she said, her voice softer now, “this was fun. We should do it again sometime.”

You nodded, your heart racing. “Yeah. Definitely.”

She smiled—a real smile this time—and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. Then she turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing there with your thoughts swirling.

As you lay in bed that night, replaying the evening in your mind, one thing was clear: Yooyeon wasn’t just your senior or your neighbor anymore. She was something else entirely.

And you had no idea what to do about it.

The days that followed felt like a strange, exciting dream—one you were afraid to wake up from.

Yooyeon wasn’t just teasing you in the hallway anymore. She was texting you. At first, it was snarky comments like “Don’t forget to breathe, freshman. Heard it helps with studying.” or “Tell your laundry it has until tomorrow or I’m burning it myself.” But soon, the sarcasm came bundled with pictures of her late-night ramen experiments, selfies in ridiculous facial masks, or once—a blurry shot of a cat outside the dorm window with the caption “This thing has better fashion sense than you.”

You were starting to believe Yooyeon had two personalities: the sarcastic ice queen everyone knew… and the surprisingly soft, mischievous, and slightly chaotic girl you were starting to see more and more of.

And then, one Friday night, it all escalated.

You’d just finished your last class when your phone buzzed.

Yooyeon: Emergency. Bring snacks. And don’t look like a lost puppy this time.

You smiled despite yourself, grabbed the pack of chips and a convenience store bento you’d stashed, and made your way to her room.

When you knocked, the door opened a crack. Yooyeon’s face peeked out, eyes narrowed. “Password?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Password,” she repeated, deadpan. “You wanna enter Queen Yooyeon’s chambers, you better come prepared.”

“Uh… co-ed dorm life rules?”

She snorted, swinging the door open. “Wrong. But I’m starving, so I’ll allow it.”

You stepped inside and nearly dropped the food.

She was in pajamas—actual silk ones, the color of champagne, her hair loosely tied up with a few strands framing her face. She looked like she’d stepped out of a K-drama. Or a dream.

“What?” she said, cocking her head. “You’re staring.”

“I’m just… surprised you even own pajamas that fancy.”

“Please. Just because I can destroy egos doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate satin.”

She flopped onto her bed and patted the spot beside her. “C’mon, sit. We’ve got a drama to roast.”

You hesitated, then sat. Close, but not too close. She immediately scooted nearer and grabbed the chips from your hand.

Over the next hour, the two of you tore into the overly dramatic plotlines of a cheesy romance show. Yooyeon was ruthless, offering brutal one-liners every time a character confessed their love under the rain. At one point, she turned to you mid-sip of her soda and said, “If you ever do that to me, I swear I’ll throw an umbrella at your head.”

You grinned. “So you’re saying there’s a scenario where I’d be confessing?”

She raised a brow. “You wish, freshman.”

But her smile lingered.

Halfway through episode four, she nudged your shoulder with hers. “Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking…” Her voice dropped a little. “You’re not too bad. For someone who thought a rice cooker needed Wi-Fi to work.”

“That was once!” you groaned, covering your face. “And I was sleep-deprived!”

Yooyeon giggled. Actually giggled.

You peeked through your fingers to find her looking at you with something softer than amusement. “Seriously,” she said, “I like hanging out with you. You’re… easy to be around.”

Your heart flipped.

“I mean,” she added quickly, “you’re still a clueless freshman. But a tolerable one.”

“Oh, how flattering,” you muttered.

She smirked. “You love it.”

“Maybe,” you shot back, gathering your nerve, “but I like you more when you're like this.”

“Like what?”

“Not biting my head off every time I walk past.”

She leaned in just a little. “You saying I’m cute when I’m not being a menace?”

You blinked. “I mean… yeah?”

For the briefest moment, her smirk faltered. “Careful,” she said quietly, “you’re dangerously close to flirting.”

“Maybe I am.”

Silence.

She looked at you, head tilted, expression unreadable. Then—slowly—she reached out and flicked your forehead.

“Ow!”

“Too slow,” she said, grinning. “You should’ve kissed me when you had the chance.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Wait—what?!”

But she was already off the bed, walking toward the door with that maddening sway in her step.

“Yooyeon—!”

She turned, silhouetted by the hall light. “Relax, freshman. I said should’ve. Doesn’t mean you won’t get another shot.”

She winked.

And then she was gone.

You sat there in stunned silence, heart thudding, hand still pressed to your forehead. It hurt. But not as much as wanting her to come back and finish what she started.

A Few Days Later…

You hadn’t seen Yooyeon since that night. Not in the hallway. Not in the kitchen. Not even her sarcastic texts lighting up your phone.

You weren’t sure whether to be relieved… or disappointed.

Just as you were beginning to wonder if you had misread the entire situation, a knock came at your door.

It was late.

You opened it to find her standing there—barefoot, hoodie over pajamas, her hair a sleepy mess of curls. In her hand was a single banana milk, sweating with condensation.

“Miss me?” she asked, deadpan.

You blinked. “Uh… what?”

“I was bored,” she said, pushing past you without asking, like always. “And I ran out of milk. So I thought, why not visit my favorite freshman?”

You closed the door behind her. “You ignored me for three days.”

“I was testing you,” she said bluntly, plopping onto your bed like she owned it. “Wanted to see if you’d come crawling.”

“I didn’t.”

“I noticed.” She sipped her drink. “So I decided I’d crawl instead.”

You snorted. “That’s not crawling. That’s barging in.”

She looked at you sideways, her eyes narrowing. “Same difference.”

There was something different about her tonight. The sarcasm was still there—but behind it, a low current of vulnerability. Or maybe… frustration?

“Yooyeon—”

“Noona.”

You paused. “…What?”

She leaned back, arms crossed behind her head. “Call me Noona. You’ve been avoiding it like it’s some forbidden spell.”

You looked at her, trying to figure out if she was joking.

She wasn’t.

“Okay,” you said, amused. “Noona.”

The effect was instant.

Her lips curled, eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. “Aww. You do care.”

“Don’t push it.”

“You just called me Noona,” she sing-songed, kicking her feet. “That means you like me.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what it means.”

She sat up suddenly, eyes locked on yours. “But do you?”

The room went still.

“What?”

“Do you like me?” she repeated, voice softer now. No sarcasm. No games.

You opened your mouth, but she held up a finger.

“Wait. Don’t answer that yet,” she said, standing up. “Let me rephrase.”

She stepped closer, close enough that you could feel the heat off her skin. Her eyes, which always seemed to flicker between cold and mocking, were now dark and unreadable.

“Have you thought about kissing me?” she asked.

You swallowed hard. “Yooyeon—”

“Noona.”

“…Noona.”

She smiled. “Well?”

“…Yeah,” you admitted quietly. “I have.”

She blinked, just once, and you could see her composure waver for a second—just a crack. Then she leaned forward, hands on either side of you against the wall.

“Then what are you waiting for, freshman?”

You didn’t answer.

You just leaned in.

And this time, you didn’t miss your chance.

Her lips were soft, her breath slightly sweet with banana milk. She kissed you like she’d been thinking about it for weeks—maybe months—slow and teasing, like she was daring you to keep up.

And just when your hand reached her waist, she pulled back.

“See?” she whispered, breath warm against your lips. “Told you I was worth chasing.”

“I’m not the one chasing,” you murmured back.

She raised a brow. “Oh? You think I am?”

You just smiled.

She scoffed, dramatic, but you could see the blush rising on her cheeks.

“I hate you,” she muttered, turning to hide her face.

“Sure, Noona.”

“Ugh. You’re so annoying.”

“You kissed me first.”

“You kissed me better.” she threw back.

You grinned, unable to stop.

Yooyeon—the girl who warned you not to fall in love, who declared this wasn’t a rom-com—was now sitting on your bed, pink-cheeked and flustered, as if the very idea of liking you was driving her insane.

And you?

You were loving every second of it.

Your eyes flutter open, the soft morning light filtering through the blinds. For a moment, you’re disoriented, your mind still foggy from sleep. Then you feel it—a warm weight on your thigh, a gentle pressure that sends a jolt of awareness through your body. You turn your head slowly, and there she is.

Yooyeon.

Her dark hair spills across your pillow in loose waves, her face relaxed in sleep, her lips slightly parted. Her hand rests on your thigh, her fingers curled just enough to make your skin tingle. The blanket has slipped down to her waist, revealing the curve of her bare shoulder and the hint of a black lace bra strap. Your breath catches as you realize you’re both half-naked, the memory of last night’s drinks and laughter flooding back in fragments.

You shift slightly, and her eyes flutter open. For a moment, she looks just as confused as you feel. Then her gaze locks onto yours, and something shifts. Her eyes darken, her lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. She doesn’t move her hand, but her fingers tighten ever so slightly on your thigh.

“Morning,” she murmurs, her voice husky with sleep.

“Morning,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart is pounding now, the air between you thick with unspoken tension.

She props herself up on one elbow, her hair falling over her shoulder as she leans closer. Her eyes roam over your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your gaze again. “Sleep well?” she asks, her tone teasing.

“Uh… yeah,” you stammer, your mind racing. “You?”

She hums softly, her smile widening. “Better than I have in a while.” Her hand slides up your thigh, just an inch, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “You know,” she says, her voice dropping lower, “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember last night.”

“I remember,” you say quickly, your voice rough. “I remember everything.”

Her smile turns wicked, and she leans in even closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “Good.” Her breath is warm against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Because I’ve been thinking about this since the moment I saw you.”

Before you can respond, her lips are on yours, soft and insistent. The kiss starts slow, almost tentative, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. Her hand moves from your thigh to your chest, her fingers splaying over your skin as she deepens the kiss. You groan softly, your hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her closer until her body is pressed against yours.

She breaks the kiss just long enough to murmur, “You’re trouble, you know that?” before capturing your lips again. Her tongue brushes against yours, and you can’t help but respond in kind, the heat between you building with every passing second.

Her hands roam over your chest, tracing the lines of your muscles before sliding up to tangle in your hair. You pull her even closer, one hand sliding up her back to the clasp of her bra. She gasps into your mouth when you fumble with it, but she doesn’t stop you. Instead, she arches into your touch, her body trembling with anticipation.

The bra falls away, and you break the kiss to look at her. She’s breathtaking, her skin flushed, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Her eyes meet yours, and there’s no mistaking the hunger in them. “Don’t stop,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

You don’t need to be told twice. Your lips find hers again, your hands exploring every inch of her skin. She moans softly, her nails digging into your shoulders as she pulls you closer. The world outside this room ceases to exist—it’s just the two of you, lost in each other.

Her hands slide down your chest, her fingers tracing the waistband of your boxers. She hesitates for a moment, her eyes searching yours for permission. You nod, your breath coming in short gasps as she slips her hand inside. Her touch is electric, sending waves of pleasure through you.

But just as quickly as it started, she pulls back, her chest heaving as she looks at you. “We should… slow down,” she says, though her voice is shaky.

You nod, trying to catch your breath. “Yeah. Yeah, we should.”

She smiles softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “But that doesn’t mean we have to stop,” she murmurs, her hand trailing up your chest again.

You grin, pulling her close once more. “Not a chance.”

Her lips find yours once again, this time with more purpose, the kiss deepening as she presses her body against yours. You can feel her warmth, her heartbeat quickening in time with yours. Everything else fades away—the distant hum of the world outside, the responsibilities of life, the fear of what might happen next. It's just the two of you, lost in this fragile, electric moment.

Her hands slide up your chest again, this time more confident, as if she’s learned every inch of you already. She moves with a fluidity that tells you she’s no stranger to this, to this kind of connection. She pulls back slightly to look at you, her eyes dark and full of that same quiet hunger from before, but there’s something else there too—something raw, unguarded.

“Tell me you want this,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.

You swallow hard, the intensity of the moment crashing down on you. “I want this,” you say, your voice thick with desire. “More than anything.”

Her smile returns, though it’s not the playful grin you’re used to. This one is more tender, almost… vulnerable. “Good,” she murmurs, before lowering her lips to your neck, kissing the sensitive skin just below your ear. Her hands roam, slipping under your shirt, her fingertips brushing against the skin of your stomach, making you shiver.

You can feel your body responding to her, to every touch, every soft whisper, every gentle movement. But there’s still that underlying tension, that unspoken question hanging between you—what does this mean?

Her lips meet yours again, more urgently this time, as if she can sense the hesitation in your mind. Her hands slide lower, caressing the muscles in your back before they find the waistband of your boxers again. This time, she doesn’t hesitate, and neither do you. You lean into her touch, allowing the heat between you to escalate.

“Yooyeon…” you breathe, your hands roaming up her back, feeling the warmth of her skin under your fingertips. “Are you sure?”

She pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, her expression unreadable for a moment. But then she smiles softly, a quiet, reassuring smile, before she presses a kiss to your lips—gentle, yet filled with meaning. “I’ve been sure of this for a while now,” she murmurs against your mouth, her voice low and intimate.

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding as the moment stretches out, fraught with possibility.

“Then… let’s not stop,” you say, the words slipping out before you can think twice. And in that moment, everything else disappears again—there’s only her and you, tangled together, moving in sync, as if this was exactly where you were meant to be all along.

Her hands guide you, leading you closer as she undoes the last of the barriers between you—literally and figuratively. The room fills with the sound of your quickening breath, the soft rustling of sheets, and the thudding of your hearts, beating faster with each passing second.

For a moment, the world feels perfectly still, like time itself has slowed to accommodate this shared moment of closeness.

But then, as her lips trail down your neck, her breath warm against your skin, she pulls back just enough to catch your eye once more. The playful, confident glint is still there, but now it’s softened by something deeper. “You’re still in this, right?” she asks, her voice quieter, almost hesitant for the first time.

You nod, reaching up to cup her cheek, brushing your thumb over her soft skin. “I’m all in,” you say, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. “Are you?”

Her lips curve into a smile, and she leans into your touch, her forehead resting gently against yours. “Yeah,” she whispers, closing her eyes for a moment. “I am.”

And with that, the tension melts away entirely, replaced by the quiet intimacy of two people who, for once, are letting go of all the walls they’ve built up. The rest of the world might be waiting outside this room, but right now, nothing matters more than this moment—this connection between you and Yooyeon.

For now, it's just the two of you, as everything else fades into the background.

Yooyeon shifts above you, her thighs straddling your hips, eyes locked with yours. For a moment, she just sits there, gazing down like she’s trying to memorize every detail of your face—the slope of your cheekbone, the curve of your lips, the hesitation in your eyes. Her fingers trace idle patterns on your chest, deceptively soft, while her expression sharpens with something deeper… something primal.

“You’re too good at this,” she murmurs, her voice low and thick. “All wide-eyed and sweet… but then you say things like ‘I’m all in’ like you mean it.” She tilts her head, smirking. “Makes me wanna ruin you.”

Your breath catches. “Yooyeon—”

“Noona,” she corrects, that smirk deepening as her nails drag gently across your ribs, just enough to make you squirm. “You call me noona now, remember?”

You flush. The word sits heavy in your throat, but the heat in her gaze demands submission. You give in, your voice husky. “…Noona.”

Her eyes flutter at the sound. “God, say that again.”

“Noona,” you repeat, this time with more conviction, and her breath stutters. She leans in, her hair cascading over your shoulders like a curtain, trapping you both in a world of warmth and temptation.

Her lips brush your jaw, trailing a line of fire down your neck. “I like it when you listen,” she whispers, pressing her hips more firmly against yours. “But I think I’d like it even more if you stopped pretending you don’t want this as much as I do.”

“I’m not pretending,” you manage to say, hands gripping her thighs. “You drive me insane, noona.”

“Mmm, good boy,” she purrs against your throat, nipping lightly just above your collarbone. “Then stop holding back.”

You don’t need more permission than that. One hand finds her lower back, guiding her closer as you sit up, your mouth crashing against hers with new urgency. She meets you with equal fervor, fingers buried in your hair, tugging slightly when your teeth graze her bottom lip. She gasps into your mouth and that sound—desperate, breathless, real—only fans the flames higher.

Your other hand slips under the curve of her waist, feeling the heat of her skin and the way her body trembles at your touch. Her bra, long forgotten, lies in the sheets somewhere behind her, and now there’s nothing separating you from the soft warmth of her chest pressing against yours.

She grinds down slowly, deliberately, and you groan, burying your face in the crook of her neck. “You’re torturing me.”

“No,” she breathes, her lips brushing your ear. “This is torture.” And then she stills, completely, her weight pressing down on you but not moving. Her voice is pure mischief. “Say something that’ll make me move again.”

You grit your teeth, frustrated and half-crazed from the tension. You glance up at her with a look that makes her inhale sharply this time. “You’re so cocky, noona,” you whisper, voice like gravel. “But I don’t think you’re ready for what happens when I stop being nice.”

The smile on her lips falters—for just a second. Her pupils dilate. And then: “Prove it.”

It’s a dare.

And you meet it.

You flip her, sudden and fluid, your body pinning hers to the mattress, your hands braced on either side of her head. Her breath hitches at the change in position, but there’s no fear in her eyes—only fire. “Well, well,” she says, her voice breathy. “I guess the puppy has claws.”

“Bared just for you,” you murmur, before kissing her again—deeper this time, rougher. She arches into you, her moan muffled by your mouth, her legs wrapping around your waist in an unspoken challenge.

You trail kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, your tongue flicking across a spot that makes her clutch the sheets. “Right there,” she gasps. “Don’t stop.”

But you do stop—just long enough to whisper into her skin: “Only if you say please, noona.”

She glares at you through half-lidded eyes, but her lips twist in a grin. “You’re playing a dangerous game, freshman.”

You meet her gaze, your breath ragged. “I know. And I’m not planning on losing.”

Then the heat flares again, like a match relit—wild and consuming. Clothes are peeled away between stolen kisses and whispered teases, bare skin meeting bare skin with a desperate kind of reverence.

And just before everything blurs into white heat and motion, she grips your face and pulls you close, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Mine,” she says, biting your lip softly. “You’re mine now.”

Her breath hitches as you flip her onto her back, her dark hair fanning out against the pillow like a silken halo. Her eyes lock onto yours, wide and hungry, as you trail kisses down her neck, each one leaving a faint mark of your claim. She arches into you, her hands gripping your shoulders, nails digging in just enough to make you groan.

“You’re so fucking impatient,” you murmur against her collarbone, your lips brushing her skin as you speak. She shivers, her body trembling beneath you, and you can feel the heat radiating from her.

“And you’re taking too long,” she breathes, her voice a mix of frustration and desire. Her hips buck against yours, and you can feel how wet she is already, the slickness seeping through the thin fabric of her panties.

You smirk, nipping at the delicate skin of her collarbone before moving lower, your lips grazing the swell of her breast. She gasps, her back arching off the bed as you take one taut nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before sucking gently. Her hands fly to your hair, tangling in the strands as she moans, the sound low and throaty.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “You’re going to kill me.”

You chuckle against her skin, your breath hot as you move to her other breast, giving it the same attention. Her fingers tighten in your hair, pulling just enough to send a jolt of pleasure down your spine. You can feel her heart racing beneath your lips, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

��Please,” she whimpers, her voice breaking. “I need you. Now.”

You pull back slightly, meeting her gaze. Her eyes are dark with desire, her lips swollen from your kisses. She looks wrecked already, and you haven’t even started yet.

“Beg for it,” you tease, your voice low and rough.

She glares at you, but there’s no real anger in it. Instead, there’s a hunger that matches your own, a desperation that makes your cock throb.

“Please,” she repeats, her voice softer this time. “Fuck me. I need you inside me.”

Her words send a surge of heat straight to your groin, and you don’t waste another second. You kiss her deeply, your tongue sliding against hers as you reach between her legs, fingers brushing against the soaked fabric of her panties. She moans into your mouth, her hips lifting off the bed as you push the fabric aside, your fingers sliding through her slick folds.

“So wet,” you murmur against her lips, your fingers teasing her entrance. “You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you?”

She nods, her breath coming in short gasps as you slide a finger inside her, curling it just right to make her cry out. Her walls clench around you, tight and hot, and you can’t wait any longer.

You pull your hand away, ignoring her whimper of protest as you strip off your boxers, your cock springing free. She watches you with wide eyes, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as you position yourself between her legs.

“Are you sure?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.

“Yes,” she breathes, her hands reaching for you. “Please.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You guide yourself to her entrance, the tip of your cock pressing against her slick folds. She gasps as you push inside, her walls stretching to accommodate you. You go slow, savoring the way she feels around you, tight and warm and perfect.

“Fuck,” she moans, her head falling back against the pillow as you sink deeper into her. Her nails dig into your back, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you bottom out, your hips pressed against hers.

You give her a moment to adjust, kissing her deeply as you wait for her to relax. When she nods, her hips lifting slightly to meet yours, you start to move, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. She cries out, her legs wrapping around your waist as you set a steady rhythm, each thrust driving you deeper into her.

Her moans fill the room, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You can feel her walls clenching around you, tightening with each thrust as she gets closer to the edge. Her hands roam over your body, nails scraping against your skin as she pulls you closer, desperate for more.

“Harder,” she begs, her voice breaking on the word. “Please.”

You oblige, slamming into her with enough force to make the bed creak beneath you. She screams your name, her body trembling as she clings to you, her nails leaving trails of fire across your back.

“You feel so good,” you growl, your voice rough with desire. “So fucking tight.”

She moans in response, her hips meeting yours with each thrust. You can feel her getting closer, her walls fluttering around you as she teeters on the edge of ecstasy. You reach between you, your thumb finding her clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

“Come for me,” you demand, your voice low and commanding.

She does, her body arching off the bed as she screams your name, her walls clamping down on you like a vice. The sensation is enough to push you over the edge, and with a final thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, your release flooding her as she trembles beneath you.

For a moment, neither of you moves, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high. Then she pulls you down for a kiss, her lips soft and warm against yours.

“Mine,” she whispers against your lips, her voice filled with satisfaction.

You smirk, nipping at her bottom lip before pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. “Yours,” you agree, your voice rough with desire.

But before you can say anything else, she’s pushing you onto your back, straddling your hips with a wicked grin on her face. “My turn,” she purrs, her hands trailing down your chest as she leans down to kiss you again

Yooyeon’s lips curl into a wicked smile as she shifts her weight, her hips grinding against yours in slow, deliberate circles. Her hands slide down your chest, nails lightly scratching your skin, sending shivers up your spine. She leans back, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she positions herself above you, her eyes locking onto yours with a predatory gleam.

“You’re mine,” she purrs, her voice low and sultry, dripping with dominance. “And I’m going to make sure you remember that.”

Before you can respond, she lifts herself slightly, her hand guiding you back inside her with a slow, deliberate motion. You groan as she sinks down onto you, her tight warmth enveloping you completely. She lets out a soft moan, her head tilting back as she begins to move, her hips rising and falling in a rhythm that’s both teasing and intoxicating.

Her hands grip your thighs for balance as she picks up the pace, her body moving with a fluid grace that leaves you breathless. The sight of her above you, her perfect round ass bouncing with every thrust, is almost too much to handle. You reach out to grab her hips, but she slaps your hands away with a playful smirk.

“No,” she says firmly, her voice commanding. “You don’t get to touch. Not yet.”

You groan in frustration, but the way she’s moving—her hips swaying sensually, her body taking control—leaves you powerless to argue. She leans forward slightly, her hands resting on your chest as she rides you harder, her moans growing louder with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with the heavy breaths and soft whimpers escaping her lips.

“You like this, don’t you?” she teases, her voice breathless but still laced with that same cocky confidence. “Being my good boy?”

You nod, unable to form words as the pleasure builds inside you, threatening to overwhelm you. She smirks, clearly enjoying the effect she’s having on you, and leans back again, her hands gripping your thighs as she takes you deeper. Her movements become more erratic, more desperate, as if she’s chasing something just out of reach.

“Fuck,” she moans, her voice trembling with need. “You feel so good inside me.”

Her words send a jolt of heat through you, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge. You try to warn her, your voice strained as you manage to choke out, “Yooyeon… I’m gonna—”

But she cuts you off with a sharp shake of her head, her eyes blazing with determination. “No,” she says firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re not pulling out. I want it all.”

Her words send a thrill through you, but also a pang of panic. “Yooyeon, I—”

“I said no,” she repeats, her voice dropping to a low growl as she slams down onto you harder, forcing a moan from both of you. “You’re mine, and I want every last drop.”

Her words are enough to push you over the edge, and with a strangled groan, you give in, your body shuddering as you release deep inside her. Yooyeon lets out a cry of pleasure, her body tightening around you as she rides out her own climax, her hips grinding against yours in slow, deliberate circles.

For a moment, neither of you moves, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high. Then she leans forward, her hands resting on your chest as she looks down at you with a satisfied smirk.

“Good boy,” she purrs, her voice filled with approval. “You did so well for me.”

You can’t help but laugh breathlessly, your hands finally reaching up to grip her hips as she stays seated on top of you. “You’re impossible,” you say, your voice still rough with desire.

She grins, leaning down to kiss you softly before pulling back slightly. “And yet, you love it,” she teases, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your chest.

You don’t argue with her—you can’t. Because as much as she drives you crazy, there’s no denying the way she makes you feel. And as she shifts slightly, still straddling you with that same confident smirk on her face, you know this is far from over.

“Now,” she says, her voice dropping to a whisper as she leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear. “Let’s see how long you can last this time.”

302 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 7 days ago

Text

Office Desire (Seoyeon)

Synopsis: You are a 21 year old working as Junior Writer at some Digital Agency. Three women, Ms. Saerom from marketing, Ms. Eunbi from sales, and Seoyeon as new Junior Strategist, keep pulling you out of your bubble. They bring teasing, tension, and feelings you're not sure you're ready to deal with.

Lee Saerom / Kwon Eunbi / Yoon Seoyeon

13.6k+

A weekend with Seoyeon, ignites a shy spark that changes everything.

It's a Wednesday, the office sounds with its usual routine, keyboards clacking, coffee machine humming

During lunch, you find Seoyeon in the pantry, steeping her chamomile tea, her movements slower than usual.

"Hey," you say, grabbing a water bottle, keeping your tone light despite the way your heart speeds up. She jumps slightly, then smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"Hi," she replies, her voice soft, almost fragile.

"Busy day?" You ask, trying to keep it normal, but her fingers tremble as she stirs her tea.

"Yeah, the usual," she said calm, but her fingers tremble as she stirs her tea.

You lean against the counter, "You okay? You seem... tired." You hesitate, not wanting to obvious, but her quiet feels heavier than her usual.

She glances down, her smile fading. "Just... didn't sleep well," she mumbles, clutching her cup, "Lots on my mind."

Her phone buzzes on the counter, and she flinches, quickly silencing it. You catch the name on the screen. Yunho. before she flips it over, her face tightening.

"Everything alright?" you ask, your voice gentle, sensing something's wrong.

She nods too quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah... my boyfriend."

It lands like a small shock, though you'd heard rumors she is had a close friend outside work.

"It's fine," she adds, but her voice wavers, and she changes the subject. "Um, I'm working on that strategy deck. Could you... maybe take a look later? If you're free?"

Your heart lifts at the chance to spend time with her. "Sure," you say, maybe too eagerly. "After work? I can stay late."

Her smile returns, small but genuine. "Thanks. That'd help me a lot." She grabs her tea and heads out, her phone buzzing again, unanswered.

That evening, the office empties, leaving a quiet sound.

You're wrapping up emails when Seoyeon waves you over to her desk, her space a cozy clutter of notes and sketches.

"Okay, here's what I've got," she says, nervous, pulling up her pitch strategy deck on her tablet.

You sit close, her shoulder brushing yours, her chamomile scent calming despite the tension in her posture.

You go through her slides, offering feedback, and she listens intently, scribbling notes, her shy laughs easing the mood when you tease her about her overly detailed graphs.

But as you work, her phone keeps buzzing, Yunho's name flashing each time.

She ignores it at first, but by the third call, she sighs, her shoulders slumping.

"Sorry," she mutters, silencing it again. "He's... been like this all day."

"You don't have to answer," you say carefully, sensing her discomfort, "If you don’t want to," you add.

She bites her lip, her eyes glistening for a moment before she blinks it away. "It's... complicated,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yunho's not... he gets upset if I don't pick up. Says I'm ignoring him." She pauses, fidgeting with her pen.

"We've been fighting a lot lately. He doesn't like me staying late, or... I don't know, being me, sometimes."

Your chest tightens, anger flaring at the thought of her possessive boyfriend, "That doesn't sound fair," you say, keeping your tone soft. "You deserve to do what makes you happy."

She looks at you, your words hit something deep, "Thanks," she whispers, "I just... I don't know what to do sometimes."

Her phone buzzes again, shattering the moment. She flinches, standing quickly, her face flushed, "I-I should go," she stammers, grabbing her bag.

"But... can we do this again? The work stuff, I mean," her smile is shaky but hopeful, and you nod, giving her space.

"Anytime," you say, standing too.

She waves awkwardly, heading out, her quiet vulnerability drawing you in.

You take your time packing up, zipping your laptop bag and checking your desk before head home.

You leave the office, the cool night air hitting you as you step outside. The street is quiet, lit by streetlamps, with only a few coworkers lingering near the parking lot.

You're about to head home when you spot Seoyeon a short distance away, standing under a lamp. She's not alone, a man, tall and broad-shouldered, is with her, his posture firm.

You can't hear their words, but the argument is clear in their body language, his hands gesturing sharply, her arms crossed, her head turned slightly away. It's intense but quiet, like they're trying not to make a scene.

Your gut twists, this must be Yunho, her boyfriend, the one who's been dial up her phone.

You hesitate, your instinct urging you to approach, to check if she's okay. Seoyeon's face, even from this distance, looks drained, her shoulders slumped, the weight of a long workday and now this argument etched into her expression.

You take a step forward, your heart picking up, but before you can get closer, Yunho notices you. His eyes narrow, and he grabs Seoyeon's wrist, pulling her back a step, putting distance between you and them.

The move is quick, possessive, and Seoyeon stumbles slightly, her face flashing with frustration, maybe even embarrassment.

"Hey," you call out softly, trying to keep your voice calm, non-threatening, but loud enough to reach them.

"Seoyeon, you okay?" your concern slips out, natural but risky, and you stop a few paces away, not wanting to escalate things.

Seoyeon turns, her eyes meeting yours. For a moment, she looks like she wants to say something, her lips parting.

Yunho cuts in, his voice low but sharp, "We're fine," he says, his grip on her wrist tightening briefly before he lets go, "This is not your concern."

Seoyeon is quiet, her gaze dropping to the ground, her hands clenching into fists. She looks exhausted, not just physically, but emotionally, like she's tired of work, of her boyfriend, of everything.

"I'm... I'm okay," she says finally, her voice small, "Just... go home, okay?" Her words are meant for you, but they feel forced, like she's trying to defuse the situation.

You nod slowly, "Alright," you say, keeping your voice steady, "Text me if you need anything, yeah?"

You turn to walk away, feeling Yunho is stare on your back. As you head down the street. You're not sure what’s going on, but the way she looked, trapped, you want to protect her, even if you don't know how.

Meanwhile, Seoyeon stands under the flickering streetlamp, her arms crossed tightly

"Who was that guy?" Yunho asked demands, his tone low but laced with accusation, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer.

"Some coworker you're suddenly so close with? You're out here late, ignoring my calls, and now he's acting like he's your fucking savior? do you slept with him?!"

Seoyeon flinches, her exhaustion making it harder to keep her composure, "Yunho, stop," she says, her voice soft but firm.

"He's just a friend from work. We were reviewing a project, that's all," She rubs her wrist where his grip had been.

Yunho scoffs, running a hand through his hair, his frustration visible, "A friend, huh? You think I'm stupid? I see how you act around guys like that. Smiling, playing all shy. You're always pulling this shit when I'm not around." His words sting, each one blabbing away at her, and she feels the familiar weight of his control tightening around her.

"I'm not doing anything," she snaps, her voice rising slightly before she catches herself, glancing around to make sure no one's nearby. "I'm working late because I have to, Yunho. You know how much this job means to me. Why can't you trust me?"

He steps closer, looming over her, his voice dropping to a cold whisper, "Because you're always giving me reasons not to. You're too close to these guys, Seoyeon. I'm not an idiot. You're mine, and I don't like sharing."

His hand reaches for her arm again, but she pulls back, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt.

"I'm not your property," she says, her voice trembling, the words spilling out before she can stop them.

"I'm trying to make this easy, but why always you make it so hard, Yunho" Her eyes glisten, but she blinks back tears, refusing to let them fall.

She's too tired for this, too worn down to keep fighting the same fight.

Yunho's face hardens, but there's a flicker of unease in his eyes, "Fine," he says, stepping back, his voice clipped. "Go home. We'll talk later. But don't think I'm letting this go." He turns, heading to his car parked nearby, leaving her standing alone under the lamp.

Seoyeon watches him go, her breath shaky, her hands clenched into fists, she wipes her eyes, and starts walking to the bus stop, her steps slow, her heart heavy.

That night, you're at Saerom's place, ringing her bell.

"Hi cutie..." she pulls you inside, her lips on yours before the door fully closes, her hands tugging at your shirt, her body pressing close, her skirt riding up to reveal smooth thighs.

Your hands roaming her curves, your cock hardening as she leads you to her bedroom.

She's on her knees first, sucking you off with that expert precision, her tongue swirling around your tip, her moans vibrating against your cock as she takes you deep.

"Fuck, Ms. Saerom," you hiss, her eyes glinting up at you, and you grip her hair, thrusting gently into her mouth.

You called to her place not for slow, she pushes you onto the bed, straddling you, her panties discarded, her pussy already wet as she sinks down onto your cock.

"Fill me, cutie," she moans, her voice raw, her hips rocking hard, her tight walls gripping you like she’s starving for it.

You fuck her fast, your hands on her hips, her ass bouncing as she rides you, her moans loud and unrestrained.

She's nonstop, her pussy clenching tight, begging for more, and you give it, flipping her over to pound her from behind, yanking her hair.

She gasps, "Harder... fuck, yes!" Her body shakes, her juices soaking you as she comes, her walls milking your cock.

You pull out just in time, your cum shooting across her back, hot and thick, as she moans, "Good my cutieboy," collapsing onto the sheets, panting.

You both lie there, catching your breath. Saerom rolls onto her side, her body coating sweat.

"You're too good at this, cutie," she says, her voice softer now, her hand tracing idle patterns on your chest.

The aftermath usually leaves you both in silence, but tonight, your mind is elsewhere, and Saerom notices. "What's up? You're not usually this... quiet."

You hesitate, but "It's... Seoyeon," you say, your voice low. Saerom's eyebrow arches, her curiosity peeking, but she stays quiet, letting you talk.

"It's not like I want to fuck her, but... I do care about her," you admit, the words honest from you. "She's got this boyfriend, Yunho, and he's… bad news... I mean. Possessive, jealous. Saw them arguing outside the office lately, and she looked so... tired. Like she's broken."

Saerom's expression changes, her usual playful edge replaced by something more thoughtful. She props herself up on her elbow, looking at you closely. "Sounds like trouble," she says.

"Seoyeon's sweet, quiet... doesn't seem like the type to handle a guy like that well," she pauses, her eyes searching yours. "You’re not just crushing on her, are you? You're, like, worried worried."

You nod, rubbing your neck, "Yeah. I don’t know what to do. She's not opening up, but I can tell she's struggling. I just... want to help her, you know?"

Saerom sighs, lying back, staring at the ceiling, "That's messy, cutie. A girl with a bad boyfriend's not your job to fix, but..." She glances at you, her smirk returning, but softer.

"You've got a good heart. Just don't get yourself in too deep, okay? She might lean on you, and then what? You're already playing with me and whatever you had with Eunbi." Her tone's teasing, but there's a warning there.

"It's not like that with Seoyeon. It's... different. She's different," you say, your voice quiet.

Saerom chuckles, her hand resting on your thigh, her touch light, "Sure, cutie. Just watch out. Girls like her, sweet, broken, they pull you in without trying." She leans over, kissing you softly.

"Now, get some rest. You're mine again next time I need you." She winks, but her words about Seoyeon stick in your mind.

You dress up and head home, you're wondering how you can reach her without forcing anything with Seoyeon.

Thursday morning, you step into the office, the sound of keyboards and coffee machine hissing in the background as usual.

Seoyeon arrives, late for her usual punctuality, your chest tightens. Her eyes are puffy, her smile strained as she sets up, avoiding your gaze. She looks drained, like the fight with Yunho took more than she can hide.

At a break, you find her in the pantry, steeping her chamomile tea, her movements firm.

"Hey," you say softly, grabbing a water bottle, watching her closely. "You okay? Last night looked... tough."

She freezes, then forces a smile, her voice barely a whisper. "Yeah, just... a misunderstanding. Yunho gets like that sometimes." Her eyes stay on her tea, her fingers gripping the cup too tightly. "Sorry if it was weird. I didn't mean to drag you into it."

"You didn't," you say gentle. "I was just worried. You don't have to deal with that alone, you know. If you need to talk..." You try off, hoping she feels your openness, not wanting to push too hard.

She glances up, her eyes softening, a flicker of gratitude breaking through her guard, "Thanks," she whispers, "I'll... be okay."

Her phone buzzes on the counter, Yunho's name flashing, and she flinches, silencing it quickly. The moment fades, and she grabs her tea, heading back to her desk, leaving you with the feeling she's far from okay.

The week crawls to an end, Seoyeon's still quiet this week, her puffy eyes, her forced smiles, and the way she flinches at Yunho's name on her phone screen during all day, all time, not giving her to break.

The weekend coming, you're at the local market, a large open-air setup with stalls of fresh groceries and the chatter of shoppers filling the air. It's your routine stocking up on groceries for another week, and you need a break after long weekday.

"Hey... is that you?"

Seoyeon's voice you can hear behind.

You turn, she is there, standing a few steps away, a basket of vegetables in her hand. She's in a simple sweater and jeans, her usual bun hair, her face bare of makeup, making her look softer than her office looks.

"Oh hi," you say, a smile breaking through your surprise.

"Didn't expect to see you here." Your heart nerves seeing her outside work, alone.

She smiles small, stepping closer, "Same. Just... needed to get out, groceries, me time, that kind of thing." Her voice is forced to sound okay.

She glances at your bag, then back at you, "What about you? Big cooking plans?"

You laugh, holding up an avocado. "If 'big plans' means not burning toast, then yeah, maybe."

She giggles, the sound light, easing the tension in her face for a moment, and it warms you, like you’ve done something right.

She shifts her basket, "I was thinking of hitting the mall after this, maybe catch a movie. Just... something to do."

Her eyes flick to yours, like she's hoping something, "You... doing anything else today?"

Your chest tightens, catching the hint in her words. She's alone, reaching out, and the thought of spending time with her, feels like a chance you can't let slip.

"Not really," you say, "Just this, then probably back home to stare at my fridge. A movie sounds way better, though. Want company?"

Her eyes widen slightly, then soften at her face, "Really? I mean... yeah, that'd be nice." She tucks strand of her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit you've noticed.

"I don't want to drag you into my boring day, but..." she murmurs.

"You're not dragging me," you say quickly.

"I'd rather hang out than argue with my avocados."

"Okay, then," she says, her voice warmer.

"Let's finish up here, then head to the mall?" you asked.

She nods, and the two of you fall into step, wandering through the market, picking out produce, chatting about nothing, work, food, her love for spicy ramen.

You and her walk side by side, your reusable bag heavy with groceries, her basket brimming with vegetables and a pack of spicy ramen she insisted on grabbing after your teasing.

As you near your place, you glance at your bag, "Hey, uh, mind if I put this stuff to my place first? it's near there, just quick stop," you ask, rubbing the back of your neck.

Seoyeon nods, her eyes soft. "Sure, no problem," she says, her voice gentle, "I'm coming too, wondering what's your place like,"

You reach your building, a modest midrise, and lead her up the stairs to your unit.

As you unlock your apartment, "Sorry if it's a mess," you say, half-laughing, pushing the door open, "I wasn't exactly expecting company."

Seoyeon steps inside, her basket in hand, and glances around with a small smile. Your place isn't that bad, a few books scattered open on the coffee table, a jacket slung over the couch, some dishes in the sink

"It's nice," she says, put her basket groceries on the counter, "Feels... cozy. Don't worry about it."

"Cozy's one way to put it," you say, grinning, as you head to the kitchen to unpack your groceries.

She follows, helping you sort the groceries. You catch her humming softly, a habit you've noticed in the pantry at work, and it makes the moment feel... close.

"Okay, fridge stocked, we're good," you say, closing the fridge.

"I'm just gonna change quick," you gesture to your casual t-shirt and sweatpants.

She laughs, "Sure, you don't wanna look like jogging to the mall, aren't you?" she says, settling onto a stool by the counter, "I'll wait."

You enter your bedroom. You want to match her, not too formal, but enough to show you're making an effort. You settle on a clean button-up shirt, rolled sleeves, and darker jeans, checking yourself in the mirror, this is your best shot. You quick run a hand through your hair, hoping it's enough, and head back out.

Seoyeon's flipping through one of your books when you return. She looks up, her eyes widening slightly, then softening with a smile. "Look at you, clean up nice"” she says, her voice shy but teasing, her cheeks faintly pink.

Your face warms, her compliment hitting harder than you expected, "Thanks."

You say, grabbing your keys, "Ready for the mall now?"

"Let's go. Mind if I leave my stuff here? I'll pick it up after mall," she nods at her basket, still on the counter.

"It's fine," you said.

You lock up and head out, the walk to the mall filled with easy chatter, her picking a movie, you joking about sneaking snacks in. The day feels lighter, Seoyeon's presence a quiet balm against the week's tensions.

You reach the mall, a sprawling complex of glass and lights, a loud sound with families, couples, and groups of friends.

Seoyeon's eyes brighten as you step inside, the AC coolness a relief from the warm afternoon. "I haven't done this in forever," she admits, her voice soft but tinged with excitement, clutching her small crossbody bag.

"Just... shopping for myself, you know? Yunho usually--" she cuts herself off, her smile frozen for a moment, then recovers. "Anyway, I need a few things. Mind tagging along?"

"Sure is" you say, grinning. "Lead the way. I'm your official shopping assistant today." Her laugh, you fall into step beside her, ready to follow her lead.

Seoyeon's first stop is a boutique clothing store, its filled lined with flowy dresses, tailored blazers, and soft knits. She hesitates at the entrance, like she's unsure if she deserves to indulge, but you nudge her gently. "Go on, pick something you like," you say, leaning against a display. "I'll give you my opinion." She rolls her eyes playfully, her shyness fading, and starts browsing.

She pulls out a pale blue sundress, holding it up against herself, her brow furrowed in thought. "What do you think?" she asks, glancing at you. "I don't usually wear dress like this, but... I don't know, it's pretty."

"It's really nice," you say, picturing her in it. "Try it on. You'll look great." Her cheeks pinken, but she nods, heading to the fitting room. When she steps out, the dress flows around her, accentuating her gentle curves, her bun hair revealing her glistening shoulders under store light.

"Wow," you say, meaning it, your voice soft. "It's suit you... really." Her smile blooms, shy but delighted, and she smooths the skirt, glancing at herself in the mirror.

"Really? It's not too... much?" she asks, her voice small.

"It's perfect," you reply, stepping closer. "You should get it. Wear it for sometimes fun." Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, she smiles and nods, deciding to keep it.

She tries on a few more items, a cozy cardigan, a sleek blazer, and you cheer her on.

Next, Seoyeon leads you to a department store, her focus shifting to accessories. "I need a new purse," she says, scanning the rows of bags. "Mine's falling apart, and Yunho always says I don't need a fancy one, but..." She trails off, her jaw tightening slightly, then shakes her head. "I want something nice for me."

You nod, sensing her need to make something happy for herself. "Go for it."

She wanders through the displays, her fingers brushing leather and canvas. She lingers on a small, structured tote in deep green, elegant but practical, and holds it up. "This one?"

"Nice choice," you say, grinning. "Looks like it could hold your tablet, your tea, and your office's snacks." She giggles, slinging it over her shoulder to test it, and you can see her picturing it in her daily life.

She also eyes a pair of heels nearby, low, black, with a subtle shimmer. "I never wear heels," she admits, picking them up. "Yunho says they're not necessary, but... they're so pretty."

"Try some," you encourage, sitting on a nearby bench. "Just try it, if you like, then you can grab it."

She hesitates, then slips them on, wobbling slightly as she takes a few steps. You clap dramatically, making her laugh, her cheeks flushed. "Damn, look at you, girl."

"They're comfy," she says, surprised, checking her reflection. "I'll get them. For... sometimes fun."

Seoyeon's final stop is a cosmetics counter, her curiosity peek by the rows of lipsticks and eyeshadows. "I don't wear much makeup," she says, "but I've always wanted to try something bolder. Like... a red lip, maybe?" She glances at you, nervous but eager, and you nod encouragingly.

"Let's do it, then," you say, leaning against the counter. "Reds would look great on you." The sales associate helps her test shades, and Seoyeon dabs a vibrant crimson on her lips, her eyes widening at her reflection. She looks striking, her shy contrasted by the bold color, and you can't help but stare.

"Wow," you say, your voice low, catching her eye. "That's... yeah, you should definitely get it." Her blush deepens, blending with the lipstick, and she smiles, a mix of pride and nerves.

"It's not too bold?" she asks, tilting her head.

"Not at all, but it's okay, fits you," you reply, grinning. She buys the lipstick, along with a neutral eyeshadow palette she says she'll "figure out someday," her excitement growing with each small choice.

With her shopping bags in hand, sundress, cardigan, blazer, green tote, heels, and makeup. Seoyeon looks lighter with every purchase.

You head to a food court to grab smoothies before the movie, sitting at a small table, the mall's chatter surrounding you.

She sips her strawberry smoothie, her eyes brighter than they’ve been all week, but there’s still a shadow there, a quiet hurt she’s not voicing.

"Thanks for this," she says suddenly, her voice soft, her fingers tracing her cup. "I... I needed today. More than I realized." Her eyes meet yours, and you sense she's on the edge of opening up.

"No problem," you say, leaning forward, your voice gentle..

"You deserve to do things for you, you know? You looked happy in there, picking out stuff you love." You pause, testing the waters. "Everything okay, though? You seemed... I don't know, like you were carrying a lot earlier."

Her smile fades slightly, her gaze dropping to her cup. "It's... Yunho," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He's been... weird. Says he wants me around all the time, but then weekends come, and he just... leave me out. Says he needs space, that I'm too much during the weekday" Her fingers tighten around her cup, her hurt spilling out. "I don't get it. I try to be what he wants, but it's never enough."

Your chest tightens, anger at Yunho mixing with a need to comfort her. "That's not fair," you say, keeping your tone steady. "You're not too much, Seoyeon. He shouldn't make you feel like that." You hesitate, then add, "You deserve someone who's excited to be with you, not... pushing you away."

Her eyes flick up, glistening. "Thanks," she whispers, her voice trembling. "I just... I don't know what to do. I've been with him so long, but lately, I feel like I'm losing myself." She pauses, then forces a smile, like she's scared she's said too much. "Sorry, I didn't mean to dump that on you."

"You're not," you say, your hand resting near hers but not touching. "I'm here, okay? If you ever need to talk, or... just go shopping and forget everything for a bit." You grin, trying to lighten the mood, and she laughs softly, the sound easing the tension.

"Okay," she says, her smile more genuine now.

"Let's get to that movie," you stand, grabbing your bag, and she follows.

At the theater, you buy tickets for the movie she picked, a predictable story about two people finding love against all odds. "Don't judge me," she says, laughing softly as you hand her a ticket, her fingers brushing yours for a fleeting moment. "I need something fluffy today."

"No worries," you reply, grinning. "I'm okay with anything." You grab a shared popcorn and sodas.

You find your seats in the dimly lit auditorium, settling into the chairs. The theater's half-empty, giving you a pocket of privacy as the previews roll, her shopping bags tucked under her seat. She sips her soda, her shoulder close to yours.

As the movie starts, Seoyeon relaxes, her laughter soft at the film's early comedic moments, her hand dipping into the popcorn at the same time as yours, prompting a shy "Oops" from her.

The romantic comedy unfolds, its predictable comforting, and you notice her sinking into the story, her eyes bright in the screen's glow.

Then comes a pivotal romantic scene, the couple onscreen, standing in the rain, confessing their feelings, heart on sleeve moment. The music swells, their words dripping with longing, and you feel the air shift.

You glance at Seoyeon, curious, and catch her blushing, her cheeks flushed. She's covering her mouth with her new green tote, like she's hiding her reaction, her eyes wide and glistening, caught up in the emotion. She senses your gaze and turns, her eyes meeting yours, a shy, surprised flicker passing between you.

You hold her gaze, your heart picking up the quiet tension. She looks away quickly, her blush deepening, her tote slipping to her lap as she fidgets, her fingers twisting the strap. You feel a pull, a want to reach for her hand, to closing the gap, but her shyness holds you back, respecting her space.

The movie continues, another romantic peak hitting, a slow dance under string lights, the couple's foreheads touching, promises whispered.

Seoyeon's blush returns, softer this time, and she glances at you again, quicker, like she's checking if you're watching her.

You are, and your eyes lock for a split second before she turns back to the screen, her smile small but nervous, her shoulder brushing yours as she shifts in her seat.

As the credits roll, the lights come up, and Seoyeon clears her throat, her face still faintly pink. "That was... really sweet," she says, her voice soft, avoiding your eyes as she gathers her bags. "Kinda cheesy, but... I liked it."

"Yeah, good choice, tho" you say, standing, keeping your tone light.

Outside the theater, evening air feels soft as you and Seoyeon walk back to your apartment after the movie.

Without warning, a strong arm locks around your neck from behind, yanking you sideways with force.

You stumble, caught off guard, your bags dropping to the pavement.

"I knew you were trying to rob my girlfriend!" a voice growls, low and furious. It's Yunho, his tall, broad frame looming as he steps, his eyes blazing with jealousy. He's spotted you two, and his grip on Seoyeon's wrist is tight, pulling her close, not letting her go. Her face pales, her eyes wide with shock and fear.

"Yunho, stop!" Seoyeon cries, her voice trembling as she pounds his shoulder with her free hand, but her hits barely affect against his larger build.

The street isn't crowded, but a few passersby pause, their eyes drawn to the confusion, some pulling out phones, others just watching.

You scramble to your feet, your heart racing, the sting of the surprise attack fueling your adrenaline. "Let her go, man," you say, your voice steady but firm, wiping your hands on your jeans.

"We can talk about this," you step forward, hands raised to show you're not a threat, but Seoyeon's still struggling, her punches growing as Yunho's grip tightens.

"Talk?" Yunho scoffs, his face mix with anger, "You're sneaking around with my girl, and you wanna talk?"

Annoyed by Seoyeon's punches, he shoves her hard, sending her stumbling backward.

She collapses onto the pavement, her bags scattering, a small gasp escaping her as she hits the ground.

The crowd grows, more eyes on you, but no one steps in, their fear or indifference keeping them at a distance.

"Seoyeon!" you call, rushing to her side, kneeling to help her up. Her hands shake as she grabs your arm, her eyes glistening with tears.

Before you can steady her, Yunho charges. His knee slams into your face, a sharp pain exploding in your nose. Blood gushes, and you collapse, your vision blurring for a moment.

"No! Stop! Yunho!" Seoyeon screams, scrambling to you, her voice breaking.

"Somebody, help!" she shouts, her eyes darting to the crowd, but they stay back, too scared to intervene, some filming, others murmuring.

She kneels beside you, her hands hovering, unsure where to touch as blood drips from your nose.

You groan, wiping the blood with your sleeve, your adrenaline forcing yourself to stand, waving off the dizziness.

Yunho's coming again, his fist raised, his face a mask of rage. But this time, you're ready.

You duck under, catching his punch as you drive your shoulder into his chest, wrapping your arms around his midsection.

With a surge of adrenaline, you lift him off the ground, his weight heavy but your anger heavier.

You twist, slamming him backward onto the pavement with a thud that echoes.

He grunts, the air knocked out of him, his eyes wide with shock as he hits the ground.

The crowd gasps, the tension spiking, but you don't care. You step back, breathing hard, blood still dripping from your nose, your hands clenched.

Seoyeon's at your side, her hands gripping your arm, her voice trembling. "Are you okay?" she asks, her eyes wide, tears streaking her face as she glances between you and Yunho, who's struggling to sit up, clutching his back.

"Yunho, enough!" she shouts, stepping in front of you like a shield. "This is insane! You can't like this!" Her words choke off, her body shaking with anger and fear.

Yunho glares, pushing himself to his feet, his breath heavy. "You're defending him?" he snarls, pointing at you. "I knew you were sneaking around. You're mine, Seoyeon, and I'm not letting some guy--"

"I'm not yours!" she shouts, her voice louder than you've ever heard her. The crowd murmurs, and Yunho freezes, stunned by her defiance. "Not anymore, Yunho. I'm done with all of this. So let me go, we're over." Her words tremble, but there's a strength within her fear.

You wipe more blood from your nose, standing close, ready to step in if Yunho moves again. The crowd's still watching, some filming, but no one interferes.

Yunho's face twists, anger, hurt, disbelief, but he doesn't advance, his hands clenching at his sides. "You'll regret this," he mutters, low and cold, before turning, shoving through the crowds, and disappearing down the street.

Seoyeon's shoulders slump, her breath shaky as she turns to you, her eyes searching your face. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, her voice breaking, her hands reaching for you but stopping short.

"Your nose... we need to get you cleaned up." She's trembling way to worry about you.

"I'm fine," you say, though the pain throbs from the blood.

"You okay?" You touch her arm gently, and she nods, tears spilling.

"Let's... let's go to your place," she says, her voice small. "We can figure this out."

You nod, grabbing her bags and yours, ignoring the crowd's stares as you help her up.

You stumble into your apartment, your nose still throbbing and blood crusted on your upper lip. Seoyeon's close behind, her shopping bags forgotten by the door as she shuts it, her face pale but resolute, her eyes still glistening from tears.

You collapse onto the sofa, your head tilting back, the pain and exhaustion hitting hard. Your neck collar is speckled with blood, your jeans scuffed from the fall, and you feel guilt for not stopping Yunho sooner.

Seoyeon heading straight to the small first aid kit hanging near your fridge. "Stay still," she says softly, she pulls out antiseptic wipes, gauze, and a small bottle of betadine.

She kneels in front of you, her sweater brushing your knees, her hands gentle but shaking as she starts cleaning the blood from your face.

"Ssss..." the antiseptic makes you hiss, but her closeness endures the pain. She's so close, her face inches from yours, her brow furrowed in focus, and she looks fragile, like the fight's weight is still crushing her.

You watch her, her careful touches. You couldn't shield her from Yunho's rage, couldn't stop him from shoving her to the ground.

"I'm... sorry," you mumble thick with guilt. "I couldn't protect you... I should've... I should've fought him... for... you." The words feel clumsy, like you're her savior, but they spill out honest.

Seoyeon pauses, her hand hovering with a fresh wipe, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, wide and searching. "What do you mean?" she asks. "You wanna fight him again? No way I'm letting you." She shakes her head, brow frown, her lips pressing into a small, meep line. "Besides, you've already fought for me."

"What do you mean?" you ask, your brow furrowing.

Before you can think, she leans in, her lips pressing against yours. The kiss is sudden, her hands cupping your face, careful not to touch your bruised nose.

It's warm, steals your breath, your heart pounding as you kiss her back, your hands finding her arms, grounding yourself in her.

She pulls back, her forehead resting against yours, her breath shaky, her eyes glistening with tears.

"I mean... you stood up to him," she whispers, her voice breaking. "You didn't back down, even when he hurt you. No one's ever... done that for me." She mumbles, her hands trembling against your cheeks.

"I'm done with Yunho. I'm going to break up with him. For me... and for you. Because you care about me, and I... I feel safe."

Her words hit like a wave, your chest tightening. "Seoyeon..." you start, your voice rough, unsure if you're worthy of her trust, her choice. "Are you sure? I don't want you to do this just because--"

"I'm sure," she cuts in, her voice firmer now. "I've been losing myself with him, trying to be what he wants, but with you... I feel like me again. Today, the market, the mall, the movie... you let me be myself." She smiles, small but real, her thumb brushing your jaw, avoiding your injury. "I want that. I want... this."

You nod, your throat tight, your hands sliding to hers, holding them gently. The pain in your nose fades slowly gone by her closeness.

"Okay," you say, your voice soft. "I'm here, then. Whatever you need." You mean it every word.

She leans in again, kissing you softer this time, a promise in the press of her lips.

When she pulls back, she grabs the first-aid kit again, continue treating you, cleaning the last of the blood with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

After she finishes cleaning your injury, she glances at herself, her sweater smudged from the fall, her hands still trembling slightly. "Um… do you mind if I clean up?” she asks, her voice shy, her cheeks pink. "I feel… kind of a mess."

"Of course," you say, standing, gesturing toward the bathroom. "Towels are in the cabinet by the sink. Take your time." You pause, then add, "Need anything else?"

She smiles, small but warm. "I'm okay. Just... need a moment." She grabs her bag and heads to the bathroom, the door clicking shut softly. You sink back onto the sofa, your nose throbbing but dulled slowly.

The sound of the shower starts, a faint hum through the walls, and you try to focus, cleaning up the first aid kit and picking up her scattered shopping bags.

The shower stops after a while, and the bathroom door creaks open. You glance up, and your jaw drops. Seoyeon steps out, wrapped in a small, pastel towel of your step sister's spare, left from her last visit, which Seoyeon must have found in the cabinet.

It's shorter than the regular towels, barely reaching mid-thigh, clinging to her damp skin, her wet hair cascading over her shoulders.

Her cheeks are flushed from the steam, her bare legs glistening faintly, and she looks breathtakingly stunning. You swallow hard, your heart racing, caught off guard by the sight.

"Um... sorry," she says, clutching the towel tighter, her voice shy, noticing your stare.

"This was... all I found. It's a bit small." She tucks her hair behind her ear, her habit showing sign of her shyness.

"No, I'm the one who... should apologize…" you stammer, snapping out of it, your face warming.

"I mean, that's my step sister's. I should've checked. You, uh... feel better?" You cringe at your awkwardness, trying not to let your eyes linger, though the image of her fresh from the shower is burned into your mind.

She nods, a small smile breaking through her shyness. "Yeah, better. But, um... do you have any spare clothes? Mine are kind of dirty, and I don't want to put them back on." She shifts, the towel slipping slightly, and she catches it quickly, her blush deepening.

"Oh, right, yeah," you say, standing, grateful for something to do. "Hold on, I've got some stuff you can borrow." You head to your bedroom, remembering your step sister left a few things in a drawer from her last crash at your place.

You dig through, finding a soft, oversized t-shirt and a pair of drawstring sweatpants, simple, but clean and cozy.

Returning to the living room and you handing them to her, keeping your eyes on her face to stay respectful. "They're my step sister's, too. Hope that's okay."

"Thanks," she says, her voice soft, taking the clothes with a grateful smile, "You're... really sweet, you know," her eyes meeting yours.

She heads back to the bathroom to change, the door closing again, and you exhale, sinking onto the sofa.

When she steps out, the t-shirt hangs loosely on her frame, the sweatpants cinched tight at her waist, her damp hair tucked behind her ears. She looks cozy, almost at home, "Better," she says, sitting beside you on the sofa, her hands clasped in her lap. "Thanks for… everything. I don't know what I'd have done without you today."

You shake your head, "You don't have to thank me. I'm just glad you're okay."

She nods, her gaze steady holds the tremor in her hands. "I'm really done with Yunho. I can't keep living like that, always afraid, always... being watched." Her voice cracks breaking through.

"You make me feel like I can be more. Like I'm... being me." She looks at you, her eyes soft.

You want to reach for her, to hold her, but you hold back, respecting her pace. "You are...," you say, your voice low, meaning every word, "And I'm here, always whatever you need."

"I'm gonna grab a quick shower," you say, rubbing the back of your neck, your voice soft to match the fragile air. "Make yourself at home. There's water in the fridge, or... whatever you need."

Seoyeon nods, curling up on the sofa, her hands tucked under her chin. "Okay," she murmurs, her eyes soft but tired, "I'll be here."

You give her a small smile, then head to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you.

The hot water washes away the blood and tension, the steam clearing your head as you replay the day, the market, the mall, the movie’s romantic scenes, her blushes, the fight with Yunho.

You dry off, wrapping a towel around your neck, pulling on a pair of boxers, too tired to bother with more. Your hair's a damp, messy tangle, half covering your eyes as you step out, the cool air hitting your bare chest.

You pause at the bathroom door, your breath catching. Seoyeon's asleep on the sofa, one hand propping her cheek, her lips slightly parted, her damp hair framing her face. She looks beautiful, almost fantasy in your apartment light, her small body curled up in the oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. She's cute, vulnerable, the woman you've been dreaming of, someone you want to care for, to protect every moment. Your chest tightens, a fierce urge to shield her from Yunho, from anything that could shut her light.

As you step closer, hanging your towel on a chair, Seoyeon stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She blinks, "Ohh..." gazing through you, bare chested, boxers, damp hair falling into your eyes, and her cheeks flush, a soft gasp escaping her.

She stands, her movements slow but deliberate, crossing the room to you. You freeze, your heart racing, unsure what's happening but feeling the air shift, charged with something new.

"You look... nice," she says, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes tracing your chest, shy but bold in a way you didn't expect.

Her hand reaches out, her fingers brushing your chest, warm against your skin. She steps closer, her small body pressing against you, her touch lingering on your broad enough chest. The contact sends a jolt through you, your cock stirring in your boxers, already half hard from her closeness.

"Seoyeon..." you say, your voice low, confused, not sure how to respond. Is this the moment? Does she want this? Her touch feels like a signal, but the day's chaos, makes you hesitate, not wanting to make this quick for her.

Seoyeon is braver than you thought. Her hand slides lower, tracing your stomach, her fingers dipping just under the waistband of your boxers, brushing against your cock, now half-erect.

You gasp, your body reacting faster than your mind, the warmth of her hand sending a surge of heat through you. Her eyes meet yours, wide, desire in her flushed face. "Your little man got exited?" her hands still on you.

You swallow hard, your cock hardening under her touch, "Seoyeon," you say, your voice rough, your hand gently catching hers, holding it still, "Are you sure? After everything today... I don't want you to feel like you have to--"

"I want to," she cuts in, her eyes searching yours.

"I want this. I want you." She leans up, kissing you again, slower this time, her lips warm and needy, her body pressing closer.

Her hand moves again, stroking you lightly through your boxer, and you groan into the kiss.

The kiss deepens, but it's gentle. You guide her to the sofa, sitting her down, kneeling between her legs to keep the closeness without overwhelming her. Her hands roam your bare shoulders, her touch light but curious, exploring you like she want memorizing the feel of you.

She pulls back slightly, her breath shaky. "I... I should tell you," she murmurs, her voice barely audible, her eyes flicking down, shy but honest. "This... it's not my first time. Yunho... he was my first." Her words hang there, and your heart skips a beat, a mix of jealousy and sadness at the thought of her with him, of him taking something so intimate from her.

You swallow, your mind flashing to your own secrets, Saerom, Eunbi. But you push them aside, unsure if sharing would hurt her or complicate this fragile moment.

Instead, you cup her face, your thumb brushing her cheek, your voice soft. "I don't care. This is still you... with me, right now. That's what matters." You mean it, your words grounding her, and her eyes soften, a small smile breaking through her nerves.

"Thank you," she whispers, leaning into your touch, her hands finding your chest again.

You kiss her once more, slower, your hands sliding to her waist, resting on the soft fabric of the t-shirt. She shifts, tugging at the hem, her shyness returning as she lifts it over her head, revealing her bare skin, her small, perky, perfect breasts. You pause, taking her in, your breath catching at her.

"You're... beautiful," you say, your voice low, and she blushes, her hands covering herself for a moment before you gently pull them away, kissing her collarbone, then lower, soft and reverent.

"That's... ahh," she gasps, her fingers tangling in your damp hair, her body arching slightly into your touch. You move slowly, your lips tracing her skin, wanting her to feel cherished, not rushed.

She tugs at your boxers, her hands trembling but bold, and you help her slide them off, your cock springing free, hard and ready. Her eyes widen, a mix of shock and desire, and you kiss her again, calming her.

"We'll go slow," you murmur against her lips, and she nods, her breath hitching as she pulls at the drawstring of her sweatpants, letting them pool around her ankles, revealing her simple cotton panties, already damp.

You slide them down gently, your hands grazing her thighs, and she shivers, her small frame opening to you. You settle between her legs, kissing her inner thighs slow, her soft moans filling the quiet.

"Is this okay?" you ask, glancing up, and she nods, her hands gripping the sofa, her eyes locked on yours, trusting.

You move to her core, your tongue flicking gently, tasting her sweetness, and she gasps, her hips twitching. You keep it slow, savoring her, her moans growing softer, more desperate, her hands in your hair.

"That... feels so good," she whispers, her voice shaky, and you hum against her, making her arch, her body trembling as she nears the edge.

You pull back just before she tips over, wanting to be with her fully, and she whines softly, needy but not pushing.

You position yourself, your cock brushing her entrance, and pause, searching her eyes, "Ready?" you ask, your voice gentle, and she nods, her hands on your shoulders, pulling you closer.

You push in slowly, inch by inch, her tight warmth enveloping you, her gasp sharp but sweet, "You okay?" you murmur, pausing, and she nods, her nails digging lightly into your skin, her breath uneven.

"Keep going," she whispers, and you do, moving slow, each thrust gentle, letting her adjust, her moans soft and shaky.

Her legs wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you kiss her, your lips moving together. The intimacy builds, something deeper, softer, like you're both healing through each touch.

"You feel... so good," you mumble against her neck, and she smiles, her blush returning, her hands roaming your back.

She moves with you, hesitant at first, then bolder, her hips meeting yours, her moans growing louder. The sofa creaks softly, the apartment quiet, just your breaths and her sounds.

As you near your peak, her walls tightening around you, you feel the urge to pull out, "Seoyeon... I'm close," you whisper, and you pulled out, your release hitting just as you withdraw, your cum spilling across her stomach, warm and thick.

You pant, catching your breath, but Seoyeon's face shifts, a flicker of disappointment crossing her flushed features.

"I... wanted it inside," she murmurs, her voice shy but honest, her eyes avoiding yours for a moment. "It's... my safe week. I thought..." she trails off, her blush deepening, like she's embarrassed to admit it.

Your heart skips, surprise. "I'm sorry," you say quickly,

You reach for a tissue from the coffee table to gently wipe her stomach. "I didn't know... I just wanted to be careful." You pause, meeting her eyes, your hand resting on her thigh.

"Let me make it up to you, okay?"

Her eyes widen, a mix of nerves and curiosity, but she nods, her small smile returning. You stand, offering your hand, and lead her to your bedroom, the space dim and cozy, your bed unmade but inviting.

"We'll do it again,” you murmur, kissing her softly, guiding her to the bed. She sits, her hands fidgeting, but her gaze is trusting, warm.

You kneel before her, kissing her lips, then her neck, your hands sliding to her hips. "Tell me what you want," you whisper, and she blushes, her voice barely audible.

"I want it... inside," she says, her eyes meeting yours.

Her words stir you, your cock hardening again, and you nod, kissing her deeply, easing her back onto the bed.

You move slowly, your lips tracing her skin, her moans soft as you rediscover her body.

When you enter her again, it's gentle, her warmth welcoming you, as she gasps. You thrust slowly, her hands clutching your back, her legs wrapping tighter, urging you deeper. "Like this?"

she nods, her moans growing, her eyes locked on yours, "Yes... like that," she whispers, and you move together.

When she nears her peak, her walls pulsing, you stay inside, her plea from before guiding you. "Please... inside," she gasps, her hands gripping you, and this time, you don't pull back.

You cum, let go, release spilling inside her, warm and intense, her moan quiet but raw as she comes with you, her body trembling, her warmth pulsing around you.

You collapse beside her, pulling her close, her head on your chest, your arms around her small frame. She's warm, soft, her breath steadying, and you kiss her forehead, she snuggles closer, her smile small forming.

She's curled into you, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin, her damp hair tickling your neck.

She shifts, her hand sliding down your chest, her touch growing bolder. She glances up, her eyes meeting yours, her cheeks flushed.

"Can I...?” she whispers, her voice soft but laced with need, her fingers brushing your softening cock, making you twitch.

You nod, your breath catching, and she smiles, her shyness melting into courage.

Her hand wraps around your cock, stroking slowly, her grip gentle but firm, making your cock back to life.

She leans in, her lips brushing your chest, then closing around your nipple, licking and sucking softly, sucking with a hum that sends a jolt straight to your cock.

"Seoyeon..." you groan, her tongue flicking as her hand pumps you, slow and deliberate, making you harden under her touch.

She switches to your other nipple, sucking harder, her teeth grazing lightly, and you arch, your hands gripping the sheets, pleasure building fast.

She pulls back, her eyes glinting with a boldness you didn't expect, she shifts down the bed, kneeling between your legs, her small body on her knees.

She looks at your cock, now half-hard, and licks her lips, before you can respond, she leans down, her tongue flicking the tip, tasting you, making you gasp. Her lips close around the head, soft and warm, sucking gently, her hand stroking the base, slow and teasing.

"Fuck, Seoyeon..." you moan, covering your eyes with your arm, too much by the pleasure she's giving, her mouth working you with surprising skill, her tongue swirling, her lips sliding down your shaft, taking you deeper.

She hums, the vibration sending sparks through you, her small hands gripping your thighs as she bobs, savoring you, her moans muffled but needy, your cock hardens fully, rock solid in her mouth.

She pulls back, a string of saliva connecting her lips to your tip, she climbs up, straddling you, her bare pussy brushing your cock, wet and warm, her thighs trembling as she positions herself.

"I want you again," she whispers, her voice shaky but bold, her hands on your chest for balance.

Your hands finding her hips, guiding her as she sinks down, your cock sliding into her tight, slick heat, her gasp loud and sweet.

"Oh my god... you're so big," she moans, her eyes fluttering shut, her walls gripping you as she adjusts, her small body start rocking slowly.

You meet her thrusts, pushing up, your hips syncing with hers, slow at first, then faster, her moans growing louder. Her breasts bounce as she rocking, her nipples visibly hard.

You cup her breasts, thumbs brushing her nipples, and she arches, her moans desperate, her hands gripping your shoulders.

"Yes... again...!" she gasps, riding you harder, her pussy soaking you, her juices dripping down your cock.

"Seoyeon... you feel so good," you groan, thrusting up, meeting her rhythm, her tight walls milking you.

She leans down, kissing you messily, her breaths hot against your lips. Your bed creaks, the sound mixing with her wet slaps against you.

"I'm... close," she whimpers, her walls pulsing, and you feel your own release building, her wish from before repeating, inside.

"Please... inside me," she gasps, her voice breaking, and you don't hold back this time.

"Seoyeon...!"

You thrust deep, your cum spilling inside her, hot and thick, her pussy clenching as she comes, her moan trembling, her body shaking above you.

She collapses onto your chest, her breaths shaky, her arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. "Mmm..." she murmurs, nuzzling your neck, her lips brushing your skin, her pussy still twitching around your softening cock.

"That... was perfect," she whispers, her voice sleepy, her shyness returning.

You stroke her back, your fingers tracing her spine, and a thought slips out, "I'm gonna start hitting gym," you murmur, your lips brushing her forehead. "Like, seriously."

Seoyeon shifts, lifting her head, her eyes meeting yours, "Suddenly? Why?” she asks, her voice soft, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"You're already... you know, strong enough," her fingers graze your chest, lingering on the broadness, her touch light but teasing.

You chuckle, but your tone turns serious, your eyes locking on hers, "Because I want to protect you," you say, your voice steady.

"If Yunho comes back, if he tries to bother you, or us, I want to be ready. I don't want to feel like I can't keep you safe again."

Seoyeon's smile softens, but she chuckles, the sound light and warm, easing the weight of your words. "That's sweet," she says, her cheeks pinkening.

"I want to join you, then. I want to get healthy, stronger. So I can protect myself, too, if you're not around," her voice is quiet but firm.

You grin at her words, "That's so cute of you," you say, your voice playful. She gives her shyness smile, along with soft chuckles.

You move, gently flipping her onto her back, sinking into the sheets. She gasps, her eyes wide with surprise, her bare breasts perky and flushed, her legs parting slightly as you hover over her.

"Seoyeon..." you murmur, your voice low, your lips finding her neck, kissing softly, grazing her pulse with your teeth.

She chills, her hands sliding to your shoulders, her moans soft and fluffy as you trail lower, your lips brushing her collarbone, then her perky breasts.

You take a nipple in your mouth, sucking gently, your tongue flicking, and she arches, her gasp sharp and needy, "So perfect," you whisper against her skin, moving to her other breast, savoring it with slow, her fingers tangling in your damp hair.

You graze lower, kissing her stomach, her hips, until you reach her pussy, still glistening with her juices and your cum, her pussy scent strong.

"Let me clean you up," you murmur, your voice husky, and she blushes, her thighs trembling as you part them gently.

Your tongue flicks her clit, soft and teasing, and she moans, her hips twitching, her hands gripping the sheets. You lick slowly, savoring her sweetness, cleaning her with long, deliberate strokes, your lips sucking lightly, drawing soft whimpers from her.

"Oh... that's... so good," she gasps, her voice shaky, her body arching into your mouth, her pussy wet and responsive.

You dip lower, your tongue exploring her folds, gentle but thorough, her moans growing louder. You focus on her clit, circling it, sucking softly, and she trembles, her thighs squeezing your head, her climax building fast.

"I'm... gonna..." she whimpers, you hum against her, pushing her over.

"Hiek~!" she gasps, snapped by pleasure, her orgasm soft but intense, her pussy pulsing, her juices coating your lips as she shakes, her moan quiet but raw.

You pull back, kissing her inner thighs, then crawl up, settling beside her, pulling her into your arms. She's panting, her face flushed, her smile shy, her body tangled to yours.

"You're... too much," she murmurs, her voice sleepy, snuggle your chest, her arms wrapping tight, "But... I like it."

"Hey..." she called, her voice soft, her fingers pausing on your skin. "Can I ask you something? But... I want you to be honest. Open. For now, for me... for us."

Your heart skips, "Yeah, of course," you say, "What is it?"

"Have you... ever had sex before this? Before me?" she bites her lip

You hesitate, your mind racing. You want this with Seoyeon, a real relationship, built on trust, but spilling everything feels risky, like it could fracture this fragile moment. You swallow, deciding to hold back on Saerom, at least for now.

"Uhhh... yeah," you admit, meeting her eyes. "I've... had sex before. With Ms. Eunbi..." you scratch your back neck, waiting for her respond.

Her eyes widen, a flicker of surprise on her face, "Ms. Eunbi?" she repeats, her voice soft, "She's... married, isn't she? Wow, that's... kind of impressive." Her tone curious, a small smile at her lips.

You shift, "It just... happened," you say, your hand resting on her waist. "Is that... okay? I mean, I want to be honest with you."

Seoyeon nods, her smile softening, her fingers resuming tracing on your arm, "It's okay," she says.

"Ms. Eunbi's nice. She's always been kind to me, so... it doesn't bother me." She pauses, her eyes flick a shy playfulness. "Plus, it's kind of hot, knowing you caught her eye." Her blush deepens, and you laugh softly, the tension easing.

"But I'm yours now," you murmur, leaning in to kiss her.

The kiss deepens, her hands sliding to your neck, pulling you closer, her bare body pressing against you. You feel your cock stirring again, her closeness.

You roll her onto her back, her small frame sinking into the sheets, her gasp soft as you hover over her, your hands framing her face. "And you're mine also," your voice low, rougher.

Her eyes widen, her legs parting slightly. You kiss her hard, your tongue claiming her mouth, she arches into you, her perky breasts brushing your chest.

You move lower, kissing her neck, sucking lightly to leave faint marks, she gasps. Your hands grip her hips, pulling her closer, your cock hard and ready, brushing her slick pussy, still wet from before, your cum lingering inside her.

"Ready for another?" you ask.

She nods, her hands clutching your shoulders, "Yes please..." she whispers, her voice needy.

You position yourself, thrusting into her in one smooth motion, her tight pussy gripping you, her moan loud and raw. Your hips snapping harder, claiming her with each thrust, her small body rocking beneath you, her perky breasts bouncing, her nails digging into your back.

"Fuck, Seoyeon... you're so tight," you groan, your hands gripping her thighs, spreading her wider, your cock driving deep, hitting her sweet spot.

"Ohhh... Ahhh..." she cries out moans, her pussy soaking you, her juices dripping, the wet slaps echoing in the room.

You're thrusting faster, her walls clenching, her body trembling as you push her toward the edge. "Faster...! oh god..." she gasps, her voice breaking, her hips bucking to meet you, her pussy pulsing, her climax building fast.

You lean down, kissing her, your tongues sloppy, your breaths ragged, and she wraps her legs around you, pulling you deeper.

"Inside... please, again," she begs, her eyes locked on yours.

You don't hold back, your thrusts relentless, her moans filling you, her pussy milking you tight.

"I'm cumming... " you groan, her nails digging your back, her body shaking.

"Fuck!" you release, cum flooding inside her, hot and thick.

"Ahhh~!" her pussy spasming as she comes, she moans load, her walls gripping you.

She collapses, panting, her arms wrapping around you, pulling you down to her chest. Her lips brushing your neck, hugging you tight, her warmth grounding you.

She shifts, glances up, "I... want more," her voice soft, a quiet challenge in her gaze.

Before you can respond, she moves, sliding out of your hold and kneeling on the bed, she is bending forward, her ass lifting high, her pussy glistening with your cum and her juices.

She looks back, her hair falling over one shoulder, "Fuck me again... please," she whispers.

Your cock twitches, hardening at the sight, her perfect ass, her slick folds, "Seoyeon..." you groan, kneeling behind her, your hands grazing her hips.

You grip her ass, spreading her slightly, your cock brushing her entrance, teasing her, and she moans, pushing back.

"Do it... hard," she gasps, her voice trembling.

You thrust into her, deep and rough, her tight pussy gripping you, her moan loud as you fill her.

"Oh god... yes!" she cries, her hands clutching the sheets, her ass bouncing with each snap of your hips, the wet slaps echoing, her juices coating your cock.

You grab her hair gently, pulling just enough to arch her back, your other hand gripping her hip, driving harder.

"Fuck, you're so tight..." you growl.

You pull her close, your chest against her back, kissing her neck, sucking lightly, your lips grazing her earlobe.

She shivers, her moans shaky, her body surrendering to you. Your hand slides to her perky breasts, squeezing, pinching her nipples, and she gasps, her pussy clenching tighter, her pleasure spiking.

"More... please," she whimpers.

You move your hand lower, circling her clit with your fingers, fast and firm, while still thrusting deep.

"Oh... I can’t..." she moans, her body trembling, her knees buckling as the pleasure builds too fast. Her pussy pulses, her climax hitting hard, she moan as she comes, her walls spasming around your cock, her juices gushing, her knees giving out. She collapses onto the bed, panting, her ass still raised, her body shaking, unable to hold herself up.

You're not done, your cock still hard, you sliding behind her. You lift her leg slightly, your cock finding her pussy again, sliding in slow but deep, her warmth wrapping you, her moan soft as you fill her.

"You feel so good," you whisper, kissing her neck, your arm wrapping around her, holding her close, your thrusts steady but rough, rocking her small body.

Her hands grip your arm, her moans quiet but needy, her pussy still sensitive, twitching around you.

You thrust harder, your hand returning to her clit, rubbing gently, and she whimpers, her body arching into you, wanting more.

"Fuck I'm close... Seoyeon," you groan, your thrusts deep. "Ergh!" your last thrust, cum flooding inside her.

You hold her tight, your breaths ragged, kissing her shoulder, her neck, as you both come down.

She turns her head, her eyes sleepy but warm, her smile shy but real. "That... was so much," she murmurs, nuzzling closer, her hand finding yours, lacing your fingers.

She shifts, propping herself on her elbow, her hand sliding down your chest, teasingly slow.

"You're... not tired yet, are you?" she murmurs, her voice soft but laced with a daring edge, her fingers brushing your softening cock, making you twitch and surprised.

"I mean, if you keep doing that..." you pause, her hand still wrapping around you, stroking gently, her grip warm.

She leans closer, her lips grazing your ear, her breath hot as she whispers, her voice trembling but bold, "You like this, don't you... my hand on your big cock?" her words unlike her usual, send a jolt through you, your cock hardening fast under her touch.

"Fuck, Seoyeon..." you groan, your head tilting back, and she giggles softly, her strokes faster, her thumb circling your tip, spreading precum.

She keeps whispering, her voice low and filthy, "I bet you'd love... to see me with someone else, wouldn't you? Like... Ms. Eunbi?" Her words catch you off guard, her mention of Eunbi. "A threesome... me and her, on you... you want that?"

Your cock throbs in her hand, the image flashing vivid, Seoyeon's small frame, Eunbi's curves, both moaning under you.

She notices, her smile sly, she keep stroking, "You do, don't you?" she teases, her lips brushing your jaw, sucking lightly, her hand pumping fast, slick with your precum.

The pleasure builds, her dirty talk and bold confidence overwhelming, you're panting, "Seoyeon..." heavy breaths rigging you.

Pleasure snapped, and you cum hard, your release spilling thick and hot over her hand, coating her fingers, dripping onto your stomach.

"Seoyeon," you catch your breath by her name, your body trembling, her hand slowing but not stopping.

She scoops your cum, using it to lubricate your cock, her fingers slick and warm, stroking you back to hardness, her touch relentless, making you groan. "Shit..." you twitch, half-laughing, your cock rock-hard again under her skilled hand.

"Want you again," she whispers, her voice soft, climbing over you. She straddles you reverse, her ass perfect and round, her pussy glistening with your cum and her juices.

She looks back, her hair falling over her shoulder, "Like what you see?" she asks, her voice trembling

You nod, your hands gripping her hips, guiding her. She sinks down, your cock sliding deep into her tight, slick pussy, her moan loud and raw as she takes you fully.

"Oh god... so big," she gasps, her ass bouncing as she starts riding, slow at first, then faster, her hands braced on your thighs, her pussy gripping you tight.

You thrust up, meeting her rhythm, rough and deep, the wet slaps sounding, her juices dripping down your cock, soaking the sheets.

"Fuck, you're so good... damn that ass,” you growl, your hands squeezing her hips, guiding her harder, her moans desperate, her pussy milking you.

She leans backward, giving you a perfect view, her back arching, her pussy clenching, her breaths ragged.

You reach around, circling her clit with your fingers, fast and firm, and she cries out, her body trembling, her climax building fast.

"... cummin'," she whimpers, her voice breaking, her pussy pulsing, soaking you.

You keep rubbing her clit, thrusting deep, and she comes hard, her moan raw and shaky, her pussy spasming, her juices gushing, her body shaking as she rides out her orgasm, her ass bouncing, her hands gripping your thighs tight.

She slows, panting, her body trembling, you hold her hips, thrusting gently, keeping the connection, your cock still hard inside her.

She glances back, her smile shy, her eyes glassy with pleasure. "You... didn't cum," she murmurs soft.

Seoyeon shifts, her hand resting on your chest, her eyes heavy but warm. "We... should clean up," her voice shyness returning.

You nod, chuckling softly, and help her up, your legs tangled in the sheets.

You both share a quick shower, her body pressed close under the warm water, her hands tracing your chest in a sweet, affectionate way.

Back in the bedroom, you lend her another of your step sister's t-shirts, this one soft and blue, hanging loosely on her petite frame.

You pull on boxers, and you both climb into bed, the sheets fresh and cool against your skin.

Seoyeon curls into you, her head on your chest, her leg draped over yours. The lamp's off now, the quiet invites softer talk.

Her fingers trace your arm, and she speaks, "So... about Ms. Eunbi," she says,

"You really... have sex with her? What was it like?" she's not threatened, just interested.

You chuckle, your hand stroking her hair, "Yeah, it was... intense," you admit low.

"Ms. Eunbi's... confident, you know? Knows what she wants. I, uh... used to call her 'mommy' when you with her. Sort of it. She loved that."

Seoyeon's eyes widen, a soft giggle escaping, "Mommy?" she repeats,

"No argue with that… it's suit for her honestly." She props herself up, looking at you, her smile teasing. "You're full of surprises, huh?"

You laugh, pulling her closer, "Says the girl who just whispered filthy things in my ear," you tease back, and she buries her face in your chest, her giggle muffled.

"You okay with that? Me and Eunbi, I mean. It's..." you stammers.

She cut with nods, lifting her head, "Yeah, I'm okay," she says.

"It's kind of... hot, honestly. Maybe... she can be my mommy too..." she giggled, crunching her little nose.

Sunday morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow across your bedroom.

Seoyeon lies beside you, still asleep, her small body curled under the sheets, her face peaceful, her lips slightly parted, her hair a gentle mess across the pillow.

You wake up first, your body heavy but rested, careful not to disturb her as you slip out of bed, the sheets rustling faintly.

You head to the bathroom, taking a quick piss. You splash water on your face, your nose still faintly sore from Yunho's knee

You return to the bedroom, your boxers snug, your cock stirring in a morning wood phase, you barely notice until you're back by the bed.

You slide in carefully, but nudge Seoyeon softly, your hand brushing her arm.

Her eyes flutter open, blinks, sleepy but warm, her smile small and instant as she sees you.

"Morning," she mumbles, her voice husky, stretching slightly, the t-shirt riding up to show a sliver of her stomach.

"Sorry for waking you," you say, your voice soft, but she shakes her head, her smile reassuring, her hand reaching to touch your arm.

"It's fine," she says, her tone gentle, her eyes crinkling, "A nudge's nothing."

She shifts closer, her gaze dropping, and her eyes widen slightly, a playful glint sparking as she notices your morning wood, your cock up in your boxers.

"So... morning wood's real, huh?" she teases, her voice soft.

Before you can respond, her hand slips under the sheets, her fingers wrapping around your cock, stroking slowly, her grip warm and teasing, sending a jolt through you.

"Seoyeon..." you groan, your voice rough, your hips twitching as she pumps you, her thumb brushing your tip, spreading precum, her touch light but deliberate.

She giggles softly, her cheeks pink, her eyes locked on yours, watching your reaction, "Feels nice?" she whispers, leaning closer, her lips brushing your jaw.

"Let me take care of this..." her strokes quicken, her hand slick with your precum, and you grip the sheets, the pleasure building fast.

Her deliberate pumps send pleasure spiking through you, your groan rough, your hips twitching under her touch.

She is slowing, your cock throbbing under her grip, "Nu uh.. don't cum out yet" she said, before you can respond, she shifts duck under the sheets, her small body disappearing beneath.

The sheet, hiding her, and you chuckle, "Seoyeon, what're you-" you lift the sheet, peeking underneath the sheet.

She's there, her face inches from your cock, her lips parted, her breath warm against your skin, your cock throbbing harder.

She glances up, meeting your gaze, her shy smile turning sly, "Just... relax," she whispers, her voice muffled under the sheet, and before you can respond, her lips close around your tip, soft and warm, sucking gently.

"Fuck..." you groan, your head falling back, your hand gripping the sheet as she takes you deeper, her tongue swirling, her mouth tight and wet.

She moans softly, the vibration humming through your cock, her small hands gripping your thighs, steadying herself as she bobs, savoring you.

Her oral is slow at first, exploratory, her lips sliding down your shaft, her tongue flicking the underside, tasting your precum.

"You're... so big," she murmurs, her voice muffled, pulling back to lick your tip, her lips glossy, her eyes flicking up to check your reaction.

You lift the sheet higher, watching her work, the sight of her small mouth stretched around you driving you wild.

She grows bolder, taking you deeper, her throat relaxing, her moans needy, her saliva dripping, making it slick and messy.

"Seoyeon... that's so good," you gasp, your hand sliding to her head, not pushing but guiding, your fingers tangling in her hair.

She hums, sucking harder, her lips tight, her tongue relentless, she rocking slightly as she works you, her pussy likely wet again from the act.

The pleasure builds fast, her mouth too perfect, and you feel the edge approaching, your hips twitching, your cock throbbing in her throat.

"I'm..." your voice warn, strained,

She doesn't pull back, her moans urging you on, her lips locked around you.

"Fuck!" you snapped, grabbed her hair.

Your release hitting hard, cum flooding her mouth, hot and thick, her soft gasp muffled.

She swallows, her throat working, taking every drop. She pulls back slowly, licking your tip clean, her lips swollen, her eyes glassy with satisfaction, a small smile curling as she peeks up at you.

You arm drop to the sheet, panting, and she crawls out, her face flushed.

"All done, morning wood gone," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Fuck that was... perfect," you murmur, your voice rough, your arms wrapping around her.

She snuggles into you and you hold her close, her giggle muffled against your chest.

"Guess we should... eat something," her voice sleepy, lifting her head, her eyes glinting searching yours.

"Yeah, breakfast sounds good," you say, your voice rough, sliding out of bed, your boxers snug, your morning wood eased but your body still buzzing from her touch.

The kitchen's cozy, the counter cluttered with your groceries from yesterday, and she starts cracking eggs into a bowl, humming softly, her chamomile scent mixing with the butter sizzling in the pan.

You lean against the counter, watching her, her here, in your space, choosing you. Your cock hardens again, the sight of her bending slightly to grab a spatula, her t-shirt lifting to show the curve of her ass, pushing you over the edge.

You step behind her, your hands sliding to her hips, your lips brushing her neck, making her gasp, the spatula pausing mid air.

"What... now?" she murmurs, her voice warm, leaning back into you, her ass pressing against your growing bulge, her shyness warring with desire.

"Want you... right here," you whisper, your hands lifting her t-shirt, revealing her bare pussy, still slick from last night.

She chills, her breath hitching, the eggs forgotten as you slide your fingers brushing her folds, finding her wet and ready.

"Keep cooking," you tease, your lips grazing her ear, and she giggles, nervous but eager, gripping the counter.

"While... you...?" she starts, but your cock nudges her entrance, cutting her off, and she moans soft, her hands clutching the spatula.

You thrust in slowly, her tight pussy gripping you, her gasp loud as you fill her.

"Oh... god," she whimpers, her body rocking with your slow, deep thrusts, her pussy soaking you, her juices start dripping down her thighs.

Your hands gripping her hips, fucking her steadily, controlled. She tries, stirring the eggs clumsily, her moans mixing with the crackle of butter, her ass bouncing against you.

"So fucking tight... Seoyeon," you growl, thrusting harder, her pussy clenching, her breaths ragged.

"I can't..." she gasps, her voice breaking, dropping the spatula, her hands holding the counter as you pound her, the wet slaps echoing, her pussy milking you, her climax building fast.

You reach around, circling her clit with your fingers, fast and firm, and she cries out, her body shaking, her pussy pulsing, her juices gushing as she comes, she moan, her legs panting.

"Fuck..." you groan, your thrusts relentless, her pussy still spasming, pushing you closer, she leans forward, her breasts pressing against the counter, her moans urging you on.

"I'll cum... inside," you warn.

"Please... do it," she gasps.

"Ergh!" you let go, cum flooding her pussy, hot and thick, her walls gripping you, taking every drop.

Her body trembling, her pussy twitching around your softening cock as you both pant, the eggs slightly burnt, the kitchen a mess of sex and breakfast.

You pull out slowly, your cum dripping from her pussy, and she turns, her face flushed, her smile shy, kissing you messily, her lips warm and eager.

"Breakfast... ruined," she murmurs, giggling, and you laugh, pulling her close, your hands on her ass.

"Worth it," you say, kissing her forehead, helping her salvage the eggs, the toast half-toasted, the butter melted.

A week has passed since that intimate night with Seoyeon, and your life shift very great.

Seoyeon has moved into your apartment, her presence filling the space with a warmth you hadn't realized you craved.

Her clothes now hang in your closet next to your step sister's old t-shirts, her chamomile tea sits on the kitchen counter, and her shy smiles greet you each morning.

She ended things with Yunho decisively, texting you that Monday after she confronted him at her place. "It's over," her message read, simple but heavy, followed by, "I'm free." You didn't press for details, sensing her need for space, but her strength in walking away solidified your bond.

At the office, no one knows you and Seoyeon are together. You both agreed to keep it quiet for now, avoiding gossip and the complications of Eunbi and Saerom drama. Seoyeon slips back into her reserved office self, quiet, focused, her tablet glowing as she works, but you catch her stealing glances at you, her lips twitching into a secret smile, a silent promise of your shared life outside work.

It's Friday evening now, Seoyeon's curled on the sofa in one of your hoodies, her legs tucked under her, scrolling through her phone for gym routines, shess serious about your plan to get stronger together.

You're in the kitchen, tossing together a quick stir fry, the scent of soy sauce and garlic filling the air.

"You sure you’re ready for deadlifts?" you tease, glancing over, and she laughs, her voice light, freer than it's ever been.

"I'll outlift you by next month," she shoots back, her shy grin bold. She sets her phone down, joining you in the kitchen, her small frame brushing yours as she steals a piece of bell pepper.

"Monday's when we start the gym, right?" she asks, leaning against the counter, her hoodie sleeves slipping over her hands.

"And... maybe we talk about us? At work? I don't want to hide forever." Her voice is soft.

"Monday. We'll figure out how to tell the other. And gym's a date."

You’re ready to build everything with her, step by step.

332 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 7 days ago

Text

Hybrid Theory XIV

Well this came out earlier than we thought.

The heavy scent of sandalwood and expensive liquor clung to the air of the private lounge as Sejeong—sleek, poised, and every bit the predator in heels—leaned back against the velvet couch. Her nine tails twitched behind her in irritation, the golden rings adorning them chiming softly with each movement. Her gaze, a gleaming amber, swept across the room with thinly veiled contempt.

She tapped a clawed finger against the lacquered armrest, the sound sharp as a blade.

“Someone want to explain to me,” she said coolly, “how a single deputy sheriff managed to shut down a third of our operations in one night?”

Silence answered first. Then, one of her lieutenants—a wiry rat hybrid named Mikko—finally spoke, his voice shaky.

“I-I think it was that new guy, ma’am. The rookie. Tohru something. We underestimated him.”

Sejeong raised an eyebrow, her lip curling.

“Underestimated?” she echoed, her voice like frost. “He’s a deputy. Not a warlock. Why hasn’t this eager little badge boy been dealt with?”

Mikko grimaced, exchanging nervous glances with the others. “He’s always one step ahead, boss. It’s like he knows our moves before we make ’em. He even busted the drop at the docks before we unloaded.”

Sejeong’s tail snapped with agitation. “So either we have a mole, or this Tohru’s a damn oracle.”

Fed up with the incompetence in the room, she stood up, heels clicking against the marble floor as she crossed to the nearest tablet. With a few swipes, she pulled up a video—“Deputy Sheriff Tohru: The Future of Hybrid Law Enforcement”—a glossy PR piece with drone footage, dramatic music, and a B-roll of Tohru handing out balloons to children after drop-kicking a gang member into a dumpster.

She stared at the screen. Her ears flattened. The air around her went still.

Her expression twisted.

“…Nope,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Nope. I quit. I’m done.”

She turned off the tablet with a dramatic swipe and spun on her heel.

“Boss?” Mikko blinked, stunned. “Wait—do you know Tohru?”

Sejeong didn’t answer immediately. She paused at the threshold, her voice low and venomous.

“I know that face,” she said. “That man is a psychopath with a smile. And I’m not getting dragged into another chapter of his redemption arc.”

And with that, she stormed out of the hideout.

Two hours later, she was curled up on the couch at her mother’s house in sweatpants, a glass of wine in hand, muttering to herself, “I should’ve continued my career and education…”

The office was quiet—too quiet. Fluorescent lights hummed softly overhead as I finished signing off on a mountain of reports for Sheriff Anubis Krueger. Most of the team had already clocked out; the bustle of hybrid and human officers gradually trickled into silence, leaving me alone in the dim glow of my desk lamp.

The loneliness clung to me like an old shadow, familiar and unwelcome. It reminded me of the cold halls of Project Abraxis—the sterile silence, the feeling of being watched even when no one was there. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that memory anymore. Sometimes it felt like it belonged to another life… sometimes it felt like it was still happening.

A sudden knock broke the quiet, and before I could answer, a cheerful voice called out.

“Hey, hellhound!”

Eunbi strolled in like a breeze through a shut window. The ever-bubbly bunny hybrid’s ears perked up as she plopped down in the seat across from me, her oversized hoodie swishing with the movement. She offered a bright grin, one of the few things in this world that still felt uncomplicated.

“I heard you took down another mafia outfit,” she said, nudging a folder on my desk with a finger. “Word is the Fior family’s officially disbanding. That makes what—four this month?”

I sighed, not looking up from my paperwork.

Eunbi laughed. “What’s wrong, Mr. Hero? You save the city, and all you get is a medal and depression?”

“You know it’s not about the glory,” I muttered.

“Yeah, I know,” she said, her voice softening. “My poor lonely buddy who still pines after the only girl he ever loved—the one who disappeared without a trace.”

I clenched my jaw. “I don’t blame her. After Abraxis… everything changed. I’ve felt alone ever since.”

There was a brief silence before Eunbi leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand.

“You wanna go on a date?” she teased, flashing a wink.

I laughed, the first real one all day. “Your boyfriend would love that.”

“He’d get over it. Maybe.” She giggled. “Anyway, here’s a better idea. Go to Nayeon’s this weekend. I might know someone—someone better. You trust me, right?”

“Always,” I said, smiling faintly. “Alright. I’ll go.”

“Great!” Eunbi said, hopping up from her seat. But before she left, her expression shifted—more serious, more grounded. She turned back to me and said quietly, “Mycroft… it’s not your fault. What happened in Abraxis… you did what you had to do.”

I looked at her for a long second before nodding. “Yeah,” I said. “I know.”

But deep down, I wasn’t sure if I believed it yet.

After Eunbi left, her gentle reassurance still echoing in my ears, I returned to my desk only to notice one of the case reports still glowing on my screen—unclosed, unresolved.

A black cat burglar.

I remembered skimming it before, assuming it was another petty thief just nimble enough to avoid the average patrol. But as I reviewed the details with fresh eyes, I noticed a pattern—or rather, a lack of one.

She didn’t just steal valuables or weapons. She took specific, curious items:

—An experimental enhancement drug from a biotech lab.

—Tactical claw attachments developed for hybrid enforcement squads.

—A prototype stealth suit, reportedly decommissioned but still fully functional.

—And strangest of all, a family heirloom—a timepiece belonging to the now-defunct Duvaincourt lineage, obliterated in the mafia wars.

None of the thefts were violent. No guards injured. No civilians harmed. Just holes in walls, missing equipment, and security camera loops erased like chalk off a board. She was precise. Purposeful. Yet inconsistent.

Either a highly competent criminal… or someone desperate. Homeless, even.

I leaned back, pinching the bridge of my nose as the headache settled in. After several more hours and a dozen cross-references with other unsolved cases, I gave up for the night.

⸻

A few days later…

The CONHA Gala was in full swing. Velvet drapes, chandeliers, and a thousand polished shoes pacing across marble floors. I didn’t even remember which award I was getting—something about “bridging enforcement gaps.” It sounded nice. Decorative. Like the badge.

I barely made it through the entrance before Jiwoo swooped in and looped her arm around mine. She looked radiant in a silver-blue gown, her sliver fox ears poking through artfully done platinum blonde hair. “There he is! Mr. Public Safety himself.” her white fur tail wagged happily.

“Jiwoo,” I greeted with a nod, but she was already dragging me toward the ballroom. I noticed that there was a spattering of wait staff with different color ties than the other wait staff and wondered what it was about.

“No one’s asking me to dance, and I refuse to let this dress go to waste. You’re my rescue date now, okay?”

I smirked, helpless against her energy. “Alright, alright.”

As we moved through the dance floor, swaying under soft lights and orchestra strings, I started to relax—at least, until I felt it.

A presence. Watching.

I glanced subtly over Jiwoo’s shoulder. Nothing obvious. But I knew eyes when they lingered too long.

“You keep scanning like we’re on patrol,” Jiwoo teased, pulling me closer. “Relax. Breathe.”

“I feel like I’m being watched.”

“You are,” she said casually. “You’re an award-winning human hybrid peacekeeper. Half the room wants to shake your hand. The other half wants to know how you smell so… safe.”

That pulled me up short. “How I smell?”

Jiwoo laughed softly. “You didn’t know? Your scent’s naturally calming to most hybrids. Subconscious, probably tied to your time with Krueger . You smell like safety. Like—” she squinted, sniffed jokingly near my collar, “—like rain after a fire. A lot of us pick up on it without realizing.”

I blinked, caught between confusion and flattery. “Is that why you’re always finding excuses to sit near me at lunch?”

She gave me a coy grin. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like the view.”

I chuckled, shaking my head, but the warmth of the moment was fleeting. That presence hadn’t left. Someone was still watching. Hidden in the crowd.

Jiwoo noticed my shift in mood. “You okay?”

“I will be,” I said, scanning once more—slower, more deliberate. “Eventually.”

As we moved, she leaned in closer than necessary. Her cheek brushed my shoulder, and I could feel her smile through the subtle shift in her scent—earthy, sharp, playful.

“You know you smell really good, right?” she said softly, chin tilted up to meet my eyes.

“Uh… deodorant?” I offered, genuinely confused.

She rolled her eyes, then smirked. “No, dummy. Your scent. It’s calming. That’s rare. Most humans smell like stress, chemicals, or fear. But you? You smell like Petrichor after a massive wildfire.” She inhaled as if confirming it. “You’re like an emotional support human.”

“Uh... thanks?” I said awkwardly. “Good to know I’m a walking aromatherapy session.”

She snorted. “Don’t undersell it. I’ve seen aggressive hybrids ease up just by standing near you.”

I scratched the back of my head, not quite sure how to take that. “I mean... I guess that’s useful on patrols.”

“It is. It’s why a lot of hybrids open up to you. You’re like…” she paused, searching for the right metaphor, “...like a soft-blanket-in-the-middle-of-winter type of presence.”

The band switched to a slower tempo. Jiwoo pulled me closer, arms now looped lazily around my neck as we danced. Her eyes shimmered with mischief and something else—hope, maybe.

But I missed it completely.

“Reminds me of my little cousin,” I said with a soft laugh. “She used to cling to me like this when she was scared of lightning storms.”

Jiwoo blinked. “...You’re comparing me to a scared ten-year-old?”

I smiled fondly. “No, just saying you’ve got that same tough-but-soft energy. Like a big-hearted bruiser.”

She buried her face against my chest with a muffled groan. “You’re so dumb sometimes.”

“What? Did I say something weird?”

“No, Torhu,” she muttered, “you said exactly what someone would say when they don’t realize they’re being hit on.”

I blinked. “Wait, wha—?”

She just chuckled, content to rest against me a little longer, even if I was hopeless.

A few moments later, Nayeon—fellow Shepherd and owner of the karaoke bar/arcade I frequented after long shifts—drifted through the crowd toward me, glass of soju in hand and a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Well, you clean up nice, Mr. Hero,” she teased, giving me a once-over that made me self-conscious despite the praise.

Before I could respond, Jiwoo clung tighter to my arm and pouted up at her.

“Please, unnie, let him be mine tonight?” she whined, the exaggerated tone just shy of playful begging.

Nayeon exhaled in mock exasperation, then leaned in and kissed Jiwoo on the cheek. “Sorry, Jiwoo-ah. I need to borrow him for a grown-up conversation.”

Jiwoo groaned dramatically before peeling herself off of me and flouncing away into the crowd, already scanning for someone new to shower her affection on.

Once we had a bit of space, Nayeon grabbed my wrist gently, steering me toward a quieter alcove of the event hall.

“So,” she said, tilting her head, “the Deputy Star Sheriff’s all alone tonight. Why?”

I gave her a dry look. “You of all people know why.”

Her expression softened. “Yeah… I do. I’m sorry Sejeong ghosted after the whole Project Abraxis mess. That wasn’t fair. But there’s a sea of eligible bachelorettes out there tonight—human and hybrid alike. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly.

I snorted. “Sure, maybe I’ll finally talk to Jeongyeon. You’re always going on about how amazing she is.”

Nayeon choked on her drink mid-sip, eyes wide. “Jeongyeon is my husband, you absolute jerk.”

I grinned. “I know. Not so fun when the teasing’s on the other foot, is it?”

She smacked my arm with the back of her hand, then smiled with reluctant amusement before her tone shifted.

“Have you been monitoring the situation with the good doctor?”

I nodded, voice lowering. “Yeah. She’s panicked, but also being a lot more careful. That’s a win for us. The predator spirals and prey paranoia syndrome outbreaks were getting out of hand. Plus, with Mina tailing that lion-komodo hybrid full-time, nothing... should surprise us.”

“Good.” She nodded, visibly relieved, then took another sip from her glass. “Alright, I’m heading back to my actual husband now. Have fun tonight. Maybe seal the deal with Jiwoo. Girl’s clearly interested in you.”

I chuckled. “She’s a little too young for me.”

“Oh? The infamous voracious hellhound of rigorous appetites finally has a limit?”

“Nay. I’ve always had limits,” I said softly, letting the words hang in the air for just a moment too long.

Nayeon caught the note in my voice, studied me, then offered a small, sincere smile. “That’s why we trust you, y’know. You burn hot, but you burn clean.”

She squeezed my arm gently, then turned to leave, her heels clicking against the marble as she vanished back into the crowd.

After that I felt the call of nature and excused myself from the dance floor with a polite nod to Jiwoo, who itching to cling to my arm for just a moment longer than necessary before reluctantly letting me go.

“I’ll be right back,” I promised, unaware of how Jiwoo watched me leave with a soft sigh and a pout that was anything but sisterly.

The soft lighting of the gala hall gave way to the cooler, dimmer corridor leading to the restrooms. I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders as I walked, the weight of the evening catching up with me. The scent of polished marble and expensive cologne clung to the air, but there was something else, too—something more natural, faintly floral and wild. I paused for just a second, eyes narrowing. A shift in the atmosphere.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, not far away on an upper overlook, two hybrids stood partially behind a curtain near one of the decorative indoor trees. One was lithe and lean, draped in a fitted satin dress that shifted like liquid smoke—Chaewon, a sleek blend of clouded leopard, tiger, and cheetah. Her gold-flecked eyes tracked my every movement with trained caution. Next to her, resting her chin on the railing like a lazy cat, was my friend Eunbi, a rabbit hybrid with soft, bouncing curls and a glint of mischief in her gaze.

“There he goes,” Eunbi whispered with a grin, nodding toward my retreating back. “You see what I mean?”

Chaewon scoffed quietly, her voice a low rumble. “That’s just the golden boy sheriff. Look at him. Straight-laced, polite, law-abiding. Probably makes his bed every morning and drinks protein shakes.”

Eunbi leaned in closer, her smile widening. “That’s what you think. that's what he wants everyone to think. But he’s not what he looks like on the surface. I’ve known him for years. There’s something under all that restraint. Something... with bite.”

Chaewon crossed her arms under her chest, her pout deepening. “He doesn’t even look at hybrids that way. I mean the way he shut down that cute dog fox hybrid who's clearly into him. He's not into us. At least not seriously. Probably just sees us as civilians to protect, not people to—”

“run wild with?” Eunbi offered, waggling her eyebrows.

Chaewon gave her a flat stare but her ears twitched slightly in amusement. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re curious,” Eunbi shot back, brushing a stray curl from her cheek. “And I’m telling you—Torhu might play the good guy, but you should see the way he grips a chair when he thinks no one’s watching or how he acts when the chips are down and the facade of the perfect hero cracks. he’s holding something back. Something strong, but also something needy.”

Chaewon tilted her head, eyes drifting back toward the corridor where Torhu had disappeared. “He hides it well.”

“Which makes it more fun, doesn’t it?” Eunbi leaned in conspiratorially. “Just keep watching him. You’ll see what I mean.”

Chaewon didn’t answer at first, her sharp eyes flicking back to the dance floor, then to the corridor again. Her mouth pressed into a slow, skeptical pout—plush and annoyed and undeniably intrigued.

“…Fine,” she muttered with a huff. “I’ll watch.”

Eunbi smirked and wrapped an arm around her waist. “That’s all I ask, darling. Just watch.”

“You may not want to go this way,” he said coolly. “We’re about to begin our demonstration.”

His tone was polite, but firm—rehearsed. And then I saw it: the blue insignia stitched into his lapel. The symbol of TOPH. The Order of Pure Humanity.

I gave a casual nod, feigning compliance, and turned on my heel—only to pivot smoothly behind him and slam him into the ground with a sudden suplex. He gasped as I drove the air from his lungs, and I followed up with a swift kick to his chest, just enough to knock him out cold. No lethal force—not yet. Not unless I had to.

I straightened my jacket and scanned the area. Three more—two men, one woman—all with ties subtly different from the rest of the guests, mismatched shades just enough to catch the eye. Operatives, clearly. They weren’t here to protest—they were here to send a message. And if I didn’t act carefully, someone was going to die.

I had no weapons. Neither did they, most likely. TOPH was many things, but subtle wasn’t one of them. That meant this wasn’t about brute force—it was a targeted strike. Judging by their eyes and posture, they were already zeroing in on someone.

I couldn’t go in guns blazing. Not in front of this crowd. Not while I was still wearing the “Golden Retriever” smile of the town’s cheerful deputy. I needed to work around them—distract, misdirect, stall.

Or maybe...

A plan started forming. Sloppy. Stupid. Perfect.

I let my shoulders sag, drew in a loose, wobbling breath, and stumbled forward like I’d had one too many. The swagger of a man who was two drinks past his limit and one belt short of his pants staying up.

The main hall was already packed. On stage, the leader of TOPH was droning on with all the faux-righteous fury of a man who'd never faced real pain. His voice rang with venomous conviction:

“Hybrids are a blight upon humanity, the result of arrogant science playing god. It’s our sacred duty to cleanse this world—”

I didn’t hear the rest. I was too busy drunkenly zigzagging toward the bar.

The bartender—a young terrier hybrid, no older than twenty—looked like she’d rather vanish than serve a drink. Her ears twitched nervously as I slouched onto the counter.

“One beer, pwease,” I slurred, my eyes half-lidded in a tipsy daze.

She hesitated, then shakily handed me the bottle with trembling paws before ducking down beneath the bar, eyes wide with fear.

Good girl.

That’s when the speech paused. Silence spread. All eyes turned to me.

The leader stepped off the stage, clearly irritated.

“I think it’s best if you leave,” he said as he approached, his measured voice barely hiding his contempt.

I swiveled lazily on my barstool to face him and grinned wide. “But I’m gettin’ a stupid award. For bein’ the bestest sheriff—wait—no. Deputy sheriff.” My voice wobbled like my stance.

He blinked. “Torhu,” he said with a rehearsed familiarity, “we’re conducting something very important here. I’d hate for you to get in the way... or get hurt.”

I reached out, wrapping an arm around his shoulder like we were old drinking buddies. He tensed.

“Ohhh,” I slurred, my grin lopsided. “Are you gettin’ an award too?”

He gave a thin, confused smile, unsure if I was mocking him or just drunk.

“No,” he said smoothly. “But we do have business with Mr. Savitar.”

He gestured behind him.

There, bound and gagged, was a hybrid eagle. Strong. Proud. Wings trembling, eyes filled with fury and panic.

And now I knew their target.

I leaned in, still playing the drunk.

“Well,” I muttered, voice just low enough for him to hear, “this is about to get real messy.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

Before he could react, I headbutted him—hard. I slamed my skull into his chest leaving him disoriented before smashing the beer bottle into his skull. the glass shattered knocking him out cold. the man collapsed.

As I did that Eunbi and Chaewon continued to watch from the vantage point. Chaewon confused by my act said,

"He's literally had nothing to drink not even water. Why is he acting drunk?"

Eunbi smirked as she answered, "to preserve the illusion," she said as I hit the leader with an RKO. Chaewon pouted her curved lips pursed with intrigue,

"What facade?" she asked as she watched me run to another TOPH Member before hitting them with sweet chin music and suplexing another right after, while I carried my

"The Facade you hate, the goody two-shoe deputy sheriff. He hates playing it, but is really good at playing it,"

Chaewon looked at me as I threw another TOPH member into another one,

"So then what is he?"

"A predator like you, he just uses camouflage and ambush tactics," Eunbi said with a smile as I finished the rest of the TOPH members before sighing and faux collapsing onto the floor and faked sleeping the crowd cheered as they all focused on freeing Mr. Savitar.

Aurelio and Amalia were also watching and he turned to Amalia who watched in terror, and said, "See he's a dumb officer who lucked into that victory,"

but both Amalia and Chaewon knew that that was only an act and it sent a shiver down both Hybrid's spines.

After the other partygoers had gone off to check on Mr. Savitar—and to make sure the TOPH members were properly arrested—I found myself at a table tucked away from all the chaos. That’s when Eunbi approached, bringing another hybrid along with her.

"Impressive display, Torhu," Eunbi said with a smirk, then gestured to the girl beside her. She was clearly a blend of several big cats—cheetah, leopard, tiger—each traceable in her features.

The hybrid gave me a coy smile as she slid into the seat next to mine.

"Enjoy," Eunbi said, then disappeared into the crowd.

I turned to look at the girl—she was definitely cute, but guarded. Her feline ears twitched slightly on top of her head, and her twin tails flicked behind her with nervous energy. Then I noticed the timepiece hanging around her neck—the same one the infamous cat burglar had stolen not too long ago.

She caught my gaze and tilted her head.

"See something you like?"

I blinked, realizing I'd been staring. "Not really into family heirlooms."

She smirked. "You're not as dumb as you look."

I chuckled. "My dad used to say, ‘When people want to act a fool, you show 'em you're not one.’"

That got a reaction—her posture relaxed just a bit. More open, still sharp. But closer now.

Now that I could really see her, I realized—she was adorable. Those golden eyes, the ears, the faintest whisker markings at the corners of her cheeks. Damn.

"So Eunbi calls you ‘Mycroft.’ What’s that about?"

"It was my codename during Project Abraxis," I said, trying not to sound like I cared about the title.

"Wait. You were in Project Abraxis?" Her brow furrowed. "But you're so... soft."

I gave a mock sigh, stood, and stretched. "Okay. I like you now. We’re dating."

Her eyes widened. "Oh? And when exactly was that decision made?"

"About five seconds ago. I’m getting ice cream. Are you coming? My treat."

She narrowed her eyes, clearly trying to figure out what game I was playing. Then she stood and nodded. "Fine. But only because I want mint chocolate."

"Blegh" I feigned retching as I opened my arm so she could loop hers with mine. She took it and began purring. I smirked as we walked out

As we walked off, Eunbi watched from a balcony above, shaking her head with a sly grin.

"Oh, she’s going to rail him tonight," she muttered before strolling off to find her own pack.

The neon lights of the city smeared across the windshield like melting paint as we drove toward the old ice cream parlor—one of the few places still standing that didn’t reek of gang tags or blood. I glanced over at the hybrid beside me, her ears twitching under her hood like she was still expecting to bolt.

“So,” I started, keeping my voice casual. “Do you want me to call you Cipher, or do you have a regular name that doesn’t sound like you’re about to hack into a corporate vault?”

She blinked, surprised. “Chaewon,” she said after a beat, her tone sharp, like I’d just taken a swing at her defenses.

I grinned, leaning into the name. “Chaewon? As in the Kim Chaewon? Like the old dynasty princess before the gangs bulldozed this city into a warzone?”

She gave a crooked nod, amused but cautious. “Yeah. Something like that.”

I kept my eyes on the road but could feel her watching me, tense like a coil ready to snap. “Alright, then, Chaewon,” I said, drawing her name out. “Let’s drop the performance. You gonna tell me if this is a setup, or am I walking into a trap flirting with you?”

She snorted. “Me? Please. You’re the one who’s the damn deputy. Spill it, Sheriff Saint. Is this your ploy to get me alone so you can slap cuffs on me?”

I groaned, dragging a hand through my hair. “No! I only go after bad people, not criminals.”

She arched a brow, like I was speaking some strange dialect. “What’s the difference?”

“Bad people hurt others. Criminals just break laws. You can be one without being the other.”

That stopped her.

She went quiet—too quiet. Her head tilted slightly, cat-like, like she was reading between the lines of my soul. Then her pupils dilated, wide and dark and wild. For a second, I thought I’d scared her. I eased my foot off the gas, ready to stop if she needed air—

And then she pounced.

In one fluid motion, she was out of her seat and in mine, straddling my lap as the car coasted to a halt on the side of the cracked road. Her thighs pressed against mine, hot and tense with adrenaline. Her hands grabbed either side of my face, fingers trembling with intensity—like she’d been holding this inside her way too long.

“You’re trouble,” she whispered.

I barely got out a breath. “So are you.”

Then she kissed me—desperate, fevered, like something inside her was breaking and I was the only thing holding it together. And I kissed her back, because God help me, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

She broke the kiss, her breath catching as her golden eyes widened—her pupils blown so wide they nearly swallowed her irises. The sharpness of her feline features softened, her expression blooming into something equal parts shy and predatory.

“You know,” she murmured, voice low and syrupy, “you’re the first person who’s ever pieced together who I really am.”

“Seriously? Just me?” I asked, surprised.

She nodded slowly, like she was savoring the weight of the truth. I couldn’t help but grin. And before I could second-guess myself, my hand reached up and gently scratched behind her ears. The moment I did, her head tilted into my touch and a deep, rumbling purr vibrated through her chest—so loud and content it almost made me melt.

She closed her eyes, smiling like she hadn’t smiled in a long time. But after a moment, she pulled herself away from my lap with reluctant grace and settled back into her seat, still watching me like I was some confusing puzzle she wasn’t sure she wanted to solve yet.

“You’re a bad guy,” Chaewon said suddenly, narrowing her eyes at me with a mock-accusing tilt of her head.

“Wait—what?” I blinked at her. “How?”

“You’ve got a scent like warm blankets on a freezing night,” she said, voice featherlight. “And you knew exactly where to touch me. You’re evil.”

I stared at her, then smirked. “Oh yeah? Well if I’m evil, you’re just as bad. A cute, crazy girl with sharp teeth and a sweet little heart.”

Her cheeks flushed and she looked away, flustered. “How do you know I’m sweet?”

“Easy,” I said with a grin, putting the car back in gear. “Anyone who’s friends with Eunbi has to be sweet. It’s like a rule of the universe.”

Chaewon laughed, soft and genuine. It made my chest feel too small for my heart.

“So,” she said slyly, “why aren’t you dating her then?”

“She sees me as a little brother,” I shrugged. “But you’ll do.”

I let the last part hang in the air, delivered with a teasing edge. I didn’t want her to think I was pushing too fast, but I also didn’t want to pretend I wasn’t feeling something real between us.

Chaewon gave me a playful glare and smacked my arm. “Okay, Mr. Deputy. Eyes on the road.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, smiling as I pulled us back into the quiet rhythm of the night drive—though my mind was anything but quiet.

The bell above the door jingled as we walked into the parlor, a little joint that somehow still stood untouched amidst all the upheaval. Neon signs hummed overhead. The sweet, heady scent of waffle cones and fudge swirled through the air like a trap, and Chaewon looked around like a kid in a candy store—if that kid also happened to be sitting on your lap kissing you five minutes ago.

We slid into a booth. She chose the seat across from me, but sat sideways, one leg curled up under her, chin resting on her hand as she watched me with those eyes that knew too much. She looked deceptively casual, but there was a fire flickering under the surface. I was trying not to catch it.

“So,” I said, trying to ground us in something—anything. “You strike me as a mint-chocolate kind of girl.”

She blinked, then gave me this crooked grin that hit way too hard. “What, because I’m refreshing and a little bitter?”

“Because you’re unconventional but with charm.”

She laughed, really laughed, and leaned over the table. “Okay, okay, Deputy Smart Mouth. What does that make you? Vanilla?”

I smirked. “Vanilla’s underrated. Everyone loves vanilla. It’s dependable.”

Her tongue flicked across her bottom lip. “You don’t strike me as very dependable.”

I leaned forward, just a bit, caught her gaze. “Only because you don’t know me yet.”

And there it was again—that pull. That damn tether between us, tight and hot and sharp around the edges.

The kid at the counter called out our order and I was grateful for the interruption. I stood to grab it, but she trailed behind me, not even pretending to keep her distance. Our fingers brushed as she took her sundae from my hand, and it was electric. She didn’t pull away.

We returned to the booth, but this time she slid in next to me instead of across. Way too close. I could feel the warmth of her thigh against mine.

Chaewon swirled her spoon in her bowl without looking at me. “So what’s your deal, Torhu? Are you always this… gallant? Or am I a special case?”

“I don’t know yet,” I said, voice quieter than I meant it to be. “You’re not what I expected.”

She gave me a sideways glance, eyes glinting. “You expected someone more dangerous?”

“I expected someone I wouldn’t like so much.”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned her head against my shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. And I let her. No—I wanted her to. The air between us was thick with all the things we weren’t saying, and the silence felt like a held breath.

“I’m not good for you,” she murmured, like it was a warning.

I stared ahead at the neon glow reflected in the window. “Well lucky me I’m in the mood for something bad for me.”

She turned her face toward mine, so close I could feel her breath. My heart was pounding like it didn’t know who it was beating for anymore.

Neither of us moved to kiss. Not yet. But the space between us was a live wire, and we were both wet from the storm, cold and electric.

Chaewon’s hand brushed mine. I held it.

Not because it made sense. Not because it was safe.

But because it felt real. And because, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was pretending to be anything at all. She smiled then recoiled as if holding back. I furrowed my brow but didn’t push as I felt Chaewon clench. I sighed but let her do her thing.

The ride back was quiet, but not in the uncomfortable way. More like the kind of silence that thrums with energy just under the surface — a shared tension neither of us could quite name without making it too real.

Chaewon sat tilted in her seat, one knee pulled up, eyes flicking between me and the window, like she was bracing herself for something. The warm lights of the city flickered across her features, casting her in a golden glow that made her look equal parts dangerous and divine.

I could still taste her laugh in the air from earlier — bright and sharp, the way it slipped out when I made a dumb joke about leopard spots being nature’s camo for mischief. She rolled her eyes then, but her smile betrayed her. She liked it. She liked me.

When I pulled up in front of her place — a small, weathered loft perched above what looked like an abandoned flower shop — she didn’t move right away. Just unbuckled her seatbelt and turned slowly toward me, eyes huge and gleaming in the low light, pupils dilated, chin dipped ever so slightly. Watching me like something between a lover and a predator.

“What, no goodbye kiss?” I asked, trying to sound teasing, light — like my heart wasn’t hammering hard enough to crack bone.

She blinked once. Slow. Then leaned in, warm breath ghosting along my jaw. “You sure you want that?”

“I’m pretty sure I haven’t wanted anything else all night.”

She smiled, but it wasn’t flirty. It was… haunted. Like she was already grieving something neither of us had said aloud. Her fingers brushed the door handle, then stopped. She hesitated. Turned back toward me, voice soft but vibrating with something raw and caged.

“If you come up… you’re mine.”

The words struck like a bullet made of silk — not a tease, not a threat, but a claim. A vow buried in instinct and need.

She looked away, just for a second, then forced herself to meet my gaze again. “I mean it, Torhu. Hybrids like me… we don’t play. We don’t try people on to see how they fit. If I take you — even for a night — I keep you. It’s how we’re wired.”

I swallowed hard, a noise escaping me that could’ve been a laugh or a growl. “You say that like it’s supposed to scare me.”

“It should.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t get to walk back out. There’s no ‘let’s take it slow,’ no backup plans, no reset buttons. You come upstairs… you’re mine. Or you’re dead.”

Her eyes flickered, not with cruelty — but with the bone-deep truth of it. A sacred law written in her blood.

I could see it then. The nervous energy rippling under her skin. Not fear of me — fear for me. Because if I crossed that threshold, she wouldn’t hold back. She wouldn’t let herself.

And she didn’t know if I could handle that.

She shifted, maybe thinking I was about to bolt, maybe trying to give me the chance to — but I reached out, fingers gently curling around her wrist. She froze.

“Give me a second,” I said quietly, “I need to organize my thoughts.”

She didn’t pull away. Just stood there, waiting, ears perked slightly.

“Chae,” I said, her name strange and intimate on my tongue. Her ears twitched at the sound.

“If we do this… I need you to know a few things. First — Torhu’s not my real name. Neither is Mycroft. Second — I’m not a hero. I’m not a good man. But I would never hurt you. Not on purpose. If I say something dumb or call you a stupid nickname, it’s not because I’m trying to make you feel small. I just… forget how to be soft sometimes.”

Chaewon’s eyes narrowed fondly. Then she rolled them, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Babe… you’re rambling.”

I exhaled, a low huff of a laugh. “Right. Okay. Last thing. If we do this — really do this — I need to know you’re just as locked in as I am. No halfway. No exit ramps. We do this… it’s ride or die. Forever. Are you sure you want that?”

She tilted her head at me, feline and curious, like she couldn’t believe I’d even ask. Then she whispered, steady as steel wrapped in velvet:

“Why would you think I’d leave?”

I didn’t answer right away. Just looked at her — really looked — and then let it out.

“Because everyone has.”

The words landed like a bruise. She winced — not because she didn’t believe me, but because she did. Because now she understood.

She wasn’t the only one putting her heart on the altar tonight.

We both were.

My hand found hers instinctively. “So if I come in… what happens?”

Her lips brushed my cheek as she whispered, “Then I make you mine. Body. Soul. Every breath you’ve got left.”

The silence after was thick with heat. My heart thundered in my chest like it was trying to warn me and urge me forward all at once. She stepped out of the car, then looked over her shoulder, her eyes daring me.

And all I could think was:

God help me, I hope she does.

I stood in the hallway outside her apartment, the hum of the city muffled by thick walls and a flickering light overhead that made everything feel strangely intimate. Chaewon’s keys jingled as she unlocked the door with practiced ease. She turned to face me, the light catching in her amber eyes like embers barely contained.

Her tails twitched once. Twice. Then stilled.

“You sure?” she asked softly. “If you come inside, you’re mine.”

I tried to play it cool. “That a promise or a threat?”

She didn’t smile. “For my kind, there’s no difference.”

I swallowed, feeling that hot flush rising again, the same one I’d been fighting off since the moment we left the ice cream parlor. She had this wild, restless energy to her—like a storm in waiting. Beautiful, unpredictable, dangerous in the way cliffs are dangerous: you know it’s dumb to get close, but something in you wants to leap.

She stepped back, just far enough to let me pass through the doorway if I chose.

I hesitated. I should’ve turned around. Should’ve gone home and locked that heat in a box again, like I always do.

Instead, I stepped inside.

The door closed behind me with a soft click that sounded more like a seal being drawn than a lock turning. Her apartment smelled like citrus and cedarwood—warm and sharp. She tossed her bag on a chair and turned to face me, slowly pulling her dress off, revealing a lacy number that did nothing to hide the swell of muscle and curve beneath.

She watched me like I was prey.

“I told you,” she murmured. “Now it’s too late.”

I raised an eyebrow, heart pounding in my ears. “For what?”

Chaewon took a step forward. “For you to pretend this isn’t happening.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Her hands were on me in the next breath, one pressing against my chest, the other curling into my shirt like she could drag the truth out of me.

I met her halfway.

The kiss wasn’t soft this time. It was desperate, like we’d been holding something back all night and now the floodgates were open. She moaned against my mouth, dragging me toward the couch, her tail curling around my leg possessively.

“You smell like restraint,” she growled between kisses. “I want to rip that off of you.”

“You’re not the only one holding back,” I whispered, gripping her waist, feeling the heat of her skin through her clothes.

She pushed me back until we fell together into the cushions, her weight straddling me, hands exploring like she had every right—and I didn’t stop her. Couldn’t.

“I meant what I said,” she warned again, even as her lips grazed my jaw, her breath hot and ragged. “You’re mine now. I’m not built to share. I won’t let you go.”

I stared up at her, dazed, wrecked, exhilarated. “Then don’t.”

Something in her snapped at that—maybe it was relief, maybe it was hunger. But it made her growl, low and reverberating through her whole chest as she kissed me again, deeper this time, more than lust, something primal and claiming.

“Take off that stupid suit!” Chaewon growled. I did as she asked with her staring at me the whole time ravenous.

The moment her restraint snapped, it was as if a locked door burst open within her mind, unleashing something primal and unfiltered. Her eyes flashed with fire, pupils expanding to swallow the amber iris, her breath ragged and ragged, and that growling vibration rumbled from her chest, deep and reverberating like war drums pounding in the storm’s undertow. It was hunger—more than hunger for flesh or blood, but for connection, for release, for claiming what had been denied for too long.

She lunged forward, and before I could even process it, a low growl escaped her throat, a sound rooted in feral territory—both warning and invitation. Her lips curled back, revealing sharpened teeth that shimmered menacingly under the dim light, a predator in her natural state. Her claws—long, curved, gleaming—slashed through the fabric of her resolve, piercing the air as she yanked me roughly into her arms. The fierce possessiveness in that moment was undeniable—she wasn’t just acting on instincts; she was asserting a claim, staking her territory in a way that left no room for ambiguity.

“Take off that stupid suit,” Chaewon growled, voice thick with suppressed fury and desire. Her voice was a command, commanding and commanding—an order from an alpha who had tasted the sweetness of surrender and now demanded it fully. Her eyes burned into mine, unblinking, hungry for vulnerability, for rawness. I hesitated only a second before obeying, unfastening the buttons, peeling off layers of fabric with trembling fingers, feeling her eyes burn into my skin, dissecting every movement, every inch exposed.

She watched every second, ravenous, as my hesitation turned into compliance. Her lips curled into a predatory smile, a hint of sharp amusement flashing across her features. “Fuck,” she purred, voice trembling with anticipation and something darker—something that transcended lust. “All mine now.” Her words were a vow, a curse, a blessing, but above all, a declaration of mastery.

Her claws—long and wicked—scratched along my shoulders as she pulled me into her fiercely. Her hands, trembling but driven by desperate need, pawed at my body, pulling and clutching, as if trying to tattoo her claim directly into my flesh. Her feverish kisses consumed my neck, my collarbone, my chest as she pressed her lips and teeth into every exposed inch, marking me with her scent—wild, dangerous, and intoxicating.

“I’ve been so lonely without a mate,” she stammered, voice choked with emotion, her lips brushing against my skin as tears—or maybe just the intensity—welled in her eyes. She maneuvered me backward, deeper into her den, into her sanctuary of plush blankets, cushions, and flickering candlelight. Her hunger was palpable, raw and unrestrained, as she left hundreds of desperate kisses on my shoulders, collarbone, and chest, her tongue tracing fiery streaks of her presence.

When I reached out to pull her closer, to deepen the moment, she sharply barked, “No!” her voice cutting through the thick air like a whip. Confused, I looked at her, searching her expression for softness or some hidden message—only for her to respond with a fierce, almost hypnotic command: “Fuck me now. Maybe we’ll kiss later.” Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, unambiguous in their primal tone.

Without hesitation, I nodded. Her eyes, wild and luminous, were locked onto mine. She took control fiercely, pushing me down onto a bedchamber of pillows, wrapping her arms around my waist, her body a heat signature pulsing with raw energy. She yanked my underwear down, her gaze hungry, and then, with a slow, deliberate motion, she slid downward, staking her claim in the most direct, unfiltered way. Her lithe, feral body moved with divine rhythm—graceful, intense, savage—each of her movements both sexy and raw, as if she reveled in the act of possession itself.

Her walls—hot, wet, impossibly tight—clenched around me, igniting sensations that burned and soared simultaneously. Her moans—deep, guttural—matched her fiery movements, her lust turning into a poetry of primal demand, as she whispered, “You feel better than my toys,” her eyes blown wide, pupils dark as night. Her claws—long, sharp, and deadly—trailed along my chest, leaving trails of anticipation and promise before she leaned down, her lips pressing hard against my shoulder, then sinking into it with teeth bared in a feral grip.

“Whoa, Chae,” I whisper-shouted, my voice trembling as her claws raked over my skin, intimidating and electrifying in equal measure. Her gaze, all pupils and wild intent, told me that rationality had long since left the building—she was entirely consumed by the storm inside her, a tempest unleashed.

She roared softly, a growl of triumph or hunger or a mixture of both, as she ground herself fiercely against me, the slick heat of her desire coating us both in a shivering, sizzling dance. “Mine,” she growled through clenched teeth, repeating it like a mantra, bouncing rhythmically atop me—moving with fierce intensity that warned of an inevitable collision with ecstasy.

The second she hit her peak, her claws—extended in clear warning—dug into my flesh, marking me with her raw strength. Her groan was guttural—satisfied, victorious—and her body clenched around me so powerfully I thought I might be ripped apart. A gush, hot and sticky, spilled over us both, sealing her unfinished claim with another wild, blissful shudder. Her eyes remained blown out, pupils dilated to infinity, as she looked down at me with unfiltered possession, her glow wild and unrepentant.

“Mark me,” she commanded in a whisper thick with multiple meanings—her voice sultry, raw, and unyielding. I followed her command without question, pressing deeper and deeper into her, feeling the incredible heat, the unearthly wetness that seemed to consume everything. Her walls tightened again and again, the crescendo building like a violent storm reaching its zenith. She begged me—silent and ferocious—urging for release, for my own surrender.

And then we plunged together, her eyes meeting mine as her body betrayed her in an explosion of passion—flying over the edge, shuddering fiercely, her claws sinking into my chest in a stake of carnality and conquest. Her scream of release echoed through the room, primal and raw, as she spilled herself onto me, riding the waves of her ecstasy with abandon.

Her victory—her declaration—was etched into her trembling form, her drenched, glowing eyes still wide with wild triumph. She looked down at me, a perfect chaos of lust and pride, and whispered fiercely, “Mine.” Not a question. Not a plea. An unshakable vow—divine in its raw, animal truth.

In that moment, I felt the full weight of her claim, her unrelenting need to possess what she desired—and her need to be possessed in return. This was not merely hunger; it was a fierce, unmitigated declaration of belonging, a bond forged in blood and sweat and forbidden fire. Neither of us could deny it now—once she towered over me, claiming her prize with claws and teeth, surrendering to the darkness within her that craved not just passion but possession.

Morning sunlight bled through the gauzy curtains, painting golden stripes across the tangled blankets. My eyes blinked open slowly, the haze of sleep giving way to a mix of soreness, warmth, and something...sticky? I looked down.

Lipstick kisses, pink and red and occasionally smudged with a fang mark, dotted my chest. Faint claw lines raked over my sides and shoulders—not deep, but deliberate. Possessive. My thighs were covered in fading bite marks, and my collarbone bore the unmistakable imprint of her mouth.

Gods above, I thought, running a hand through my hair. She was thorough.

Carefully, I started to sit up, wincing slightly as muscles I didn’t even know could ache did just that. I had barely lifted myself off the mattress when a hand darted out—nails grazing my lower back, just enough pressure to warn, not wound.

"Where do you think you’re going?" Chaewon's voice was husky, sleep-thick, but still laced with that purring dominance from the night before.

I tilted my head and gave her a tired grin. “Getting water.”

She let out a soft whine, more feline than human, and buried her face into my back, her arms snaking around my waist as she pressed herself flush against me. “Too far,” she mumbled. “Mate doesn’t leave bed without kisses.”

“Well,” I said, trying not to laugh, “I think you covered your quota already. I’m wearing half of them.”

She growled—playfully, but with a hint of real need—and nipped my shoulder before trailing her nose along my spine. “Doesn’t count if you’re not awake for them,” she said, clearly not letting go.

I shuffled forward with her still clinging to me like a sleepy, overly affectionate backpack. The cool wood floor met my feet as I stumbled toward her tiny kitchen nook, dragging her along inch by inch. She didn’t protest, just sighed and nuzzled into the crook of my neck, her tail flicking lazily behind her.

“You’re seriously going to cling to me all the way to the sink?” I asked, reaching out for a glass with one hand while balancing her weight with the other.

“I’m in recovery,” she said, voice muffled against my skin. “Bonding is exhausting.”

I turned my head slightly to kiss her temple. “Yeah? Then maybe you shouldn’t have tried to kill me with affection.”

She hummed, finally loosening her hold just enough for me to fill the glass. But even then, she didn’t stray far—her cheek resting against my shoulder, eyes half-lidded as if daring the universe to pull me away from her again.

“I’m yours,” I said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chaewon didn’t reply right away—just curled her arms tighter around me, her tail wrapping lazily around my thigh.

“…Good,” she finally whispered. “I’d hate to have to claw you again.”

i chuckled as I finally grabbed my water and smiled, "Okay"

The water was cold and crisp, almost too clean, too still compared to the whirlwind of last night. I leaned against the kitchen counter, letting the glass rest against my bottom lip, the coolness grounding me in the present after everything Chaewon and I had... become. My body ached in places I didn’t know could ache, pleasantly sore and marked in ways that felt more like ceremony than chaos. She made me hers.

I glanced over my shoulder.

Chaewon sat on the edge of the couch, one of her legs curled under her, wearing nothing but an oversized tee—my tee, actually—that clung to her curves in places it had no business doing. Her amber eyes were locked on me, head tilted like a content predator watching her prize stretch its limbs. I saw the possessiveness there, the lazy hunger even now, but it was gentler than before. Still intense. Still undeniably hers.

My phone buzzed on the counter.

Eunbi.

I sighed, smiled, and answered with a tired, amused: “You really couldn’t wait till morning?”

“It is morning, dummy,” Eunbi’s voice rang out, chipper and smug. “How’s your first day with your new wife?”

I laughed, setting the phone on speaker as I leaned back against the counter. “Well... the parts I can remember were pretty great.”

Chaewon chuckled softly behind me, her smirk unmistakable even without looking. She padded barefoot across the room and wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, her cheek pressing into my bare back.

“Ohhh,” Eunbi cooed, clearly catching on to the movement. “Is that her I hear breathing down your neck? You sound marked up, Torhu.”

“I am,” I admitted, running my free hand over the side of my neck where I could still feel the faint ridges of her teeth. “Thoroughly.”

Chaewon kissed the middle of my back in response, possessive and unhurried. Her tail flicked playfully against my leg as she nestled closer, arms tightening just slightly.

“You sound happy,” Eunbi said, her tone softening.

I looked down at the girl clinging to me, her claws gently resting against my hip like she was afraid I might drift too far. I smiled.

“I think I am.”

It’s been three days since I… moved in. Or maybe “got claimed” is more accurate.

I’m sitting at Chaewon’s tiny kitchen table — if you can call this sleek little thing a table — sipping coffee while she paces like a caged cat. Her tail is twitching at the tip, shirt half-buttoned, eyes locked on me like I might disappear again. I won’t, but it doesn’t stop her from watching.

“We need a plan,” she announces for the third time. “A real one. Not this loose maybe-you’ll-come-home-after-work bullshit.”

I raise an eyebrow, resting my cheek on one hand. “You do know we’ve spent every night together since, right?”

“That’s not the point,” she mutters, a little too quickly. “You’re mine now, Torhu. I need to know when you’re coming, when you’re leaving, how long you’ll be gone, and what part of me you’ll be sleeping on at night.” Her cheeks flush as soon as she says it, but the possessive glint in her eye doesn’t fade.

“…Sleeping on?” I can’t help but grin.

“You like my thighs, don’t act brand new.”

I nearly choke on the coffee. “I’m not disagreeing.”

She crosses the space between us and drapes herself across my lap with dramatic flair. Her scent hits me like a familiar drug—lavender, heat, and something uniquely her. She nuzzles against my neck, her claws gently grazing under my shirt like she's reassuring herself I’m still real.

“I don’t want to be apart. Not even for a night. Not after… that.”

I know what she means. The bond. The haze. The primal blur of sweat and sound and wild devotion.

She clings tighter. “I feel weird when you’re not touching me.”

“I know. You pounced on me in the shower because I closed the bathroom door.”

“You didn’t have to close it.”

I chuckle, brushing a hand through her hair. “Chaewon, you’re adorable. A little intense, but adorable.”

She lifts her head to glare half-heartedly. “Intense?”

I cup her cheek, running my thumb along the corner of her mouth. “I’m not complaining. I like you like this.”

She blinks. “Really?”

“Really. I’m just trying to help you breathe through the bonding part so you don’t spiral into kidnapping territory.”

She hums like she’s actually considering it. “Would you even mind?”

“Honestly? Depends on the quality of the rope.”

She smirks, purring as she curls deeper into me. “You shouldn’t say things like that, husband.”

“Technically, we’re not married.”

“Technically, your neck has my teeth marks.”

I laugh out loud at that. “Fair.”

“That’s kinda hot.”

She let out a breathy laugh, and I could feel her whole body soften against mine. “I’m serious,” she said, voice low. “I don’t think I can sleep without you anymore. My body won’t calm down unless you’re close. I woke up last night and you weren’t touching me and I almost cried.”

“Guess I’m not going back to my place anytime soon, huh?”

“Nope,” she said with smug satisfaction, popping the ‘p’. “You’re mine now. I’m not letting go.”

I turned slightly so I could catch her eyes. They were half-lidded, a little wild. Still riding that post-bonding high. Still drunk on instinct. And I couldn’t lie—I liked how possessive she was. I liked that it was me who pulled this side of her out.

“You’ll let go when you’re ready,” I said gently, brushing her hair back behind her ear. “But until then…”

I leaned in, pressing a kiss just beneath her eye, then down to her jaw.

“I’m right here. Yours.”

She exhaled shakily, clinging tighter again. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours.”

She made a small noise in her throat—part growl, part purr—and I swear I felt her vibrating.

I guess we weren’t building a relationship so much as hurling ourselves into one. But honestly? It felt good. Dangerous, intense, a little messy—but good. And if this was what being loved by a leopard hybrid felt like?

I wasn’t going anywhere.

200 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 11 days ago

Text

Office Desire (Eunbi)

Lee Saerom / Kwon Eunbi / Yoon Seoyeon

Warning: Mommy kink's involved through the story 9.5k+

It's Friday evening, and the office is finally quiet as the workday wraps up. You're exhausted, ready to crash for the weekend to recharge for another grueling week has become your unchanging routine since starting this job.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, head to the parking lot, and breathe in the cool evening air, already mentally checking out.

As you walk to your car, you spot Eunbi near a sleek SUV, her usual confident stride softened as she kneels beside a small girl, her daughter, no older than four, with pigtails and a bright pink backpack.

Eunbi's in a fitted blouse and skirt, still radiating that youthful, vibrant energy that makes her seem younger than her age, the kind of "hot young mom" vibe that's secretly been a naughty fantasy of yours. Her playful flirting in the office always stirred something in you, but seeing her now, in mom mode, adds a new image, warm, human, and oddly more alluring.

You hesitate but decide to say hi, not wanting to seem rude. As you approach, Eunbi looks up, her face lighting up with that familiar teasing smile.

"Hey, darling," she says, standing and brushing her hair back, "Heading off to enjoy your weekend?"

"Yes... just ready to rest, Ms. Eunbi" you reply, offering a small smile, your eyes flickering to the little girl clinging to her leg.

Eunbi notices and grins, bending down to scoop the girl up into her arms.

"This is Nabi," she says, bouncing her daughter gently.

"Nabi, say hi to mom's friend from work," the girl peeks at you shyly, her big eyes curious but cautious, and mumbles a soft, "Hi."

You give her a small wave, feeling a bit awkward, "Nice to meet you, Nabi," you say, keeping your tone light.

"She's cute," you add, glancing at Eunbi, who beams proudly.

"Thanks," Eunbi says, setting Nabi down and holding her hand.

"She's my little troublemaker, but I love her so much," her voice is warm, and for a moment, the flirty office Eunbi takes a backseat to this softer, maternal side.

Her eyes flick to you, "You're good with kids. Bet you'd make a great dad someday," she teases, her tone just suggestive enough to make your face heat up.

You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck, "Uh, maybe one day," you mumble, not sure how to respond.

Eunbi's grin widens, like she's enjoying your discomfort, but she doesn't push further.

"Well, get some rest, darling," she says, opening her car door to help Nabi into her booster seat, "You'll need it to keep up for brace the next week." She adds.

"Yeah, might need it, get home safe, Ms. Eunbi," you wave goodbye, your mind spinning as you walk away.

"See you on Monday, darling," she closes the door, start the engine and you can hear the car starting move.

That night, Eunbi is at home, the house quiet except for the soft hum of the baby monitor on the nightstand.

Nabi is fast asleep in her room, tucked in with her favorite stuffed bunny.

Eunbi slips into bed beside her husband, who's already under the covers, scrolling on his phone. He's a kind man, steady, a good father, but the spark in their marriage has dulled over the years, worn down by routines and responsibilities. Eunbi, still glowing with her youthful energy, feels a restless ache she tries to ignore.

Minho sets his phone down, turning to her with a gentle smile, "Long day?" he asks, his hand finding hers under the sheets. She nods, leaning in to kiss him, hoping to feel something more tonight.

They start slow, his lips soft but familiar, his hands roaming her body as she straddles him.

Eunbi's in a silky nightgown, her curves barely contained, and her husband's groans softly, clearly turned on by her.

But as they move together, clothes shed, she feels the familiar disappointment settling in.

His cock is small, barely stretching her, and though he tries, thrusting eagerly, his hands gripping her hips, it's not enough.

Eunbi moves with him, rocking her hips, trying to chase any spark of pleasure, but it's fleeting. Her body craves more, something deeper, harder. She closes her eyes, letting her mind wander to keep herself in the moment, but it's no use.

Her husband finishes quickly, a soft grunt escaping him as he comes, leaving her unsatisfied, her pussy barely tingling.

She rolls off, lying beside him, staring at the ceiling as he catches his breath, "Love you," he murmurs, kissing her forehead before turning over, already half asleep.

"Love you too," she replies, her voice automatic, but her body is restless. She sighs, pulling the covers up, knowing her husband tries his best but can't fill the void she feels.

The next morning, Saturday, Eunbi wakes up. She's still thinking about last night, her husband's effort, his small cock leaving her unsatisfied.

Over breakfast, she suggests a weekend getaway to her husband, something light, a trip to a nearby park or beach where Nabi can play.

"It'd be fun," she says, smiling at him and Nabi, who's munching on cereal, "We could all use a break," she adds

Her husband sighs, rubbing his eyes. "I'm beat, Eunbi. This week's been brutal at work. I just need to crash this weekend." He gives her an apologetic look, and though she nods, understanding, a pang of disappointment hits her.

She loves him, but his constant exhaustion leaves her carrying the weight of their family's spark alone.

As her husband heads to the couch with his coffee, Eunbi's mind wanders to you. She pictures your shy smile, the way you blushed when she teased you, and an idea forms.

Maybe you'd be up for joining her and Nabi for a day out. It'd be innocent, just a fun trip to keep Nabi entertained, but the thought of spending time with you, outside the office, sends a thrill through her.

She grabs her phone, hesitating only a moment before dialing your number.

You're awake by your phone buzzing on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with Eunbi's name.

It's barely 9 AM, still need recovering from the workweek. You answer, voice rough, "Hello?"

"Hey, darling," Eunbi's voice is bright.

"Did I wake you up? Sorry, but I've got a plan. Nabi and I are going to the park today, maybe hit the beach after. Wanna come with us? It'll be fun, and Nabi likes you." Her tone is warm, persuasive, but there’s that familiar flirty edge that makes your heart skip.

You hesitate, rubbing sleep from your eyes. A day out with Eunbi and her daughter sounds nice, but the idea of being around her, knowing your own confused feelings, makes you wary, not sure if you should be diving deeper into Eunbi's orbit.

But she sounds so genuine, and you don't want to seem rude. "Uh... I don't know, Ms. Eunbi. I was gonna rest for today," you say.

"Come on," she please, her voice softening.

"It's just a fun day, taking Nabi play with. You'll be doing me a huge favor. My husband too tired, and I could use the company."

There's a hint of something more in her tone, not quite pleading, but enough to make you feel bad saying no.

You sigh, already knowing you're caving. "Okay, fine. I'll come," you say, sitting up in bed, "What time?"

"Sweet!" Eunbi’s excitement is clear, and you can almost see her smile through the phone.

"I'll pick you up in an hour. Dress comfy, it's gonna be a warm day. See you soon, darling," she hangs up before you can second-guess yourself.

You drag yourself out of bed, a mix of nerves and curiosity bubbling in your chest. You shower quickly, throw on a t-shirt and shorts, and pack a small bag with a water bottle and powerbank, trying to keep it casual.

A sleek black SUV pulls up in front of your place, and you spot Eunbi in the driver's seat, her sunglasses perched on her nose, her bob hair framing her perfectly.

She looks effortlessly stunning, her fitted tank top and shorts showing off her youthful figure, the kind of 'hot young mom' vibe that's been your fantasy for longer than you'd admit.

The reality hits, though, she's married, with a kid, and this isn't some sugar mommy scenario, even if your mind thinking the thought. You shake it off, grab your bag, and head to the car.

Eunbi rolls down the window, flashing that playful smile, "Hop in, darling," she says, her voice warm. You nod and slide into the passenger seat. The car smells like her perfume, light and floral, and you try to act natural.

In the back, Nabi's strapped into her booster seat, clutching a stuffed bunny, her eyes bright, "Hi, Uncle!" she chirps, her small voice full of excitement. The nickname catches you off guard, and you glance at Eunbi, who laughs softly.

"She started calling you that after yesterday," Eunbi explains, glancing at you with a grin. "Guess you made an impression." You smile awkwardly, turning to Nabi.

"Hey, Nabi," you say, keeping your tone light. "What's your bunny's name?"

"Bouncy!" she shouts proudly, holding up her doll.

She launches into a chatter about Bouncy's adventures, her words tumbling out in that endless, joyful way kids talk.

You nod along, asking little questions, and she giggles, clearly loving the attention. You're surprised how easy it feels, chatting with her, and it distracts you from the nervous energy of being so close to Eunbi.

Eunbi drives, her focus on the road, but she chimes in occasionally, teasing you, "You're good with kids, darling. You gonna steal Nabi from me," she says, her tone playful but enough to make your cheeks warm.

As you head toward the park, Nabi keeps talking, asking you everything from your favorite color to whether you like ice cream.

Eunbi steals glances at you, her smile soft but with that familiar spark, like she's enjoying watching you bond with her daughter.

Arrived at the park, a sprawling green space with a playground buzzing with kids and picnic tables scattered under shady trees.

Eunbi parks the SUV, and you hop out, helping Nabi unbuckle from her booster seat.

She grabs your hand, her tiny fingers wrapping around yours, and starts tugging you toward the swings.

"Uncle, come push me!" she shouts, her excitement shared. You laugh, letting her lead the way, her stuffed bunny Bouncy tucked under her arm.

Eunbi follows behind, carrying a tote bag with snacks and a blanket, her sunglasses perched on her head. You glance back, catching her smile, warm, almost tender, as she watches you and Nabi chatter away.

"You two are cute," she calls out, her voice light but with that teasing edge that makes your cheeks blush.

You focus on Nabi, pushing her gently on the swing as she giggles, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest from Eunbi's attention.

After an hour of running around, Nabi dragging you from the swings to the slide, then to a game of tag, you're all ready for the next stop, the beach.

Eunbi drives a short distance to a nearby shore, the salty air hitting you as you step out.

You head to a changing area, swapping your t-shirt and shorts for a white tank top and loose swim boxers.

When you walk back, you freeze. Eunbi's changed into a bikini, bright blue, clinging to her curves, her big breasts barely contained, her hips and toned stomach on full display. She looks like she stepped out of a fantasy, her youthful glow making your cock twitch instantly in your boxers. You force your eyes away, heart pounding, trying not to stare.

Nabi, in a cute blue swimsuit with little fish patterns, runs up to you, "Uncle, let's build a sandcastle!" she says, grabbing a bucket from Eunbi's bag.

Eunbi adjusts her bikini top, catching your glance, and smirks, clearly aware of the effect she's having, "Darling, keep an eye on Nabi, will you?" she says, her voice smooth, that familiar playful tone making your face heat up.

She stretches out on a towel, sunglasses back on, looking like she’s ready to soak up the sun. "I'll be right here if you need me," she adds, before lying back.

You nod, swallowing hard, and focus on Nabi, who's already digging in the sand.

You kneel beside her, helping her scoop sand into the bucket, but your eyes keep drifting to Eunbi, her curves, the way her bikini rides up slightly as she shifts, her skin glistening under the sun. Your cock stirs again, and you adjust your boxers, praying it's not obvious.

Nabi babbles happily about her castle, and you smile, trying to stay present, but Eunbi's presence is like a magnet, pulling at your thoughts.

You play with Nabi, building towers and digging sand, but every so often, Eunbi calls out, "You're doing great, darling!" or "Nabi, show Uncle your best castle!"

The day at the beach unfolds smoothly, with no awkward moments to throw you off balance. It’s just a normal, sunny day, filled with Nabi's giggles and Eunbi's warm presence.

You manage to keep your focus on Nabi, pushing aside the sight of Eunbi's bikini-clad curves, your earlier fantasies fading into the background as the day stays wholesome.

Nabi runs to the water's edge, splashing in the shallow waves, and you follow, keeping an eye on her as she squeals with delight.

"Uncle, look! Fishies!" she shouts, pointing at nothing in particular. You laugh, splashing a little water back.

Eunbi joins you for a bit, holding Nabi's hand as they dip their toes in the waves, and you catch her smiling at you, not the flirty smirk from the office, but something softer, like she's genuinely happy you're here.

As the sun starts to dip, you all pack up, sandy and tired.

"Let's grab some food," Eunbi suggests, brushing sand off her legs, "I know a good spot nearby."

You pile into her SUV, Nabi chattering in the back about her sandcastle, still clutching Bouncy. You're more relaxed now, the day feeling like a break from the week chaos.

You end up at a cozy beachside diner, the kind with checkered tablecloths and a kid's menu with crayons.

Nabi's thrilled, coloring a picture of a crab while you and Eunbi order burgers and milkshakes.

Eunbi sits across from you, her sunglasses pushed up, her face glowing from the sun.

She chats easily, about Nabis preschool, her love for spicy fries, random office gossip, but there's no heavy flirting, no suggestive winks. It's just... nice.

You realize, as you watch her cut Nabi's burger into smaller pieces, that Eunbi feels more like an older sister today, someone warm and familiar, not the bold, seductive woman from work. It's a stark contrast to Saerom, whose intensity always left you on edge. Eunbi is lighter, more grounded, even with her playful side.

"Thanks for coming today," she says, catching your eye as Nabi scribbles happily.

"It means a lot to Nabi... and to me," her smile is genuine, no hidden agenda, and you feel a warmth relief.

"No problem," you say, smiling back.

"It was fun," simple, easy, a day that feels like a reset. You're not sure where this connection with her is going, but for now, it feels good, like a bond that's growing in its own quiet way.

Eunbi pulls up in front of your apartment building, the streetlights casting a soft glow inside the car.

You carefully try to shift Nabi off you, but she whines in her sleep, her little arms clinging to your sleeve, refusing to let go.

You freeze, not wanting to wake her, and look at Eunbi, unsure what to do. Eunbi chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"She's had a big day, huh," she leans back, thinking for a moment, then says, "I don't want to wake her either. Mind if we come up for a bit? Just to let her rest a little before I drive home?"

You hesitate, your heart picking up speed. Having Eunbi in your apartment feels like a step into new territory, even if it's just for Nabi.

But you can't say no, not with Nabi sleeping so peacefully, and Eunbi's request so practical. "Uh, sure, yeah," you say, keeping your voice low, "Come on up."

Carefully, you unbuckle your seatbelt and ease out of the car, cradling Nabi in your arms. She stirs slightly but stays asleep, her head nestled against your shoulder.

Eunbi grabs her tote bag and Nabi's backpack, locking the car before following you into the building.

The elevator ride is quiet, the hum of it almost loud in the silence, and you're hyper-aware of Eunbi standing close, her perfume faint but familiar.

You unlock your apartment door, stepping into the small, tidy space, nothing fancy, just a couch, a TV, and a few bookshelves with your work stuff.

You gesture to the couch, "I will lay her here," you whisper, and Eunbi nods, grabbing a throw blanket from her bag to drape over Nabi as you gently set her down. Nabi curls up, still clutching Bouncy, and stays asleep.

Eunbi straightens up, looking around your place with a small smile. "Nice spot, darling," she says, her voice soft to avoid waking Nabi.

"Very... you," her tone is playful but not as flirty as usual, more like she's genuinely curious about your space.

"Want some water or something?" you offer, heading to the kitchen to keep your hands busy.

"Water's enough, darling," she says, following you to the small kitchen counter, leaning against it as you fill two glasses.

You hand her one glass, and she sips, her eyes meeting yours over the rim, "Thanks for today," she says quietly, "Nabi had a blast. I haven't seen her this happy in a while."

"No worries," you reply, sipping your water, feeling that warmth from her words, "She's sweet."

Eunbi nods, setting her glass down, her gaze softening, "She is good with you. It's... nice to see," she pauses, like she wants to say more, but glances at Nabi, still sleeping soundly.

You're both tired from the long day, and as the conversation slows, you sit on the edge of the couch near Nabi, your body sinking into the cushions.

Eunbi settles into an armchair across from you, sipping her water, her bare legs crossed, still in those shorts that show off her curves.

You try not to stare, you push the thought away, focusing on Nabi’s peaceful face, but your eyelids grow heavy.

Without realizing it, you passed out, your head resting against the back of the couch, the day's exhaustion finally winning, you're out cold, unaware of time passing,

Faint sensation pulls you from sleep. It's subtle at first, a warmth, a gentle pressure down there. Your eyes flutter open, and you glance down.

Eunbi, she's kneeling in front of you, her hands on your thighs, your shorts tugged down just enough to free your cock, which is already half-hard.

"Ms. E-Eunbi..." your voice shaky, "what are you-?" your heart races, surprised by her sudden action, her fingers working you, spreading the pre-cum already leaking from your tip.

"Shhh... you gonna wake her up, darling" she whispers, her voice barely audible.

You glance at Nabi, still sleeping soundly a few feet away, and panic mixes with arousal.

Eunbi smirks, "I've been thinking about this all day."

Before you can protest, her lips part, and she takes you into her mouth, her tongue swirling over the head, slow and teasing. Her lips slide slowly down your cock, her warm, wet mouth taking you deeper as her tongue swirls against the sensitive underside.

You're gripping the couch, trying to stay silent as Nabi sleeps just a few feet away.

Her mouth sucks with quiet, her eyes flick up to meet yours, sparkling with something hungrier, like she's wanting this long ago.

You stifle a groan, gripping the couch, your body tensing as she sucks gently, her hand stroking what her mouth doesn't cover.

She pulls off with a soft, wet pop, her hand still stroking your slick length, keeping you hard. Her voice is barely a whisper, low and sultry.

She leans closer, "God, darling, your cock is so big," she murmurs, her lips brushing the tip as she speaks, sending a shiver through you.

"So thick... feels so good in my mouth," her words are blunt, dripping with lust, and your face burns, your cock twitching in her grip.

She glances at Nabi, ensuring she's still asleep, then looks back at you, "You know," she whispers, her hand slowing but never stopping, "My husband tries, he really does. But his cock..." She pauses, a faint smirk but disappointed on her lips.

"It's tiny. So small, barely anything. I hardly feel it when we were making love," her voice carries a frustration like a secret she's held too long. "It's nothing like this," she adds, giving your cock a gentle squeeze.

Your breath catches, image of Eunbi with her husband, unsatisfied, her body craving more, makes your cock ache even harder, "Ms. Eunbi..." you whisper, your voice shaky, unsure if you're protesting or urging her on.

She just smiles, wicked and confident, and leans back down, her tongue flicking over the head of your cock, lapping up the pre-cum leaking steadily now, "Shh, let me enjoy this," her lips wrapping around you again, sucking harder this time.

Her hand pumps the base, her mouth working the rest, and the wet, sloppy sounds are loud in your quiet apartment.

You bite your lip, stifling a groan, your hips twitching up instinctively as she takes you deeper, her throat tightening around you. She's relentless, clearly turn on by your cock's size, her moans vibrating against your it like she's getting off on it as much as you are.

Your body tenses, pleasure building fast, and you whisper, "Ms. Eunbi... I'm gonna..."

She pulls off, a string of spit trailing from her mouth to your tip.

"Not yet, not here," she whispers, she glances at Nabi, still sleeping soundly, then back at you, her hand still gently stroking your slick, throbbing cock to keep you hard.

"Got a nice bed for us?" she ask, tracing your cock already wet mix of her saliva and your pre-cum.

"Uhh... my room, maybe...?" you nod at your room, where's your bed at.

She's standing, tugging you up by your wrist. She leads you quickly, guiding you to your bedroom.

Once inside, she shuts the door carefully, locking it with a soft click. She turns to face you, her tank top clinging to her body, her eyes burning with intent.

"Let's continue, darling," she says, her voice hushed but raw, stepping closer. "I need you inside me. Your big cock, I want to feel it," her words are blunt, desperate, and they hit you like a spark, your cock twitching hard at the thought.

She pulls off her tank top in one smooth motion, revealing her full breasts, her nipples already hard.

Her shorts follow, leaving her naked, every curve begging to be touched. She steps up to you, her hands tugging at your shirt, pulling it off, then yanking your shorts down completely.

Your cock stands fully erect, slick from her mouth, and she bites her lip, staring at it like it's everything she's been wanting.

She climbs onto your bed and lying back, spreading her legs wide. "Put in me, darling," she whispers, her pussy is glistening, wet with need, and she reaches down, parting her folds with her fingers, inviting you in. "Give me what I need."

You're frozen for a second, your mind racing with the reality, she's married, Nabi's in the other room, this is insane, but your body's already moving.

You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself between her thighs, your cock brushing against her wet entrance.

She moans softly, her hands grabbing your shoulders, pulling you closer, "Don't make me wait," she breathes, her voice trembling with want.

You push in slowly, feeling her tight, warm pussy stretch around your cock, gripping you like nothing you've felt before.

She gasps, her head tilting back, her nails digging into your skin, "Oh fuck.... so big," her voice shaky with pleasure.

You start thrusting, slow at first, then harder as she urges you on, her hips rocking up to meet you. The bed creaks softly, but you're too lost in her, the way her pussy clenches around you, the way her moans stay hushed but desperate, her breasts bouncing with each thrust.

"Harder," she pants, her hands sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you deeper.

"More harder," you obey, slamming into her, your cock filling her completely, the wet slap of your bodies echoing.

She's loud now, her moans barely contained, and you pray Nabi doesn't wake up. Eunbi's pussy is so tight, so perfect, drives you harder, your cock throbbing as you push her closer to the edge.

You can feel her pussy clenching harder around your cock, signaling she's close, "Darling... fuck, I'm gonna..." she gasps, her voice breaking, her hips bucking up to meet your thrusts.

You keep going, slamming into her, your cock hitting deep, pushing her over the edge.

Suddenly, "Fuck~!" she cries out, a loud, "Ahhh~!" and her body convulses, her pussy squeezing your cock so tight it’s almost too much.

She comes hard, her juices gushing out, squirting in hot, messy streams that soak your cock and the sheets beneath her. Her eyes roll back, her mouth open in a silent scream, her face twisted, she's losing herself completely.

You pull out, giving her a moment to ride the high. Her juices keep flowing, dripping down her thighs, and she moans louder, her voice raw and unrestrained, her body shaking uncontrollably.

“Oh, god... oh, fuck...” she whimpers, her hands clutching the sheets, her eyes fluttering as if she's in heaven. Her chest heaves, her breasts rising and falling as she gasps for air, still trembling from the release.

She is calming now, means ready again. You line up your cock, sliding it along her folds before pushing in deep.

She gasps, her head tilting back, her tongue still out, "Fuck, yes..." she moans, her voice louder now, less controlled, her hands grabbing your shoulders, nails digging in.

You start thrusting, slamming into her with more force, your cock plunging deep, the wet slap of your bodies echoing in the small bedroom.

Her pussy clenches around you, hot and slick from her first orgasm, making every thrust feel electric. Her moans turn into cries, her tongue still out, her face twisted in pleasure, completely undone. "Oh god, darling... so big... fuck me!" she gasps, her legs wrapping tighter around you, pulling you deeper.

Your hands grip her hips, then slide up to her breasts, squeezing them as you pound into her, your cock hitting her deepest spots. She's loud now, too lost to care about Nabi in the other room, "Please... don't stop..." she whimpers, her hands clutching your back, her body arching into you.

You keep going, fucking her harder, her pussy tightens again, her second orgasm closing in fast. "I'm... I'm gonna..." she gasps, her voice breaking, her eyes rolling back.

You feel her body tense, her pussy clamping down hard on your cock as she comes, another gush of juices soaking you, her body shaking violently.

"Ahhh~! Fuck~!" she cries out, her tongue out, her hands clawing at you as she rides the wave. You slow down, letting her catch her breath.

"Turn over," you say, your voice low and commanding, surprising even yourself.

Her eyes widen slightly, despite her exhaustion. She obeys, rolling onto her stomach, then pushing herself up onto her hands and knees, her ass raised invitingly. Her back arches, her pussy glistening, still dripping, and you can't resist the urge to take her again.

You position yourself behind her, grabbing her hips as you line up your cock with her slick entrance. You slide in easily, her pussy so wet it takes you in without resistance, gripping you tightly as you fill her.

She moans, her head dropping forward, her hair falling over her face, "Fuck, darling... yes," she gasps, pushing back against you, already eager for more.

You start thrusting, your hips slamming against her ass. She feels incredible, her pussy clenching around your cock with every deep thrust, and you pick up the pace.

You reach forward, grabbing a handful of her hair, yanking it gently but firmly, pulling her head back. She gasps, her moan louder, her body responding, "Harder..." she begs, "fuck me harder." You pound her hard, your cock hitting deep, making her ass jiggle with each thrust.

Your hand comes down on her ass with a sharp smack, the sound echoing as her skin reddens slightly. She cries out, her pussy tightening around you, clearly loving it, "Again," she moans, her tongue slipping out again, her eyes fluttering shut as she loses herself in the pleasure. You spank her again, harder this time, and she whimpers, her body shaking, her pussy so wet it’s dripping onto the sheets.

You keep going, yanking her hair to keep her arched, spanking her ass as you fuck her relentlessly. Her moans turn into cries, loud and unrestrained, her hands clutching the sheets as she pushes back against you, matching your rhythm. "Fuck... I'm gonna... again..." she gasps, her voice breaking, her body trembling violently.

You feel her pussy clamp down hard, her third orgasm hitting like a wave. She comes, loud moan, "Fuckkk~!" her juices gushing again, squirting onto your cock and the bed, her body convulsing as her eyes roll back, her tongue hanging out.

Her body shaking as she rides out the high, her ass red from your spanks, her hair messy from your grip. You slow down, letting her catch her breath, but you’re still hard inside her, your own release close but held back.

She shifts, she pushes you gently onto your back, "I want to ride this big cock..."

You lie back, your cock still rock-hard, slick with her wetness.

She climbs over you, straddling your hips, her big breasts hang heavy, her nipples hard, and she looks down at you, "My husband never filled me like you," she whispers, her voice raw, as she grips your cock, lining it up with her soaked pussy.

She sinks down slowly, moaning loudly as your cock stretches her, filling her completely. "Fuck... so big," she gasps, her head tilting back, her tongue slipping out again as she starts to move, her hips moving back and forth.

Her pussy grips you tightly, wet and hot, and the sight of her riding you, her breasts bouncing, her face twisted in pleasure, drives you wild. She grinds down hard, her hands on your chest for balance, her moans growing louder with every roll of her hips. "God, darling... you're so deep," she whimpers, chasing her next high.

You grip her hips, guiding her, thrusting up to meet her movements. She's relentless, riding you faster, her moans turning into desperate cries, her tongue still out, her eyes rolling back as she loses herself.

"Fuck… I'm gonna come again," she gasps, her body trembling, her pussy tightening even more.

You feel her hit her fourth orgasm, her body shaking violently, another gush of juices soaking your cock and thighs as she screams, "Ohhh~! Ahhh~!"

You can't hold on any longer. The pleasure's too intense, her tight, wet pussy and her wild moans pushing you to the edge, "Ms. Eunbi... I'm..." you groan, your cock throbbing.

In a sudden surge, you flip her over, pinning her back down. She gasps, her legs spreading wide, her pussy still dripping as you pound into her harder than before, your thrusts deep and desperate.

Her breasts bounce with each slam, "Yes... darling, pound me harder~" her moans loud, her hands clutching your shoulders as you fuck her.

The pressure snaps, and you pull out just in time, your cock pulsing as you come hard, "Fuck!" ropes of hot cum shooting across her face and big breasts.

Eunbi moans, her tongue darting out to catch some, her eyes half lidded, looking like she's in high as your cum paints her skin, "Yes... darling..." her voice weak, her chest heaving as she lies there, covered in cum, her pussy still twitching from her fourth orgasm.

You collapse beside her, both of you panting, your body spent and buzzing. The room is quiet now, just your heavy breaths and the faint creak of the bed.

She turns her head, her face flushed, cum still glistening on her lips and breasts, and gives you a tired, wicked smile, "That was... everything I need," she whispers, her voice hoarse.

You're too exhausted to reply, your mind reeling from the intensity, Nabi in the next room forgotten in the haze of pleasure.

She wipes a bit of your cum from her cheek with her finger, licking it casually, and chuckles softly, "God, darling, you're so good," she says, her tone teasing.

"Where'd you learn that?" she trails off, raising an eyebrow, genuinely curious, "Have you done this a lot? Had a girlfriend? Or... someone else?"

Your face heats up, embarrassment creeping in as you realize she's asking about your experience. The memory of Saerom, flashes in your mind, but you hesitate. You're not sure you want to spill that, not with Eunbi lying here, her eyes searching yours. It feels too complicated, too risky to admit you've been with another coworker, especially someone like Saerom.

So, you brace yourself, deciding to dodge the truth.

"I... uh..." you stammer, rubbing the back of your neck, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I haven't really... done this much. I mean, no girlfriend or anything," you pause, feeling your cheeks burn.

"I... watch a lot of porn." you blurt out.

Her eyes widen, and then she bursts into laughter, soft but genuine, covering her mouth to keep it quiet so Nabi doesn't wake, "Porn?" she repeats, her voice teasing, her smile widenin, "Oh, darling, that's adorable," she leans closer, her sticky breasts brushing your arm, clearly amused.

"So you're telling me all that, this..." she gestures waving to the soaked sheets and her cum streaked body "...came from watching videos? You're a fast learner, then."

You nod, relieved she's not pressing further, "Yeah, I guess..." you mumble, avoiding her gaze, your face still hot, "Just... figured it out."

She chuckles again, her hand resting on your chest, her touch light but warm. "Well, you're a natural, my husband could take notes."

She smirks, "You've got nothing to be embarrassed about, darling."

You clear your throat, your voice hesitant. "Ms. Eunbi... why me?" you ask, glancing at her, "I mean... today was great, and I've always thought you were... you know, amazing. But I'm starting to see you like... I don't know, an older sister. So why... this? Why me?"

Her hand pauses on your chest, and she shifts slightly, propping herself up to meet your gaze. Her eyes are serious now, no trace of her usual teasing smirk. She wipes a bit of cum from her cheek, thoughtful, then sighs, her voice soft but honest.

"It's complicated, darling," she says, her tone carrying a weight you haven't heard from her before. "I love my husband. I really do. We've been married eight years, and he's a good man, a great dad to Nabi. But..." she trails off, looking away for a moment, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She takes a deep breath and continues. "His... well, you heard me before. His pepe's small, and it's not just that. He barely lasts, and even when we try, it's like he's not... enough. I've only ever come with him a handful of times, and even then, it was nothing like this." she gestures vaguely to the soaked sheets, her body, you.

"And his sperm... it's weak. We tried for years to have kids. Nabi's our miracle, but most of his sperm doesn't even reach my eggs. Doctors confirmed it. We're lucky we got her."

Her voice softens, and she looks back at you, her eyes searching yours. "I've been faithful, mostly. But I'm human too, darling. I need pleasure too. I need to feel wanted, to feel my body come alive. My husband tries, but he can't give me that. But you…" she pauses, her hand sliding down to rest on your thigh, her touch gentle but electric.

"You're young, you're sweet, and... god, you're big. You make me feel things I've been missing for years."

You swallow hard, "So... you just need me for... this?" you ask, your voice quiet, unsure if you're hurt or just trying to understand.

She shakes her head quickly, her hand squeezing your thigh, "No, it's not just that. Today, seeing you with Nabi, how kind you were, how easy it felt... it wasn't just about sex. You're special to me, darling. I feel something with you, something I don't want to let go of," she leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I love my husband, but I need this too. And I want it with you."

Your heart races as you lie there, her words about her marriage and her need for pleasure. Her vulnerability, her warmth, and the way she's made you feel so wanted stir something deep inside you, a mix of desire and a strange, almost childish need for closeness.

You've always had this quiet kink, this fantasy of calling someone "mommy," someone nurturing yet commanding, and Eunbi, with her caring yet sensual energy, feels like she fits that role perfectly. But saying it out loud feels risky, embarrassing, and your face burns just thinking about it.

You swallow hard, your voice barely a whisper, unsure but unable to hold back, "Ms. Eunbi... can... can I call you mommy?" the words tumble out, and you brace yourself to embarrassed yourself again.

She pauses, her hand still resting on your thigh, and for a moment, you think you've gone too far. Then she chuckles, a soft, warm sound that eases your nerves. Her eyes showing something maybe an amusement.

"Mommy, huh?" she says, her voice teasing but not mocking, "Sure, darling... you can call me mommy."

She leans closer, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, "And what does mommy do?"

Before you can answer, she shifts, crawling over your body, her naked curves hovering above you, her cum-streaked breasts swaying slightly, "She makes her darling feel pleasured," she purrs, her hand sliding down to grip your cock.

Her fingers wrap around your cock , jerking you slowly, her touch firm but teasing, coaxing you back to hardness.

You gasp, your hips twitching up into her hand, the word "mommy" on the tip of your tongue feeling so right yet so forbidden.

"M-mommy..." you mumble, your voice shaky, your face burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal.

Her slow strokes make your cock throb, pre-cum already beading at the tip as she spreads it with her thumb, her grip slick and deliberate.

"That's right, darling," she whispers, her voice low and sultry, her lips grazing your neck.

"Mommy's gonna take care of you." She pumps you faster, her hand tight, her eyes locked on yours, watching every twitch of your face, every hitch in your breath.

"M-mommy..." you whisper, your voice trembling, "Can I... can I milk you?"

The words feel weird, almost too much, but the image of drinking from her, of her giving you that kind of intimacy, makes your cock throb harder in her grip.

Her eyes widen for a split second, then soften with a mix of surprise and delight. She chuckles, low and teasing, her hand never stopping its slow, slick strokes on your cock. "Oh, darling," she purrs.

She leaning closer, her lips brushing your cheek, "You want mommy's milk? Such a needy boy," her tone is both indulgent and playful, and she shifts, sitting up slightly to position herself better, her breasts hovering near your face.

She cups one of her breasts, "Go ahead, darling. Drink from mommy," guiding it toward your mouth, her nipple already hard and inviting.

You hesitate for a moment, heart pounding, but you latch onto her nipple, your lips closing around it, and suck gently at first, your tongue flicking over the sensitive bud.

A soft moan escapes her, her hand tightening on your cock, stroking faster as you start to suck harder.

Milk, there's a milk from her body, sweetness, it sends a surge of pleasure through you. You suck greedily, your hands reaching up to hold her breast, squeezing gently as you drink, lost in the fantasy.

Her moans grow louder, her hips shifting slightly as she watches you, clearly turned on by your neediness, "That's it, darling," she murmurs, her voice shaky, "Such a good boy for mommy... drinking so well."

Her hand works your cock faster, slick with pre cum, her fingers twisting slightly with each stroke, pushing you closer to the edge. The combination of her breast in your mouth, her nipple under your tongue, and her hand jerking you off is overwhelming.

You moan against her skin, the vibration making her gasp, her free hand tangling in your hair to hold you closer to her chest. "Keep going, sweetheart," she whispers, her voice thick with arousal. "Mommy loves this."

Your hips buck up into her hand, your cock throbbing, the pleasure building to a breaking point. You suck harder, your tongue swirling, your hands kneading her breast.

Her strokes damn good, her thumb brushing over your tip, sending jolts through you. "Come for mommy," she murmurs, her voice urgent, her own arousal clear in her tightening grip. "Be a good boy and come."

You can't hold back anymore. With a muffled moan against her breast, you come hard, your cock pulsing in her hand as ropes of cum shoot out, spilling over her fingers and onto your stomach.

She keeps jerking you, milking every drop, her moans soft and encouraging as you shudder through the orgasm, still latched onto her nipple, drinking greedily like it's all you need.

Finally, you pull back, gasping for air, your body spent and trembling. Her hand slows, her touch gentle now, and she leans down, kissing your forehead softly. "Such a good boy," she whispers, her voice warm, her cum-covered hand resting on your thigh.

She sits you up gently, her hands on your shoulders. Before you can breathe, she kisses you deeply, her lips pressing hard against yours.

Her tongue meets yours, and the kiss is wet and messy, making you feel excited again even though you're tired. She pulls you close, her arms around your neck, her soft, sticky breasts against your chest. The kiss is wild, full of moans, and you're lost in her.

She pulls back, breathing hard, her lips wet, her tongue slightly out. Her eyes are full of desire, and she's so beautiful, "Darling..." she says softly, her hands still holding you.

You push her back onto the bed. She gasps, her legs opening as she lies under you, her body still wet from before, shining in the light. "Fuck me again, darling," she says, her voice needy, reaching for you. "I need you."

Your cock already getting hard again, you slide between her thighs, your body brushing against her wetness, and push inside. She feels tight and warm, and she moans loudly, her head tilting back, her hands grabbing your arms as you move. "Yes... so big," she gasps, her body tightening around you with every thrust.

You move fast, your bodies slapping together, the sound filling the room. Her moans are loud and needy, her breasts bouncing, her eyes rolling back as she gives in to the pleasure. "Harder... please, darling," she begs, her face showing pure joy. You thrust harder, the bed shaking, forgetting about Nabi waking up as you chase the feeling.

Her body shakes, and you know she's close. "Come for me, mommy," you say, and it pushes her over the edge. She cries out, her pussy tightening hard, her climax rushing through her, her moans loud and shaky. But she grabs you, her voice desperate. "Inside... come inside me, darling," she says, her eyes locked on yours. "I want it... please."

Her words break you. You thrust deep one last time, your climax hitting hard. You groan, releasing inside her, filling her as she moans, her body taking everything. You keep moving until you're done, then collapse onto her, both of you breathing heavily, tangled together.

She shifts, her fingers tracing your back, and sighs. "I don't want this to end," she says quietly, almost hesitant. "But... I should go home. My husband probably wondering where I am, and Nabi needs her own bed." She looks at you, her eyes soft but a little sad, torn between staying and returning to her life.

You nod, understanding, but part of you doesn't want to let her go. There's something you've been wanting to try, something sparked by the closeness you've shared tonight.

You swallow, your face warm as you gather the courage to ask. "Mommy..." you say, the word still exciting to say, "before you go... can I... can I taste your pussy? I'm curious what you taste like."

Her eyes widen, then a slow, happy smile spreads across her face. "Oh, darling," she says, her voice full of warmth and teasing desire. "You want to taste mommy? That's sweet." She leans up, kissing you softly, her tongue brushing yours, letting you taste a hint of your cum from earlier. "Of course, baby. One last treat for my good boy."

She slides out from under you, lying back on the bed and spreading her legs wide, her pussy glistening, still wet with your cum and her juices.

The sight makes your cock twitch, even though you're too tired to get hard again. "Come here," she whispers, patting her thigh, her eyes locked on yours, inviting you closer.

You move between her legs, your heart racing, your mouth watering as you lower yourself. Her scent hits you first, musky, sweet, and strong. You pause for a moment, then lean in, your tongue flicking out to taste her.

The first lick is thrilling, her juices tangy and rich, mixed with a slight saltiness from your cum. Eunbi moans softly, her hand finding your hair, guiding you gently. "That's it, darling... lick mommy's pussy," she murmurs, her voice trembling with pleasure.

You dive in, your tongue exploring her folds, lapping up her wetness, enjoying every bit. She tastes amazing, and you lose yourself in it, sucking gently on her clit, swirling your tongue, eager to make her feel good.

Her moans get louder, her hips moving slightly, pressing herself against your mouth. "Fuck... so good, baby," she gasps, her fingers tightening in your hair. "Eat me... just like that."

You keep going, your tongue going deeper, tasting her fully, your lips closing around her clit as you suck harder. Her thighs shake, closing around your head, and you know she's close. "Darling... I'm gonna..." she moans, her voice breaking.

You don't stop, licking and sucking harder, wanting to give her one last climax. She comes with a sharp cry, her pussy pulsing against your tongue, a fresh wave of juices flooding your mouth as she shakes, her body arching off the bed.

You pull back, breathing hard, your lips and chin wet with her, your heart pounding from the thrill of making her come like that. Eunbi looks at you, her face red, her eyes glowing with happiness.

"God, darling... you're too perfect," she whispers, pulling you up to kiss you, tasting herself on your lips. "I'll miss this."

She sits up, slowly grabbing her clothes from the floor. You watch as she dresses, moving like she's trying to delay leaving. Once she's ready, she turns to you, her expression soft but serious. "This... us... it's not over, okay?" she says quietly. "But I need to figure things out. Just... don't forget about mommy."

You nod, your throat tight. "I won't," you say, meaning it. She kisses you one last time, soft and lingering.

She heads to the living room to gently wake Nabi. You follow, helping her gather Nabi's things, the little girl sleepy but happy in her mother's arms.

Eunbi gives you a final smile at the door, Nabi waving lazily, and then they're gone, leaving you alone in your quiet apartment.

It's Monday morning, and you're back at the office, the usual routine kicking in. The place is alive with chatter and the smell of coffee. Your weekend with Eunbi and Nabi, especially that intense, secret night with Eunbi, still plays in your mind.

You walk to your desk, half-expecting things to feel different after everything that happened.

As you pass the marketing area, you notice Saerom watching you. She's leaning on her desk, arms crossed, holding a file, with a small, knowing smirk. Your body reacts slightly, and you nod awkwardly, hurrying past to avoid her gaze, the memory of her lingering in your head.

Before you can sit down, Eunbi walks up, her heels clicking softly, holding a paper cup with a warm, playful smile. She's wearing a fitted blouse and pencil skirt, her figure clear but professional, her hair swept to one side.

"Morning, darling," she says smoothly, teasingly, handing you the coffee. "Did you rest enough yesterday?" Her eyes sparkle with mischief, and you know she's thinking of Saturday night, her calling you "darling," her body wet with you, her taste still fresh in your mind.

"M-morning, Ms. Eunbi," you mumble, taking the coffee, your face getting warm as you scratch your neck.

"Yeah... I, uh, got some rest." It sounds weak, but she just laughs softly, her hand brushing your arm for a moment, enough to make you feel a stir in your pants.

"Good," she says, leaning closer, her voice quiet just for you. "You'll need the energy for this week." She winks, then walks back to her desk, her hips swaying in a way you can't ignore.

You grip the coffee, trying to focus as you sit, your mind caught between Saerom's subtle look and Eunbi's bold flirting.

It's 11 AM. and the office is in busy, phones ringing, keyboards clicking, and faint meeting chatter drifting from a conference room.

You're sent to the photocopy room to copy some client files, a boring task that gives you a break from your computer.

Holding the papers, you open the door to the small room, the copier's hum filling the air.

But you stop dead when you see Eunbi there, standing by the machine with her own stack of documents. She's in her tight blouse and pencil skirt, her curves standing out, her hair loose around her face.

She looks up, her lips forming that playful smile. "Morning again, darling," she says, her voice low and teasing, you grip the files tighter, unsure whether to stay or leave knowing this is a bad idea, being alone with her now.

Before you can choose, Eunbi moves toward the door, her heels clicking, and locks it with a soft click. Your heart races, the sound loud in the small room.

"Ms. Eunbi… what-" you start, but she’s already close, her eyes sharp with desire, her smile turning naughty.

"Shhhh" she whispers, putting her files down and grabbing your wrist, pulling you to her, "We've got a few minutes, darling. Let's make it quick." Her voice is full of need.

Before you can argue, she lifts her skirt, showing her smooth thighs and black lace panties.

She pulls the panties aside, revealing her pussy, already wet and shiny. Your cock hardens fast, your breath catching.

"Eunbi… here? What if--" you mutter, glancing at the locked door, the office noise just outside. Getting caught would be disastrous, someone could knock or even have a key, but her hand's already undoing your belt, pulling it opens easily.

"No one's coming," she says softly, tugging your pants down just enough to free your hard cock. "I need you, darling. Fill me." She turns, leaning on the copier, her ass out, her pussy ready.

You're torn, fear of getting caught battling the intense desire running through you. But her scent, her wetness, and the way she looks back at you, tongue slightly out, begging without words, pushes you over.

You grab her hips, line up your cock, and push inside her in one smooth motion. She gasps, her pussy hot and tight, gripping you hard, and you both try to stay quiet.

You thrust fast and hard, the copier shaking a bit under her. Her juices make your cock slick, the wet sounds barely covered by the machine's hum.

"Fuck... so big," she whispers, her voice trembling, her head tilting back as she moves with you. You grab her hair lightly, pulling just enough to make her moan quietly, her pussy squeezing tighter.

It's quick and frantic, your cock pounding into her, her ass bouncing, her panties pushed aside, her skirt hiked up. You're both trying to be silent, but her soft moans and your heavy breathing fill the room.

"I need this," she whispers, her voice dirty, and your cock pulses, the forbidden thrill driving you closer to the edge.

You're almost there, and you feel her pussy tightening, her body shaking. "Ms. Eunbi... I'm gonna..." you whisper, but she shakes her head, pushing back harder.

"Inside, darling," she gasps. "Give mommy your cum." Her words break you, and with one last thrust, you come, your cock throbbing as you fill her, hot and thick.

She gasps, her pussy gripping you, coming too, her juices mixing with yours, dripping down her thighs as she trembles against the copier.

You pull out, breathing hard, your cock wet, her pussy leaking your cum as she fixes her panties and skirt, turning to you with a smug grin. "Good boy," she whispers, kissing you fast, her lips soft but eager.

She unlocks the door, grabs her files like nothing happened, and says, "See you later," with a wink, slipping out. You’re left stunned, heart pounding, the copier still humming as you try to wrap your head around the risky thrill of what just happened.

You're trying to pull yourself together, grabbing your files from the copier, when the door creaks open again. Your stomach drops as Seoyeon steps in, her tablet under one arm, a few papers in hand.

Seoyeon's presence is so different from Eunbi's bold vibe, quiet, shy, her long hair tucked behind her ear, her eyes meeting yours with a soft, hesitant smile that warms your chest.

"Oh, hi," she says gently, heading to the copier. "Just need a few copies for the pitch." She sets her things down, not noticing anything at first, but then her nose wrinkles, and she pauses, sniffing the air.

Your face heats up, panic hitting hard. The room smells of sex, Eunbi's juices, your cum, the raw heat of what just happened. You're sure Seoyeon can tell, and the idea of her realizing you just fucked Eunbi here makes you want to vanish.

"Uh, yeah, just… finishing up," you mumble, gripping your files tightly, your voice sounding forced. You shift awkwardly, hoping she doesn't figure it out.

Seoyeon looks at you, her brow creasing for a moment, but then she laughs softly to herself. "Weird smell in here," she mutters, almost like she's talking to herself, before turning to the copier, her fingers tapping the screen.

You let out a quiet breath, relief mixing with shame, your cock stirring slightly at the memory of Eunbi's pussy even as you stand here with Seoyeon, your crush, who has no clue about what just happened.

You want to say something, maybe chat to make things feel normal, but your mind's empty, caught between Eunbi's wild moans and Seoyeon's gentle presence. "Need help with that?" you ask weakly, pointing at the copier, trying to act casual.

She smiles, shaking her head. "I'm good, thanks." Her voice is soft, her eyes kind, and you feel a twinge of guilt, like you're betraying her just by being here after what you did. You nod, muttering a quick, "See you, then."

The next few weeks are wild, your life caught in a loop of secret hookups and sneaky moments that keep you on edge.

Eunbi doesn't stop. She finds any reason to get you alone, another quickie in the photocopy room, a fast fuck in the storage closet, her skirt up, panties pushed aside, your cock deep in her wet pussy as she whispers, "Mommy needs this, darling."

Every time, she comes hard, her juices soaking you, begging you to cum inside her, and you can't resist, your cock pulsing as you fill her again and again.

In the office, her teasing is quieter now, a coffee here, a light touch there, but her eyes always hint at more, and you're hooked, even though getting caught feels closer every day.

456 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 13 days ago

Text

Office Desire (Saerom)

Lee Saerom / Kwon Eunbi / Yoon Seoyeon

9.4k+

It's Thursday afternoon, and the office is loud and busy as you working on a client's tagline at your desk.

An email from Saerom pops up: "Files Needed ASAP."

She writes, "Hey, cutie. Got those files? Bring them to me. Don't be late." Her tone makes you blush. Saerom's always teasing you, winking, touching your arm in meetings, making you nervous with her charm.

You copy the files onto a flash drive and walk to her desk. Saerom's area is neat but has her style, coffee mugs with lipstick marks, fashion magazines, and a photo of her looking glamorous. She's typing, looking sharp in a tight blazer, her hair perfectly smooth.

"Here's the files," you say quietly, handing her the drive.

She smiles, taking it, her fingers touching yours a bit too long. "So quick," she teases, leaning back, her skirt sliding up slightly, "Hold up. I wanna check them."

You nod, stand awkwardly as she opens the files, her eyes flicking to you playfully.

Suddenly, she pulls you closer by your waist. "Don't be shy," she says, her voice soft.

You freeze as her hand moves lower, brushing against your pants where your cock already half hard from her teasing.

"What's this?" she whispers, smirking, her fingers tracing you slowly. You're embarrassed, unable to speak, your face turns hot.

"Ms. Saerom-" you start, but she laughs.

"Ms.? Just call me Saerom, with noona would be better," she says, her touch bolder, making you tense, "Relax, no ones looking."

Her perfume surrounds you, and your torn part of you wants to run, but part of you likes it. The office is busy, and no one notices, but the risk makes it intense.

Then, Eunbi from sales walks up, confident and smiling. "Saerom, are you stealing our writer again?" she teases, noticing Saerom's hand near your pants.

Saerom doesn't move, saying, "Just checking his… work."

Eunbi laughs, stepping closer, "Are you okay, darling?" she says to you, her hand brushing your arm.

"I'm fine," you mumble, stepping back.

Saerom lets go slowly, winking. "Good job, cutie." she says.

Eunbi smiles as you hurry back to your desk, still flustered, heart pounding.

At your desk, you try to calm down, don't know if you can handle this forever.

The day is finally over, and you're at your desk, shoving your laptop and papers into your bag, ready to head home and crash.

You're exhausted from the day, trying to keep up with work. All you want is to relax and forget the office chaos.

As you zip up your bag, Saerom walks over, her heels clicking softly.

She's still in her tight blazer, her hair a little messy but sexy, and that teasing smile is back on her face. She leans against your desk, close enough that you catch her strong perfume, and it makes your stomach flip.

"Hey, cutie," she says, her voice low and playful, like she's up to something, "Got plans tonight? I need your favor to help me move some boxes at my place. It won't take long." She tilts her head, her eyes locked on yours, making you more nervous.

You pause, gripping your bag, "Uh, I just gonna go home," you say quietly, avoiding her gaze. You're tired, and the idea of more work sounds like too much. Plus, Saerom's flirty always leaves you flustered, and you're not sure if you can handle being alone with her.

She pouts, stepping closer, her hand brushing your arm lightly. "Please?" she says, her voice softer now, almost begging.

"I'll make it worth it. I'll cook you dinner, something really good, like pasta or steak. And I'll give you some cash for the help. Come on, don't make me beg too hard." She giggles, biting her lip, and her fingers linger on your sleeve, sending a little tension through you.

Your face heats up, and you feel your cock twitch in your pants, stirred by her closeness and that flirty tone. You know she's trouble, her teasing in the office already messes with your head, but the thought of being at her place, eating her food, maybe seeing more of her game, pulls you in.

You glance at her, and her eyes are sparkling with mischief, like she knows exactly what she's doing to you. "Huft... okay," you mumble, barely audible, your heart pounding. "I'll help."

Saerom's grin lights up, and she claps her hands together, "Yes! You're the best," she says, her voice excited.

"Meet me at my car in ten minutes, okay? Don't keep me waiting," she winks, her hips swaying as she walks away, leaving you staring after her, your mind racing.

You sit back down for a second, trying to calm the heat in your cheeks and the growing hardness in your pants. You're nervous, excited, and a little scared, wondering what's waiting at her place and if you're ready for whatever she has planned.

You don't know much about her, just bits and pieces from office chatter. She's young, maybe in her early thirties, but already a widow.

Her husband passed away a couple of years ago, leaving her alone, and you've heard she's been on her own since. It makes her flirty, confident vibe feel a little heavier, like there's a story behind her teasing smiles.

You grab your bag and head to the parking lot, spotting Saerom's sleek black car. She's already inside, her window rolled down, "Hop in, cutie," she calls.

You nod, feeling a bit shy, and slide into the passenger seat. The car smells like her perfume, and your heart beats faster, but you try to stay cool.

Saerom focuses on driving, her hands steady on the wheel, eyes on the road. She doesn't tease or flirt, just hums softly to the radio, which is a relief.

The ride is quick and quiet, no weird moments, and you're glad for that. You can calm down, stare out of the window, enjoy the scenes of lights night city.

In no time, you pull up to her apartment building, a modern, tall place with glass windows. She parks and turns to you, smiling. "Thanks for coming," she says.

"Let’s head up." You grab your bag and follow her, feeling nervous but curious, wondering what's next in her world.

You follow Saerom into her apartment, and the door clicks shut behind you. Her place is nice, spacious, with modern furniture, big windows showing the city lights, and a cozy vibe.

"I'm gonna change real quick," Saerom says, pointing to the couch, "Sit, make yourself at home." She disappears down a hallway, leaving you alone.

You set your bag down and wander a bit, looking around. The apartment feels personal, there's a shelf with books, some plants, and a few framed photos.

One catches your eye: a picture of a man, maybe in his late twenties, smiling brightly. It must be her late husband. You remember what you heard at the office, that she's a young widow, her husband gone too soon.

Your chest tightens, feeling sorry for her loss. She's so lively at work, but this must weigh on her.

As you're staring at the photo, Saerom's voice startles you, right behind your ear, "He looks a lot like you."

You jump, turning to find her standing close, her breath warm on your neck. Your heart skips. "A-a lot?” you stammer, caught off guard.

She nods, her eyes soft but with a bitter smile. "Mhm. He was younger than me, cute, quiet, worked hard. But fate took him first." Her voice is steady, but there’s pain there.

You don't know what to say, feeling awkward. "I-I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down.

Saerom tilts her head, her smile warming a little. "Sorry for what? You didn't do anything wrong."

She steps closer, and you finally notice what she's wearing a black lingerie robe, thick but sheer enough to show her bra and panties underneath.

Your eyes widen, and your face burns. Your cock twitches in your pants, and you try to focus on her face, but it’s hard.

"Ms. Saerom…" you start, voice shaky, "a-are you sure about… that outfit?" you gesture vaguely, embarrassed.

She laughs, amused, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What? Don't like it? Is it ugly?" she teases, stepping even closer, her robe brushing your arm.

"Or… want me to wear nothing?” Her voice is bold now, daring, and your cock hardens more, making you shift uncomfortably.

"N-no, no!" you blurt, waving your hands.

"Keep it on! I mean, it's fine. Better than… nothing." Your words tumble out.

Saerom grins, "Alright, since my cutie want me to cover this," she listens to you and grabs a thicker robe, tying it tightly so it covers her body better.

You feel a bit relieved, your heart still racing from her teasing, but now you can focus.

"Let's get the work," she leads you to a small storage room in her apartment.

She points out boxes and items that need moving and organizing. "Just put these in there, stack them neatly," she says, her tone more practical now, though her playful smile lingers.

You get to work, carrying boxes and bags to the storage room. The stuff isn't heavy, mostly old books, clothes, and some random decor, but there's a lot of it, and it takes effort to move and arrange everything. You're sweating a bit, your arms tired as you stack boxes on shelves and push bags into corners.

Saerom follows you, giving directions like, "That one goes on the top shelf," or "Put those in the back, please." She’s close, watching you work, her presence still making you a little nervous.

After tidying up the storage room, you're sweaty and tired.

Saerom claps her hands with a grin, "You've more than earned that dinner I promised," she says, her voice light.

"Give me some minutes to cook something for you." She heads to the kitchen, and soon the apartment fills with the mouthwatering aroma of garlic and cream.

You sit at her small, cozy dining table, watching her move confidently around the kitchen. She’s still in her thicker robe, her hair loose now, and you try to shake off the lingering tension from earlier.

In about 10 minutes, she brings over two plates of creamy fettuccine Alfredo, the pasta glossy with sauce, and two tall glasses of iced tea with lemon slices, "Hope you're hungry," she says, sitting across from you, her smile warm and inviting.

You dig in, and the pasta is delicious, rich and perfectly cooked, the iced tea refreshing after all the work.

As you eat, Saerom starts talking about her late husband, "He was a lot like you, you know," she says softly, twirling her fork in her pasta.

"Quiet, kind of shy, but so dedicated. He'd work late, always trying to make things better for us. We had dreams, traveling, maybe starting a little business. But then he got sick… and he was gone before we could do any of it." Her voice stays steady, but her eyes sharing old pain.

You listen closely, nodding, feeling her loss in the quiet pauses. "That sounds really tough," you say gently, wanting to comfort her but unsure how.

She gives you a small, bittersweet smile, "It was. But life goes on, right?"

You finish eating, and the meal leaves you full and content. Saerom stands, stacking the empty plates. "Let me grab that money I owe you," she says, heading to her room, "Stay there."

You lean back in the chair, sipping the last of your iced tea, thinking about her story, how she's so strong, carrying that grief yet still teasing at work. It makes you see her differently, like there's more to her than the flirty office games.

A moment later, she's back, holding a few crisp bills. "Here you go," she says, handing them to you with a smile.

You take the money, mumbling, "Thanks, Ms. Saerom." But before you can pocket it, she steps closer, her fingers tugging at the tie of her robe.

In one smooth motion, she pulls it open and lets it drop to the floor, revealing she's completely naked underneath, no black lingerie she had wear it before.

Her skin glows under the soft apartment lights, every curve exposed, and your jaw drops. Your cock surges to life, instantly hard, straining painfully against your pants.

"This is what you were hoping for, right?" she asks, her voice low and teasing, a wicked smirk playing on her lips.

You're speechless, face burning, heart hammering in your chest. Your eyes can't help but trace her body, and your cock throbs.

"I-I… uh," you stammer, brain scrambled, torn between shock and raw desire.

Saerom stands confidently, unbothered by her nudity, clearly enjoying how flustered you are.

She grabs your wrist, her grip firm but not rough. "Come," she says, her voice low and commanding.

Before you can process, she's pulling you toward her bedroom, her naked body moving ahead of you. Your heart pounds, your cock throbbing so hard it's almost painful, and you're half-dazed, unsure if you're scared or just too turned on to think straight.

She leads you into her room, dimly lit, with a big bed covered in soft sheets, and yanks you toward it, pushing you down onto the mattress with a playful but dominant shove.

You land on your back, staring up at her, your breath shaky. She's standing over you, completely bare naked, her eyes intense and hungry.

You're nervous about her boldness, her control. "Ms. Saerom…" you start, voice trembling, trying to find words.

She cuts you off, leaning down, her face close to yours. "Don't 'Ms.' me," she says, her tone sharp but teasing.

"Call me noona if you want this to keep going," her hands move to her body, one cupping her breast, squeezing it slowly, the other sliding down to her pussy, her fingers brushing herself like she's putting on a show.

The sight makes your cock twitch, straining against your pants, and you can't hold back anymore.

"Noona… S-Saerom-noona!" you blurt out, the words spilling from you instinctively.

Her eyes light up, and she smirks, pleased. "Good boy," she purrs, climbing onto the bed.

She straddles you, her bare skin warm against your clothed body, and leans down, kissing you deeply.

Her lips are soft, her tongue pushing into your mouth, and you melt under her, kissing her back as your hands hover, unsure where to touch.

She presses herself closer, her weight pinning you down, until you both lying on the bed, her body on top of yours, her kiss pulling you deeper into the heat of the moment. Your cock pulses beneath her, and you're lost, caught in her control, not sure where this is going but too far gone to care.

Her hands move to your jeans. Still straddling you, she deftly unbuckles your belt, the metal clinking softly, and pops open the button with ease.

Her fingers tug down your zipper, all while her tongue dances with yours, keeping you dizzy with sensation. You're pinned beneath her on the bed, heart racing, your cock so hard it's almost painful.

She breaks the kiss just enough to glance down, her hand slipping into your open jeans. With a quick tug, she pulls them down slightly, freeing your fully erect cock.

It springs out, throbbing, and she wraps her fingers around it, stroking slowly. Her touch is warm and deliberate, sending a jolt through your body.

You gasp against her lips, and she smirks into the kiss, clearly enjoying your reaction. Her thumb brushes over the tip, spreading the slick pre-cum that's already leaking out, making her strokes smoother, teasingly slow.

"Relax, cutie, you're not going anywhere, aren't you?" she whispers against your mouth, her voice low and sultry, before kissing you again, deeper this time.

Her lips move against yours, her kiss fierce and consuming, while her hand keeps stroking your cock, slow and teasing, spreading the pre-cum over your length.

Your breaths come out shaky, every touch making your body tense with need.

She pulls back from the kiss, her eyes glinting with that familiar mischievous spark, and she shifts lower, her bare skin brushing against you as she moves.

"Look at you, so hard for noona," she murmurs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Her grip tightens slightly, pumping your cock a little faster now, her fingers slick with your pre-cum.

You groan softly, hips twitching up into her hand, unable to help yourself. She chuckles, low and sultry, clearly loving how much control she has over you.

She leans down, her breath hot against your neck as she whispers, "You're so cute when you're like this."

Her lips graze your skin, kissing along your jaw, then lower, while her hand never stops its steady rhythm.

Your cock throbs harder, the heat of her touch and her closeness driving you to the edge. You're still fully clothed except for your open jeans, and the contrast of her naked body against you makes everything feel even more intense.

"Saerom-noona…" you manage to gasp, your voice weak.

She smirks, slowing her strokes again, teasing you, keeping you right on the edge, "Shh, just let me take care of you," she says, her free hand sliding up your chest, pushing your shirt up to expose your skin.

Her fingers trail over your stomach, and you shiver under her touch, your cock pulsing in her grip. You're completely at her control, heart pounding, not sure how much more you can take.

Her hand keeps stroking your cock, her fingers slick with your pre-cum, moving in a slow, torturous rhythm that makes your whole body tense with need.

Her lips trail from your neck back to your mouth, kissing you deeply, her tongue swirling against yours, pulling soft moans from you. You're still pinned under her on the bed, your jeans pushed down just enough to free your throbbing cock, your shirt bunched up from her roaming hands.

She pulls back from the kiss, her eyes dark with hunger, a wicked smile curling her lips. "You're such a good boy for noona," she purrs, her voice low and teasing.

Her hand slows on your cock, and you whimper, hips bucking slightly, desperate for more. She chuckles, clearly enjoying how much she's unraveling you. "Patience," she whispers, shifting her body lower, her breasts brushing against your chest as she moves down.

Your heart races as you realize where she's going. Saerom settles between your legs, her hands tugging your jeans down further to give her more access.

Your cock stands fully hard, glistening with pre-cum from her earlier teasing. She looks up at you, locking eyes, and the intensity in her gaze makes your breath catch.

Without breaking eye contact, she leans forward, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of your cock, tasting the slickness there. You groan, your head falling back against the pillow, the sensation sharp and electric.

“Fuck, Saerom-noona…” you mumble, voice shaky. She smirks, clearly pleased, and wraps her lips around the head of your cock, sucking gently at first.

Her tongue swirls over the tip, warm and wet, and your hips twitch up instinctively. She hums against you, the vibration sending a jolt through your body, and takes you deeper into her mouth, her lips sliding down your length. Her hand grips the base of your cock, stroking what her mouth doesn't cover, while her tongue works you with slow, deliberate licks.

She's good, too good. Her mouth is hot and tight, and she bobs her head slowly, sucking harder each time she pulls back. Your cock is soaked now, slick with her spit and your pre-cum, and the wet sounds fill the room, mixing with your uneven breaths.

You grip the sheets, trying to stay grounded, but it's overwhelming, her lips, her tongue, the way she moans softly around you like she's enjoying it as much as you are. Your cock throbs in her mouth, and you're already so close, the heat building fast.

Saerom senses it and pulls off with a soft pop, her lips shiny, a string of spit connecting her mouth to your cock. "Not yet," she teases, licking her lips as she crawls back up your body.

"I'm not done with you," her voice is sultry, and your eyes widen as she straddles you again, positioning herself right over your slick, aching cock.

You can feel the heat of her pussy hovering just above you, and it’s driving you crazy, "Saerom-noona…" you start, but she shushes you with a finger to your lips.

"Shushh, silence," she says, gripping your cock with one hand, lining it up with her entrance.

She's wet, dripping, you can tell, and the sight of her above you, naked and confident, makes your head spin.

Slowly, she lowers herself, the head of your cock slipping into her tight, warm pussy. You both gasp, she's so hot and slick, gripping you perfectly as she sinks down, taking you inch by inch until you're fully inside her.

"Oh, fuck," you groan, your hands instinctively grabbing her hips, feeling the softness of her skin.

She moans softly, her head tilting back as she adjusts to your size, her pussy clenching around you, making your cock pulse inside her.

"So good," she murmurs, starting to move, her hips rolling slowly at first, grinding down on you. The sensation is intense, her tight walls squeezing you, and you're already fighting to hold on.

Saerom leans forward, her hands on your chest, pushing your shirt up further as she rides you, her movements picking up speed.

Her breasts bounce slightly, and you can't stop staring at her, her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, the way she looks like she's lost in this as much as you are.

"You like this, don't you?" she whispers, her voice teasing but breathy, her pussy tightening around your cock as she moves faster.

You nod, barely able to speak, your hands gripping her hips tighter, urging her on.

Your cock is buried deep in her now, every thrust of her hips sending waves of pleasure through you, the sound of her moans and the wet slap of her skin against yours filling your ears.

You're close, too close, and she knows it, her eyes locking on yours as she rides you harder, daring you to lose control.

"Saerom-noona… I-I can't…" you stammer, your cock throbbing inside her, the pressure building fast.

"Not yet, good boy," she says, leaning down to kiss you again, her lips crashing against yours as her pussy squeezes you even tighter. .

"Saerom-noona…" you gasp, your voice desperate as your hands gripping her hips tighter, trying to hold on.

She smirks, slowing her movements just enough to keep you teetering on the brink, her pussy clenching around you like she's enjoyed every second of this.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" she whispers, leaning down, her lips brushing your ear. Her breath is hot, and her words send a shiver through you.

"You're doing so well for noona." She straightens up again, her hands sliding down to brace on your stomach as she picks up the pace, her hips slamming down harder now.

Your cock is so hard it hurts, slick with her juices, and you can feel the pressure building, your whole body tensing.

She notices, her eyes glinting with that playtful spark, "Don't you dare come yet," she says, her voice firm but playful, "I want to enjoy you a little longer."

She grinds down slowly now, letting you feel every inch of her tight walls as she drags herself up and down your length.

You groan, your head falling back against the pillow, your hands clutching her hips like they're the only thing keeping you grounded.

It's torture, the way she’s controlling the pace, keeping you right on the edge but not letting you tip over.

She leans forward again, her breasts brushing your chest as she kisses you, her tongue dive into your mouth. You kiss her back, your hips bucking up into her instinctively.

She pulls back, gasping softly, a string of spit connecting your lips. "So eager," she teases, her hand reaching down to grip the base of your cock, giving it a quick squeeze before she starts riding you again, faster this time.

Your cock pulses inside her, the heat and tightness overwhelming. "Noona… please…" you beg, your voice barely a whisper, your body trembling under her.

You're so close, every thrust pushing you further, the slick heat of her pussy driving you insane.

She smirks, clearly loving how desperate you are, and shifts her hips, angling herself so your cock hits deeper, making her moan louder.

"Okay, good boy," she murmurs, her voice breathy now, like she's getting close too, "Let's see how much you can take."

She rides you harder, her pussy clamping down on your cock, and you can't hold back anymore.

Your hips jerk up, your cock throbbing as the pressure snaps, "I'm cumming-!" and you come hard, "Erghh..." a low groan escaping you as you spill inside her, wave after wave of release flooding through you.

Saerom moans, feeling you fill her, and she keeps moving, riding you through your orgasm, her hips slowing but never stopping, "Good boy," she whispers, leaning down to kiss you softly, her lips gentle now.

Your cock twitches inside her, still sensitive, as she finally stills, her body warm and heavy on top of you. She stays there for a moment, catching her breath, her pussy still gripping you tightly, before sliding off slowly, leaving you empty and dazed.

She lies next to you, her hand resting on your chest, a satisfied smile on her face. "You did good," she says softly, her teasing edge gone, replaced by something warmer.

You're still catching your breath, your mind spinning, your cock softening but still tingling from the intensity.

You gasp awake, your vision blurry, body heavy against the soft sheets.

As your eyes adjust to the dim light, the reality hits you like a shockwave, you had sex with Saerom.

Your heart starts pounding again, and you turn your head to see her sitting beside you on the bed, naked, her body barely covered by the same thin sheet draped over you.

Her hair is messy, her skin glowing faintly in the low light, and she’s looking at you with a soft, amused smile.

"Ms. Saerom…?" you mumble, voice hoarse, your mind scrambling to piece it together.

"What…? did I…?" You’re dazed, still processing the intensity of what happened, your cock twitching faintly at the memory of her riding you, her tight pussy gripping you.

Saerom chuckles, leaning closer, and playfully flicks your nose with her finger, "Yes, you did," she says, her voice teasing but warm.

"You fucked me, cutie boy. Don't act so surprised," her words are blunt, and your face burns, a feel of embarrassment swirling in your chest.

She shifts, the sheet slipping slightly, revealing more of her skin, and you can’t help but glance at her curves before looking away, flustered.

You sit up slowly, the sheet falling to your lap, exposing your bare chest, "I-I… didn't expect…" you stammer, rubbing your face, trying to make sense of it.

Saerom tilts her head, her smile softening. "You are definitely expected this, aren't you?" she says, her hand resting on your arm, her touch gentle now.

"You were great. No need to overthink it." She pulls the sheet tighter around herself, but her eyes stay locked on yours, still carrying that playful glint.

"Want some water? Or… round two?" she teases, raising an eyebrow, and you feel your cock twitch again, your body betraying how much you’re still drawn to her.

She slips out of bed, the sheet still wrapped loosely around her, and pads to the kitchen, "Stay there," she calls over her shoulder, her voice light.

You sit on her bed, still half-dazed, your jeans awkwardly pulled back up but unbuttoned, your shirt crumpled. Your mind replays the night, her body on yours, her moans, the way she called you "good boy"

She returns with a glass of water and hands it to you, her fingers brushing yours, "Drink," she says, sitting beside you, the sheet slipping slightly to reveal her shoulder and a hint of her chest.

You take the glass, sipping slowly, the cool water calming your dry throat. You're shy, avoiding her gaze, staring at the glass.

Saerom leans back, propping herself on one hand, watching you with a small, knowing smile, "You’re so quiet now," she teases, her tone gentle.

"Was I too much for you?" she laughs softly, and you shake your head, cheeks burning, taking another sip to avoid answering.

She starts chatting casually, like you didn't just fuck her senseless. "You did good with those boxes earlier," she says.

"Stronger than you look." Her voice is warm, almost normal, but the way she's sitting there, barely covered, keeps you on edge.

Then she shifts closer, her tone changing, more curious. "So… I've seen you at work, you know. The way you look at Seoyeon," she tilts her head, her eyes narrowing playfully.

"Got a little crush on her, don't you? Those sneaky glances when she's sketching at her tablet, the way you smile when you two chat in the pantry..."

Your stomach flips, caught off guard. You nearly choke on your water, setting the glass down on the nightstand. "W-what? Seoyeon? I-I don't…" you stammer, face hot, but Saerom just grins, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction.

"Oh, don't lie," she says, nudging your arm with her elbow.

"It's cute. She's sweet, right? Quiet like you, but I bet she's got a wild side too," she winks, and you're not sure if she's teasing or fishing for something.

Your mind races, Seoyeon's kind smile, her soft voice, the way your heart skips when she talks to you. You do like her, but admitting it to Saerom, after what just happened, feels like stepping into a trap.

"I… I mean, she's nice," you mumble, looking down, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the sheet. "We just talk sometimes."

Saerom laughs, leaning closer, her bare shoulder brushing yours, "Uh-huh, 'nice', sure," she pauses, her voice softening, "You know, it's okay if you like her. But..." she trails off, her hand resting on your thigh, her touch light but enough to make your cock stir again.

"You're here with me now, so maybe I'm a little jealous," her tone is playful, make you shy.

She catches your flustered expression, her playful smile turning into something hungrier. "You're cute when you're shy," she says, her voice dropping low, "but I think you've got more for noona, don't you?"

Before you can respond, she leans in, kissing you deeply, her tongue sliding against yours, reigniting the heat from earlier. You melt into it, your hands finding her waist, the sheet slipping off her completely, leaving her naked again.

She pulls back, eyes locked on yours, and slides off the bed, standing at the edge, "Come here," she says, her tone commanding but teasing.

She turns, bending over the bed, her hands bracing on the mattress, her ass up and inviting. The sight of her like this, curves exposed, pussy glistening from earlier, makes your cock fully hard again, throbbing with need.

"Fuck me like this," she says, glancing back at you, her voice daring, a smirk on her lips.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding, but you're too turned on to hesitate long. You kick off your jeans completely, your shirt tossed aside, and move behind her, your hands shaking slightly as you grip her hips.

Her skin is warm, soft, and she arches her back, pushing her ass toward you, making it clear she wants you now, "Don't be shy, be a good boy," she murmurs, wiggling her hips slightly, her pussy slick and ready.

You line up your cock, the tip brushing against her wet folds, and you groan at the contact. She's so warm, so inviting, and you can't hold back.

You push into her slowly, feeling her tight pussy stretch around you, gripping you as you slide deeper. She moans, low and needy, her head dropping forward as you fill her, "Fuck, yes…" she breathes, her voice shaking with pleasure. "Yeah, like that."

You start moving, thrusting into her, your hands gripping her hips tighter to steady yourself. Her pussy feels incredible, hot and wet, clenching around your cock with every thrust.

Sound of your hips slapping against her ass fills the room, mixing with her moans and your heavy breaths. Your cock throbs inside her, the pleasure building fast.

"Harder," she says, her voice sharp, turning her head to look back at you. Her eyes are dark, urging you on.

"Fuck me harder," you obey, picking up the pace, slamming into her with more force, your fingers digging into her hips.

She gasps, then moans louder, her hands clutching the sheets as she pushes back against you, meeting your thrusts, "Good boy… like that," she pants, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

You're lost in it now, your cock buried deep in her pussy, the wet, tight heat. You reach forward, grabbing a handful of her hair gently, pulling just enough to make her moan louder.

She loves it, her pussy tightening around you, and you feel yourself getting close again, the pressure building in your balls.

"Ms. Saerom… I'm…" you start, your voice strained, but she cuts you off, "Not yet," she gasps, pushing back harder.

"Make me come first," her words are a challenge, and you focus, thrusting deeper, faster, angling your cock to hit her just right.

Her moans turn into cries, her body trembling under you, and you can tell she's close.

Your hand slides around to her front, finding her clit, rubbing it in quick circles as you fuck her.

"Fuck yeah... so good," that pushes her over the edge,

"Ahh~!" she screams, her pussy clamping down on your cock as she comes, her whole body shaking.

You thrust a few more times, before your cock pulses hard, and pleasure snapped, you come, spilling deep inside her, "Ms. Saerom!" you groaning as the pleasure washes over you.

Saerom moans softly, riding out her orgasm as you fill her, her hips still moving slightly until you’re both spent.

You pull out slowly, your cock slick and softening, and collapse onto the bed beside her, breathing hard.

Saerom lowers herself onto the mattress, turning to face you, a satisfied smile on her face. The sheet is somewhere on the floor now, and she doesn't bother covering up, her sweaty, flushed body pressed close to yours.

She shifts closer, her lips brushing your ear. "You're not done yet, are you, good boy?" she whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallow, unsure if you can keep up, but her hand slides down your stomach, brushing dangerously close to your cock, and you feel it twitch, already stirring again. "Ms. Saerom..." you mumble, half-exhausted, half-turned on, but she just chuckles, nipping at your earlobe.

"I'm noona for now" she coaxes, rolling onto her side, her back facing you, her ass pressing lightly against your hips.

"One more for noona," she glances over her shoulder, her eyes daring you, and wiggles her hips, the curve of her body inviting you in. You can't resist her, your cock hardens fully again, pressing against her ass.

You wrap an arm around her, pulling her tight against your chest, your lips brushing her neck as you position yourself. Your cock nudges between her thighs, finding her pussy, still wet and slick from your last round, your cum mixed with her juices.

"Fuck me now," she murmurs, her voice soft but needy, pushing back slightly to guide you in.

Slide into her slowly, you spoon her, your cock slipping easily into her tight, warm pussy.

She moans softly, her head tilting back against your shoulder as you fill her, the angle making her feel impossibly tighy, "Oh, yes..." she breathes, her hand reaching back to grip your hip, urging you deeper.

You start moving, thrusting gently at first, your cock gliding in and out of her, the wet heat gripping you with every stroke, your bodies pressed so close, your arm wrapped around her, one hand cupping her breast as you fuck her.

"Harder," she says, her voice a little sharper now, her ass pushing back against you.

You pick up the pace, thrusting deeper, your cock hitting spots that make her gasp, her pussy clenching around you.

Your hand squeezes her breast, your fingers teasing her nipple, and she whimpers, her body trembling against yours. You kiss her neck, sucking lightly on her skin, and she tilts her head to give you more access, her hand tightening on your hip.

"Good boy..." she pants, her voice shaky with pleasure.

Your cock throbs inside her, the slow build of pleasure growing faster now, her pussy so tight and perfect it's driving you wild.

You slide your hand down from her breast to her stomach, then lower, finding her clit. You rub it in small, firm circles, and she cries out, her body arching against you, her pussy squeezing your cock even tighter.

"Fuck, Saerom-noona..." you groan, your thrusts getting harder, more desperate. She's moaning louder now, her body shaking as you fuck her, your fingers working her clit in time with your cock.

"I'm close," she gasps, her voice raw, her hand clutching your arm. You keep going, pounding into her, your cock pulsing, the pleasure overwhelming.

She comes first, her pussy clamping down hard on your cock as she moans your name, her body shuddering in your arms.

You thrust deep, groaning as you come, your cock spurting inside her, filling her again.

Keep moving, you ride out the waves of pleasure, your bodies locked together, until you're both spent, your breaths heavy and uneven.

Saerom relaxes against you, her body soft and warm in your arms, your cock still inside her, softening slowly. She turns her head slightly, kissing your jaw, a tired but satisfied smile on her lips.

She shifts slightly, turning in your arms to face you, her lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Her eyes, still heavy with lust, sparkle with that familiar teasing glint. "Ready for next?” she murmurs, her voice husky, a playful challenge in her tone.

Shake your head, your heart racing again, your cock already stirring at her words despite how spent you feel. "Saerom-noona..." you start, voice weak, but she just smiles, kissing you again, deeper this time, her tongue flicking against yours.

She pulls back, sliding out of your arms and lying on her back, she spreads her legs wide, her thighs parting slowly, giving you a clear view of her pussy, still slick with your cum and her juices, pink and inviting.

She reaches down with one hand, her fingers gently parting her folds, showing you how wet she is, her entrance glistening. "Come on, good boy," she says, her voice low and seductive, her eyes locked on yours. "Fuck me like this. I want to see your face."

Your cock hardens fully at the sight, throbbing with renewed need in your body. You move, positioning yourself between her legs, your hands trembling slightly as you brace them on either side of her.

She's so open, so confident, and the way she's looking at you, like she's daring you to please her, makes your pulse race.

Lean down, you kissing her softly, and she wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you closer, her lips hungry against yours.

Line up your cock, the tip brushing against her wet folds, and she moans softly, her hips tilting up to meet you. "Don't make noona wait," she whispers, her fingers digging into your shoulders.

Push in slowly, you feel her pussy stretch around you, so tight and warm, still dripping from before. She gasps as you fill her, her legs wrapping around your waist, pulling you deeper, "Fuck, yes..." she breathes, her head tilting back, her eyes fluttering shut.

You start thrusting, your cock sliding in and out of her with slow, deep strokes at first. Her pussy grips you tightly, every movement sending sparks of pleasure through you. Her moans are soft but needy, her hands roaming your back, nails grazing your skin.

"Harder," she says, her voice sharp, urging you on. You pick up the pace, slamming into her, your hips meeting hers with a wet slap that fills the room. Her breasts bounce with each thrust, and she opens her eyes, locking them on yours, her gaze intense and raw.

"God, you're so good," she moans, her hands sliding down to grip your ass, pulling you even deeper. Her pussy clenches around your cock, making you groan, your thrusts growing more desperate.

Lean down, you kiss her neck, sucking lightly on her skin, and she arches into you, her moans louder now. Your hand finds her breast, squeezing it, your thumb teasing her nipple, and she whimpers, her body trembling beneath you.

You can feel the pressure building again, your cock throbbing inside her, the slick heat of her pussy driving you closer to the edge. "Saerom-noona... I'm..." your voice strained, but she cuts you off, her hands cupping your face, pulling you into another deep kiss.

"Come for me," she whispers against your lips, her pussy tightening around you, pushing you over.

You thrust hard, one last time, and come, groaning loudly as you spill inside her, your cock pulsing with every wave.

"Yes... ahh~!" she moans, her legs tightening around you as she feels you fill her, her own orgasm hitting as her pussy clenches hard, her body shaking under you. You keep moving, riding out the pleasure, until you're both panting, spent, and tangled together.

She shifts, propping herself up on one elbow, her lips curling into that familiar, wicked smirk. "Last one for noona?" she murmurs, her voice soft but dripping with intent.

You're about to protest, your body pushed to its limit, but before you can speak, Saerom's hand slides down your stomach, brushing over your soft cock.

Her touch is gentle, coaxing, and even though you're drained, you feel a twitch, your body responding to her. "Saerom-noona" you mumble, half-dazed, but she shushes you with a quick kiss, her lips soft and teasing.

"Let me take care of you," she whispers, sliding down the bed, her hair trailing over your skin as she moves. She settles between your legs, her hands spreading your thighs slightly.

Your cock is half-hard now, stirred by her closeness and the anticipation of what's coming. She looks up at you, eyes glinting, and runs her tongue slowly over her lips. "Just relax, good boy."

She leans in, her breath hot against your cock before she kisses the tip, soft and deliberate. You groan, your head falling back against the pillow as she wraps her lips around you, sucking gently.

Her tongue flicks over the sensitive head, tasting the mix of your cum and her juices from earlier, and your cock hardens fully in her mouth, throbbing under her touch. She hums, the vibration sending a jolt through you, and takes you deeper, her lips sliding down your length, her hand stroking the base.

Her mouth is warm and wet, her tongue swirling around you with slow, practiced skill. She bobs her head, sucking harder, her cheeks hollowing as she works you, the wet sounds filling the room.

Your hands grip the sheets, pleasure building fast despite how many times you’ve come tonight. "Fuck, noona..." you gasp, your hips twitching up instinctively, but she presses a hand on your thigh, keeping you in place, fully in control.

She pulls back slightly, her lips shiny, a string of spit connecting her mouth to your cock. "You taste so good," she murmurs, her voice sultry, before diving back in, taking you even deeper.

Her tongue presses against the underside of your cock, and she sucks hard, her hand pumping you in rhythm with her mouth. You're overwhelmed, the pleasure sharp and relentless, your cock throbbing as she pushes you closer to the edge.

"Saerom-noona... I'm gonna..." you manage, your voice strained, your body tensing.

She doesn't slow down, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, urging you on. Her mouth works faster, her lips tight around you, her hand twisting slightly as she strokes.

It's too much, the heat, the suction, the way she's so focused on making you lose it.

You groan loudly, your hips bucking, and you come, hard, your cock pulsing as you shoot into her mouth.

Saerom moans softly, taking every drop, her lips staying locked around you as you spill, her tongue milking you through the orgasm.

You're shaking, the pleasure so intense it leaves you breathless, your vision blurring for a moment.

She swallows, her throat working, and slowly pulls off, licking her lips clean with a satisfied smile. A bit of your cum glistens at the corner of her mouth, and she swipes it with her finger, popping it back in with a playful wink.

"Good boy," she says, crawling up to lie beside you, her body warm against yours. You're completely spent, your cock soft and sensitive, your body heavy with exhaustion.

You're too tired to respond, your mind a haze of pleasure and disbelief, still processing this night, fucking Saerom over and over, ending with her sucking you dry. You feel her heartbeat against you, her warmth grounding you as you drift, unsure what this all means but too worn out to care.

You stumble out of the bathroom, freshly showered, your body clean but still heavy with exhaustion from the wild night.

Your hair is damp, and you're back in your jeans and crumpled shirt, feeling a mix of satisfaction and disbelief as you replay everything in your head. You grab your bag, ready to head home, your mind still spinning.

She is waiting for you in the living room, now dressed in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, her hair tied up messily. She looks softer, less intense than before, but her eyes still have that warm, knowing glint.

She's leaning against the couch, arms crossed, a small smile on her lips as you walk in. "Feeling better?" she asks, her voice light but genuine.

You nod, a bit shy again, rubbing the back of your neck. "Yeah, thanks… for everything," you mumble, not sure what else to say.

Saerom steps closer, her smile softening. "No, thank you," she says, her tone sincere.

"For helping with the boxes… and, well, for tonight," she pauses, looking down for a moment, then back at you, her eyes searching yours.

"It's been a long time since I've felt like this… since I've fucked like that," her words are blunt, and you blush, but her honesty makes your chest tighten.

She reaches out, touching your arm gently. "You’re special, you know that?" she says, her voice quieter now.

"I mean it. Don't ever change, okay? Stay this sweet, shy guy who's so good to me." her fingers linger, and her expression turns serious.

"And don't turn away from me, no matter what. Promise me that."

You're caught off guard, her words heavy with meaning you don't fully understand, "I… I won't," you say softly, nodding, though you're not sure what you're promising. Her smile returns, small but warm, and she pulls you into a quick hug, her body soft against yours for a moment before she steps back.

"Get home safe, cutie," she says, her teasing tone creeping back in, though her eyes are still soft. You nod again, slinging your bag over your shoulder, and head for the door, your mind a mess of emotions.

You wake up the next morning, your body still tingling with the memory of last night at Saerom's apartment. You're exhausted but buzzing, barely able to focus as you get ready for work.

You step into the office, the usual hum of chatter and keyboards greeting you.

Your eyes instinctively dart to the marketing corner, where Saerom’s desk sits. She's already there, typing away, looking sharp in a fitted blazer and skirt, her hair swept to one side. As if sensing you, she glances up, her lips curling into a playful, knowing smirk.

It's subtle, just for you, but it hits like a spark, making your face heat up and your cock twitch faintly in your pants. You quickly look away, heart pounding, and hurry to your desk, trying to act normal.

You settle in, pulling out your laptop, but your minds elsewhere. Saerom's smirk lingers in your thoughts, a reminder of her naked body, her moans, her whispered promises.

You steal another glance at her, and she's still watching you, her eyes glinting with mischief before she turns back to her screen, biting her lip.

2PM, you're burned out, your eyes sore from staring at your laptop screen.

You lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples, craving a break. Your gaze drifts to Saerom's desk in the marketing corner, almost instinctively.

She's typing, but as if she feels your stare, she glances up, her eyes locking on yours.

Her lips curl into that familiar playful smirk, and she tilts her head slightly, giving you a subtle nod, a silent invitation to come over.

Your heart skips, a mix of hesitation and curiosity swirling in your chest. You glance around the office, it's busy, no one's paying attention.

Against your better judgment, you stand and walk toward her desk, your pulse quickening.

As you approach, Saerom leans back in her chair, her movements deliberate, "Hi cutie," she shrugs off her blazer, letting it slide down her shoulders, revealing a tight, white blouse that hugs her curves, the top buttons straining slightly against her chest.

The sight makes your mouth dry, your cock start stirring in your pants.

She smirks, noticing your reaction, and pats the space behind her chair., "I'm so tense," she says, her voice low, just for you.

"Be a good boy and massage my shoulders, will you? I need to relax."

You hesitate, glancing around again, but the office hums along, oblivious. You step behind her, your hands hovering before settling on her shoulders.

Her skin is warm through, and you start kneading gently, your fingers working into the tight muscles. She sighs, tilting her head back, her eyes half-closed.

"Mmm, that's nice," she murmurs, her voice soft and sultry.

"Lower, though... here." She guides your hands down, dangerously close to her chest, her blouse dipping slightly to show a hint of cleavage, your fingers brush the tops of her breasts.

She moans quietly, too quiet for anyone else to hear, but it’s enough to make your face burn, "Keep going,” she whispers, arching slightly into your touch.

Your hands tremble, massaging her chest now, feeling the soft give of her breasts under your fingers. She's clearly enjoying it, her breathing heavier, but suddenly she shifts, standing up.

"Sit," she says, her tone firm but teasing, pointing to her chair. You're confused, heart racing, but her commanding gaze leaves no room for argument.

You obey, sinking into her chair, the warm seat still carrying her scent.

She glances around briefly, then drops to her knees, crawling under the desk in one smooth motion.

Your eyes widen, panic mixing with arousal, "Ms. S-Saerom, what-" you start, but she shushes you, her hands already on your belt, unbuckling it with practiced ease.

"Quiet," she whispers, unzipping your jeans and tugging them down just enough to free your cock, already half-hard from the tension, "Let me relax you now."

Before you can protest, her lips wrap around your cock, warm and wet, sucking gently. You gasp, gripping the armrests, your body tensing as her tongue swirls over the tip, tasting the pre-cum already leaking out.

The office noise fades, keyboards, chatter, phones, all drowned out by the wet sounds of her mouth and your ragged breaths. She takes you deeper, her lips sliding down your length, her hand stroking the base, her movements slow but deliberate.

Your cock throbs in her mouth, fully hard now, and you bite your lip to stifle a groan, terrified someone might notice.

Her eyes flick up to meet yours from under the desk, glinting with mischief as she bobs her head, sucking harder, her cheeks hollowing.

Her tongue presses against the underside of your cock, and you feel the pleasure building fast, your hips twitching slightly despite your effort to stay still.

"Fuck, Ms..." you whisper, barely audible, your hands knuckling the chair. She hums around your cock, the vibration sending a jolt, you're barely holding back.

Suddenly you hear the sharp click of heels approaching. Eunbi’s voice cuts through the haze, "Darling? Where's Saerom?" she asks, her tone ligh, standing just on the other side of the desk.

You snap your head up, "Ms. Eunbi! ahh... sh-she's... uh... grabbing coffee," you stammer, your voice shaky, trying to sound casual. "I'm... uh... checking her work. Yeah, she asked me to," you force a tight smile, praying Eunbi doesn't notice how flushed your face.

Saerom keeps sucking, her movements slowing slightly but not stopping, her tongue teasing the tip of your cock.

Eunbi raises an eyebrow, her sharp gaze flicking over you, like she's picking up on something off. "Checking her work, huh?" she says, her lips twitching into a knowing smile, her tone carrying that same playful edge she always has. She steps closer, leaning slightly against the desk, her blazer opens just enough to draw your eye to her curves. "You look... tense. Everything okay, darling?"

You nod quickly, too quickly, your cock twitching in Saerom's mouth as she takes you deeper, her hand stroking faster now, clearly enjoying the risk, "Y-yeah, fine," you manage, your voice cracking slightly.

"Just... focused." Your heart is racing, torn between the fear of getting caught and the overwhelming pleasure of Saerom's lips and tongue working you under the desk.

Eunbi tilts her head, her smile widening, like she's not entirely buying it. "Hmm. Well, tell Saerom I need her for a quick chat when she's back from her coffee run," she says, her voice dripping with amusement.

She lingers for a moment, her eyes scanning you, then turns to walk away, her heels clicking as she heads back to her side of the office. You let out a shaky breath, relief flooding you.

Saerom doesn't let up, her mouth moving faster now, sucking harder, her tongue swirling around the head of your cock. The thrill of almost getting caught pushes you over the edge.

"Fuck, I'm cumming...!” you whisper, barely audible, your body tensing as the pressure snaps. You come hard, your cock pulsing as you spill into her mouth, waves of pleasure crashing through you.

Saerom moans softly, her lips staying locked around you, swallowing every drop as her tongue milks you through the orgasm.

Saerom finally pulls off with a quiet pop, licking her lips as she crawls out from under the desk, her face flushed but smug.

"Good boy," she whispers, wiping the corner of her mouth before standing, smoothing her blouse like nothing happened.

"You handled that well," she teases, her eyes glinting as she sits back in her chair, grabbing her blazer to slip it on.

You're still catching your breath, your cock softening in your open jeans, your mind a mess of panic and pleasure.

"That… that was too close," you mutter, zipping up quickly, your face burning. Saerom just laughs softly, leaning in to whisper,

"Good, she doesn't notice it, though, right?" before turning to her computer, leaving you dazed and wondering how you’re supposed to focus on work now.

Over the next few weeks, Saerom's teasing gets intense. She brushes against you in the hallway, her hand lingering too long, and sends flirty emails that make your cock twitch.

In meetings, she'll flash a bit of cleavage or bite her lip, knowing it drives you crazy.

Once, in the pantry, she "drops" something and bends over, her skirt showing lace panties.

You're a mess, barely keeping up with work, torn between wanting her and feeling like you're losing control.

Her texts come late at night "Miss you, cutie" or "Come over?" and if you don't reply fast, she pouts, making you feel guilty, her words from that night about not turning away echoing in your mind, her promise to stay close, and a quiet feeling that this story with her isn't over yet.

616 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 14 days ago

Text

Alive (tripleS Seoyeon)

15k words

—————

“For the last time,” huffs Seoyeon, tone playful but showing a tinge of disdain toward her friends, bothered by their insistence. Raising her voice through the ear-thumping club music, she says, “I’m not interested.”

“Oh come on, don’t be so cold.” Yooyeon replies, bumping shoulder to shoulder, poking at her sternness. “You haven’t gone out with us once the entire time. We’re headed back to Korea tomorrow, mind you. We don’t know when we’ll have another opportunity to spend time like this together.”

“Okay, and what about it? Someone has to be the adult around here.” Seoyeon remains uptight, crossing her arms and shaking her head. If not for the neon lights gleaming throughout the place, her face would be seen lit bright red with rage. “I’m down to follow you around and maybe have a drink or two, but please leave me out of your bullshit.”

“Bullshit? You mean us flirting with the guys here?” Xinyu points at one such man, in a ragged business suit, clearly a few bottles in and on the verge of falling over. “They won’t remember a damn thing when they wake up.”

“And what if they do remember? What about the rest of us then? Have you considered what you’re doing can harm our career, hell our personal lives?”

“Hasn’t done anything, so I think we’re good,” Xinyu fires back, as if it were a gotcha moment. Drinking another round to prove her point, she adds, “Look, I’m saying you should have fun every now and then. A little party never killed nobody, after all.”

“I don’t think that saying is true these days,” replies Seoyeon, tilting her head, unconvinced. She rises from her seat to leave, unwilling to hear any more of her friends’ yapping. “Like I said, I’m not interested. Just call when you need me to take you home.”

As she walks away from her two friends, disappearing into the energetic crowd, Xinyu and Yooyeon stare at each other, shrugging their shoulders before returning to the club’s backrooms.

—————

“Look, for the last time, I’m not interested,” you tell your friend, looking left and right. Clubs have never been your favorite place nor have parties been your favorite pastime. Nevertheless, you’re still accompanying a few workmates there because of bullshit office culture and so-called teambuilding. For a weekday, the energy is surprisingly electric. “I don’t mind having one drink, but I’d rather be home right now over anything, so—”

“Dude, this is where all the rich people and celebrities hang out. No way on earth you’re not going,” your friend tells you, as if the last thing you wanted was to share the same space with more men and women in the upper tax bracket when you’re not even making a tenth of their monthly income. Nevermind the fact that most of you unceremoniously decided on this excursion at the eleventh hour—you’re all still in your office attire, evidently worn out and in need of a laundry service. “I mean, there are some gachas nearby, since you seem to like them a lot—”

“Hey. I haven’t bought a gacha in two weeks!” you fire back, but your reply is drowned out in a sea of colleague laughs and party music.

You can only shake your head and sigh, taking an embarrassing defeat on your character.

As you scan your surroundings, you can’t help but recognize that you’d fit right in with all the groggy strangers and passed out drunkards filling out the seats and the corners of the club. Your sleep-deprived brain might as well be a few rounds in with how overworked and pushed it has been with all the overtimes, assignments, and take-home work you’d been receiving. All that for the bare minimum with no consideration for promotion nor any hints indicating such. But to be fair, you’d only been around for a handful of months; most of your peers have found their careers stuck for up to years.

And based on some of the other salarymen you’ve seen knocked unconscious, they seemingly feel the same way. So you can conclude that it’s only right that you should drink your worries and sorrows away, at least for tonight.

It doesn’t take long for jovial merrymaking and intoxication to set in. You swear that your coworkers emptied out two buckets full of alcohol bottles in mere minutes, with plenty of liquor in great abundance to pass around. It gets to a point where you have to take at least one.

And so you do—in tiny, barely recognizable sips to blend in.

Some of your colleagues are singing their hearts out, others end up on the dance floor, but most fall head first onto the table, completely inebriated. Their minds filled with poison, your cue to weasel out of there.

Making your way through the crowd, unsure of where the entrance and exit was, you head down some steps, uncaringly bumping every person that passes by you and vice versa. You’re one bad move away from an incident. It could be anyone.

It ends up catching up to you.

“Oh!” A frantic shout rips through your ears and to everyone nearby, sending you careening onto the floor—except it’s your body crouching by impulse. Glancing to your side, a phone falls onto the stairsteps with a not so audible thump. Your natural instinct is to grab it, while the party goes on without a care.

The person turns around and immediately realizes what’s happened. Reaching out her hand, it intertwines with yours. Your eyes meet. An air of familiarity flows between you two. It’s a slow-motion, time-freezing scene straight out of any cliche drama—the ones you’d make fun of for being too unrealistic and predictable. And now, you’re put in that exact same scenario. Not a soul could have written your story any better.

Looking into her eyes, you’re taken back to not that long ago, at the tail end of a busy day like this one:

—————

As the clock struck the top of the hour before midnight, a command blared through the subway station speakers, telling all passengers that there’s only 30 minutes remaining before all services will come to an end. And yet, even this late, every terminal is brimming with life.

All the more reason to rush through the crowd and head home. Another overtime shift in the books and you’re running on fumes to get back to your apartment. You’re dead set on crashing as soon as you hit the bed or the couch, whichever is the first you see.

You barely make it, narrowly entering the train mere seconds before the doors close. Before you’re forced to stay the night in some convenience store to get some semblance of sleep.

Inside, the carriage is filled with people from all walks of life, from single parents and families with their children, businessmen from salarymen to executives, to partygoers going club hopping. The city never sleeps. Like everyone else, you occupy yourself in your own earphones and music to get by until you reach your stop.

Shuffling your way out the train and down the steps, you recall this exact moment. It should have been an afterthought, but you still remember everything vividly: a bump—a borderline tackle—that sends you tripping down the stairs. No wonder that scream sounded so familiar.

Instead of a phone, it's a patchwork of documents and paperwork flying in every direction. The girl frantically grabs for whatever she can retrieve while you recover the rest. She’s quite apologetic doing so, repeatedly saying ‘Sorry’ in the tiniest voice imaginable, that you overlook how she’s got all your files mixed up with no cohesion or continuity whatsoever.

“God, I’m so—so—sorry—” she mutters, clutching the last of your paper before straightening the pile she collected and handing them back to you. Bowing her head, she follows with: “I really am sorry. I was in such a rush to get home and—”

But you never hear the rest of it, because you promptly take the papers back and hurry out of there.

—————

Deja vu is working overtime.

Your fingers are slowly pointing at each other, mouths slowly gaping, eyes also widening, stunned speechless. The girl is first to speak:

“It’s you again.”

And to be quite honest, you don’t have a response to that.

“You’re the guy I ran into at the train station last week,” she recalls, her eyes widening more, her shocked expression turning into a look of genuine delight, like you’re distant friends reconnecting after a long time apart: “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Glancing left and right, you scramble for a quick answer. It comes out awkward: “Y--yeah. Me neither. That’s crazy.”

“Small world, huh?” she quips, quickly grabbing her phone off the floor and pocketing it. “Didn’t I also see you the morning after?”

“Morning after?” you ask, puzzled by what seems to be a second previous encounter.

“Yeah. I was going to the convenience store for some coffee and I saw you across the street,” she says, grinning from ear to ear. “You were still wearing the same suit you wore the night before.”

Knowing that you did, in fact, crash onto the couch once you got home and went to work the next day without changing clothes proves to be embarrassing. You get completely flustered. What a spectacular first impression.

“I—yeah, I—I guess I did,” you reply, scratching your head, unable to look her directly in the eye in light of this revelation. You can only chalk it up to one thing. “Work.”

The girl laughs, covering her mouth. “Can relate.”

“So,” you swallow your throat, tugging on the collar of your shirt. Feeling sweat trickle down your face and new tension brewing. “What brings you here?”

“Oh, some friends,” she remarks, rolling her eyes seemingly at the thought of them. “I was about to leave for some fresh air. And you?”

You stifle your laugh, toothily smiling, hoping you’re not turning her away. She looks at you intently, like you have something important. “Oh, funny. I was gonna say friends, too, if coworkers qualify as friends.”

“Really now?” She scans you from head to toe and recognizes that you’re one of those men. “I’m not surprised. My friends dragged me here as well. I’m guessing you didn’t wanna come along too?”

Your eyes widen at how quick she is at reading you. Like she’s known you for so long. “Wait, how’d you—”

“I guess we share quite a lot of things, huh?” she comments, beaming. The realization hits her: it’s destiny, it’s fate. “Gosh, it does really feel like we’re meant to cross paths.”

“Now that you’ve said it, you might be right.”

The girl looks around, and a realization dawns on her: that you’ve been making casual conversation on some narrow stairs, unknowingly being a mild inconvenience to partygoers. It’s only afterward she notices the growing pileup of disgruntled people cutting past, cursing you both out for indirectly acting as human roadblocks.

Glancing up the stairs, she remarks, “I think we should take this outside, you know, so we can hear each other better. My ears are hurting.”

—————

Despite reacquainting yourself with fresh air, your ears are still reeling in aftershocks from deafening party music.

Across the street, from the club, lies a humble cafe serving customers 24/7. Despite the music being so loud that you can still hear it from behind these walls, the place is empty and solemn. Evidently most people here prefer their drinks with alcohol, not coffee. And looking at the girl, you do seem to share something common: that you’re both fishes out of water, living in a way that your peers might describe as ‘foreign’ and ‘weird.’

She’s on her phone, sighing as she fires back text after text to what seems to be her friends, annoyed about being bothered. Occasionally shooting you a meek, apologetic smile. You can make out her name even through the little font on the screen; ’Seoyeon-unnie, where did u go?’ reads one of the messages, and she catches on right as you’re reading them, concealing it, her face turning red and cheeks puffing.

“You’re not from around here?” you ask, genuinely curious. She’s blended in with the locals effortlessly.

“Afraid not,” she tells you, rapidly mashing through her phone before putting it away. Sipping on her drink, her eyes fixate on you, reciprocating interest. She inhales deeply, adding: “We’re here on a scheduled trip, so we’ll be leaving soon. Don’t know when we’ll come back.”

If this is her attempt to dissuade you from developing this little date into something more, then she’s failed. She has a natural glow around her, a magnetic pull that has you hooked. Even when she sounds direct, she’s as gentle as a candle’s flame. You can imagine the stars revolving around her; she’s that charming.

“That’s unfortunate,” you reply, frowning, hoping to earn some sympathy points from Seoyeon.

She doesn’t really notice, or sees through your act. Either way, she doesn’t react. “Yep,” she sighs, stirring the straw on her drink, glancing down on the table’s surface. “Tonight’s actually our last night before we leave tomorrow, so we went out. Not a party animal, so—”

She should have probably led with that. Hearing that this encounter will be as brief as your previous ones rips through your hopes and dreams like a gun shot straight through your heart.

It leaves you speechless for a moment. Unable to take even a little sip of your own drink too.

And maybe it’s better off this way. Cherish the brief time you have before you part ways again.

“Hey, are you alright?” Seoyeon asks, snapping you from your daze.

Shaking your head loose, you adamantly lie. “Y-yeah. I’m good.”

She’s leaning her head forward, staring into your eyes intently. Something appears off. “I don’t think so.”

Fucking hell. Seoyeon’s smarter than you thought.

She pulls the rug from underneath, catching you further off-guard.

“Let me guess: work, huh?”

It’s the perfect alibi and escape. There’s some truth behind your excuse to stand on. Countless hours of a thankless job, being forced out of your comfort zone by peers that you hardly know and vice versa, when all you want is to separate your work life and personal time. Clock in, clock out.

“Yeah. Something like that. I don’t really drink; I wanna go home, but you know—”

“I understand. I mean, I’m not saying my job is as bad, but the hours eventually catch up and weigh down on you. I don’t sit behind a desk in an office for hours everyday, like you do, but the feeling is mutual.”

“Way to kick a man when he’s down,” is your reply, throwing a light jab at what appears to be a misguided attempt at empathizing. She lost you when she said she doesn’t work office hours.

Seoyeon seems to take offense to it, shooting a pout, firing a glare in your direction. “I didn’t mean to make your life sound boring and monotonous. If anything, I’ve got it worse—well, we do.”

You remain silent. Suspect.

“Imagine getting up at two in the morning, putting on makeup, being in front of cameras at nearly every waking moment, having to put on your best behavior, no matter how tired you are. Having to sing and dance the same song a dozen times without making a mistake. And when the day is over, you only have 30 minutes of sleep before you do it all over again. Rinse and repeat.”

A dour feeling hits you right in the gut. Not even you get overworked this terribly, even if your company’s policies are borderline unethical.

“Well—shit,” is your only response to quite the expository dump.

“Sometimes I wonder if this is even worthwhile,” she adds, pausing to take a prolonged drink. “I mean, I’m not alone; the responsibility is on all of us to look out for one another, but I wonder if they share the same feelings as me.”

Tilting your head, you reply, “Pretty sure they’re just as good as hiding it as you are. I mean—there’s a reason why my coworkers keep asking me to drink with them almost every other day.”

“I guess, but—someone has to be the levelheaded one in our group,” she says, her brows furrowing, reminding herself of the responsibility. “As much as we want to let loose, we still have to be careful. Getting drunk can be the worst sometimes.”

“True.”

Seoyeon has already emptied her drink while yours is still halfway unfinished. She looks directly into your eyes, reaching out her hand across the table, which you instinctively hold. Despite the little time you’ve spent together, your interactions mostly a string of mere coincidences, you feel a sense of warmth and familiarity with her that only close friends share.

“Sorry for going on a tangent like that,” she says, gently caressing your hand beneath hers, resting her head on the table, her gaze staring out the window, visibly looking tired and defeated. “I get really stressed out sometimes, and I can’t show weakness in front of anyone. I’m just—” she abruptly pauses, huffing, sighing wistfully. “I’m not ready to get back out there.”

Admittedly, you hardly know her, nor will you ever get a chance to, if she’s to be believed, but you can’t let the opportunity slip away for good. There’s no way she’s confiding this much of herself in some random stranger.

“Well, we can still stay in touch, for when you leave,” you tell her, drawing her attention. “Unless you don’t wanna exchange numbers with a guy you just met properly for the first time.”

She pauses, takes a moment to quietly chuckle, before looking up at you, grinning. “Technically, we already met twice. Just not in a conventional way.”

“Still won’t let me live that down, huh?” you remark, annoyed, much to her amusement. Meanwhile, she’s straight up laughing.

“I don’t know. I think it’s cute, actually,” is her reply, her ear to ear smile and upbeat expression infectious. “Shows that you’re committed.”

“Or that my workplace has no qualms about overworking their employees to death, but sure. Committed.”

“Hey, you’re not the only one overworked here, like I said.” Seoyeon raises her arms defensively, feigning innocence. “I thought we were on the same page.”

“You’re making me look like I enjoy it.”

“Never said you did. Did you not listen to me?”

“I heard you—I just don’t see it that way, honestly.”

“Then stop being an uptight dick about and move on.”

“You won’t let me.”

“Are you this insufferable with your coworkers?” Seoyeon mocks, resting her chin on her palm, eyes gleaming with mischief.

You lean back, feigning offense. "Only when they drag me to clubs late at night on a Wednesday." She laughs—a bright, clear sound that cuts through the cafe’s drowsy hum. "Fair. But you’re bearable. Surprisingly."

"Wow. High praise," you deadpan, swirling the ice in your half-finished drink. A comfortable silence settles, the kind that feels earned. Her thumb traces idle circles on the tabletop, and you notice the chipped polish on her nails. The neon glow from the club across the street paints her face in fleeting streaks of flashing colors.

Seoyeon sighs, the playful edge softening. "This was—nice," She glances at her phone lighting up again. Another ignored message. "I should probably face the music. Literally."

The neon glow from the club across the street pulses through the café windows, painting alternating stripes of violet and gold across her cheekbones. You watch as she absently traces the rim of her empty glass, the ice long since melted into a sad, diluted puddle. There's a quiet intimacy in the way the condensation clings to her fingertips, in the way she hesitates before finally pulling her hand away.

"You don't have to go back yet." The words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

She looks up, one eyebrow arched. "Oh? And what exactly would we do instead?" There's a challenge in her voice, but beneath it—something softer. Something hopeful.

Outside, the bass from the club thrums through the pavement, vibrating up through the soles of your shoes. A group of drunk salarymen stumbles past the window, their laughter sharp and raucous in an otherwise quiet street. The contrast is jarring; the chaotic energy of the night pressing in closely against this fragile bubble you've created.

"I don't know," you admit. "Walk. Talk. Find somewhere that doesn't smell like stale beer and poor decisions."

A slow smile spreads across her face. "You had me at 'doesn't smell like stale beer.'" She stands abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. "But if we're doing this, we're doing it properly."

Before you can respond, she's shrugging out of her jacket and tossing it to you. "Put this on."

"Why—"

"Because," she interrupts, already pulling her hair into a messy bun, "if anyone recognizes me, I'd rather they think I'm some random girl out with her—" She trails off, gesturing vaguely at you.

"Ugly salaryman boyfriend?" you supply dryly.

She barks out a laugh. "I was going to say 'tragically overworked acquaintance,' but sure. Let's go with that."

The jacket is too small around the shoulder, the fabric still warm from her body heat. It smells faintly of her perfume—something floral and expensive, undercut with the sharp tang of citrus.

"You look ridiculous," she informs you playfully, stepping out into the night.

The cool air hits your face like a slap, sharp and bracing. Seoyeon tilts her head back, inhaling deeply as the city lights reflect in her eyes. For a moment, she stands there, perfectly still, as if savoring the simple act of breathing.

"Where to?" you ask.

She turns, and the smile she gives you is different now. Less guarded, more alive.

"Let's get lost."

—————

The alleyways twist and turn like a maze, the sounds of the main streets fading into a distant hum. Here, the air smells of frying oil and damp concrete, of laundry hung out to dry on cramped balconies overhead. Seoyeon walks half a step ahead of you, her fingers trailing along the graffiti-covered walls as if reading some secret braille only she can understand.

"You know," she says suddenly, "I used to do this all the time as a trainee. Just—walk. No destination. No manager breathing down my neck."

A cat darts across your path, its eyes gleaming in the dim light. Seoyeon crouches down, making soft clicking noises with her tongue. To your surprise, the creature actually approaches, butting its head against her outstretched hand.

"Traitor," you mutter.

She grins up at you. "Animals love me. It's my one true talent."

"What, and the whole singing-dancing-being-ridiculously-good-looking thing is a happy accident?"

The words are out before you can stop them, too honest by half. Seoyeon goes very still, her fingers pausing mid-scratch. The cat, sensing the shift, slinks away into the shadows.

"Sorry," you start, but she shakes her head.

"Don't be." She stands, brushing invisible dirt from her jeans. "It's just—strange. Hearing someone say that like it's a fact. Not a PR talking point."

There's a rawness to her voice that makes your chest ache. You want to reach out—to bridge the gap between you—but the moment stretches, fragile and uncertain.

A distant siren cuts through the silence. Seoyeon blinks, as if waking from a dream.

"Come on," she says, nodding toward a flickering convenience store sign at the end of the long, narrow alley. “I'll buy you a drink that doesn't taste like regret."

—————

It’s half-past midnight. The air inside Room 408 hangs thick with ghosts of cheap perfume and spilled beer. Neon lights pulse across soundproof walls as Seoyeon kneels on the carpet, her fingers hovering over the touchscreen. The menu glows unnaturally bright in the dimness, a constellation of song titles scrolling into infinity.

“New rule,” she says, not looking up. “If you pick anything released before 2010, you automatically lose.”

You sink onto the pleather couch beside her. The material groans, releasing a puff of dust that dances in the projector’s beam. “That eliminates eighty percent of good music.”

“Your definition of ‘good’ is suspect.” She finally meets your eyes, a challenge in the tilt of her chin. “We’re playing ‘Answer Me.’

“The kids’ game?”

“Adapted.” She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The motion is quick, practiced. “I ask a question. You answer while staring at the ceiling. If you blink, you sing first. If I blink, then I do.”

“What’s the question?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She rises, standing before you. The shift alters the room’s gravity; suddenly, the space feels smaller, charged. The thump of bass from next door vibrates through the floor.

“Ready?”

You nod, leaning back. The ceiling tiles are water-stained, patterned like old tea leaves.

Seoyeon’s voice drops to a murmur, cutting through the muffled chaos beyond the door. “What did you wish for at the train station? That night we collided.”

Your breath hitches, heart pumps erratically, endlessly going through a million probable answers.

“A promotion.”

She doesn’t move. “Liar.”

“How would you—?”

“You blinked.” Triumph curls her lips. “Twice.”

You scowl, your brows furrowing. “Fine. I wished I had asked for your number when you apologized.”

Silence. The neon shifts from blue to violet, catching the startled dilation of her pupils. Her throat moves as she swallows.

“My turn,” she says, too quickly.

You stand, closing the distance. Her shoulder brushes your chest. “Rules are rules. You blinked.”

“I did not!”

“Your left eye. At ‘apologized.’

She glares, but it lacks heat. “Cheap shot.”

You chuckle.“Sing.”

Indignantly turning away from you, she complies.

She picks the song almost a little too fast. ‘Into the New World’ by Girls’ Generation flashes on the screen. A classic. A rite of passage for every female aspirant looking to get into the industry.

The opening notes shimmer, crystalline and familiar. She takes the mic like a weapon, her knuckles clenched, white.

“You know this one?” she asks, back still turned.

“Who doesn’t?”

“Right.” A bitter edge. “National anthem.”

When she faces you, the transformation is jarring. Her posture straightens, shoulders pulling back. Chin lifted. Even her breathing changes: measured, controlled. The girl who tripped on alley cobblestones is gone. In her place: a performer. A born to be idol.

Her voice is clean, technically sound—every note placed with surgical precision. But it’s hollow. A perfect mannequin singing a perfect replica of joy.

Halfway through, she stumbles. Not on the notes, but on the choreography. Her hand rises automatically for a fanchant that isn’t there, then aborts the motion, fingers curling into her palm. She doesn’t look at you. A glance here and there, but otherwise, you’re nowhere in sight.

The final chorus fades. The screen flashes 99.7%. Artificial applause crackles from the speakers. She smiles naturally as if she performs for thousands, not for one man.

She drops the mic onto the couch. It bounces, hurling toward your knee.

“Your turn,” she says, her voice tight.

You don't pick a song. Not right away.

“My question now.” You hold her gaze. “What did you wish for? That morning you saw me in this same suit.”

The air conditioner whirs. A drop of condensation slides down a beer can, pooling on the table.

Seoyeon looks down at her hands, deep in thought. A moment that could be its own eternity. She holds her breath, before her lips curl into tangible words: “That you’d look up.”

It barely registers in your head.

“—What?”

“At the convenience store. You were staring at your shoes. I wished you’d look up so I could wave. Say sorry properly for the stairs.” She picks at a thread on the couch. “Stupid, right?”

You step forward. The scent of her shampoo cuts through the stale air—pear blossoms and salt. “Why didn’t you?”

“You seemed—” She searches your face, blinking slowly. “Like you carried something heavy. I didn’t want to add to it.”

The admission hangs between you both. Raw. Unrehearsed.

“Just sing,” she whispers, her voice shrinking, body lightly jittering. “Please.”

Turning around, you scroll past Hotel California, then Gee, eventually landing on Spring Day.

Seoyeon’s breath hitches. “That’s—”

“Yeah.”

The piano intro spills into the room, slow as honey. You don't bother to face the screen. Don’t need to. You watch her instead, keenly observing the way her lashes lower at the first line, how she knots her fingers together.

Your voice cracks on the high note. Not idol-perfect. Human. Rough with the weight of overtime shifts and convenience store dinners and wishing for things you couldn’t name.

Seoyeon doesn’t move. But when the bridge begins, her lips shape the words silently. A secret shared.

On the final chorus, your voice breaks entirely again. When the song ends, the screen flashes 72.1%. ‘Better luck next time’ flashes brightly on the screen, as if it were a divine message from some higher power. You don't care in the slightest. At least you did your best, and you have no regrets.

Silence floods the room, for real this time. No fake applause.

Seoyeon reaches out. Her fingertips graze the back of your hand: feather-light, electric.

“You blinked,” she says, soft as the neon bleeding through the curtains. “During the second verse.”

“I know.”

“So I win.”

“Do you?”

Her thumb brushes your knuckle. A tremor runs through her. “No.”

—————

The air in Room 408 hums, thick with the bass bleeding through the walls and the raw scrape of your own voice battling the final lines of Fix You. Hours have dissolved into a blur of flickering lyrics, shared laughter that rattles cheap speakers, and the warm, drowsy haze of cheap drinks. Empty beer cans and soju bottles gleam like fallen soldiers under the relentless neon pulse, cycling across Seoyeon’s face as she watches you, chin propped on her hand, a soft, unfocused smile playing on her lips.

Your voice, which was never strong to begin with, has been steadily ground down by belting out everything from Bon Jovi to Gee. It’s a ragged thing now, tearing on the high notes of Iris, collapsing into a cough that bends you double, one hand braced against the sticky tabletop. You try to push through, clinging to the mic like a lifeline to no avail. The sound you make is pure gravel, like a wounded animal rasping against the soaring melody still pouring from the speakers.

"Okay, okay! Stop!" Seoyeon’s laugh cuts through the noise, warm and slightly breathless. She’s on her knees beside you in an instant, her hand landing firmly over yours on the mic. Her touch is electric, sending a jolt through the pleasant fog of alcohol and shared exhaustion. "You sound like you’re gargling rocks. Give it!"

She tugs gently, but you cling on, stubbornly trying to croak out the next line. It’s truly pitiful. Painful, even.

"Seriously!" she insists, her laughter fading into genuine concern. She leans in closer, her other hand landing on your shoulder. Her face is inches away, the neon catching the flecks of gold in her wide, amused eyes. "You’re going to ruin your throat forever. Stop." There’s surprising strength in her grip as she pries away the mic from your weakened fingers. She tosses it carelessly onto the couch beside her, the clatter loud in the sudden vacuum left by the abruptly silenced backing track.

Silence crashes down, dense and immediate. It amplifies everything else: the frantic thudding of your own pulse in your ears, the soft, quick rhythm of Seoyeon’s breathing so close to your face, the faint, sweet scent of pear blossoms and alcohol clinging to her skin and hair. Neon washes over her; blue highlights the curve of her cheekbone, red stains her parted lips, green catches the sudden intensity in her gaze. She’s not laughing anymore. Just—looking. Scanning your face.

Her hand is still on your shoulder—a warm, grounding weight. You don’t pull away; neither does she. The air crackles, thick with the unspoken weight of the hours spent here, the confessions whispered between songs, the shared cynicism about work and life, the unexpected comfort found in mutual exhaustion. The ridiculousness of your dying-frog impression evaporates, replaced by something else entirely. Something fragile, terrifyingly potent, and charged with the raw intimacy of the dying night.

You see the shift in her eyes, a softening, a question forming in the slight tilt of her head. Your own gaze drops to her lips, then flickers back up, held captive. The scant distance between you feels like an impossible chasm and a magnetic pull all at once. The noise of Shibuya, the weight of her impending flight, the looming dawn—it all recedes, muffled by the soundproofed walls and the sudden, profound quiet binding you together. You lean in, your movement barely a fraction. An unconscious yielding to gravity. Her breath catches a tiny, audible hitch. Her eyes widen slightly, dark pools reflecting the fractured light, but she doesn’t retreat. Her fingers flex slightly on your shoulder, not pushing away, not pulling closer. Just holding. Waiting.

Her face is but a hair away. You can see the faint smudge of eyeliner beneath her lower lashes, the almost invisible scar just above her left eyebrow, the delicate flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat. The scent of her is intoxicating—floral, malty, and something uniquely, essentially her. The world narrows to the point where your noses might brush, where shared breath mingles in the charged space between your lips. Her eyelids start to drift shut, long lashes casting feathery shadows on her cheeks, a silent surrender, an unspoken invitation held in that fragile darkness. Your own eyes begin to close, the chaotic neon dissolving into warm anticipation, the space between you measured in heartbeats. You lean in further, the distance collapsing into millimeters, the world reduced to the scent of her and the roaring silence—

The door crashes open with a force that rattles the entire booth.

"Unnie! There you are! We were wondering where you—" A woman’s voice, shrill and triumphant, cuts through the intimate silence like shattering glass. It dies instantly, choked off into a stunned gasp.

You jerk back as if electrocuted, your heart pounding unceasingly against your ribs. Seoyeon recoils violently, snatching her hand from your shoulder and scrambling backwards on her knees until she bumps the low table, sending an empty can clattering to the floor. Her eyes, wide and dilated a moment ago, are now huge with pure, unadulterated panic. Not embarrassment, but fear.

Xinyu and Yooyeon stand frozen in the doorway, silhouetted by the harsh fluorescent glare of the corridor. Their faces, flushed with alcohol and the thrill of the hunt, morph from gleeful excitement to slack-jawed disbelief. Xinyu’s mouth hangs open, her finger still raised in a pointing gesture that now feels accusatory. Yooyeon’s sharp eyes dart rapidly: from Seoyeon’s flushed face and dishevelled hair, to your proximity, to the scattering of empty beer cans, the discarded mics, and finally, landing pointedly on her jacket shared between your shoulders. Her expression hardens, a flicker of cold betrayal sharpening her features into something diabolical.

The silence is absolute, heavier and more suffocating than before. The only sound is the relentless, cheerful thump of an uncaring, soulless pop song bleeding from the room next door.

Seoyeon finds her voice first, thin and strained. "Xinyu. Yooyeon. What are you—"

"We’ve been looking everywhere for you!" Xinyu explodes, stumbling into the room, her voice regaining volume, thick with indignation and cheap soju. "Ignoring our calls! Texts! We thought you got lost! Or mugged! Or worse!" Her gaze sweeps over you again, lingering with undisguised disgust on the jacket, now spread on the couch after falling away. "And this? This is where you vanished to? Cozied up in a karaoke booth?" She spits the word like it’s filthy, her finger pointed at you like you’re dangerous. "With—him?"

The pronoun is a weapon. A curse. A byword.

Yooyeon steps in beside Xinyu, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her voice is lower, colder, cutting through Xinyu’s drunken hysteria. "Manager-nim has called eight times, Seoyeon. Eight. He’s downstairs in the lobby. Right. Now." Her icy gaze flicks over to you, then back to Seoyeon, heavy with accusation. "Care to explain? Or were you too busy?"

Seoyeon flinches as if she were physically struck. Color drains quickly from her face, leaving her pale and suddenly fragile looking. The vibrant, almost luminous girl from moments ago is gone, replaced by a cornered idol, defenses visibly crumbling. She pushes herself shakily to her feet. "I—I just needed air. Somewhere quiet. We—we ran into each other. We were—talking. Singing." The lie is paper-thin, pathetic against the evidence littering the room and the intimacy they had shattered.

"Talking?" scoffs Xinyu, stepping further into the cramped space, invading it with her presence and the smell of stale cocktails. She gestures wildly at the scene: the beers, the mics, the close proximity. "In a private karaoke booth? At 2:00 AM? Looking like that?" She waves a hand dismissively at Seoyeon’s messy bun and slightly smudged lip tint. "Singing? Is that what they call it now?"

"It’s not what you think," Seoyeon insists, her voice gaining a desperate edge. She takes a step towards her friends, but Yooyeon’s glacial stare stops her cold.

"Funny," mocks Yooyeon, her voice dangerously quiet. She takes a deliberate step forward, her eyes locked on Seoyeon’s. "That’s exactly what it looks like. Looks like you ditched us. Ditched all of us. After all that righteous indignation earlier." She lets the words hang, sharp as knives.

Seoyeon swallows hard, looking worse by the second, evidently guilty. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don’t play dumb," Xinyu cuts in, her voice rising again. She steps right up to Seoyeon, jabbing a finger near her shoulder. "Remember? Back at the club? ‘I’m not interested.’ ‘Leave me out of your bullshit.’ ‘Someone has to be the adult!’" Xinyu’s mimicry is viciously accurate, laced with venom. "You looked down your nose at us for wanting to have a little fun, for maybe flirting with some harmless, wasted salarymen." She spits the last word, her eyes flicking contemptuously towards you. "And then you sneak off to do what? Exactly the same thing? But oh, it’s different when you do it, right? Because you’re the responsible one? Because your taste in men is so much better?"

The accusation lands like a wicked blow. Seoyeon’s face crumples for a split second before she forces the idol mask back on, but it’s deeply cracked. Her hands, clenched at her sides, tremble slightly. You see the shame flood her eyes, hot and bright, before she looks down at the garish carpet.

"It’s not the same," Seoyeon whispers, the protest weak, barely audible.

"Isn’t it?" Yooyeon presses, her voice blisteringly cold, simmering with a deeper hurt. "You judged us, Seoyeon. You called it bullshit. You acted like you were above it. And now here you are, hiding away, drinking," she gestures at the cans, "getting cozy with some random office drone you bumped into on the subway. What’s the difference? Because he looks a little more pathetic than the ones we were talking to? Because you feel sorry for him?"

Each word is a lash on her back and her heart. Seoyeon flinches with every syllable. The hypocrisy laid bare is brutal, undeniable. The jacket you’ve gripped with your fingers feels suddenly heavy, suffocating, a symbol of a critical lapse in judgment. You want to speak, to defend her, to deflect, but the words choke in your raw throat. You’re paralyzed, a spectator to her public flaying.

"We were worried," Yooyeon continues, the ice cracking slightly to reveal genuine anger. "We were looking for you. We thought something happened. But you were—here. Doing exactly what you scolded us for. Only sneakier."

Xinyu snorts derisively. "Yeah, real adult behavior."

Seoyeon says nothing. Her shoulders are hunched, her head bowed. The vibrant spark that animated her while singing, while arguing, while laughing with you, is utterly extinguished. She looks small, defeated, drowning in the harsh light and her friends’ cruel judgment.

Yooyeon lets the silence stretch, thick with condemnation. Finally, she sighs, a sharp, dismissive sound. "Whatever. Manager-nim is waiting downstairs. We’re leaving in five hours. Get your things. Now."

It’s not a request. It’s an order.

Xinyu grabs Seoyeon’s discarded wallet from the floor. "Unbelievable," she mutters again, loud enough to carry, shaking her head as she turns towards the door. "Just—unbelievable."

Seoyeon doesn’t look at you, nor does she look at her friends. She turns mechanically, her movements stiff, robotic. She walks towards the door, shoulders slumped, head still down. As she passes Yooyeon, the taller girl grabs her elbow, not roughly, but with firm, impersonal efficiency, steering her out into the harsh corridor light.

Yooyeon pauses in the doorway, turning back. Her gaze sweeps over the wreckage of the booth—the cans, the couch, the abandoned mics—until it finally lands on you, still frozen on the couch. Her expression is unreadable, a mix of disdain and something colder, more calculating. "Stay away from her," she commands, her voice flat, final. "You’ve caused enough trouble."

Moments later, they’re gone, pulling the door shut behind you with a soft, definitive click.

—————

Silence. Not the warm, charged quietness of moments before, but a hollow, echoing void. Once again, you’re all alone. The relentless neon continues its mindless cycle—red, blue, green—flashing idiotically over the empty couch, the scattered cans, and the silent microphones. Her jacket now hangs over your shoulders, the scent of pear blossoms now sickly sweet, a cloying reminder of an intimacy violently ripped away. The phantom warmth of her hand on your shoulder lingers, a faint touch against the sudden, profound chill settling into your bones. This karaoke booth, previously a sanctuary, a pocket universe, now feels like a desolate crime scene. The taste of cheap beer persisting in your mouth has turned into ash. The city outside, hurling relentlessly towards dawn, feels vast, indifferent, impossibly cold. The space where her lips almost met yours is a vacuum, sucking all the air from your lungs.

You sink back against the groaning pleather of the couch. Deathly silence presses in, broken only by the relentless, mocking, cheerful beat bleeding through the wall from the next room, a grotesque soundtrack to your shattered intimacy. The echo of Xinyu’s mocking words—’Because you feel sorry for him?’—reverberates in the hollow space, sharp and corrosive, scathing.

You can only stay here for long before it feels like a prison sentence. A crime for breaking from a predetermined path. A crime against normalcy.

The click of the karaoke door shutting behind you echoes with unnatural finality in the suddenly oppressive hallway. The cheap, overloud music from surrounding booths feels like a physical assault after the hollow silence you left behind. You’re adrift, unmoored, with Seoyeon’s jacket still draped awkwardly over your shoulders like borrowed skin. The scent of pear blossoms and lager clings to the otherwise soft fabric, a cruel, intoxicating reminder that feels invasive now, tainted by Xinyu’s sneer and Yooyeon’s glacial dismissal.

You walk. The corridor stretches, gaudy and endless, each numbered door leaking its own brand of musical chaos. The sticky linoleum tugs at your soles. You don’t look back at Room 408. That booth, as far as you’re concerned, is tainted and cursed. You wouldn’t wish it on anyone, even your worst enemy. Elsewhere, the lobby is a blur of overtly bright lights and the tired, vacant stare of the night attendant. The automatic doors hiss open, releasing you into the pre-dawn chill of Shibuya.

The city breathes differently now. The frantic, electric pulse has dulled to a weary, dead thrum. The crowds have thinned, leaving behind stragglers—stumbling groups clinging to each other, lone figures hailing cabs with the desperate focus of the profoundly exhausted. Neon signs still scream into the fading darkness, but their messages feel hollow, advertisements for a party that’s already moved on. The air is cool, damp, smelling of exhaust, stale beer and litter. It washes over your face, a feeble attempt to clear the fog of cheap drink, raw emotion, and the phantom sensation of Seoyeon’s breath so close to yours.

You keep walking, directionless for a block, her jacket heavy on your shoulders, every step dragging your feet. The memory of her cowardly flinch, the shame flooding her eyes under her friends’ assault, replays in your mind on a loop:

"Because you feel sorry for him?"

The words scrape like sandpaper against your raw throat. You shrug the jacket off, clutching it bunched in your fist instead of wearing it. The pear blossom scent is stronger now, released by the movement, a bittersweet assault.

A vacant taxi crawls past, its roof light a beacon. You raise a hand, the motion muscle memory. It pulls over, the tires whispering on the slightly worn asphalt. Opening the rear door, the vinyl seat feels warm against your legs. The interior smells faintly of pine air freshener and old cigarettes.

“Sorry,” you rasp, your voice still wrecked from all the singing, from all the tension. You give the driver your address, your own apartment building, a place that suddenly feels impossibly distant and devoid of anything resembling comfort. You lean against your seat throughout the ride, closing your eyes, the city lights streaking past the window in blurred ribbons of color. The jacket rests on your lap as a crumpled weight.

The taxi navigates the quieter streets, leaving the core of Shibuya’s nightlife behind. The buildings grow more residential, the neon less aggressive. You recognize the familiar turn onto your street, a canyon of mid-rise apartments and shuttered family-run shops. The taxi slows, pulling towards the curb opposite your building. You fumble for your wallet, motions sluggish, your mind still trapped in that neon-lit booth, in the shattered moment before the door crashed open.

You pay the fare, the transaction silent and efficient. The driver somberly nods in appreciation, the partition sliding shut as you open the door and step out onto the pavement and back out into the real world. The cool air hits you again, now sharper. You take a step towards your building’s entrance across the street, clutching the jacket. You need water. You need silence. You need to avert your mind from thoughts of pear blossoms or panicked brown eyes or the acidic taste of hypocrisy.

“Hey! Wait!”

The voice slices through the pre-dawn stillness, high-pitched, slightly slurred, but unmistakable. Her voice.

Your heart stutters, then drums hard against your ribs. You freeze mid-step, turning slowly, disbelievingly, towards the sound.

She’s standing maybe twenty feet down the sidewalk, on the same side of the street as your apartment building, swaying slightly. Seoyeon. No Yooyeon, no Xinyu, no manager. Only her, silhouetted under the harsh glow of a singular streetlamp, wearing the same jean shorts and thin top from the karaoke booth, her arms wrapped around herself against the relentless cold. Her hair is way messier, escaping the bun entirely on one side. Her eyes are wide, searching, slightly unfocused.

“You!” she says again, pointing a finger that wobbles unsteadily in your direction. She takes a stumbling step forward. “You have—” her voice rises and falls, as if she were winding up. “You have my jacket!”

You stare, dumbfounded. The taxi pulls away, its taillights disappearing around a corner, leaving you stranded on the curb facing her. The street is completely deserted. The only sounds you can hear are the distant hum of the city and the frantic pounding of your own pulse.

“Seoyeon?” Your voice is rough scraped gravel. “How are you here?”

She ignores the question, focusing entirely on the bundle in your hands. “My jacket!” she insists, lurching towards you with more determination than coordination. “Give it! They’ll—they’ll smell it on you—or something,” Her logic is drowned by the evident alcohol still swirling in her system. She covered it better in the booth, fueled by adrenaline and shared rebellion. Now, outside, alone, the full weight of the drinks hits her like a truck.

She reaches you, close enough that you catch the stronger scent of layered soju and see the hectic flush high on her cheeks under the streetlight. Her eyes are glassy, pupils dilated, but beneath the intoxication, there’s a frantic, almost panicked energy. She makes a grab for the jacket crumpled against your chest.

“Seoyeon, stop,” you say, instinctively taking a half-step back. “You shouldn’t be out here alone. Where are the others? Your manager?”

“Fuck them,” she slurs, swiping at the jacket again. Her fingers brush the fabric. “Judgy—hypocrites—‘Feel sorry for him’—fuck them!” Her voice rises, echoing slightly in the quiet street. “Just gimme my jacket!”

This time she lunges with reckless abandon, off balance, her weight tipping dangerously forward as she snatches at the bundle. Her fingers clutch on the fabric, tugging hard. Caught by surprise, you instinctively hold on for a split second. The opposing forces—her drunken momentum, your reflexive resistance—are disastrous.

She gasps, her eyes flying wide with sudden, sobering terror as her feet teeter and tangle. She pitches sideways, not towards you, but towards the unforgiving pavement of the sidewalk.

Instinct screams louder than thought. You drop the jacket and lunge forward, shooting out your arms. You catch her not gracefully, but desperately, one arm hooking awkwardly around her waist, the other hand grabbing her upper arm right as her knees buckle. Her weight slams into you, solid and warm and terrifyingly limp. You stagger back a step, boots scraping loudly on the pavement, struggling to keep both of you upright.

For a heart-stopping moment, she’s dead weight against you, her face buried against your shoulder, her breathing ragged and hot through the fabric of your shirt. The scent of alcohol, pear blossoms, and sheer, unadulterated panic washes over you. You tighten your grip, bracing your legs, holding her suspended inches from the ground.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” you repeat, your own heart hammering against your ribs. “I’ve got you. Don’t move.”

She doesn’t struggle. She sags against you, a shudder running through her frame. “Told you,” she mumbles, her voice muffled against your shoulder, thick with tears, or exhaustion, or both. “Screw them. I just—wanted my jacket—”

The near-disaster shocks some clarity into the situation. She’s out here alone, drunk, stumbling, and clearly in no state to navigate back to wherever her group is staying, let alone face her manager. The memory of Yooyeon’s icy command—’Stay away from her’—wars with the immediate, undeniable reality of Seoyeon trembling against you, inches from cracking her head open.

You look across the street. Your apartment building entrance is right there. Safe. Contained. A world away from judgmental friends and furious managers.

The jacket lies discarded on the damp pavement. You ignore it for now. Carefully, shifting your grip to better support her weight, you turn her slightly, keeping one arm firmly around her waist. She doesn’t resist, leaning heavily into your side, her head lolling against your shoulder. Her eyes are half-closed now, the frantic energy draining away, replaced by sheer, drunken exhaustion.

“Come on,” you say, your voice low, firm. “My place is right there. Across the street. You need to calm down. Get some water.”

She mumbles something incoherent, but allows you to guide her, her steps shuffling and uncoordinated. You half-walk, half-carry her a few steps to the curb, glance quickly for non-existent traffic, then navigate the short distance across the street to your building’s entrance. The automatic door slides open with a soft sigh.

The fluorescent-lit lobby is starkly quiet after the street. The night concierge glances up from his phone right as he’s about to walk away from the front counter, his expression carefully neutral as he takes in the scene: you supporting a clearly inebriated, strikingly beautiful young woman inside. You avoid his eyes, steering Seoyeon towards the elevators. She stumbles again on the smooth floor, and you tighten your hold, pulling her closer. Her warmth, her weight, the softness of her hair against your jaw—it’s overwhelming, charged with a different kind of tension now, born of necessity and shared vulnerability.

Punching the elevator button, waiting feels eternal under the concierge’s silent observation, but he eventually leaves you alone to your own devices before the doors finally slide open. You maneuver her inside, leaning her against the mirrored wall as you press the button for your floor. The reflection shows her slumped posture, her flushed face, her eyes slammed shut. She looks impossibly young and utterly spent. You pick up the jacket from where you’d managed to grab it off the pavement without dropping her.

The elevator ascends in silence, the hum of machinery the only sound. The mirrored walls amplify the awkward intimacy, the sheer strangeness of the situation. You hold her upright, her body a soft, trusting weight against yours, the events of the last hour—the singing, the almost-kiss, the shattering interruption, the street rescue—collapsing into a single, surreal point of contact in this sterile, ascending box. Her jacket, previously a symbol of stolen connection, now feels like a burden, a complication clutched in your free hand. Dawn is creeping closer, and with it, her inevitable departure. But for now, she’s here, leaning against you, breathing softly, entirely in your care.

It takes a herculean effort to fish the keys to your apartment from your pocket, with the weight of Seoyeon on your shoulders, but you unlock the door and take her inside your flat. Approaching the lone couch in your living room, you gently lay her down on her back as she releases her grip on you, settling in and taking up every little space. Leaving her to rest, you rush to the kitchen fridge and grab a glass and a pitcher of water, pouring it as you return to her, sprawled and deeply wasted. Well aware of the dangerous precedent you’re setting and its disastrous consequences, you can only pray she comes to her senses.

Placing the half-full glass of water and the pitcher on the table, you gently mutter, “Oh, Seoyeon. If only—”

The rest are words you don’t have the heart to openly declare. You share equal amounts of accountability as her, except you won’t get half the lashings, whether from her friends or from upper management.

As you scan her, peaceful and asleep, you come to the realization that she genuinely does not want to get on that plane in the morning. Beneath that quiet exterior lies unfettered frustration and rage against her so-called friends. The one time she decides to loosen up and have a night all to herself, it almost causes a near career-ending situation. She’ll probably live with that guilt for the rest of her idol days. Such is the unfortunate nature of the beast, of the industry. To be perfect always, to make no mistakes.

As the night approaches the point of fading away, you’re reminded of your own path. So different, yet so similar to Seoyeon’s. And considering what you’ve been through these last several hours, that’s a lifetime till you’ll get to experience something like this again. Admittedly, it’s liberating. A breath of fresh air from your otherwise repetitious life.

The only thing you want to see is her glow, that bright sparkle permeating from her face. If only you had more time.

Once you’re certain she’s unconscious, you hop from your crouch and walk away, readying yourself for a brief night’s rest, only to hear her faint, incomprehensible mumbles, drawing your attention.

“Seoyeon? What’s up?”

The cool plastic of the water glass beads with condensation against your palm as you turn back. Seoyeon hasn’t moved from where you laid her on the couch, a crumpled starfish against the worn dark fabric. Her face is turned towards the back cushion, half-buried. The soft, distressed mumble comes again, muffled.

“Seoyeon?” You crouch beside the couch, setting the glass and pitcher carefully on the low table. The floorboards creak under your knees. “Hey. Can you hear me?”

She stirs, a small, restless shift. One hand flails weakly, fingers brushing the air before falling back onto her stomach. Her eyelids flutter, but don’t open. “—no,” she slurs, the word thick and indistinct. “—don’t wanna—”

“Don’t wanna what?” You keep your voice low, gentle, trying to pierce the fog of alcohol and exhaustion. The pre-dawn light seeping through your thin curtains paints everything in shades of weak blue and grey, making the scene feel fragile, unreal. “Water? Here.”

You reach for the glass, but her hand flails again, this time connecting loosely with your forearm. The touch is startlingly warm. “—go,” she breathes, the sound catching on something wet. Perhaps a tear or her saliva. “—don’t make me go—”

The fragmented plea hits you like a physical weight. ‘Don’t make me go.’ Back to the hotel. Back to the manager. Get on that plane. Back to the life where moments like tonight are impossible, dangerous contraband.

You lower the glass. The urge to brush the stray strands of hair stuck to her damp temple is almost overwhelming. You curl your fingers into your palm instead.

“Nobody’s making you go anywhere right now,” you murmur, the lie tasting like ash. Dawn is making her go. Responsibility is making her go. Millions of fans around the world are making her go. The harsh reality Yooyeon and Xinyu represent is making her go. “No one else is here but me. Please rest.”

A small tremor runs through her. “Liars,” she whispers, the word barely audible, aimed at the cushions or the universe. “—all—hypocrites—” Her breath hitches, a soft, wet sound that twists something inside your chest. She’s crying. Silently, drunkenly, the tears escaping beneath closed lashes, tracking paths through the faint smudges of makeup still clinging to her skin.

The sight undoes you. The fierce performer, the exasperated friend, the girl with the sharp tongue but secret softness—reduced to this shivering, tearful vulnerability on your worn out couch. It’s a raw exposure far more intimate than any almost-kiss. It’s the crumbling of the last wall.

Carefully, slowly, you reach out. Not to touch her face, but to gently pry the crumpled jacket from where it’s still tangled near her hip. You smooth it out, the familiar scent of pear blossoms rising faintly, and drape it over her like a makeshift blanket, tucking it loosely around her shoulders. The gesture feels absurdly inadequate.

As the fabric settles over her, her hand moves. Not a flail this time, but a slow, searching crawl across the couch cushion. Her fingers brush yours where they rest near the edge of the jacket.

You freeze.

Her touch is hesitant, clumsy with intoxication, but undeniably deliberate. Her fingers, cold at the tips, curl weakly around your index finger. A silent cry. An anchor.

You don’t pull away; you let her hold on, her grip loose but desperate. Her crying softens to hitching breaths, her face still turned away, hidden. The silence stretches, filled only by her ragged breathing and the frantic drumming of your own pulse in your ears. The pale light strengthens incrementally, outlining the contours of your small, cluttered living room—the overflowing bookshelf, the takeout containers forgotten on the table, the silhouette of her curled form on the couch, clutching your finger like a lifeline.

This is the precipice. This quiet, tear-stained connection in the fading dark. The world outside—the furious manager, the judgmental friends, the looming flight, your own precarious job waiting in a few short hours—presses in like a crushing weight, an inevitable that will pull you apart. But here, now, there is only the warmth of her hand around yours, the slight tremor running through her, the impossible fragility of the moment.

You shift slightly, settling more fully onto the floor beside the couch, your back against its sturdy arm. You don’t speak. There are no words that won’t shatter this. You simply stay. You become the anchor she’s silently asked for. Your finger rests in her loose grip, a point of contact in the vast, terrifying loneliness of her world and the quiet desperation of yours. The pitcher of water sits forgotten on the table, beading coldly. Dawn is no longer approaching; it’s seeping into the room, minute by minute, a slow, inevitable tide washing away the fragile sanctuary of the night. But for now, you hold the line. You hold her hand. You watch the light grow stronger on her tear-streaked face, and you wait.

The apartment is quiet, but not silent. Only the faint hum of the fridge and the soft whistle of wind nudging the balcony glass. Dawn creeps in inch by inch, peeling shadows off the room like skin from fruit. You shift slightly, your back pressed against the arm of the couch, her fingers still curled loosely around yours. Seoyeon hasn’t moved, but you can feel her breathing change—steadier now, more aware.

Her fingers tighten.

You look up and find her eyes open, red-rimmed and puffy, lashes clumped from dried tears. She doesn’t say anything at first, merely stares at you, as if trying to anchor herself in reality. You hold her gaze, patient, silent. The world beyond this room is still waiting to collapse around her. You both know that. But right now, it hasn't.

“You stayed,” she whispers, hoarse.

“I said I would,” you reply, matching her softness.

A beat passes. Then another. Her eyes search yours with something deeper than gratitude—something raw and reverent. And then, without warning, she pulls herself up, slowly, until she’s sitting beside you again. Her legs are folded beneath her, her hands rubbing nervously at the sleeves of the jacket you returned to her sometime in the night.

She doesn’t meet your gaze now. Instead, her voice, tentative and low, breaks the stillness like a ripple across glass.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

You don’t need to ask what this is. The industry. The expectations. The constant dissection of her every move, every breath. The public self, flawless and unbreakable. The private self, unraveling at the seams.

“I try to be the adult,” she continues, fingers curling into fists in her lap. “The one who keeps everyone safe, who doesn’t step out of line. But it’s so exhausting. I'm tired of holding it together just because I'm the one who looks like she can.”

She finally glances at you, eyes trembling. “And then I meet you. And it’s so stupid—this random accident. A bump on the train. A karaoke booth. But it’s the first time in a long time I felt like I didn’t have to—perform. Like I could truly be myself.”

You don’t speak. You reach out instead, brushing your thumb across the back of her hand, and her breath catches. Slowly, cautiously, she leans forward. Her forehead comes to rest on your shoulder. Then her whole body follows, small and warm and vibrating faintly with emotion as she folds into you.

You wrap your arms around her without thinking.

She smells like soap and sleep now, the faintest trace of pear blossom perfume clinging to the crook of her neck. Her body melts into yours, burying her face in your shirt as though trying to disappear inside your ribs. You hold her there, unmoving, your cheek resting against the top of her head.

“I’m scared,” she whispers. “That I’ll forget this. That I’ll go back tomorrow and none of it will matter.”

You close your eyes, fingers threading gently through her hair. “Then don’t forget about tonight. Don’t forget about the good times.”

She shifts, enough to glance up at you. Her eyes search yours again, but this time, the desperation is replaced with something quieter. Trust. The kind of trust that hurts because it’s so fragile, so undeserved, and yet she’s giving it to you anyway.

Her hand comes up, cupping your jaw with tentative care. You lean in without hesitation, like gravity’s been pulling you this way all night. She closes the distance the last few inches, her breath warm against your lips.

And then—she kisses you again.

It’s not careful; it's fierce—urgent. Like she’s trying to pour all the things she can’t say into the press of her lips against yours. Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. You respond in kind, sliding your hand up her back, pressing her into you, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.

The kiss deepens, not messy, but aching. Like a dam bursting. Like the moment before a fall you no longer want to stop.

She tastes like citrus, alcohol, regret, and everything else in between, like all the things you should have said earlier. Perhaps this night was always meant to end here.

When she finally pulls away, breath shallow and lips red, her forehead rests against yours, your noses brushing. Her eyes are closed, her voice small. You can hear her heart through her gentle breaths.

“I’m not sorry.”

You shake your head. Neither are you.

Her breath mingles with yours, shallow and unsteady, the heat between you both rising in quiet, unstoppable waves. Seoyeon’s hand remains against your cheek, her thumb gently stroking your skin, but there's tension behind the softness—an urgency beneath the surface, waiting to break through.

Then it does.

She kisses you again, harder this time—less hesitant, more driven. The kind that demands something, not just offers. Her fingers tighten at the back of your head, pulling you closer, until your teeth barely graze and your breaths tangle, ragged and warm.

Your body moves on instinct. You shift, climbing onto the couch, one knee sinking beside her hip, the other anchoring you against the cushions as your hands cage her in—one planted beside her head, the other skimming her waist. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t falter. Her eyes burn into yours for a fleeting second before she tugs you down into another kiss, fiercer than the last.

Your hand slides up her side, her thin shirt wrinkling beneath your touch. You feel the tremble in her breath as your fingers graze the hem. She answers by hooking her hands beneath your shirt, tugging it upward in fits and starts between kisses. When she finally peels it halfway up your chest, she lets out a soft, frustrated sound and rips it the rest of the way. The fabric stretches, then tears at the seam near the collarbone.

You blink. “That was my—”

“I’ll buy you another,” she murmurs against your mouth before pulling you back in, her teeth catching your bottom lip with intent. Pushing it off you, she tears the rest of it off your body, landing on the ground. She takes lease of your bare chest, claiming you as hers. “It was looking worthless anyway.”

You can’t even argue. In fact, you’re too far gone to care.

Your hands fumble at the hem of her shirt now, working fast, your pulse roaring so loudly in your ears it drowns out the city beyond your window. Digging through her shirt, slowly lifting it off her svelte body, eventually getting a little assist from her hands. Over her head, then sliding it off her shoulders, tossing it aside and joining the other discarded piece of clothing on the floor.

Seoyeon pulls you flush against her, her legs parting slightly to make room as you sink into the cradle of her hips. Your lips move along her jaw, her throat, her collarbone—tracing heat and longing across every inch of skin you find. She gasps your name into the quiet, and it doesn't sound like a whisper. It sounds like a need.

The moment has the weight of something irreversible.

You pause, your forehead resting against hers, your chest rising and falling against her ribs. Her hand rises to the side of your face, her eyes searching yours through the hush.

There’s no pretense left. No posturing. No industry rules. No office culture. Just the two of you: lonely souls, pressed together in the dying hours of a borrowed night, clinging to something fleeting and real.

And when she pulls you down again, lips parted, body arching to meet yours, it’s more than passion—it’s rebellion. It's a confession. It’s all the things she can’t say with a manager waiting in the lobby, with fans watching her every breath, with friends who pretend support but demand perfection.

Your mouths meet again. And again. The world blurs around the edges. Time unspools into something slow and molten.

Neither of you have anything left to lose. But in this fragile, fleeting moment—you have each other.

As the clock goes from 4 to 5, your kisses intensify, burning brighter than the neon lights that have blinded your eyes for hours. Your hands are all over each other, exploring the other’s bodies, leaving no opportunity wasted, leaving no room for regret. She kicks up a leg, giving your hand new territory to travel. Wrestling skin and fabric, your primal urges get the best of you. Like your mind hasn’t already hit the gutter, the temptation is something you can barely fight.

Still, you never forget your place. Hiking your hand up those jean shorts of hers, you ask her: “Can I?”

She nods vigorously, seemingly wanting it more than you.

You oblige, slowly working through the buttons, followed by the zipper, sliding it down along with the rest of the obstructive fabric. Getting a feel of her thighs, she trembles; whether it's due to the cold seeping in or from your touch, you have no clue. But what do you know is there’s barely anything beneath. A thin piece of black underwear separates you from her heat.

Dipping between the lines, the space between you merely breaths, you slip a finger through—and she keens.

Letting out this airy, thick sigh as your digit curls into her slit. Her core aches. Her mouth hangs wide, singing a profound note that’s music to your ears.

“Oh my God—” she whines, holding onto that last word with every fiber of her being. The newfound pleasure is heavenly.

“Don’t worry about anything, just focus on me,” you mumble, softly kissing down her neck between commands, hitching your breath as you feel her pussy begin tightening around your finger.

With her grip slowly arresting you like a vice, you slip a second digit in, eliciting a nasally moan from her saccharine lips. The chant is clear. ‘Need it, need it,’ she repeats, every word heavy, like it’s her lifeline, like it’s something she can’t do without.

Keeping your focus on her pleasure-laden face while her features are constantly shifting and morphing. Your fingers are pushing into her cunt, pressing the buttons that make her go wild. As she writhes and wriggles beneath you, you’re holding her steady with your other arm to keep you both from falling off that couch. She grows more and more restless with each pulse, each stroke, the sensation becoming too overwhelming to resist.

“Ah—fuck—this—is—so—” Seoyeon can’t help but rattle on, even with the endless rush of ecstasy flowing through her nerves. Still having the clarity to remember everything. It’s embedded into her mind like a deep scar. “Bet they’re jealous that you’re fucking me—”

You immediately cut her off kissing her hard on the lips, stretching that cunt a little too deep for comfort. She hums into your mouth, her body fighting against you by instinct before you quickly pull away. Gently shaking your head, you hush into the air, comforting and reassuring her, “Remember. Only me.”

She nods emphatically, bracing for impact. Through the talking, your fingers remain buried inside her cunt. They’re a match made in heaven, like she’s meant for you.

Fast on her clit, you’re regaining your rhythm as quickly as you’ve lost it. Everything falls naturally into place. Seoyeon lets out these quick whimpers, unable to keep herself together under duress. She looks so good like this, so vulnerable, so helpless in your grasp. With each sigh supplementing her moan, her body pushing against you in kind like you’ve been railing her for hours. You can feel how long she’s bottled it up, and how you’ve unlocked this side of her.

“Yes—God—yes—” she mewls, wrapping her arms around your neck and dragging you close, releasing any hope you have of letting go. Not that you had any intention to, considering how alarmingly wet and tight she feels around your grip. You can only imagine what it’s like when you finally make the move on her.

But at this moment, you can only focus on bringing her to that apex. Everything around you blurs except the heavy breaths and sighs, the natural squelch of her cunt with every drag of your fingers, and the tiny, desperate pleas for more.”‘So close,” she murmurs, biting harshly on her lower lip, using what remains of her dwindling resolve she has left to hold on, but she knows she’s on borrowed time. You’re there to accelerate the process.

Anytime now, she’ll come undone in your arms, so you savor every moment you can get.

“It’s okay, babygirl,” you whisper, your fingers inside her delicate, but ardent. “Cum for me. Cum all over my fingers. You’re so wet, God.”

Your voice activates her. Sets her off in a way that only you can.

Arching her back, you feel every inch of her fighting—resisting—only to fold right after. Her walls tensing, rigid against your digits, before it all comes together in a perfect concoction.

Seoyeon’s jaw drops hard. Lips forming a shape vaguely resembling an O, letting out a guttural whiny as her body locks beneath you, violently trembling. Brain going blank, having no other thought but the climactic bliss, the culmination of a dramatic night reaching its expected end. Fucking all sense and sanity out of her, if there’s even anything left to begin with. Your fingers take it all: a torrential downpour of slick and nectar coating your filthy digits, spilling onto your already worn couch, now past the point of repair.

You guide her through the aftershocks, never moving an inch inside her needy cunt, showering her with heaps of praise and soft, tender kisses on her skin. “Good girl—you’re cumming so much for me—” you tell her, comforting and reassuring your presence will stay for as long as she wants.

As her breaths shift from quick and erratic to slow and heavy, you take this opportunity to scoop her in your arms, taking her to somewhere a bit more—spacious. Your bedroom.

Her body instinctively clings to you, arms hooked around your neck, legs coiling around your hips as she finds an air of solace from the madness. Resting her head on your shoulder, you figure that she’s actually light as a feather when she’s not burdened by the weight of her world. Caressing streaks of raven colored hair and back, unhooking her bra and letting the panties halfway down her legs fall to the floor, leaving a trail of your whereabouts.

Gently setting her down on the bed, still in a wayward haze from her climax, the rest of your clothes follow; pants, shoes and boxers all kicked aside as you join her. Your bodies are pressed together, chest to chest, both of you sharing another passionate kiss. There’s nothing in between keeping you apart. Seoyeon looks incredibly pretty like this: so delicate and peaceful, the afterglow of her orgasm and her sticky juices clinging to her skin making her glow under the little light.

Already hard and finally loose, you line your cock on the edge of her aching core, the touch setting her alight, rekindling a dying fire. She keens, bites on her teeth, bracing herself for what’s to come, though she knows she’s not ready.

“Gonna put this inside you, babe,” you whisper , dangerously close to leaving a bruise on her skin, calling you to mark her, to claim her. She waits with bated breath, nodding vigorously in approval, as eager as you are. “Tell me if it’s too much,” you add, leaving pecks from her cheek down to her chin, finishing up at her lips. You don’t know when you’ll get a chance like this again, so you’ll make every moment something meaningful. “I’ll ease into you, but I won’t hurt you. Promise.”

“I know you won’t.” sighs Seoyeon, tilting her head back, gently smiling. “Not like you can hurt me as much as they have.”

“Need I remind you that we’ve only known each other for hours?” you reply, much to her amusement. She laughs, heartily—like you didn’t fuck her to pieces minutes ago.

“Not bothering to ask me if I’m on the pill?” she says, trying to throw you off.

“You’re an idol. I think we both know the answer to that.”

“And what if I wasn’t?”

You remain silent, brushing strands of hair blocking her otherwise perfect face away, seeing through the facade.

“Gosh, I will seriously get in so much trouble. I mean—they’re probably looking for me right now.” Seoyeon looks away, finding some clarity through her mostly drunken haze, even if her words feel heavy. “And if they see me here—with you—”

“Don’t worry about that,” you interrupt with a kiss, shaking your head. “Just—don’t forget this night. Forget about me, but not tonight. Ever.”

With that, you slip your cock inside her spreading core, feeling the sensation of her walls stretch against you upon making contact. Looking into Seoyeon’s twinkling eyes, seeing lifetimes in each other’s gaze, before the clench utterly breaks her. More than anything, more than your fingers ever have with a single stroke.

Lips parting, moaning against you, breath hot, laced with a dangerous concoction of alcohol and ecstasy. Her eyes slam shut as she takes you in. It’s all too much for Seoyeon to handle at once.

“Oh, holy fuck. Holy fuck,” she cries, her breath hitching, her body nearly jumping at the depths you’re reaching. “You feel so large inside me—”

“Does it hurt?” is your first question. It’s your top priority, caring more for her wellbeing than your own gain. Because fuck, she’s incredible. Too much for words to explain. Tight, intoxicating warmth envelops your cock as you bury yourself deep in her sopping cunt, unwilling to release you from its ironclad grip.

Vehemently, she shakes her head, her face burning red from sheer pressure. “It’s okay. I can handle it, I can handle it,” she pants, though her tone remains low, giving you second thoughts. But then she follows up with: “Don’t worry. There’s nothing you’ll do that can hurt me. Not when you’re giving this to me. Like you said: let loose.”

Further spurring you on is her hand delicately brushing up and down your arm. The only thing to really seal the notion is a kiss signed with her lips.

It takes every bit of strength to draw your hips back; she has you wrapped in a magnetic pull. Slick, wet, hot. Testing your resolve with every second you stay embedded inside her pussy, daring you to break right then and there. It’s nothing like the porn you’ve been watching during the little time off you have from work.

Swallowing your throat, holding onto a breath like you’re drowning (you are), the sound is sloppy yet so satisfying. Her juices coat your shaft, making it easier to plunge right back in. Stretching her cunt a little deeper with every thrust, overwhelming your muscles with a rush of adrenaline and blissful rapture as you fuck Seoyeon at a steady, perfect rhythm.

Doing all the little motions in between: kissing her temple, burying your face against her neck, finally leaving a bruise as a memento, whispering all the things she wants to hear.

“So fucking tight—” you mumble, brushing up against her ear, letting your tongue have a taste. As daylight begins to break and the night dies, you’ve never felt more alive with anything or with anyone than with Seoyeon, especially when you’re fucking her like this. Raw, intimate, passionate.

You can feel her body respond in kind. Her nails leave scratches all over your back, hugging you so tightly it’s suffocating. Moaning with desire, with intent. Demanding you go harder, she’s not as fragile as you believed.

“More, baby—” she whimpers, kissing your side, her embrace now inescapable. “This fucking cock—it’s so, so good—”

It’s now beyond your control. Hammering into her cunt, pinning her deep into the mattress to the point of splitting it in half. You’re working her throat overtime; unfazed and barely muffled, her voice strains and cracks with every curse and whine, clearly breaking apart at the seams. She leaves chills down your spine through vibrations of her obscene noises against your ear, accompanied by the echo of your skin slapping skin. It’s only pushing you further and further over the edge.

Pushing your hips against hers, your noses create a connection, allowing you to meet halfway in a torrid, frenzied kiss. You can hardly call it a respite, as you continue to pound into Seoyeon without quit, like you’ll burst into flames if you ever stop. Hardly a thought worth considering when you feel the intrusion of dusk piercing through the windows of your apartment bedroom.

She doesn’t have much time left—and so do you.

“Promise you won’t ever forget about me,” you beg, despite going against your own word and Seoyeon losing herself in her own bliss. A few minutes more and she might disintegrate into nothing right before your very eyes. Forget about pace at this point, it’s only about surviving the night till the world comes calling again.

“Never,” she manages to spit, moaning against your face, body trembling. Pulling you close to her like you’re her lifeline, shifting into millions of pieces that have no well-defined identity. “Not when you make me feel this good, this alive—”

God, no wonder you’ve fallen so hard for Seoyeon. Even when she’s shaking and pressed beneath your grip, she still finds ways to make your heart flutter.

“So close, again—” she whines, and that’s all you needed to hear. “I hope you are too—”

She activates something in your head. Right there, she’s set your body on fire. Like a ticking time bomb, minutes turn into seconds in an instant. As if her clench stifling your lungs wasn’t enough. Your senses are working overtime to salvage what’s left. It’s right there—the inevitable, the end.

You just have to give in.

A couple more thrusts into her; you’ve stopped thinking about it and choose to let go. Seoyeon keens, and then: she softly grins.

“There you go—give it all to me—”

Surprisingly, it’s a quiet affair. A deep moan escapes your mouth, sure, and it’s mostly you filling up the air with your weak groans, but she lets the moment pass by with an air of peace and finality. Like she’s already accepted her fate. And you pour it on; shot after shot of cum painting her cunt, not wasting a single drop. Falling beside her, burying your face into the sheets, now you’re the one desperately clinging to Seoyeon.

It should feel euphoric, a grand triumph. But knowing what’s waiting on the other side, it isn’t. It’s bittersweet.

You kiss her. Leave a second bruise on her neck. It will eventually disappear, but the memory never fades.

And so remain together like this: glued to each other in bed, while your orgasm dies and the morning rises. You don’t wanna look; the sight of Seoyeon’s little smile is the last image you want to remember. It finally catches up to you: the fatigue, the drunkenness, the wear of your emotions.

Eventually, your world fades to black.

————— Sunlight slants through the half-drawn curtains, painting stripes across the rumpled duvet where Seoyeon had been. The space beside you is hollow, the indent of her body already fading. A crushing weight settles on your chest, immediate and suffocating. The vibrant, tangled intimacy of the night—the moans, the desperate kisses, the raw vulnerability, the fierce claiming—feels like a dream punctured by the sterile silence of your bedroom.

The digital clock on the nightstand screams 10:47 AM. You’re catastrophically late.

Panic flares, cold and sharp, but it’s instantly drowned by a deeper, more profound realization: she’s just—gone. Like the last notes of a song fading into silence.

You push yourself up, the sheets pooling around your waist, the phantom warmth of her body against yours still palpable. The room feels too big, too quiet, haunted by the ghost of her laughter, the memory of her trembling beneath you, the echo of her whispered confessions against your skin. The faint, sweet scent clinging to the pillow is a cruel reminder of what you lost.

Stumbling out of bed, legs unsteady, the pleasant ache in your muscles a stark counterpoint to the hollow feeling expanding inside you. The living room is a tableau of the night’s chaotic intimacy: your torn shirt discarded near the couch, the empty water pitcher and glass on the low table, the cushions still bearing the deep impression where you’d coaxed her climax with your fingers. The memory is visceral, electric, making your breath catch. But the space feels abandoned. Sterile, despite the mess.

Then you see it.

Draped carefully over the back of the armchair, not crumpled on the floor where you’d both shed clothes in a frenzy of need, is her jacket. The soft, expensive-looking one she’d made you wear, the one that smelled like her. It’s folded with a care that feels deliberate, almost reverent. And beside it, resting squarely on the seat cushion, is a single, tiny square of paper, torn from something larger. Maybe a receipt, maybe a notebook page.

Your heart stutters, then hammers against your ribs like a trapped bird. Crossing the room slowly, the worn carpet feels rough under your bare feet. The silence is eerie, deafening. You pick up the paper. The handwriting is small, neat, a little rushed, but unmistakably hers:

> Had to go. Flight. Idol stuff. You already know.

> Don’t forget.

> 010-XXXX-XXXX

> - S1

Below the number: a single, hastily drawn puppy. Like something she might doodle in a margin during a boring meeting.

The simplicity of it steals your breath. No grand declarations. No promises she couldn’t keep. Just a lifeline.

‘Don’t forget.’

As if you ever could.

The scent of pear blossoms seems to intensify, rising from the jacket, from the paper held tightly in your suddenly trembling fingers. It’s not the scent of loss anymore. It’s the scent of her, preserved. A tangible connection.

You trace the numbers with your thumb, the ink slightly smudged, but real. The frantic worry about work, the looming dread of facing your boss, the mountain of emails undoubtedly piling up—it all recedes, muted by the sheer, staggering significance of this tiny square of paper. She didn’t merely slip away. She left a part of herself. Deliberately. Hopeful.

You remember her fierce kiss in the grey dawn light, her whispered "I'm not sorry." You remember her vulnerability, the tears, the way she clung to you like an anchor. You remember the rebellion in her touch, the way she shattered her own carefully constructed walls against your skin. She wasn’t merely escaping her friends or her manager last night; she was claiming a moment of pure, unvarnished self.

And she wants you to remember. She wants this—this connection forged in shared exhaustion and unexpected understanding, the intimacy that bloomed in the cracks of their pressured lives—to mean something beyond the frantic hours before her flight.

You pick up her jacket. It’s soft, still holding a whisper of her warmth or maybe the memory of it. You bring it to your face, inhaling deeply. Pear blossoms, beer and soju, the faintest trace of her perfume, and underneath it all, something uniquely Seoyeon. Not the idol, but the girl who tripped on subway stairs, who rolled her eyes at her friends, who confessed her fears in a quiet cafe, who kissed you like it was her final act of defiance.

A slow, hesitant warmth begins to spread through the hollow ache. It’s not happiness—not quite. It’s something quieter, more profound. A fragile kind of hope, delicate as the paper in your hand. The world hasn’t changed. Your soul-crushing job still waits. Her life as an idol, governed by rules and scrutiny, continues relentlessly. The distance between Seoul and Tokyo remains vast.

But—she left her number. She asked you not to forget. She reached back.

The frantic panic about work resurfaces, much sharper now. There will be consequences. The weight of your ordinary, monotonous career presses in. Life goes on.

Yet as you stand, still holding the jacket and the precious slip of paper, the dread feels—different. Manageable. It’s merely noise. Background static to the quiet hum of possibility resonating from the number in your hand.

You carefully fold the paper, slipping it into the pocket of your sleep pants, a lucky charm against the mundane hell awaiting you in the office. You drape her jacket back over one of the dining room chairs, not putting it away. Let it stay. A reminder.

You head towards the shower, the hot water a necessity to face the day. The steam rises, filling the small bathroom. As you close your eyes, letting the water sluice over the scratches on your back—her marks—the image that surfaces isn’t of spreadsheets or your boss fuming. It’s Seoyeon’s face in the dim karaoke light, fierce and alive as she sang, then vulnerable and trusting as she fell apart on your couch. It’s her smile, small and real, in the grey dawn after. It’s the lone puppy drawn beside her number.

The day ahead is a gauntlet. Deadlines and apologies and the ruthless grind of an indifferent corporate world. But beneath the surface tension, beneath the fatigue and the lingering scent of her on your skin, something else thrums. A quiet, persistent current. A purpose.

“Don’t forget.”

—————

(A/N: Thank you for the commission! Again, would like to apologize for the inactivity, semester just ended and thesis work is brutal. But I am getting into tripleS a little. A bit too many members to remember, but I really like Sohyun especially. Haven't had time to listen to their new music, but Girls Never Die was one of my favorite 2024 songs. What started as a fun prompt turned into something a bit more emotional and sentimental. I do wonder if I'm just repeating elements from older works, especially since it takes a lot from Instant Crush. Hopefully with more free time, I can post a bit often than usual, even if it's only temporarily. Thank you for reading!)

585 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 1 month ago

Text

My Nerdy Girlfriend

Yooyeon x male reader

words: 10.4k

"You're home late," Yooyeon said, glancing up, her voice soft but warm, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Rough day?" She pushed her glasses up, closing her book, and padded over to the couch, settling beside you, her knee brushing yours.

"Same stuff," you said, your voice tired but lightening at her presence.

"Trucks delayed, boss yelling, the usual. You? Still sticking to that science book?" You nodded at her textbook, grinning as you reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, your fingers lingering on her cheek.

She laughed, a sound that always felt like home, leaning into your touch. "Trying to. Got an exam next week, so I'm drowning in enzymes and reactions," she said, her eyes sparkling behind her glasses. "But I missed you today. You've been working too much."

"Gotta keep the lights on," you said, your tone playful but honest, your hand sliding to rest on her thigh, a casual touch that felt electric, the warmth of her skin through her leggings stirring the ache you tried to ignore.

"And, you know, saving up for… stuff." You let the word hang, a subtle nod to the future you both dreamed of, the ring you'd been eyeing at the jeweler's downtown.

Her cheeks flushed, eyes flicking down, then back to yours, catching the hint. "Stuff, huh?" she said, her voice teasing.

"You're too good to me, you know that?" She leaned closer, kissing your cheek, her lips soft and fleeting, leaving you wanting more.

You turned, catching her gaze, your hand tightening slightly on her thigh. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing enough. If you're happy, with me, with… this."

Her eyes widened, her hand covering yours, her touch warm and reassuring. "Happy? Of course I am," she said, her voice earnest, her glasses slipping again as she leaned forward.

"I know I'm… careful, about some things, but it's not because I don't want you. I do, I just…" She trailed off, her blush deepening, her fingers tightening around yours.

"I know," you said, your voice gentle, your thumb brushing her thigh, a subtle push you couldn't resist.

"You want to wait, I understand. I'd wait forever for you, Yooyeon. But sometimes, when you're sitting there all cute and nerdy, I just… I want to be closer." Your words were honest, your eyes searching hers for a response.

Her breath caught, her lips parting. "You make it so hard to stick to my rules, do you? I want to be closer too, but… I'm scared, okay? Scared it'll change things before we're ready." A nervous laugh escaped, her hand sliding to your chest, resting over your heart.

You nodded, your hand moving to cup her cheek, your thumb brushing her lower lip. "Nothing's changing us, Yooyeon-ah,"

"But maybe… we can find other ways to be close, yeah? No rules broken, just… us." Your tone was suggestive, a careful nudge, testing the boundaries she'd set, your heart racing at the possibility.

Her eyes flickered with curiosity, her blush spreading, but she didn't pull away. "Other ways?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her hand still on your chest, her fingers curling into your shirt.

"Like what, huh? You and your sneaky ideas." Her teasing was shy, but her smile encouraged you, a crack in her usual resolve.

You leaned closer, your lips brushing her ear, your voice a low murmur.

"Like this," you said, kissing the sensitive spot below her ear, slow and deliberate, drawing a soft gasp from her.

Your hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer, her body warm against yours.

"Or maybe this," you added, kissing her neck, your teeth grazing lightly, her breath hitching as she gripped your shirt tighter, her head tilting to give you more access.

"This… this isn't breaking any rules, right?" Your question was half-serious, half-hopeful, her glasses fogging slightly as she leaned into you, her body betraying her desire.

"I don't know…" she murmured as she pulled back to meet your gaze, your hand resting on her hip, your thumb tracing circles through her sweater, "Okay, okay, enough Romeo," she said, her voice light but flustered, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"I made something for you, by the way. A surprise!" She hopped off the couch, her bare feet padding across the worn rug to the kitchenette, where a covered dish sat on the counter, steam curling from under the lid.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the couch, your work shirt still unbuttoned from earlier. "A surprise, huh?" you said, trying to sound hyped but feeling a twinge of dread.

Yooyeon's cooking was… let's just say, legendary for all the wrong reasons. There was the kimchi jjigae that tasted like pure salt, the tteokbokki that somehow turned to glue, and don't even get started on the "experimental" bulgogi that had you both ordering delivery in defeat. "What's on the menu tonight, Yooyeon-ah?"

She spun around, holding a ladle like a weapon, her eyes sparkling with that nerdy enthusiasm that made you weak. "It's japchae!" she announced, all proud, like she'd cracked the code to the universe instead of tossing noodles in a pan.

"I followed a recipe this time, promise. I even watched a YouTube tutorial. It's gonna be so good, you'll see." She lifted the lid, revealing a pile of glass noodles mixed with veggies and what looked like beef, the sesame oil smell hitting you hard.

You squinted at the dish, your stomach doing a cautious flip. "Japchae, huh?" you said, scratching the back of your neck.

"Looks… colorful." You stood, wandering over to peer into the bowl, trying to hide your skepticism.

The veggies were unevenly chopped, the beef suspiciously dark, and was that… a random chunk of carrot twice the size of the others? Yooyeon's cooking track record flashed through your mind, and you braced yourself for another culinary adventure.

She caught your look, her smile faltering. "What? You don't trust me?" she said, crossing her arms, the ladle still in hand.

"I worked hard on this, you know. Two hours! I only burned myself once!" She held up her finger, showing a tiny red mark, her pout so cute you almost forgot the potential food poisoning waiting for you.

"No, no, no... I... am trust youuu...." you said, stepping closer, your hands sliding to her waist, pulling her in just enough to feel her warmth.

"It's juuust… uhh... remember the ramyeon incident? We had to scrape charcoal off the pot for a week." You grinned, trying to keep it light, but her eyes narrowed, all mock-offended.

"That was one time!" she huffed, swatting your chest with the ladle, leaving a smudge of sesame oil on your shirt. "Okay, maybe three times, but this is different. I'm a scientist, I followed the steps. Just taste it, come on!" She scooped a small portion onto a plate, holding it out with that hopeful, nerdy grin that made it impossible to say no.

You sighed, taking the plate, your heart doing that thing where it melted and panicked at the same time. "Alright, for you," you said, grabbing a pair of chopsticks and picking up a small bite, the noodles slick with oil.

Yooyeon watched, practically bouncing, her glasses slipping again. You popped it in your mouth, chewing slowly, bracing for disaster… but it wasn't terrible. A bit too sweet, maybe, and the beef was chewy, but it was edible. You swallowed, giving her a surprised look.

"Oookay this… ain't that bad. Like... I'm not calling it Michelin-star, but we're not dialing poison control either."

Her face lit up, her hands clapping like she'd won a Nobel Prize. "See? I told you!" she said, throwing her arms around you, her cheek pressed to your chest.

"I'm getting better, right? I'm making galbi next time!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, but the thought of her near an open flame made you wince.

"Easy, chef," you said, laughing, kissing the top of her head, her lavender shampoo hitting you like always.

"Let's stick to noodles for now. But you know, you're cute as hell when you're all proud like this." Your hands slid lower, resting on her hips, the tension from earlier creeping back, your fingers itching to pull her closer.

She caught the shift in your tone, her eyes flicking up to yours, a mix of shy and knowing. "Cute, huh?" she said, her voice softer, her hands still on your chest, her fingers curling into your shirt.

"You're just saying that to distract me from your doubting my cooking." Her teasing was light, but her blush gave her away, her body leaning into yours, the warmth between you sparking again.

"Maybe," you said, your voice low, leaning down to brush your lips against her ear, a move you knew got her flustered.

"Cooking or not, you're driving me crazy." Your words were honest, a hint of the ache you'd been carrying, but you kept it light, respecting the line she'd drawn.

The night had fully settled over Seoul, the city's hum a low drone through the cracked window of your small apartment.

You were sprawled on your bed in the cramped bedroom, your phone screen lit up your face as you scrolled mindlessly through SNS, half-reading posts about work-life balance, your body still buzzing from the earlier moment with Yooyeon on the couch, her japchae, her shy kisses, the way she leaned into you despite her no-sex-before-marriage rule.

Four years, almost five, and you were still head over heels, busting your ass at the shipping company to save for a ring, but that ache, the one that flared when she got too close, gnawed at you. You respected her boundaries, but damn, it was hard.

The door creaked, and Yooyeon stepped in, her presence pulling you out of your phone-induced haze. She'd just showered, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders, a white towel knotted tightly around her body, covering her from chest to mid-thigh.

Her glasses were slightly fogged, her eyes red and puffy, like she'd been crying. She clutched her phone, her knuckles pale, and the sight of her, so vulnerable, so beautiful, hit you like a punch to the gut.

"Yooyeon-ah, what's wrong?' you asked, sitting up, tossing your phone onto the bed. Your voice was soft, concern overriding the lingering heat from earlier, your work shirt still unbuttoned, your heart already racing at the sight of her distress.

She didn't answer right away, just crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, her towel shifting slightly, revealing more of her thigh.

Her hands trembled as she unlocked her phone and shoved it toward you, her voice shaky. "Read this,' she said, her usual nerdy chirp replaced by a raw edge.

"It’s… it's my mom again."

You took the phone, your stomach sinking as you scanned the KakaoTalk chat.

It was the same old argument, her mom pushing an arranged marriage with some guy from a "good family," a doctor or something, someone her parents thought was a better match than you, a 22-year-old logistics grunt scraping by.

The words were polite but cutting:

"Yooyeon, you're 24 now, it's time to think about your future. He's stable, not like…"

The not-like-you part wasn't said, but it was there, and it stung. You'd heard this before, Yooyeon always shutting it down, but each time, it chipped away at you, making you feel like you weren't enough, like you'd never measure up to the life her parents wanted for her.

"Yooyeon-ah…" you started, handing the phone back, your voice low, the familiar weight of inadequacy settling in your chest.

"I'm sorry. I know this sucks. I'm trying, you know? Working my ass off, but… maybe they're right. Maybe you'd be better off with someone who's got it all figured out." Your words were honest, raw, your hand running through your hair, the doubt you'd buried clawing its way out.

Her eyes snapped to yours, wide and fierce behind her glasses, tears brimming but her jaw set. "Don't you dare say that," she said, her voice cracking, scooting closer, her towel loosening slightly.

"I don't want anyone else. I don't care about their 'stable' doctor guy. I want you. I've always wanted you." She grabbed your hand, pressing it to her chest, her heartbeat fast under your palm.

"I was crying because I'm scared of losing you, not because I want that life."

You swallowed hard, her words hitting deep, your thumb brushing her skin, the towel barely holding on now.

"I don't wanna lose you either, Yooyeon-ah," you said, your voice rough, your other hand resting on her bare thigh, the warmth of her skin reigniting that ache.

"But I feel like I'm holding you back. I'm just some guy, you know? Not enough for your family."

She shook her head, tears falling, and then, in a move that stopped your breath, she stood, her hands trembling as she untied the towel, letting it drop to the floor.

Her naked body was breathtaking, tight breasts, soft curves, the faint sheen of her damp skin under the fairy lights.

Your eyes traced her, from her hardened nipples to the dark hair between her thighs, your mind reeling, your body reacting instantly.

"Yooyeon-ah, what're you-," you started, your voice catching, trying to focus on her face, your penis stirring despite your urge to respect her boundaries.

"I want this," she said, her voice steady, stepping closer, climbing onto the bed, straddling your lap, her hands on your shoulders.

"Not because I'm scared or forced, but because I love you. I want my first time to be with you, no one else." Her glasses slipped, her eyes fierce, her bare vagina brushing your jeans, sending a jolt through you.

You gripped her hips, your heart pounding, torn between want and restraint. "You sure, Yooyeon-ah?" you asked, your voice hoarse, searching her face, "You've always said marriage first. I don't want you regretting this."

She kissed you hard, lips desperate, hands tugging at your shirt. "I won't regret it," she whispered, breath hot against your mouth.

"I'm choosing you, now. Please." Her urgency broke your restraint, but you wanted her to feel good first, to ease her into this step.

You kissed her softly, guiding her to lie back, her hair fanning across the pillow, glasses askew. You kissed her neck, her breasts, sucking gently on a nipple, her moan soft but encouraging. Your hand slid between her thighs, fingers parting her vagina, finding her wet, her gasp loud.

"You're so beautiful, Yooyeon-ah," you said, voice low, your fingers circling her clit, slow and deliberate, testing her response.

"Oh… that feels…" she gasped, voice trembling, her hands gripping your shoulders, her hips shifting toward your touch.

"Is it supposed to be… this good?" Her nerdy curiosity peeked through, making you smile, your fingers sliding inside her, her vagina warm and tight, coaxing louder moans.

"Relax," you said, kissing her stomach, then lower, your mouth replacing your fingers, tongue flicking her clit, tasting her sweetness, sharp and intoxicating.

Her moans grew, her hands tangling in your hair, her hips bucking as you sucked gently, exploring her with care, savoring every shudder.

"Taste so good, Yooyeon-ah," you murmured, your tongue circling, her vagina slick under your mouth.

"I'm... I'm...." Her body tensing as pleasure built, with a final flick of your tongue, she came.

"Ergh~" a soft cry escaping, her vagina pulsing, her first orgasm washing over her, her body trembling.

You eased her through it, kissing her thighs, then her lips, sharing her taste, her moan muffled against you.

"Wow," she whispered, breathless, glasses fogged, a shy smile breaking through. "That was… better than any textbook." You laughed, kissing her jaw.

You lay beside her, propped on one elbow to your side, your unbuttoned work shirt loose, your hand tracing lazy circles on her hip, savoring the softness of her skin.

Yooyeon's eyes, usually sharp with nerdy focus, were hazy with pleasure, but a spark of her usual curiosity flickered as she turned to you, her voice soft but teasing.

"Hey…" she said, a playful edge cutting through her breathiness, "Where did you learn that? With another woman?" Her eyebrow quirked, her lips twitching into a smirk, like she was testing you, her nerdy charm shining through even now.

You laughed, caught off guard, your hand pausing on her hip. "No! Big no!" you said, shaking your head, your cheeks heating up.

"From… uh, porn…?" The admission slipped out, half-embarrassed, your voice trailing into a sheepish grin as you scratched the back of your neck, bracing for her reaction.

Yooyeon's eyes widened, her smirk blooming into a full-on grin, her laugh bright and a little mischievous.

"You're cute, but secretly watching porn, huh? Pervert," she teased, poking your chest with a finger, her glasses-free face somehow even prettier in the lights' glow. Her tone was light, but there was a glint in her eyes, like she was enjoying catching you off guard, turning the tables after being so vulnerable.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning closer, your hand sliding back to her waist, a playful challenge in your voice. "Oh, come on, like you've never…?" you asked, letting the question hang, your fingers brushing the curve of her hip, testing her reaction, the heat between you flaring again.

She rolled her eyes, her flush deepening, but her voice was firm, nerdy-practical as ever. "I don't have time to watch porn," she said, like it was the most obvious thing, her hand resting on your arm, fingers curling lightly.

"Between bio-chem exams and essays, when would I even…?" She trailed off, her confidence faltering as your gaze held hers, the air thickening with the memory of what you'd just shared.

You grinned, your hand sliding lower, fingers teasing the soft skin above her vagina, your voice dropping, "But you've got time for… this?" you said, your fingers slipping between her thighs, parting her vagina, still wet from her climax, and circling her clit, slow and deliberate.

"Ahhh…" Her reaction was instant, a sharp gasp, moaned her body jolting with surprise and pleasure, her hand gripping your side, nails digging in, caught off guard but melting into the sensation, her hips shifting toward your touch.

She clung to you, her body pressing close, and then, in a burst of playful intensity, she bit your shoulder, her teeth grazing your skin, not hard but enough to make you hiss, the mix of pain and pleasure sending a jolt through you.

"Y-you're… so unfair," she mumbled against your shoulder, her voice muffled, her lips brushing the bite mark, her nerdy composure crumbling as her moans grew louder.

"Unfair? You're the one biting me," you teased, your voice low, your fingers sliding inside her vagina, warm and tight, curling to find that spot that made her shudder.

Her moans escalated, her hand clutching your back, her breaths ragged as you kept a steady rhythm, your thumb brushing her clit, coaxing her toward another peak.

"Feels good, huh?" you murmured, kissing her neck, sucking gently on her pulse point, her lavender scent filling your senses.

"S-so good," she panted, her voice trembling, her hips bucking against your hand, her nipple brushing your chest as she arched.

"I… I didn't know it could… oh!" Her words cut off, her body tensing as your fingers pushed her closer, her second orgasm building fast, her moans filling the room.

With a final curl of your fingers, Yooyeon came again, a louder cry escaping, her vagina pulsing around your fingers, her body shuddering, her nails digging into your side, her teeth grazing your shoulder once more.

You eased her through it, slowing your movements, kissing her forehead, her cheek, her lips, her taste still on your tongue from earlier, her moan soft against your mouth.

You pulled back, your fingers wet, your penis still in your jeans, the ache intense but secondary to her glow. Yooyeon collapsed against you, breathless, her glasses-free eyes hazy but warm, a shy smile breaking through.

Yooyeon's hazy eyes met yours as she sat up, the blanket slipping to reveal her naked body, her nipples still hardened from your touch.

She crossed her arms, a pout forming on her lips, her voice teasing but with a needy edge. "Hey, you're not being fair," she said, her nerdy lilt tinged with mock indignation. "You've seen all of me, but I haven't seen your penis yet. Come on, show me."

You grinned, caught off guard by her boldness, your hand sliding to her thigh, teasing the warm skin. "Make me," you said, your voice low, a playful challenge, leaning back against the headboard, your jeans still on, the bulge of your erect penis obvious but hidden, testing her reaction, the heat between you flaring.

Yooyeon's pout deepened, her eyes narrowing, but a glint of thrill flickered behind her nerdy face, her flush spreading to her chest.

"Oh, you're gonna play like that?" she said, her voice dropping, a seductive edge you'd never heard before.

She shifted, opening her legs wide, her wet vagina fully exposed, the sight stealing your breath.

"You want to inside this?" she asked, her tone sultry, her fingers parting her vagina, sliding two inside, moving them in and out with deliberate slowness, her other hand cupping her breast, pinching her nipple, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Your jaw dropped, your penis throbbing harder in your jeans, the sight of Yooyeon, so nerdy, so reserved, transforming into this brazen, seductive version of herself both strange and insanely alluring.

"Emmh…" her moans grew louder, her fingers pumping faster, her breast jiggling as she teased her nipple, her eyes locked on yours, daring you to resist.

"Yooyeon-ah, holy… you're so sexy," you muttered, your voice hoarse, your hand gripping the blanket, torn between shock and overwhelming desire, her boldness unraveling you.

She smirked, a naughty glint in her eyes, her fingers still working her vagina, the wet sounds filling the room. "Still holding that penis?" she teased, her voice breathy, her moans punctuating her words.

You couldn't take it anymore, the ache too much, her seduction too potent. You fumbled with your jeans, unzipping them, revealing your penis, large and rock-hard, still confined by your tight underwear, the fabric straining against your erection.

Yooyeon's eyes widened, her smirk turning wicked, her fingers slowing but not stopping, her vagina glistening with arousal.

"Oh, wow," she murmured, sliding closer, her bare body brushing yours, her hand abandoning her breast to hover near your crotch.

She leaned in, her cheek pressing against your penis through the underwear, the warmth of her skin searing, her lips brushing the fabric in a teasing kiss, drawing a low groan from you.

"This is… bigger than I expected," she said, her voice playful but laced with desire, her kisses trailing along the outline, her breath hot through the thin material.

"Yooyeon, you're…" you said, your voice strained, your hand tangling in her damp hair, the sensation of her lips and cheek against your penis through the fabric driving you wild. Her nerdy innocence, now mixed with this bold seduction, was a side of her you'd never seen, and it was intoxicating, her every move a challenge to your restraint.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours, her fingers still teasing her vagina, her lips glistening from her kisses. "Good?" she said, her voice low, a naughty smile playing on her lips.

"I want you to feel what I felt." She leaned in again, her tongue flicking against the fabric, a soft moan vibrating against your penis, her hand sliding to grip your thigh, anchoring herself as she teased you further.

You groaned, your head tilting back, your penis pulsing under her touch, the tension building to a breaking point. "You're… too good at this, Yooyeon-ah," you said, your voice rough, your hand tightening in her hair, urging her closer, the line between restraint and surrender blurring.

She laughed, a breathy sound, pulling back to straddle your thighs, her wet vagina brushing your leg, her hand still on your thigh, her other fingers slowing inside her. "Still here," she said, her nerdy lilt creeping back, her glasses-free eyes sparkling.

"You're falling apart, huh?" she murmured, her voice a mix of her nerdy lilt and newfound confidence, her lips brushing your penis through the underwear, drawing another groan from you.

She hooked her fingers into the waistband, tugging it down slowly, your penis springing free, large and erect, the tip glistening with precum.

"So… big," her eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping, but her naughty smile returned, her hand wrapping around the base, her touch tentative but eager.

"Yooyeon-ah, you don't have to-," you started, your voice hoarse, wanting to check in, your hands hovering, torn between desire and respect for her pace, your jeans still bunched around your thighs.

"I want to," she cut you off, her voice firm, leaning closer, her breath warm against your penis.

"You made me feel so good. Let me try this." Her nerdy curiosity peeked through, her lips brushing the tip, a soft kiss that sent a jolt through you, your hips twitching involuntarily.

She licked experimentally, her tongue swirling around the head, tasting you, her moan vibrating against your skin, amplifying the sensation.

"Oh, fuck, Yooyeon-ah," you groaned, your head tilting back, the warmth of her mouth overwhelming, your hands instinctively reaching for her head, fingers tangling in her damp hair, wanting to guide her, to feel more of her.

But she froze, her hand shooting up to yank yours away, her grip firm but not harsh, her mouth still wrapped around your penis, her eyes flicking up with a mix of determination and discomfort.

"No guiding," she mumbled, her voice muffled, pulling back slightly, her lips glistening, her hand still stroking your penis slowly.

"I wanna do this my way, okay?" Her tone was soft but clear, her nerdy assertiveness shining through, setting her boundary even in this heated moment, and you nodded, your hands dropping to the sheets, gripping them instead.

"Sorry, got carried away," you said, your voice strained, a sheepish grin breaking through, your hips shifting as she resumed, her mouth taking you deeper, her tongue exploring with growing confidence.

The sensation was maddening, her lips sliding down your penis, her hand pumping the base, her moans sending vibrations that pushed you closer to the edge.

You wanted to grab her head again, to feel that control, but her earlier reaction stopped you, her dislike clear. Instead, you moved your hips, slow and uncertain, trying to match her rhythm, thrusting gently to meet her bobbing mouth.

"Yeah, like that," she murmured, pulling back briefly, her eyes meeting yours, a naughty glint behind her arousal.

"You're not the only one who gets to play." She dove back in, her mouth enveloping your penis, her tongue swirling faster, her hand tightening, the wet sounds and her soft moans filling the room, her breasts swaying slightly with each movement.

You groaned, your hips finding a steadier rhythm, thrusting in sync with her, the sensation losing you, your hands clutching the sheets, your body trembling.

"Yooyeon-ah, you're… too good," you panted, your voice rough, the sight of her nerdy, sweet Yooyeon, now bold and seductive, her lips wrapped around your penis, pushing you to the edge. Her vagina, still wet from her earlier orgasms, brushed your thigh as she shifted, her moans growing louder, vibrating against you.

She pulled back, gasping for air, her hand still stroking, her lips swollen and glistening. "Am I… doing okay?" she asked, her nerdy insecurity peeking through, her eyes searching yours, even as her hand kept you on edge, her thumb brushing the tip of your penis, making you shudder.

"Better than okay," you said, your voice a low growl, your hips bucking slightly, urging her back. "You're driving me crazy."

She smiled, a mix of shy and wicked, and took you back into her mouth, her tongue relentless, her hand pumping faster, the rhythm perfect, your thrusts matching her, the pleasure building to a breaking point.

"Yooyeon-ah, I'm… close," you warned, your voice desperate, your hips moving faster, her moans pushing you over.

She didn't pull away, her mouth and hand working in tandem, and with a final thrust, you came, a loud groan escaping, your penis pulsing in her mouth, the release intense, your body shuddering.

Finally, she pulled back from the blowjob, her lips swollen and glistening, her eyes wide but sparkling with a mix of shyness and mischief.

Your cum, thick and warm, lingered in her mouth, and instead of swallowing, she leaned forward, letting it drip from her lips onto your softening penis, her hand wrapping around the shaft, spreading the slickness with slow, deliberate strokes.

The sensation was electric, your penis twitching, hardening again under her touch, the sight of her nerdy, sweet Yooyeon, now brazenly seductive igniting a fresh wave of desire, your breath hitching.

She looked up, her glasses-free eyes locking onto yours, her hand still stroking, a naughty smile playing on her lips.

"You want to use a condom?" she asked, her voice soft but direct, her nerdy lilt tinged with arousal, her fingers tightening slightly around your penis, keeping you on edge.

You blinked, caught off guard, your heart pounding, your penis fully hard again in her slick grip.

"Am I what? Wanna have sex now?" you asked back, your voice rough, a mix of surprise and caution, your hand resting on her thigh, the warmth of her skin grounding you.

You wanted her so good. God, you wanted her, but her rule, her values, loomed large, and you needed to be sure this was her choice, not a heat-of-the-moment impulse.

She tilted her head, her smile softening but her eyes fierce, her hand slowing but not stopping, her thumb brushing the tip of your penis, making you groan.

"We're on this, right? Don't you wanna?" she asked again, her voice a mix of vulnerability and challenge, her other hand resting on her breast, her nipple still hard, her vagina glistening.

You swallowed hard, your hand sliding to her hip, your thumb tracing circles, trying to stay clear-headed despite the ache in your penis.

"Yooyeon, this is plenty for me," you said, your voice gentle but firm, searching her face.

"We don't have to do this, at least not now. I don't want you rushing into something you'll regret." Your love for her, your respect for her boundaries, outweighed the burning desire, even as her touch drove you wild.

Her eyes narrowed, a spark of defiance flashing, her hand tightening around your penis, her voice sharp but loving.

"You're a man, right? Finish what you started," she said, her nerdy insistence cutting through, her flush deepening, her words a bold push, not out of obligation but a choice to claim you fully.

You hesitated, your hand cupping her cheek, your thumb brushing her swollen lips.

"You sure? This is your first time, right?" you asked, voice low, needing her confirmation, your heart racing at the weight of the moment, your penis throbbing in her grip.

Yooyeon nodded, her eyes softening, a small smile breaking through. "So, make my first time special," she said, her voice steady, pulling your hand from her hip to her chest, her heartbeat fast under your palm.

She shifted, lying back on the bed, her hair fanning across the pillow, her legs parting, her vagina wet and inviting, her body open and ready.

She tugged you gently, urging you to sit up, her hand guiding you closer, her nerdy charm now a potent mix of vulnerability and seduction.

You moved, kneeling between her thighs, your jeans still around your knees, your penis hard and slick from her touch, your hands trembling slightly as you positioned yourself, your heart pounding with love and desire.

"Yooyeon-ah, tell me if it's too much," you murmured, your voice rough, one hand stroking her thigh, the other guiding your penis to her vagina, the tip brushing her wet folds, her gasp loud in the quiet.

"I will," she whispered, her hands gripping your arms, her eyes locked on yours.

You entered her slowly, her vagina tight and warm, her moan mingling with your groan as you moved together, careful and deliberate, her nails digging into your arms, her soft moan mingling with your low groan.

But as you moved, a faint smear of blood appeared on your penis, a stark reminder of her virginity. Your heart clenched, concern overriding the heat of the moment, your eyes snapping to her face.

"Hurt?" you asked, your voice low and urgent, pausing your thrust, your penis still partially inside her vagina, your hand brushing her thigh, searching her expression.

Yooyeon's face flickered with panic, her eyes widening, her lips parting, but she shook her head quickly, her hands tightening on your arms, grounding herself.

"No… it doesn't hurt," she said, her voice trembling, her nerdy lilt strained, her flush deepening as she glanced down, seeing the blood, her panic evident but tempered by determination.

"It's… normal, right? I read about this." Her attempt at rationality, even now, made you smile, but the worry in her eyes spurred you to act with care.

"Yeah, it's normal," you reassured, your voice gentle, your hand cupping her cheek, your thumb brushing her swollen lips.

"But I'm slowing down, okay? Let your vagina adjust. You're so tight, Yooyeon-ah, and I'm… kinda big." You gave a sheepish grin, trying to ease her tension, your other hand stroking her thigh, encouraging her to relax, your penis still hard but motionless inside her, giving her time.

She nodded, her breath hitching, her eyes softening, a small smile breaking through her panic.

"Hmph show off," she teased, her voice shaky but playful, her nerdy charm peeking through, her hands sliding to your shoulders, pulling you closer.

"Just… go slow, please." Her words were a vow, her body relaxing slightly, her vagina loosening around your penis, the blood a faint trace now, her trust in you palpable.

You leaned down, kissing her softly, your lips lingering, your tongue brushing hers, drawing a quiet moan that steadied you both.

"Got you," you murmured, your voice rough, resuming your movement with careful, shallow thrusts, your penis sliding deeper inch by inch, her vagina stretching to accommodate your size, her warmth enveloping you.

Her moans grew softer, less pained, her hips shifting to meet you, her nails grazing your back, urging you on.

"Feels… better now," she whispered, her voice breathy, her eyes locked on yours, the panic fading, replaced by a mix of pleasure and awe.

"You're… really inside me." Her nerdy curiosity surfaced, her lips twitching into a smile, her vagina clenching slightly, making you groan, the sensation intense, your penis throbbing inside her.

Your hands gripping her hips, keeping your thrusts slow and controlled, her nipples still hard from earlier.

"Tell me if it's too much, okay?" You kissed her neck, sucking gently, her lavender scent grounding you, her moans louder now, her body responding, the blood no longer a concern, her vagina slick with arousal.

"I will," she panted, her hands tangling in your hair, her hips bucking slightly, finding a rhythm with you, the moment unfolding with every thrust, her first time a delicate balance of love and desire.

You moved with deliberate care, your penis filling her vagina, her tightness loosening slightly with each thrust, her moans growing louder, her hips bucking to meet you, her body responding with a fervor that matched your own.

Her eyes, free of her glasses, locked onto yours, fierce and trusting, her hands tangling in your hair, urging you deeper, her vagina clenching your penis, the sensation pushing you both toward the edge.

Suddenly, Yooyeon's breath hitched, her body tensing, her nails digging deeper, and with a loud, shuddering moan, "Oh… oh, God," she gasped, her voice breaking, she came, her third orgasm of the night, her vagina pulsing around your penis, her juices flooding, mingling with the faint blood of her virginity, the intensity overwhelming her.

Her body trembling beneath you, her eyes fluttering closed, her head tilting back against the pillow, her nerdy composure shattered by pleasure.

You pulled out slowly, your penis slick with her juices and traces of blood, letting her release flow, the mixture glistening on her thighs, a raw testament to her first time.

You grabbed a tissue from the nightstand, wiping the blood and juices from your penis, your movements gentle but quick, your eyes never leaving her face, checking for any sign of discomfort.

"You okay?" you asked, your voice low and tender, leaning over her, your hand brushing her thigh, your thumb tracing soothing circles.

Your penis, still hard, rested against her leg, the ache intense but secondary to her well-being, your heart pounding with love and concern, the weight of her choice heavy in the quiet.

Yooyeon nodded, her breath heavy, her chest heaving, her eyes opening to meet yours, a shy smile breaking through her flush.

"Yeah… I'm okay," she said, her nerdy lilt strained but warm, her hand reaching for yours, squeezing gently.

"It's… a lot, but good. Really good." Her voice held a mix of awe and reassurance, her vagina still glistening, her body relaxed but spent, the lights highlighting the sweat on her brow, her trust in you unwavering.

You smiled, relieved, kissing her forehead, her lavender scent grounding you. "You're amazing, Yooyeon-ah," you murmured.

You're tossing the tissue aside and positioning yourself between her thighs again, your penis brushing her vagina, now looser but still gripping you tightly as you entered her slowly, her warmth enveloping you, her moan soft but encouraging.

"Still tight," you said, your hands gripping her hips, your thrusts deeper but controlled, her vagina clenching your penis, the sensation intense, her body adjusting to your size.

"Mmmhh…" she panted, her voice breathy, her hands sliding to your back, her nails grazing lightly, her hips shifting to meet your rhythm, her nipples brushing your chest with each thrust.

"It's… easier now," she added, her nerdy curiosity peeking through, her eyes sparkling despite her exhaustion, her vagina tightening around your penis, drawing a groan from you.

You leaned more over her, your hands gripping her hips, your thrusts deepening, the sensation of her vagina clenching your penis pushing you both toward another peak.

"Yooyeon-ah, you feel so good," you murmured, your voice rough, picking up the pace, your penis pumping faster and harder now, the slick sounds of your movements filling the room, her vagina responding with each thrust, her moans louder, more desperate.

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, your chest pressed to her breasts, her nipples brushing your skin, the intimacy overwhelming.

"Oh… oh, yes," Yooyeon moaned, her voice high and breathy, her head tilting back, her hair fanning across the pillow, her nerdy composure shattered by pleasure.

"Don't… don't stop," she panted, her nails digging into your back, her hips bucking to meet your faster thrusts, her vagina tightening around your penis, drawing a groan from you.

You kissed her deeply, your lips hungry, your tongue brushing hers, her moan muffled against your mouth, her lavender scent filling your senses.

"God, Yooyeon-ah, you're… driving me crazy," you groaned against her lips, your arms tightening around her, your kisses trailing to her neck, sucking gently, her moans escalating, her body arching beneath you.

"So tight… so perfect," you muttered, your thrusts harder, her breasts bouncing slightly with each pump, her vagina clenching your penis, the pleasure building to a fever pitch.

"Mmm… it's… so much," she gasped, her voice trembling, her hands tangling in your hair, pulling you closer, her moans a symphony in the quiet.

"I… I love this," she whimpered, her nerdy lilt breaking through, her eyes fluttering closed, her body trembling as you pumped faster, your penis filling her, her vagina slick and warm, the earlier blood no longer a concern, her arousal coating you both.

You felt the pressure building, your penis throbbing inside her, the sensation of her vagina gripping you pushing you to the edge.

"Yooyeon-ah, I'm… I'm gonna come," you warned, your voice desperate, your thrusts erratic, your arms still wrapped around her, your lips finding hers again, kissing her hard, her moan vibrating against you.

You wanted to stay inside her, to lose yourself in her warmth, but caution won out, your mind flashing to her first time, the need to keep her safe.

With a final, deep thrust, you pulled out, your penis slick with her juices, and came hard, a loud groan tearing from your throat as cum spurted across her stomach, thick and warm, reaching up to her underbreast.

Yooyeon gasped, her eyes widening, her body still trembling from her earlier orgasm, her hands gripping your arms, anchoring herself as you shuddered above her, your release intense, your penis pulsing with each spurt.

You collapsed beside her, breathless, your penis softening, the blanket tangling around your legs, your hand reaching for hers, squeezing gently.

"That was… intense. You're really good at this." Her laugh was soft, her flush deepening, her vulnerability raw and beautiful.

You grinned, leaning in to kiss her forehead, her lavender scent grounding you. "You're the amazing one," you said, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand to gently wipe the cum from her stomach and underbreast, your movements tender, your heart swelling with love.

You pushed open the bathroom door, steam curling around you, the small space lit by a single bulb, its light softened by the haze.

Yooyeon sat in the bathtub, the water lapping at her waist, her perky breasts partially submerged, her nipples just visible above the surface, her long hair damp and clinging to her shoulders.

Her glasses were off, left on the bedroom nightstand, and her face flushed from the heat and your earlier love lit up with a beautiful smile, her eyes sparkling with a mix of shyness and joy.

The sight of her, so vulnerable yet so yours, hit you like a wave, your love for her a quiet fire in your chest, the closeness of your relationship now a tangible warmth.

"I've showered twice now," Yooyeon said, her voice playful, her nerdy lilt tinged with a teasing edge, her smile widening as she leaned back, her arms resting on the tub's edges, water dripping from her fingers.

"Would you get in?" She tilted her head, her wet hair cascading over one shoulder, her invitation both sweet and bold, a reflection of the new intimacy you'd unlocked, her confidence growing in the wake of her choice.

You grinned, your heart racing, the sight of her in the bathtub beautiful, yours making you feel lighter than ever.

"I don't know, can I?" you teased, stepping closer, peeling off your boxers, your penis soft but stirring faintly at the sight of her.

You climbed into the bathtub, settling opposite her, the warm water enveloping you, your knees brushing hers, the small tub forcing you close, the intimacy natural and unforced.

Yooyeon giggled, splashing water at you, her laugh bright, her nerdy charm fully back, though her flush betrayed the intensity of what you'd shared.

"Making sure I'm extra clean after… you know," she said, her voice dropping, her eyes flicking down to the water, a shy smile playing on her lips.

You leaned forward, your hand finding hers under the water, your fingers intertwining, the warmth of her skin grounding you.

"You're perfect, clean or not," you said, your voice low, your thumb brushing her knuckles, your eyes locked on hers, the steam curling between you.

"This… us, it's beautiful, Yooyeon-ah. You sure you're okay?" Your concern lingered, the weight of her first time heavy, her choice to give herself to you a vow you'd honor forever.

She nodded, her smile softening, her free hand reaching to cup your cheek, her touch warm and wet. "More than okay," she said, her voice steady, her nerdy lilt warm with love.

"I've never felt closer to you. It's… like we're really us now, you know?" Her words were earnest, her eyes fierce despite her flush, her thumb brushing your jaw, the water lapping at her breasts as she leaned closer.

You pulled her gently, guiding her to straddle your lap, the water sloshing, her vagina brushing your thigh, her breasts pressing against your chest, the intimacy soft but electric.

"Yeah, really us," you murmured, kissing her lips, slow and tender, her moan soft against you, her hands sliding to your shoulders, the bathtub a warm cover you.

"Careful, or I'll need a third shower," she teased, pulling back, her laugh bright, her nerdy charm a spark in the steam, her body warm and close, your love a fire no doubt could dim, etched in the heart of the night.

Yooyeon shifted, turning to lean back against you, her body sliding against yours, her head resting on your chest, her wet hair tickling your skin.

The warmth of her back pressed to your chest, her curves fitting perfectly against you, sent a quiet thrill through you, your arms wrapping loosely around her waist, your fingers brushing the soft skin below her breasts.

She tilted her head, her glasses-free eyes sparkling with mischief, her hand dipping under the water, finding your penis, her fingers wrapping around it with a teasing, experimental touch.

"Look at you, all relaxed," she murmured, her nerdy lilt laced with a naughty edge, her strokes slow and deliberate, coaxing your penis to harden, the sensation amplified by the warm water. "Didn't think I'd get you like this, huh?"

You groaned, your head tilting back, her touch igniting a fresh wave of desire, your penis swelling in her hand.

"Nerdy's become dirty now huh," you teased, your voice low and rough, a grin tugging at your lips as you kissed her temple, your hands sliding to her hips, savoring the contrast of her studious charm and this bold seduction. "Where is she go?"

She giggled, her laugh bright, her strokes growing more confident, her thumb brushing the tip of your penis, making you hiss. "Still here," she said, her voice breathy, her hand moving faster, the water rippling around her wrist.

"Just… learning new experiments." Her playful tone, her nerdy wit, made the moment sweeter, her fingers working you with a rhythm that drove you wild, her breasts swaying slightly with each movement.

"Yooyeon-ah, you're… too much," you panted, your hips bucking slightly, your hands tightening on her hips, the pleasure building fast, her strokes slick and relentless, the water amplifying every sensation.

Her moans, soft and teasing, mingled with yours, her body pressed closer, her head tilting to kiss your jaw, her lips warm and wet, the intimacy raw and electric.

"Gonna… make you lose it," she whispered, her voice a sultry promise, her hand pumping faster, the water sloshing, your penis throbbing in her grip.

With a final, firm stroke, you came, a low groan escaping, your cum spurting into the water, mixing in cloudy swirls, your body shuddering against hers, the release intense, your hands gripping her waist, anchoring you through the waves of pleasure.

Yooyeon slowed her strokes, her smile wicked but tender, her hand lingering on your softening penis, the water now tinged with your release.

"Wow… that's a lot," she said, her nerdy lilt back, a shy giggle breaking through.

She leaned forward, pulling the drain plug, the water gurgling as it emptied, leaving you both exposed, the air cool against your wet skin.

She turned, straddling your lap, her knees on either side of your hips, her vagina brushing your thigh, her breasts pressing against your chest, her hands on your shoulders.

She guiding your hardening penis to her vagina, the tip brushing her wet folds, her eyes locking onto yours, fierce and loving.

"I want this again," she said, lowering herself, her vagina enveloping your penis, warm and still tight, her moan loud in the quiet.

You groaned, your hands sliding to her hips, guiding her gently, her vagina clenching your penis, the sensation overwhelming, her boldness now from her nerdy facade.

Her hips rocked against you, her vagina clenching your penis in a steady cowgirl rhythm, her hands on your shoulders, her moans soft but fervent, the water-slicked tub squeaking faintly beneath you.

"You feel… so good," she panted, her nerdy lilt breathy, her eyes fierce without her glasses, her damp hair swaying with each thrust, her breasts bouncing slightly, her nipples brushing your chest.

"Yooyeon-ah, you're… driving me wild," you groaned, your hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements, your penis throbbing inside her, the sensation of her vagina still tight but looser after her first time overwhelming.

"Keep going like that," you murmured, kissing her neck, your lips sucking gently, her moan louder, her hips grinding harder, the intimacy raw and electric.

She grinned, a naughty spark in her eyes, leaning back slightly, her hands on your knees for balance.

She slowed, lifting herself off your penis, making you groan. She turned, straddling you again in reverse, her back to you, her vagina sliding back onto your penis, her moan sharp as she took you fully, her hips rolling with a new angle, the sight of her curves stealing your breath.

"Fuck, Yooyeon-ah, you're… too much," you said, your voice rough, your hands on her waist, her vagina gripping your penis tightly, her movements bolder, her moans escalating, the tub's edge digging into your thighs, the pleasure building fast.

"Where'd you learn this, huh?" you teased, your hand sliding to her lower back, urging her on, her hair cascading down her spine, her breasts out of sight but her body a vision.

"Internet's good for something," she quipped, her voice breathy, a giggle breaking through, her hips pumping faster, her vagina clenching, drawing a groan from you.

"You like it, don't you?" she added, glancing over her shoulder, her smile wicked, her nerdy wit a spark in the heat, her movements relentless.

"Love it," you panted, your hips thrusting up to meet her, the rhythm perfect, the pleasure nearing a peak.

But she slowed, lifting off again, her vagina glistening with arousal, and crawled forward, positioning herself on all fours, her knees and hands on the tub's slick surface, her vagina exposed, inviting you in doggy-style.

"Yooyeon-ah, you sure?" you asked, your voice low, kneeling behind her, your penis brushing her folds, your hands on her hips, checking in despite the ache.

"Do it," she said, her voice firm, her head turning, her eyes fierce.

You entered her, your penis sliding into her vagina, warmer and looser but still tight, her moan loud, her body rocking back against you, her breasts swaying beneath her.

"Oh… yes," Yooyeon moaned, her voice high, her hands gripping the tub's edge, her vagina clenching your penis, your thrusts faster now, the slick sounds filling the bathroom, her moans a symphony in the quiet.

"Harder," she gasped, her nerdy lilt gone, her desire raw, her hips pushing back, matching your rhythm, the pleasure overwhelming, your hands tightening on her hips, her skin warm under your touch.

"Yooyeon-ah, I'm… close," you groaned, your voice desperate, your penis throbbing, the sensation of her vagina gripping you pushing you to the edge.

"Gonna come," you warned, your thrusts erratic, the pleasure consumed you, her moans urging you on, her body trembling with each pump.

You pulled out just in time, your hand stroking your penis, and Yooyeon spun around, her eyes wide, her face inches from you, her mouth open, ready.

You came hard, a loud groan escaping, your cum spurting across her face, painting her cheeks, her lips, her chin, thick and warm, the release intense, your body shuddering, her gasp soft but thrilled, her beauty raw and unfiltered.

"Fuck, Yooyeon-ah," you panted, collapsing back, your penis softening, your chest heaving, a grin breaking through as you caught her gaze.

"This would've been better if you had your glasses on," you teased, your voice playful, your hand reaching to brush a strand of hair from her cum-streaked face.

She laughed, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, her flush deepening, her smile shy but proud.

"Pervert," she teased, her nerdy lilt back, leaning in to kiss you softly, her lips warm and salty.

Yooyeon shifted in the tub, her body still pressed to yours, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, her nerdy lilt laced with newfound confidence.

She leaned back, spreading her legs wide, her vagina exposed and glistening under the fairy lights, the sight stealing your breath.

"Eat me," she said, her voice sultry, a bold command that hung in the air, her hands resting on her thighs, her breasts swaying slightly, her nipples hard, her flush deepening as she held your gaze.

You raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at your lips, your penis stirring at her brazenness, the contrast of her studious nature and this dirty talk thrilling you.

"Eat me? Where'd you learn that language? That's naughty of you!" you teased, your voice low and playful, leaning forward, your hands sliding to her knees, parting her legs further, your breath warm against her inner thigh, the anticipation electric.

She giggled, her nerdy charm peeking through, but her eyes were fierce, her hand reaching to tangle in your hair, urging you closer. "Maybe I… read it somewhere," she quipped, her voice breathy, her flush spreading to her chest.

You didn't hesitate, diving in, your tongue flicking against her clit, tasting her sharp, sweet juices, her moan loud and immediate, filling the bathroom.

"Oh… fuck, this is so good!" Yooyeon gasped, her voice breaking, her hands gripping your hair hard, tugging almost painfully, her hips bucking against your mouth, her nerdy composure shattered.

"This is so good! Fuck, I'm addicted now!" Her explicit words, so unlike her usual reserved self, sent a jolt through you, your tongue swirling faster, sucking her clit gently, the wet sounds mingling with her moans, her breasts heaving with each breath.

"Hey, language!" you teased, pulling back briefly, your lips glistening, your voice playful but rough, your eyes meeting hers, a grin breaking through as you kissed her inner thigh, her gasp sharp.

"My nerdy girlfriend is long gone now," you added, diving back in, your tongue plunging into her vagina, lapping at her slick folds, sucking harder, her moans escalating, her hands pulling your hair tighter, urging you on.

"Please… fuck me," Yooyeon begged, her voice desperate, her hips grinding against your mouth, her vagina pulsing under your tongue, her arousal coating your lips.

Your penis, already hard again, throbbed at her words, the sight of her so open, so yours driving you to the edge.

You're pulling back, your lips wet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you shifted, kneeling in the tub, your penis brushing her thigh, the anticipation electric.

You guide your penis to her slick vagina, the tip sliding against her wet folds, her gasp loud, her hands gripping your shoulders, pulling you closer.

You shoved your penis into her, her vagina warm and slick, looser now but still tight, clenching your penis as you thrust deep, "Oh… yes!" she moaned, her voice trembling, her nails digging into your shoulders, her hips rocking to meet your thrusts, the rhythm fast and urgent, the pleasure overwhelming, her vagina pulsing, pushing her toward another climax.

"Yooyeon-ah, you're… so perfect," you groaned, your hands gripping her hips, your thrusts harder, the slick sounds filling the tub,

"I'm… cumming…" Her body tensed, her vagina clenching tighter, and with a final, shuddering moan,

"Ahhh…" she came, her fourth orgasm of the night, her juices flooding around your penis, her body trembling, her cry loud and raw.

You slowed, easing her through it, your penis still inside her, your arms wrapping around her, kissing her forehead, her lavender scent grounding you.

You didn't intend to cum again, the ache in your body sated, your focus now on her comfort.

"It's getting late, huh?" you said, your tone gentle, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face, your thumb grazing her cheek, her flush still bright in the dim light.

She giggled, her laugh soft and nerdy, her head tilting to nuzzle your chest, her breasts pressing against you, her voice breathy but teasing.

"Late? I didn't notice," she quipped, her fingers playing with your arm, her smile mischievous despite her exhaustion.

"You've had enough for one night, yeah? Four times is… Olympic-level, even for a biochem geek." You winked, your hand cupping her cheek, your thumb brushing her swollen lips, checking in, the weight of her first time still heavy in your mind, her choice a vow you'd honor forever.

She pouted, her eyes sparkling, but her yawn betrayed her, her body sinking deeper into yours, her nerdy defiance softening.

"Fine, maybe I'm… a little tired," she mumbled, her voice sleepy, her hand squeezing yours, her breasts warm against your chest, her vagina brushing your thigh as she shifted, the intimacy soft and unforced.

"Let's get some sleep, Yooyeon-ah," you said, your voice low and tender, easing her off your lap, helping her stand, your hands steadying her as the tub's slick surface made her wobble, her laugh bright despite the late hour.

Morning crept into your small apartment, soft sunlight filtering through the thin curtains, mingling with the faint glow of the fairy lights still strung across the bedroom, their golden hue a quiet reminder of the night before.

You stirred in bed, the thin blanket tangled around your legs, Yooyeon's naked body curled against your side, her head nestled in the crook of your arm, her breaths slow and steady.

Her long hair fanned across your chest, her glasses still on the nightstand, her face peaceful in sleep, a faint flush on her cheeks from the night's intensity.

Your love, forged through four years and now deepened by this raw vulnerability, burned stronger than her family's doubts, a vow etched in the heart of the night.

You shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, your hand brushing her waist, the soft curve of her hip grounding you.

Yooyeon stirred, a soft hum escaping her, her eyes fluttering open, glasses-free and hazy with sleep, her smile slow but radiant as she met your gaze.

"Morning," she mumbled, her nerdy lilt soft, her voice still thick with drowsiness, her hand sliding to your chest, fingers tracing lazy circles, her flush deepening as she registered your closeness, the blanket barely covering her breasts, her nipple peeking out.

"Morning, Yooyeon-ah," you said, your voice low, a grin tugging at your lips as you kissed her forehead, her lavender scent grounding you, the sunlight catching the strands of her hair.

"Sleep okay after… all that?" you teased, your hand resting on her waist, your thumb brushing her skin.

She giggled, burying her face in your chest, her nerdy laugh muffled, her flush spreading to her ears. "I'm… sore," she admitted, her voice shy but playful, peeking up at you, her smile a mix of pride and embarrassment.

"But I slept like a rock. You wore me out, you know? Four times, really?" Her teasing was light, her nerdy wit shining through, her fingers poking your side, her vulnerability raw and beautiful.

You laughed, pulling her closer, your arms wrapping around her, her body warm against yours, the blanket slipping lower, exposing more of her skin to the morning light.

"You were the one going wild, Yooyeon-ah," you teased, your voice warm, your lips brushing her temple.

"Calling me a pervert, saying 'eat me' where's she now, huh?" Your grin widened, your hand sliding to her lower back, the intimacy soft but electric.

"She's… on a break," Yooyeon quipped, her voice breathy, her smile mischievous as she propped herself on one elbow, her hair cascading over her shoulder, her breast fully exposed now.

Her eyes were fierce, her hand cupping your cheek, her thumb brushing your jaw, her love a fire that dulled her family's doubts.

Your hand covering hers, squeezing gently, your eyes locked on hers, mingling in her gaze.

"You're my everything, Yooyeon-ah. I'm working my ass off for us, you know? For you, for that ring, for our future." Your words were earnest, your heart laid bare, the promise of your love a vow stronger than any paycheck.

She smiled, her eyes glistening, leaning in to kiss you softly, her lips warm and slow, her moan a quiet hum against your mouth.

"I know," she whispered, pulling back, her forehead resting against yours, her breath mingling with yours.

"And I'm studying hard for us too. We're gonna make it, you and me." Her nerdy determination, her love, was a spark in the morning light, her body shifting to straddle your hips, the blanket falling away, her vagina brushing your thigh, the intimacy playful but tender.

"Careful, or we'll never get out of bed," you teased, your hands on her hips, her laugh bright, her nerdy charm a flame that warmed the quiet morning.

"Let's do takeouts, I'm not eating your japchae again," you added, grinning.

"Rude!" she huffed, swatting your chest, her giggle echoing.

You rose together, slipping into loose clothes, her in your oversized shirt, you in sweatpants. The takeouts awaited, the city alive outside, your love a fire burning bright for the future you'd build, step by step, together and true.

#girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #triples smut #male reader smut #male reader #triples yooyeon #triples yooyeon smut

296 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 1 month ago

Note

Have you already listened to tripleS's latest song?

indeed, not used enough for the song, it's still a weird song for me, but freaking love the mv

6 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 1 month ago

Text

Between Members: Couple Dance

tripleS Yubin x Xinyu

words: 3.4k+

Yubin and Xinyu, had stolen the spotlight with a 20-second couple dance.

Sprawled across Yubin's bed, they huddled over her phone. Yubin, her dark hair loose, her soft features, wore a loose hoodie and sweatpants, her legs tucked under her.

Xinyu, her short bob leaned against Yubin's shoulder, her fitted tank top and shorts accentuating her lean frame.

The phone screen glowed with a fan-uploaded clip of their dance, already racking up thousands of views on X.

"Look at us!" Yubin giggled, her voice bright as the video played. In the clip, Xinyu stood in front of Yubin, backing out their fans, while Yubin faced their fans.

Xinyu's hands resting confidently on Yubin's waist, guiding her through a smooth, synchronized sway.

Yubin's hands on Xinyu's shoulders, her smile shy as they moved together, their bodies close, the choreography teasing yet polished.

The crowd's screams were audible, punctuated by Kotone's mocking expression from the sidelines and Yooyeon's 'what are these two doing?' expression, which had the fans more amused.

Xinyu snorted, covering her mouth as the video looped. "Oh my god, we look so extra," she said, her Mandarin accent slipping through in her amusement.

"I didn't realize how close we were standing. And look at Kotone she's so shoked!" She pointed at Kotone's wide-eyed reaction, her gasped face like she'd witnessed a scandal.

Yubin scrolled through the comments, her cheeks flushing as she read aloud. "Yubin and Xinyu invented chemistry!" "This dance is living rent-free in my head!" "Protect Yubin's smile at all costs!" She laughed, her voice tinged with disbelief. "They're going wild over 20 seconds, unnie. And this one says, 'Yooyeon is so me!'"

She glanced at Xinyu, her eyes sparkling. "Did you know the fans would lose it like this?"

Xinyu's blush deepened, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "They really liked it, huh?" she said, her voice soft, her eyes flicking to Yubin's.

"I was so worried I'd mess it up, but you made it easy, Yubin-ah. You just… took charge out there." Her words carried a quiet admiration, her fingers still fidgeting, betraying her lingering nerves.

Yubin's grin softened, her hand resting on Xinyu's knee, a deliberate touch that echoed their dance. "That's 'cause I knew you'd follow my lead, unnie," she said, her voice lowering, a hint of something more intimate creeping in.

"You felt it too, didn't you? The way we moved together?" Yubin's fingers traced a slow circle on Xinyu's knee, her gaze steady, testing the waters.

Xinyu's breath hitched, her eyes darting to Yubin's hand, then back to her face. "I… yeah, I felt something," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, her usual confidence replaced by a shy vulnerability.

"It was… exciting. But, Yubin-ah, what are we doing here?" Her tone was hesitant, but her body leaned slightly toward Yubin, betraying her desire to close the gap.

Yubin's smile turned sly, her hand sliding higher, grazing Xinyu's thigh. "What do you think, unnie?" she murmured, leaning closer, her breath warm against Xinyu's ear.

"The fans saw a spark. Want to see how much brighter it can get?" She pulled back, her eyes locking onto Xinyu's, a silent invitation hanging between them.

Xinyu swallowed, her cheeks flushed, her hands gripping the blanket. "Yubin-ah, you're so bold," she said, a nervous laugh escaping, her voice trembling with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

"What if… what if someone walks in? Or hears us?" Her hesitation was clear, but her eyes lingered on Yubin's lips, her body language betraying her want.

Yubin chuckled, standing to lock the door with a soft click, the sound amplifying the intimacy of the moment. "Door's locked, unnie," she said, her tone reassuring but teasing as she returned to the bed, straddling Xinyu's hips, her hands resting on Xinyu's shoulders, mirroring their dance. "No one's coming in. Just you and me, like on stage. Wanna try it?"

Xinyu nodded, her hands tentatively resting on Yubin's waist, her touch light but eager. "Is this okay, Yubin-ah?" she whispered, her voice steadier now, her eyes sparkling with a mix of nervousness and desire.

Yubin's expression softened, her fingers brushing Xinyu's cheek. "It's okay, unnie," she said, leaning in to kiss her, soft and tentative at first, letting Xinyu set the pace.

Xinyu gasped, then melted into the kiss, her hands tightening on Yubin's waist. The kiss deepened, Yubin's tongue teasing Xinyu's, drawing a soft moan that made Yubin smile against her lips.

"See? Not so scary," Yubin whispered, her hands sliding under Xinyu's hoodie, fingers grazing the soft skin of her waist, echoing their dance's intimacy. Xinyu's breath hitched, her body arching toward Yubin's touch, her hesitation giving way to want.

Yubin tugged the hoodie off, revealing Xinyu's bra, the delicate lace a contrast to her flushed skin. "You're gorgeous, unnie," Yubin murmured, kissing Xinyu's collarbone, her tongue flicking lightly, coaxing another moan.

"Yubin-ah… this is… a lot," Xinyu said, her voice trembling but laced with excitement, her hands gripping Yubin's arms as Yubin's kisses trailed lower, teasing the edge of her bra. "You're sure about this?"

"I think you want this as much as I do." Yubin said, pausing to meet Xinyu's eyes, her tone gentle but firm. "But tell me if you want to stop." Her hand slid under Xinyu's shorts, fingers brushing the damp fabric of her underwear, drawing a gasp from Xinyu.

"I do," Xinyu admitted, her voice barely audible, her hips lifting toward Yubin's hand. "Just… keep going." Her words were a surrender, and Yubin grinned, tugging Xinyu's shorts and underwear off, revealing the slickness between her thighs.

Yubin's fingers circled Xinyu's clit, slow and deliberate, her other hand unhooking Xinyu's bra, freeing her breasts. "So wet already, unnie," Yubin teased, her lips closing around a nipple, her tongue swirling, making Xinyu whimper. "All from our little dance?"

"Yubin-ah, don't tease," Xinyu said, a shy laugh breaking through her moans, her hands tangling in Yubin's hair as Yubin's fingers slid inside, the warmth and tightness overwhelming.

Yubin's movements were confident, her thumb brushing Xinyu's clit as her fingers curled, building a rhythm that had Xinyu trembling, her moans growing louder.

"Unnie, you're so loud," Yubin said, her tone playful, kissing Xinyu deeply to muffle her cries, the memory of their dance Xinyu's hands on her waist, their bodies pressed close fueling her arousal.

With a final curl of her fingers, Xinyu came, a sharp cry escaping into Yubin's mouth, her body shuddering under Yubin's touch.

They lay together, the phone silent. "The WAVs would go crazy if they knew," Xinyu murmured, a shy giggle escaping as she nestled against Yubin.

Yubin laughed, "Let's do more crazy," she said, her voice low and teasing, a bold edge to her tone as she slid off the bed.

She crossed to a small dresser tucked against the wall, her joggers hugging her hips, and opened the top drawer, rummaging briefly before pulling out a sleek, purple dildo, its surface catching the lights' glow.

She turned, holding it against her cheek with a playful grin, her eyes locked on Xinyu's, and gave it a slow, exaggerated lick, her tongue tracing the tip, her gaze never wavering.

Xinyu's eyes widened, a mix of shock and amusement flickering across her face, her cheeks flushing as she sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest. "You are crazy, Yubin-ah," she said, her voice a blend of disbelief and nervous laughter, her Mandarin accent softening the words.

Xinyu tilted her head, her long dark hair falling over one shoulder, her gaze darting between the dildo and Yubin's confident smirk. "But, umm…" She trailed off, biting her lip, her hesitation clear but laced with a curiosity that betrayed her growing intrigue.

Yubin sauntered back to the bed, the dildo dangling casually in her hand, her grin widening at Xinyu's reaction. "Come on, unnie," she teased, kneeling on the mattress, her free hand resting on Xinyu's knee, a gentle, grounding touch.

"You said you felt something during our dance, right? This is just… taking it up a notch. Don't tell me you're not a little curious." Her voice was playful, but there was a sincerity in her eyes, a silent check-in to ensure Xinyu was on board.

Xinyu's breath hitched, her fingers tightening on the blanket, her eyes flicking to the dildo, then back to Yubin's face. "I'm curious, okay?" she admitted, her voice softer, almost a whisper, her flush deepening.

"But… I've never done anything like this, Yubin-ah. What if I mess it up? Or… I don't know, what if it's too much?" Her usual confidence replaced by a shy eagerness, her hands fidgeting as she looked to Yubin for reassurance.

Yubin's expression softened, her hand sliding up Xinyu's thigh, her touch warm and encouraging. "You won't mess it up, unnie," she said, her tone gentle but firm, leaning closer until their faces were inches apart.

"It's just us, like on stage. I'll guide you, and if it's too much, we stop. Deal?" She held up the dildo, twirling it playfully, then set it on the bed, her fingers brushing Xinyu's cheek. "Trust me, this is gonna be fun."

Xinyu nodded, a small smile breaking through her nerves, her hands loosening on the blanket. "Okay, deal," she said, her voice steadier, a spark of excitement in her eyes. "But you're still crazy, Yubin-ah. Where did you even get that thing?" She laughed, the sound easing the tension, her curiosity winning over her hesitation.

Yubin chuckled, her hand sliding to Xinyu's waist, a familiar move of their dance. "A girl's gotta have her secrets," she said, winking, her lips brushing Xinyu's in a soft, teasing kiss. "Now, let's try it."

Xinyu's breath quickened, her body arching toward Yubin's touch, her hesitation melting under Yubin's confident lead.

"Lie back, unnie," Yubin whispered, guiding Xinyu to recline on the bed, the plush blanket soft against her skin.

Yubin shed her own crop top and joggers, then picked up the dildo, her movements deliberate as she straddled Xinyu's hips, her eyes locked on Xinyu's. "You ready?" she asked, her voice low, holding the dildo up, her thumb brushing Xinyu's thigh, coaxing her legs apart.

Xinyu swallowed, her hands gripping the sheets, her eyes wide but eager. "Ready, but… go slow, okay?" she said, her voice trembling with anticipation, her flush spreading to her chest. "And… tell me what to do, Yubin-ah. I want to get this right."

"You'll be perfect," Yubin said, her tone reassuring, leaning down to kiss Xinyu deeply, her tongue teasing, drawing a soft moan. She pulled back, positioning the dildo at Xinyu's entrance, the tip brushing her slick folds, eliciting a gasp.

"How's that?" Yubin murmured, her free hand stroking Xinyu's thigh, easing her into the sensation as she slowly pushed the dildo inside, watching Xinyu's face for any sign of discomfort.

"Oh… Yubin-ah…" Xinyu gasped, her voice breaking, her hips shifting as the dildo filled her, the sensation intense but thrilling, her eyes fluttering closed. "It's… a lot, but…" she said, her voice a mix of nerves and pleasure, her hands reaching for Yubin's arms, grounding herself in the contact.

"You're doing so good," Yubin said, her voice thick with admiration, her movements slow and deliberate, thrusting the dildo gently, her thumb circling Xinyu's clit to heighten the pleasure.

Xinyu's moans grew louder, her body trembling, the fairy lights casting shadows that danced across her skin. "Feel good, unnie?" Yubin asked, her tone teasing but attentive, her eyes never leaving Xinyu's face.

"So good," Xinyu panted, her voice breathless, her hips bucking to meet Yubin's thrusts, her earlier hesitation replaced by a growing boldness.

"Yubin-ah, you're… insane for this," she said, a laugh breaking through her moans, her hands tightening on Yubin's arms, urging her faster.

Yubin grinned, picking up the pace, the dildo sliding deeper, her thumb relentless on Xinyu's clit. "You like this, unnie?" she teased, leaning down to kiss Xinyu's neck, sucking lightly, drawing a sharper moan.

The room filled with the slick sounds of their intimacy, Xinyu's cries echoing, the locked door a barrier against the dormitory's quiet, "Yubin…-ah, I'm…"

Yubin thrusting even faster, making Xinyu's body trembling under her control, "You really like this, huh?" With a final, deep thrust, Xinyu came, a loud, "Yubin…!" shuddering moan tearing from her lips, her body convulsing, her climax overwhelming under the lights' glow.

Yubin eased her through it, slowing her movements, then set the dildo aside, sitting down in front of Xinyu, her breath ragged. "Told you it'd be fun," Yubin said, her voice husky.

Xinyu let out a breathless laugh, her eyes fluttering open to meet Yubin's, a mix of exhaustion and awe in her gaze. "Yubin-ah, you nearly killed me," she said, her Mandarin accent softening her words, her voice tinged with amusement.

"I didn't know it could feel… like that." Xinyu shifted slightly, wincing at the lingering sensitivity, but a spark of determination flickered in her eyes, her earlier hesitation giving way to a newfound boldness inspired by Yubin's lead.

Before Yubin could respond, Xinyu sat up, her movements slow but deliberate, her exhaustion tempered by a sudden urge to reciprocate. "But you," she said, her voice quieter, a shy confidence creeping in, "you haven't had your turn like that."

Xinyu reached out, her hands finding Yubin's shoulders, and with a gentle but firm push, pulled Yubin down onto the bed, reversing their positions. Yubin's eyes widened, a surprised laugh escaping as she landed on her back, the plush blanket soft beneath her.

"Unnie, what's this?" Yubin asked, her tone playful but laced with curiosity, her hands resting on Xinyu's arms as Xinyu knelt over her, her long hair framing her face like a curtain. "Getting bold now, aren't you?"

Xinyu's cheeks flushed, but she held Yubin's gaze, her lips curving into a small, determined smile. "You started this, Yubin-ah," she said, her voice trembling slightly but growing steadier. "Now it's your turn. Fair's fair, right?" Her hands moved to Yubin's crop top, tugging it off with a mix of nervousness and resolve, revealing Yubin's toned torso, her breasts free and glowing under the fairy lights.

Yubin's grin widened, her hands sliding to Xinyu's waist, encouraging but not taking control. "Fair's fair," she agreed, her voice warm with anticipation.

"But you sure you're up for it, unnie? You look like you're still catching your breath." Her teasing was light, but her eyes sparkled with excitement, eager to see Xinyu take the lead.

"I'm sure," Xinyu said, her voice firm despite the flush spreading across her chest. She leaned down, kissing Yubin deeply, her tongue tentative at first, then bolder, drawing a soft moan from Yubin.

Xinyu's hands explored Yubin's body, sliding down to tug off her joggers and underwear, leaving her bare, the sight of Yubin's slick pussy stirring a fresh wave of desire in Xinyu. "You're so… beautiful, Yubin-ah," she murmured, her voice thick with admiration, her lips trailing kisses along Yubin's neck, then lower, teasing the curve of her breasts.

Yubin's breath hitched, her hands tangling in Xinyu's hair, her confidence softening into vulnerability under Xinyu's touch. "Keep talking like that, unnie," she said, her voice breathy, a laugh breaking through as Xinyu's kisses reached her stomach, her tongue flicking lightly, coaxing a shiver.

Xinyu paused, her lips hovering over Yubin's pussy, the scent of arousal intoxicating, her own nerves resurfacing but tempered by her desire to please. "Tell me if I'm doing it right, okay?" she said, her voice soft, glancing up at Yubin, seeking reassurance as she lowered herself, her tongue darting out to taste Yubin, a slow, exploratory lick that drew a sharp moan from Yubin.

"Oh, unnie, you're… so good," Yubin gasped, her hips lifting to meet Xinyu's mouth, her hands tightening in Xinyu's hair. "Just… keep going, like that." Her encouragement spurred Xinyu on.

Xinyu's tongue circling Yubin's clit, slow at first, then faster, her lips sucking gently, the wet sounds mingling with Yubin's moans in the quiet room. Xinyu's hands gripped Yubin's thighs, holding them apart, her confidence growing with each moan, each shudder, as Yubin's pussy grew wetter under her attention.

"Yubin-ah, you're so wet," Xinyu murmured, her voice muffled, a mix of awe and pride as she pulled back briefly, her lips glistening. "Is this… good?" Her eyes flicked up, catching Yubin's flushed face, her head tilted back, her moans low and throaty.

"So good," Yubin panted, her voice breaking, her hands urging Xinyu back. "Don't stop, unnie, please…" Her words were a plea, her body trembling, and Xinyu dove back in, her tongue relentless, her fingers teasing Yubin's entrance, ensuring she was ready. Satisfied with Yubin's slickness, Xinyu reached for the dildo, still lying nearby, its purple surface catching the fairy lights' glow.

"Ready for this, Yubin-ah?" Xinyu asked, her voice a mix of boldness and caution, holding the dildo up, her thumb brushing Yubin's thigh as she positioned it at Yubin's entrance, the tip brushing her folds.

Yubin's eyes fluttered open, a grin breaking through her arousal. "Go for it, unnie," she said, her voice husky, her hips shifting eagerly. "Make me crazy, too." Her encouragement was all Xinyu needed, and she pushed the dildo inside, slow and deliberate, watching Yubin's face for any sign of discomfort, her own breath hitching at the sight of Yubin's pussy stretching around it.

"Oh… unnie…" Yubin moaned, her voice loud, her back arching as the dildo filled her, the sensation intense but thrilling. "Faster, please," she said, her hands gripping the sheets, her body trembling as Xinyu found a rhythm, thrusting the dildo steadily, her other hand circling Yubin's clit, heightening the pleasure.

"Feel good, Yubin-ah?" Xinyu asked, her voice confident now, a smile tugging at her lips as she leaned closer, her tongue flicking Yubin's clit between thrusts, the dual sensation pushing Yubin closer to the edge. "You're so loud, unnie's gonna tease you later," she teased, echoing Yubin's earlier playfulness.

"Shut up, keep going, unnie," Yubin gasped, her voice desperate, a laugh breaking through as her hips bucked, her hands gripping the sheets.

"Unnie, I'm… coming, I… can feel it…" Yubin's body tensing, and Xinyu intensified her efforts, thrusting the dildo deeper, her tongue relentless on Yubin's clit.

"Unnie~!!" with a sudden, sharp cry, Yubin's climax hit, her body convulsing as she squirted, a warm rush splashing across Xinyu's face, the unexpected intensity catching Xinyu off guard.

"Ahhh~!" Yubin's moan was loud, her pussy pulsing around the dildo, her body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed through her.

Xinyu froze, blinking through the wetness on her face, then pulled back, the dildo still in hand, her expression a mix of shock and awe as Yubin collapsed, breathless and trembling.

"Oh my god, unnie, I'm so sorry!" Yubin said, her voice panicked as she sat up, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, her hands reaching for Xinyu. "I didn't mean to… I didn't know that would happen!" Her eyes were wide, her confidence momentarily shattered, her hands hovering as if unsure whether to touch Xinyu or retreat.

Xinyu wiped her face with the back of her hand, then burst into laughter, the sound bright and amused, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Yubin-ah, you're wild!" she said, her voice warm with affection, no trace of judgment.

"That was… wow, I didn't see that coming, but it's kinda hot." Xinyu giggled, leaning forward to kiss Yubin's cheek, her touch reassuring, easing Yubin's embarrassment. "Why you apologized? No worries, okay?"

Yubin's blush deepened, but she laughed, her tension melting under Xinyu's lighthearted response. "You're not mad, unnie?" she asked, her voice softer, a shy smile breaking through as she reached for Xinyu's hand, pulling her closer.

"Why should I be mad?" Xinyu said, her tone playful, brushing a strand of hair from Yubin's face. "You really went all out for our 'crazy,' huh?" She nestled against Yubin, their bodies pressed close.

Yubin's embarrassment faded, her laughter mingling with Xinyu's as they caught their breath, the dildo set aside, the blanket pulled loosely over them. "Unnie, we're a mess," Yubin said, her voice soft, a playful grin on her face as she traced Xinyu's arm.

Xinyu chuckled, her eyes sparkling. "A hot mess, Yubin-ah. WAVs would die for this story." She kissed Yubin's nose, easing any lingering tension.

"No regrets, right?" Yubin shook her head, her confidence returning.

"None. Just… don't tell Sohyun."

Their secret sealed in the dormitory's quiet, a bold, intimate moment etched in the glow of their shared night.

#girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #triples smut #triples xinyu smut #triples yubin smut

56 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 2 months ago

Note

I’m a bit confused with the ending? is it an alternative ending or what is it?

care to read the intro of part 1 again?

5 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 2 months ago

Text

Come And Stay (part 5/end)

tripleS Xinyu, Nien x male reader

words: 6.8k+

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 (end)

A week has passed since that tender morning with Xinyu, where pancakes and a playful talk of adopting a cat stitched your fragile rom-com back together.

You’ve hooked up more with her, rediscovering each other in the bed, on the couch, even against the kitchen counter, each time a step toward rebuilding trust.

But the absence of Mochi’s purring and Dahyun’s presence gnaws at you. Since her angry door-slam, Dahyun’s locked herself in her apartment, not dropping off Mochi, not texting.

Your connection with her is gone, and you’re not sure why, though her hurt, her high school heartbreak you rekindled, is a heavy guess.

You miss Mochi, but Dahyun’s silence is a relief and a regret, a loose thread in your messy script.

It’s a decent Friday, the clock striking 8:00 PM, and you’re alone in the apartment, Xinyu out with more overtime work—or so she said.

You’re coding, the glow of your PC a distraction from the quiet, when a knock at the door pulls you upright. Your heart lifts, hoping it’s Xinyu, home early, ready for another night of tangled sheets.

You open the door, it’s Nien, her sharp bob and cool gaze catching you off guard, a small clutch in her hand. “Can I crash here tonight?” she asks, her voice casual but edged with something you can’t place.

“Where’s Xinyu?” you ask, stepping aside, your brow furrowing. Nien doesn’t answer, brushing past you with a purposeful stride, her clutch landing on the counter.

She flops onto the couch, crossing her legs, her eyes scanning the apartment like she’s taking stock, “How’s it going with Xinyu?” she asks, her tone light but probing, ignoring your question.

You sit across from her, unease creeping in, the absence of Xinyu’s warmth making the room feel colder.

“It’s… okay,” you say, cautious. “We’ve been good, actually. Hooking up more, talking more. Trying to start fresh.” You pause, your eyes narrowing. “Where is she, by the way? She got overtime work?”

Nien’s lips curl into a faint smirk, not cruel but knowing, and she pulls out her phone. “Party. Karaoke. See for yourself,” she says, unlocking her screen and opening her chat with Xinyu.

Nien scrolls, and your stomach drops as she plays a string of short videos—10 seconds, 5 seconds, one 30 seconds long.

There’s Xinyu, drunk, her laughter loud and sloppy, sandwiched between two guys in a dimly lit karaoke room. One’s arm is around her waist, another’s hand lingers on her thigh, her blouse unbuttoned just enough to show the hickeys you left—and new ones you didn’t.

Xinyu is singing, giggling, her head lolling against one guy’s shoulder, the scene a chaotic blur of booze and bad decisions.

“When is this?!” you demand, your voice sharp, anger flaring as the videos loop, each one a stab. You lean closer, your eyes glued to the screen, Xinyu’s drunken grin a betrayal of the promise you sealed a week ago.

“Now,” Nien says, pointing to the timestamp—7:42 PM, barely 20 minutes ago. “See the time? I didn’t join because I knew it wouldn’t be right.” Her voice is steady, her gaze piercing.

“My gut was right, wasn’t it? Xinyu can’t change, won't change." She sets the phone down, the last video frozen on Xinyu’s flushed face, and the silence is deafening.

You sink back, your hands gripping your knees, rage and hurt colliding with the guilt of your own past—Dahyun, Nakyoung, the lies you’ve both buried.

“We promised,” you mutter, more to yourself than Nien, the pinky promise, the pancakes, the nights you’ve spent inside her, all crumbling. “She said no more secrets. No more games.”

Nien shrugs, her cool facade softening with a flicker of pity, the same pity she showed when she first revealed Xinyu’s hookups. “I warned her,” she says, leaning forward. “I told her to stop, to fight for you honestly. But she’s… Xinyu. She loves the thrill, the attention. You’re her home, but she keeps running.”

Her words echo Nakyoung’s advice, the brutal truth you’ve been dodging, and it cuts deeper now, with Xinyu’s drunken laughter still ringing in your ears.

You stand, pacing, the apartment too small for your anger. “What do I do?” you ask, your voice breaking, though you don’t expect an answer.

You think of Dahyun, locked away, her connection to you severed, and wonder if she sensed this chaos, if her silence is her escape. You think of the cat you and Xinyu dreamed of adopting, a silly hope that feels like a mockery now.

“I thought we were fixing it,” you say, turning to Nien, your eyes searching her calm face. “I thought she meant it.”

Nien stands, grabbing her clutch, her expression unreadable. “Maybe she did,” she says, heading for the spare room.

“But meaning it and doing it are different. You decide what’s next. I just needed a place to crash, not a front-row seat to this.” She pauses, her hand on the knob. “I’ll be using your spare room. Let me know if you need me.”

She leaves you alone at living room, the apartment silent except for the hum of your laptop. You grab your phone, tempted to text Xinyu, to demand answers, but the videos—her between those guys, her blouse open, her promises broken—stop you.

You slump onto the couch, the rom-com dead, a tragedy in its place. Xinyu’s out there, drunk, slipping back into her old ways, and you’re here, with Nien’s pity, wondering if love can survive another lie. But tonight, the weight of her betrayal and your own past sins pinning you down.

The sound of running water stops, and Nien emerges from the bathroom, a towel—Xinyu’s towel wrapped tightly around her, accentuating her curves—her toned biceps, sharp jawline, the delicate line of her collarbone. Her damp hair clings to her shoulders, and her presence pulls you from your thoughts, though not enough to dull the pain.

She strides toward you, standing in front of you, her cool gaze locking onto your weary eyes. “Get yourself together,” she says, her voice firm, cutting through the haze. “Xinyu’s not the only woman in this world.” She steps closer, her tone sharp but not unkind. “She’s bad, and so are you when you can’t let her go.”

You meet her gaze, your voice raw, struggling to stay focused despite the way the towel hugs her body, her skin glistening from the shower. “What do you mean?” you ask, the words heavy with frustration.

“I fought for her, Nien. I left Dahyun for good, ended that mess. Knowing Xinyu hasn’t changed, that she’s still… like this, it makes me a... fool.” You hold her eyes, fighting the distraction of her closeness, the towel barely concealing her curves.

Nien’s lips curl into a faint, amused smile, her head tilting as if your words entertain her. Then, without warning, she loosens the towel, letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud.

You freeze, your breath catching, your eyes betraying you as they trace her body—her lean frame, the gentle swell of her breasts, her brownish nipples, the freshly shaved line of her pussy glinting in the low light.

She’s stunning, unapologetic, her skin smooth and inviting, and the suddenness of it short-circuits your brain. “You are a fool,” she says softly, her voice low, teasing, as she steps forward, closing the distance. “Falling for her, over and over.”

Before you can process, she’s sitting on your lap, straddling you, her bare skin warm against your thighs, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Her pussy brushes against you, a deliberate tease, and your body reacts, your cock stirring despite the turmoil in your head.

“Nien, what—” you start, your voice hoarse, but she cuts you off, her fingers grazing your jaw, her eyes locked on yours, daring you to look away.

“Stop thinking about her,” she murmurs, leaning closer, her breath warm against your lips. “You’re stuck, chasing someone who can’t be what you need. Let go.” Her words are a challenge, her body a temptation, and you’re caught, torn between the ache for Xinyu and the raw, immediate pull of Nien’s closeness.

Her nipples brush your chest through your shirt, her pussy pressing against you, and you’re frozen, your hands hovering, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer.

“You don’t get it,” you say, your voice strained, trying to hold onto reason. “I love her, even now. I’m a fool, yeah, but I thought… I thought we could fix it.” Your eyes flicker to hers, then down, her body a distraction you can’t ignore, her shaved pussy a stark contrast to the emotional chaos she’s stirring.

Nien laughs softly, a sound that’s both mocking and gentle, and she leans in, her lips brushing your ear. “Love doesn’t make you a fool,” she whispers, her hands sliding down your chest, tugging at your shirt. “Clinging to a lie does.”

She shifts, grinding slightly, her pussy teasing your hardening cock, and you grit your teeth, the pleasure sharp, unwanted but undeniable. “You’re better than this,” she says, pulling back to meet your eyes, her expression a mix of pity and desire. “Let me show you.”

You’re paralyzed, Xinyu’s drunken laughter from the videos clashing with Nien’s warmth. The air thick with the sting of Xinyu’s betrayal—her drunken laughter in those karaoke videos, her body pressed between strangers, new hickeys blooming where your promises should have held.

Your hands clenched, the images looping in your mind like a taunt. Nien’s words—“Xinyu’s not the only woman in this world”—echo, but they’re drowned by your anger, a raw, burning need to lash out, to make someone feel the chaos Xinyu’s left you in.

Nien’s naked body straddling you, her warm, shaved pussy teasing your hardening cock, her brownish nipples brushing your chest. You’re a fool for Xinyu, but right now, you’re a fool on fire, and Nien’s the one in front of you.

“You think I’m stuck on her?” you growl, your voice low, jagged, your eyes locked on Nien’s, her amused smile fanning the flames. “You think I can’t let go?” Your anger at Xinyu—her lies, her pinky promise broken—surges, and you channel it, not at her, but at Nien, who’s daring you to break free.

You move fast, your hands gripping her hips, pushing her off your lap and onto the couch, her back hitting the cushions with a soft thud.

She gasps, her eyes widening, but there’s no fear—only a flicker of excitement, her lips parting as she lies there, legs slightly spread, her tight pussy glistening in the lamplight.

“You want me to show?” you say, your voice rough, kneeling between her thighs, your hands forcing her legs apart. “Then take.” You’re not thinking, not reasoning—Xinyu’s betrayal is a wound, and you want to punish her, to make her feel this rage, but Nien’s the one here, her body an outlet for the storm.

You dive in, your mouth finding her pussy, your tongue lashing her clit with a hunger that’s more vengeance than desire. She’s tight, wet, her taste sharp and heady, and she moans, her hips bucking against your face, her hands tangling in your hair.

You eat her out fiercely, no gentleness, your lips and tongue relentless, sucking, flicking, driving her wild as you imagine Xinyu watching, feeling this instead.

Nien’s moans grow louder, her pussy clenching under your assault, but you don’t stop—you want her to feel it, to know the cost of pushing you here. “Fuck,” she gasps, her voice breaking, her body trembling, but you’re not done.

You pull back, your fingers replacing your mouth, plunging into her tight pussy, rapid and rough, two fingers curling inside her, hitting her spot with punishing precision.

She cries out, her back arching, her boobs bouncing with each thrust of your hand. Your other hand finds her chest, spanking her firm boobs, the slap echoing in the apartment, her brownish nipples hardening under the sting. She yelps, a mix of pain and pleasure, and you do it again, harder, your anger at Xinyu fueling each strike.

“Look at me,” you snarl, grabbing her chin with your free hand, forcing her to meet your eyes. Her gaze is hazy, her lips parted, but you don’t let up, your fingers still pistoning in her pussy, her wetness coating your hand.

You lean in, crashing your lips against hers, the kiss brutal, all teeth and tongue, a demand for submission. She kisses back, desperate, her hands clawing at your shoulders, but you control it, your grip on her chin tight, your mouth claiming hers as you imagine Xinyu’s face, her lies, her broken vows.

Nien’s moans vibrate against your lips, her pussy pulsing around your fingers, and you push her harder, wanting her to break, to feel the weight of your fury.

You pull back, your hand still working her pussy, her boobs red from your slaps, her breath ragged. “This what you wanted?” you say, your voice low, dangerous, spanking her boobs again, watching them jiggle. “To push me here?” Nien’s too far gone to answer, her eyes fluttering, her body trembling as she nears the edge.

You finger Nien faster, your thumb circling her clit, "Ahhh~ oh my gosh, fuckk!" and she screams, her pussy clenching, cumming hard, her juices soaking your hand as her body convulses.

You slow, pulling your fingers out, her pussy glistening, her chest heaving. She looks at you, dazed, her lips swollen from your kiss, her boobs marked, her body spent.

You stand, your chest heaving, your cock straining against your jeans, and grab Nien’s wrist, pulling her up with a force that makes her stumble.

“Get up,” you growl, your voice low, jagged, no room for hesitation. She looks at you, her eyes wide, a flicker of fear mixing with the haze of her own arousal, but you’re too far gone to care. You drag her toward your bedroom, the same bed where you fucked Xinyu, a nervous “W-wait...” escaping her lips, but you’re beyond reason, your fury at Xinyu a living thing.

You push her onto the bed, her body bouncing against the sheets, her damp hair fanning out, her curves stark in the dim light. She props herself up on her elbows, her brownish nipples hard, her shaved pussy glistening, but that hint of fear lingers in her eyes.

You don’t pause, stripping your shirt over your head, unbuttoning your jeans with shaking hands. Your cock springs free, hard and throbbing, and Nien’s gaze drops to it, her breath catching, her fear sharpening. “Hey wait—” she starts, but you’re beyond reason, your anger at Xinyu a fire that’s consumed you.

“Shut up,” you snap, climbing onto the bed, grabbing her head with both hands, your fingers tangling in her hair.

You force her down, her lips parting as you shove your cock into her mouth, no warning, no gentleness. She gags, her hands pushing at your thighs, but you don’t relent, working your hips faster, deeper, your cock hitting the back of her throat.

“Take it,” you growl, imagining Xinyu’s face, her lies, her drunken giggles, as Nien’s gags fill the room, her eyes watering, her throat constricting around you.

You thrust harder, the wet, choking sounds driving you, your anger pouring out, until she’s clawing at you, desperate for air. You pull out, a string of saliva connecting her lips to your cock, her gasps ragged, her face flushed, her breaths ragged, her moans now a shaky “Oh god,” her fear laced with a wild, trembling thrill.

You don’t give her time to recover. You grab her shoulders, flipping her over, bending her body so her ass is up, her face pressed into the sheets. “You wanted me to show,” you say, your voice a snarl, pinning her down with one hand on her back, your cock brushing her pussy.

“So fucking take it.” You slam into her, hard, her tight pussy gripping you, wet and hot from her earlier orgasm. She cries out, her hands fisting the sheets, her body rocking under your thrusts.

You fuck her relentlessly, each stroke a punishment, not for Nien but for Xinyu, for the fool you’ve been, for the love you can’t let go.

Her pussy clenches around your cock, her moans muffled against the bed, and you grab her hips, pulling her back onto you, deeper, faster.

“This what you wanted?” you hiss, spanking her ass, the crack sharp in the quiet room. She yelps, her body trembling, but she doesn’t fight, her pussy soaking you, her arousal undeniable.

You lean over, pinning her harder, your chest against her back, your cock driving into her, the bed creaking, the headboard thumping. You imagine Xinyu here, feeling this, knowing this, and it fuels you, your thrusts brutal, your anger a living thing.

Nien’s close, her pussy pulsing, her moans turning to whimpers, but you don’t care about her pleasure—you’re chasing your own release, your own escape.

“Fuck, fuck, slow—!” but her pussy clenches, soaking you, her excitement betraying her protests.

You fuck her harder, your cock throbbing, the pressure building, and when you’re on the edge, you don’t pull out. You cum hard, a guttural groan tearing from you, spilling inside her, your thrusts slowing but not stopping, each pulse a defiance of Xinyu’s betrayal.

Nien collapses, her pussy still clenching, her body shaking, and you pull out, your cum dripping from her, the sight raw, undeniable.

Your chest heaves, your cum still dripping from Nien’s pussy as she lies on the bed, her body trembling, her breaths ragged. You just realized what you’ve done. You fucked Nien, hard, unleashing your anger at Xinyu on her body.

You sit back on the bed, your cock softening, your hands shaking as you run them through your hair. “Nien,” you say, your voice hoarse, raw with regret. “I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was angry, fucked up about Xinyu, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t right.” You meet her eyes, expecting anger, tears, or fear, bracing for the fallout of your loss of control.

But Nien surprises you. Her dazed expression shifts, a slow, wicked smile curling her lips, her eyes glinting with something far from hurt—hunger, thrill, maybe even triumph.

She props herself up, her body still flushed from your roughness, and crawls toward you, her movements deliberate, predatory. “Hurt me?” she says, her voice low, teasing, a stark contrast to her earlier yelps.

“You think that hurt? I fucking loved it.” Her words hit like a spark, and before you can respond, she’s on you, climbing your body like a cat, her warm skin pressing against yours, her tongue darting out to lick a slow, deliberate line across your chest.

You freeze, caught off guard, your guilt colliding with the sudden heat of her touch. “Nien—” you start, but she silences you, her lips grazing your nipple, her teeth nipping just enough to make you hiss.

She licks up your neck, her tongue hot and insistent, tasting the sweat of your exertion, her hands roaming your shoulders, your abs, claiming you with a confidence that flips the script.

“You were rough, yeah,” she murmurs against your jaw, her breath warm, her pussy brushing your thigh, still wet, still ready. “But I’m not fragile. And I’m not done.”

She pulls back, straddling you, her eyes locked on yours, her smile dangerous, in charge. “Round two,” she says, her voice a command, her fingers wrapping around your softening cock, stroking it with slow, deliberate pressure.

“I’m calling the shots now.” Your cock twitches, hardening under her touch, and you’re stunned—her shift from trembling fear to bold control is a whiplash you didn’t expect.

She leans down, licking your lips, her tongue teasing before she kisses you, deep and demanding, her hand still working you, her pussy grinding against your thigh, leaving a wet trail.

“Nien,” you groan, your hands instinctively gripping her hips, but she shakes her head, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head, her strength surprising, her boobs bouncing as she moves.

“No,” she says, her voice firm, playful but unyielding. “You had your turn. Now you’re mine.” She releases your wrists, sliding down to lick your cock, her tongue swirling around the tip, tasting your cum and hers, her moans vibrating against you.

She’s relentless, licking every inch, her lips wrapping around you, sucking lightly, then deeper, her eyes flicking up to watch your reaction, reveling in your gasps.

She climbs back up, positioning herself over your cock, her pussy hovering, teasing, before she sinks down, taking you in with a slow, deliberate moan that’s pure excitement, no trace of fear. “Fuck, you’re hard, Xinyu just wasted this,” she breathes, her hips rocking, her pussy tight and wet, gripping you as she sets the pace.

She leans forward, licking your chest again, her tongue tracing your collarbone, her hands digging into your shoulders. “You wanted to punish Xinyu,” she says, her voice a sultry taunt, her hips grinding faster. “But you’re giving me what I want.”

“Giving what you want?” you manage, your voice rough, strained, your cock throbbing inside her as she leans forward, her boobs bouncing, her eyes locked on yours with a wild, almost manic glint. “What do you mean?”

Nien’s smile is wicked, her lips curling as she slows her hips just enough to make you ache, her pussy clenching deliberately, teasing you. “You don’t deserve Xinyu,” she says, her voice low, dripping with conviction, a mix of lust and something—obsession, maybe. “You deserve me.”

The words hit like a shockwave, her riding picking up again, faster, harder, her hips slamming down, her pussy milking your cock with a crazed intensity you didn’t expect.

She’s more unhinged than you imagined, her moans turning to sharp, breathless cries, her hands clawing at your chest, leaving red trails, her body a storm of desire and defiance.

“Fuck, Nien,” you groan, your head spinning, her declaration sinking in. She’s not just taking control—she’s claiming you, rewriting your story, casting Xinyu as the villain and herself as the prize.

Her pussy’s relentless, wet and tight, and you’re powerless under her, your hands sliding to her ass, gripping hard as she rides you like she’s proving a point. “You’re crazy,” you gasp, half in awe, half overwhelmed, your cock pulsing, the pleasure blurring with the chaos of her words.

“Crazy?” she laughs, a wild, throaty sound, leaning down to bite your lip, her tongue darting out to lick the sting. “Crazy for you,” she purrs, her hips never stopping, her pussy driving you wild, her boobs pressed against your chest, her nipples grazing you.

“Xinyu’s a liar, a cheat. Doesn't deserved you, but i am.” She grinds harder, her clit rubbing against you, her moans escalating, a frantic edge to them as she chases her own climax, her body trembling with need.

You’re close, your cock throbbing, the pressure building as her pussy clenches tighter, her riding relentless, “Nien, I—” you start, but she cuts you off, grabbing your face, kissing you hard, her tongue invasive, her moans vibrating against your lips. She’s in charge, and you’re hers, whether you’re ready or not.

“Cum for me,” she demands, pulling back, her eyes burning, her pussy pulsing around you, her hips slamming down with a force that shakes the bed. “Forget her. Give it to me.” Her voice is a command, her riding a frenzy, and you can’t hold back.

You cum hard, a guttural groan ripping from you, your cock pulsing as you spill inside her, hot and intense, her pussy milking every drop.

She screams, her own climax hitting, her pussy clenching so tight it’s almost painful, her body convulsing, her nails digging into your shoulders as she rides out the wave, her moans a wild, triumphant cry.

She collapses onto you, panting, her body slick with sweat, her pussy still twitching around your softening cock. “That’s what I want,” she whispers, her voice hoarse, her lips brushing your ear, a satisfied, almost possessive edge to it.

The apartment is a haze of sweat and spent desire, the air thick with the aftermath of six relentless rounds that have left you and Nien sprawled across the bed.

It’s 1:00 AM, the dim lamp casting flickering shadows over the tangled sheets, you slump beside Nien, your chest heaving, one arm draped over your eyes to block the world, your mind reeling.

Her body, slick with sweat, presses against yours, her boobs soft against your side, you didn’t expect, one who flipped from trembling fear to unhinged control, demanding round after round, each more intense than the last.

“That was…” you rasp, your voice hoarse, cracking under the weight of it all. “What was that?”

Nien turns her head, her damp hair sticking to her forehead, her eyes half-lidded but glinting with a mix of satisfaction and sheepishness.

She catches her breath, a soft, almost embarrassed laugh escaping her lips. “I’ve never done this in a long time,” she says, her voice low, still shaky from exertion. “I… I get out of control when I’m horny. I’m sorry.”

The apology surprises you, a stark contrast to the Nien who rode you like she owned you, who claimed you with every thrust, every lick, every moan that filled the room. Her admission softens her, makes her human again, and you lift your arm, meeting her gaze, seeing the flush on her cheeks, the vulnerability creeping back.

“Sorry?” you echo, your voice rough but tinged with disbelief, a faint chuckle breaking through. “You’re apologizing after that? You…” You trail off, gesturing vaguely at the bed, the sheets a mess, her body marked by your hands, your cum, her own relentless desire.

“You were like a fucking hurricane.” Your words are half-admiration, half-awe, and she laughs again, a lighter sound, rolling onto her side to face you, her boobs pressing against your arm, her hand resting on your chest, tracing idle patterns.

“I know,” she says, her voice softer now, almost shy. “I don’t usually… lose it like that. But you—” She pauses, her fingers circling a faint bruise on your shoulder, her eyes searching yours. “You pushed something in me, and I just… went for it.”

Her smile is crooked, a mix of pride and regret, and you feel a pang, remembering your own anger, how you unleashed Xinyu’s betrayal on her, how she turned it into her own game.

“You okay?” she asks, her tone genuine, her hand stilling, her pussy still warm against your hip.

You nod, lowering your arm, your hand finding her waist, resting lightly. “Yeah,” you say, your voice steadier now. “Just… didn’t expect six rounds. Or you saying I deserve you.”

Nien grins, leaning in to kiss your jaw, her lips soft, a gentle contrast to the frenzy of before. “Got carried away,” she murmurs, her breath warm, her body relaxing against you.

“But you kept up, so… no complaints.” She nuzzles closer, her gasps finally slowing, her hand sliding down to rest on your stomach, her touch grounding you.

The front door swings open, a jarring sound that snaps you upright, your heart lurching. Footsteps—steady, not stumbling—cross the living room, and Xinyu appears in the bedroom doorway, her hair neat, her eyes clear, not a trace of the drunken mess Nien described.

She’s okay, sober, her blouse buttoned, no new hickeys, and the sight of her freezes you. Then her gaze lands on Nien, naked and curled against you, the sheets a mess, the air thick with sex.

Her face shifts—shock, then fury, her eyes narrowing, her voice a low, trembling blade. “You fucked Nien?” she says, stepping forward, her hands clenched. “How could you?”

You’re caught, guilt and confusion crashing in, your body still buzzing from Nien but your heart twisting at Xinyu’s anger.

You sit up, pulling the sheet over yourself, Nien stirring beside you, her eyes widening as she sees Xinyu. “Wait,” you say, your voice rough, scrambling for words.

“Nien told me you were at a party, karaoke, getting drunk with guys. She showed me videos—your blouse open, hickeys, guys all over you. She said it was tonight, around 7:30 PM or something.” You glance at Nien, her face unreadable, and back at Xinyu, whose fury shifts to disbelief, her mouth dropping open.

“Videos?” Xinyu says, her voice rising, sharp with betrayal. “Those are old, you idiot! From months ago, before we moved in together!” She steps closer, her eyes flashing between you and Nien.

“Nien’s lying to you. I told you I’d change, and I have. I was at a work dinner tonight, sober, home early. Check my phone if you don’t believe me.” She pulls it out, tossing it onto the bed, her hands shaking.

You grab it, scrolling through her messages—work chats, a group photo from a restaurant, timestamped 9:00 PM, no chat to Nien, no karaoke, no guys.

Your stomach drops, the videos Nien showed you now a glaring lie, their timestamps suddenly suspect.

You turn to Nien, who’s sitting up now, her earlier vulnerability gone, replaced by a cool, almost defiant smirk. “Nien,” you say, your voice low, a mix of anger and disbelief, “You... you said those were from tonight. You made me think she was cheating again.”

Xinyu cuts in, her voice breaking, tears welling. “She lied because she wants you, you moron! Nien’s been trying to break us up forever. She’s obsessed with you, always has been. I didn’t think she’d stoop this low.”

She glares at Nien, her fists trembling. “You told him I was cheating so he’d fuck you, so he’d leave me. You’re pathetic.”

Nien doesn’t flinch, her smirk fading into something colder, her eyes flicking between you and Xinyu. “Pathetic?” she says, her voice calm, dangerous. “I showed him the truth about you, Xinyu. Maybe those videos were old, but they’re still you. You’re a mess, and he deserves better.” She leans closer to you, her hand grazing your arm, her pussy still bare under the sheet, her boldness unyielding. “He deserves me.”

You pull away, your head spinning, the weight of Nien’s manipulation crashing down. “You used me,” you say, your voice rising, anger flaring at her deception, at how she played your pain to get what she wanted. “You lied to me, to break us up, to… what, what do you want?”

You look at Xinyu, her tears now falling, her face raw with hurt, and your heart twists—she’s been trying, and you’ve betrayed her, fucked Nien six times over a lie.

“I’m sorry,” you say to Xinyu, your voice cracking, standing, pulling on your jeans, your guilt a tidal wave. “I didn’t know. I thought… I thought you were gone again.” You step toward her, but she backs away, her eyes burning with betrayal.

“Don’t,” she says, her voice shaking. “You chose to believe her. You chose to fuck her.” She turns, grabbing her phone, heading for the door. “Fuck this.”

Xinyu turns to leave, panic surges. You can’t let her go, not like this. You lunge forward, catching her arm just as she reaches the counter near the kitchen.

“Xinyu, wait!” you plead, your voice cracking, desperate, pulling her gently but firmly to face you.

She yanks her arm free, her eyes blazing, but she doesn’t move, trapped between the counter and your trembling form.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your words spilling out, raw and frantic. “I fucked up. I’m so sorry. I was wrong—stupid, blind. Please, don’t go.”

Xinyu’s jaw tightens, her tears falling faster, her voice a broken mix of anger and pain. “Sorry?” she snaps, stepping closer, her breath hot against you.

“I’ve had enough, okay? I swore I’d be better. I promised you, promised myself, and I’ve been trying—really trying. But you? You did the same shit, cheating, not trusting me, believing Nien over me!” She gestures toward the bedroom, where Nien remains, her betrayal a fresh wound.

“You fucked my best friend because you thought I was out there screwing around again. How is that fair?”

You drop to your knees, literally, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for balance, your head bowed. “I’m a fool,” you admit, your voice shaking, the truth cutting deep.

“Nien’s your best friend, Xinyu. That’s why I believed her. She showed me those videos, said they were from tonight, and I… I lost it. I thought you broke your promise, that you were gone again. I was wrong, so fucking wrong.” You look up, meeting her eyes, pleading. “I’m begging you, please. I’ll trust you completely from now on, I swear. No more doubts, no more mistakes. I love you.”

Xinyu’s expression wavers, her anger cracking to reveal the hurt beneath, her hands trembling as she wipes her tears. “You don’t get it,” she says, her voice softer now, breaking with vulnerability.

“I’ve been fighting my past, fighting myself for you. This past week, I turned down every guy at the office, every invite, every flirty text. Jihoon, Minseok, all of them—I said no, because I wanted to be better, for you, for us.” She laughs, a bitter, hollow sound, shaking her head.

“And then you do this. You believed Nien’s lies, fucked her, and now you’re begging me to stay? Why should I?”

Her words hit like a punch, the weight of her effort, her struggle, slamming into you. She’s been fighting her old habits—her thrill-seeking, her flirting—while you, swayed by Nien’s manipulation, betrayed her with the one person she trusted most.

You stand, stepping closer, your hands hovering, wanting to touch her but afraid she’ll pull away. “Because I’m an idiot,” you say, your voice low, earnest.

“I didn’t see how hard you were trying. I let Nien get in my head, let my anger take over. But I want us, Xinyu. I want the pancakes, the promises, the cat we talked about. I’ll do whatever it takes—therapy, anything—to prove I trust you.”

Xinyu’s eyes search yours, her tears slowing, her resolve wavering. “I don’t know if I can do this again,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, her hands clenching the counter behind her.

“You hurt me, worse than before. Nien… she broke us, and you let her.” She glances toward the bedroom, where Nien’s silence is a heavy presence, then back at you, her expression raw.

"YOU LET HER BROKE US!!"

She suddenly screamed, a scream that you've never ever heard from her. Her tears, her admission of fighting her past, rejecting office flirtations for you, cut deep, but her fury at Nien, her so-called best friend, burns hotter.

She pulls away, her eyes dark with no longer just hurt—it's something rage boiling her bloods.

Your heart races as she yanks open the kitchen drawer, her hand closing around a knife, the blade glinting in the dim light.

“Xinyu, no!” you shout, lunging to stop her, but she shoves you hard, her strength fueled by betrayal, and your head slams against the counter’s edge, pain exploding, bleeding, your vision blurring as you crumple to the floor.

Xinyu storms toward the bedroom, the knife in her grip, her sobs turning to a guttural scream.

You try to stand, your head throbbing, blood trickling down your temple, but your legs falter.

Through the open door, you see Nien on the bed, naked, scrambling back, her earlier smirk gone, replaced by raw terror.

“Xinyu, please!” Nien cries, her voice high, panicked, her hands raised as Xinyu looms over her. “It was a mistake, I—” Her words cut off with a scream, sharp and piercing, as Xinyu swings the knife, a flash of steel and a sickening thud.

Nien’s cry chokes into silence, her body slumping, the sheets staining red.

You crawl forward, horror clawing at you, shouting Xinyu’s name, but your voice is weak, drowned by the pounding in your head.

Xinyu turns, the knife dripping, her face a mask of anguish and madness, her eyes no longer hers.

“You,” she whispers, stepping toward you, the blade trembling in her hand.

“You let her do this. You did this."

You try to speak, to beg, but she’s on you, her weight pinning you to the floor, the knife at your throat.

“I loved you,” she sobs, her tears falling onto your face, and then the blade moves, a searing pain slicing through you, your breath stopping as darkness swallows you whole.

======================

The ping of your phone jolted you out of the code you were debugging and some daydream, some crazy imagination spinning on your head. It was a quiet Tuesday evening, the kind where the hum of your PC and the occasional creak of your apartment’s radiator were the only sounds keeping you company.

You glanced at the screen, expecting a work Slack notification or maybe a meme from one of your group chats. Instead, it was a name You hadn’t seen in years:

Xinyu.

“Hey, long time no talk! I’m passing through your town tomorrow for some fieldwork. Any chance I could crash at your place for a night? Just need a spot to rest after running around all day.”

Xinyu. High school classmate. Not a close friend, but not a stranger either. You'd shared a few homework, sat near each other in math, maybe exchanged a couple of sarcastic comments about your teacher’s obsession with graphing calculators. Ordinary. That was the word for it. No drama, just… classmates. You hadn’t thought about her in years, not since graduation when everyone scattered like leaves in the wind.

You leaned back in your chair, staring at the text. Your first instinct was to say you were busy—work was hectic, and you wasn’t exactly the “host guests” type.

But then you thought about your spare room, the one you'd set up for the occasional friend who needed a couch to crash on.

It was empty, bed made, pillows fluffed. You're even jokingly called it your “guest suite” when your last buddy stayed over last month.

Plus, Xinyu wasn’t asking for a week-long stay. Just one night. You typed back before you could overthink it.

“I’ve been swamped lately, Xinyu. Sorry, not sure I can swing it.”

You hit send, keeping your expectations low. Xinyu’s always been out of reach; she’ll probably just move on.

Her reply comes faster than you expect, cheerful and unbothered: “Okay, no worries! I’ll crash at my best friend’s place then. Thanks anyway!”

You lean back, a pang of regret mixing with relief. That’s Xinyu—bright, fleeting, never lingering long enough to complicate things.

You set your phone down, trying to refocus on the lines of code waiting on your screen, but your mind’s already wandering, picturing her laugh, her easy charm.

A sharp knock at the door jolts you upright. You shuffle over, half-expecting a delivery guy, and open it to find a girl with a bright smile, her hair tied back in a messy bun.

“Hi! I’m Dahyun, from 138,” she says, her voice warm, almost bubbly. “I’m getting married soon, and I’m inviting the neighbors—130 to 140—to the wedding. Here’s your invite, don’t forget to come!” She hands you a cream-colored envelope, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Oh, wow, congrats!” you say, taking the invitation, caught off guard by her energy. “I’ll definitely try to make it. Thanks for inviting me.”

“No problem!” Dahyun beams, already backing away. “See you there!” She waves and disappears down the hall, leaving you with the envelope and a faint smile.

You close the door, setting the invitation on the counter next to the pizza box, a small spark of something new breaking through your routine. A wedding, huh? Maybe it’s a chance to get out of your head, meet some people who aren’t lines of code or Discord avatars.

Your phone rings, shattering the moment, and you groan when you see the caller ID: Nakyoung, your step-sister.

You answer, bracing yourself. “Hey, step-idiot,” she says, her voice dripping with her usual mix of teasing and impatience. “Transfer me some cash, like, now. I’m in a pinch.”

“Ugh, fine,” you mutter, already pulling up your banking app. “What’s it for this time?”

“None of your business, nerd,” she snaps, but there’s no real venom in it. “Just hurry up.” She hangs up before you can respond, and you roll your eyes, sending the money with a quick tap.

You trudge back to your PC, the glow of the screen pulling you in like a moth. Lines of code blur before your eyes, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, but your mind’s elsewhere.

Wake up, idiot, you think, shaking your head again. That was no Xinyu, Dahyun, Nien in your life, that was just your crazy imagination back there, only Nakyoung as your step-sister but she only called you when she needed money.

======================

A/N:

At first, I did'nt expected this fics became a series, just for one-shot smut. Although, I choose to end this like this because I don't have feel to continue this series again, so I'm sorry if the ending has to be this way 😭 Anyway, thank you so much for anyone who has invested to this series, if you wanna hit me up just messages for send me question!

#girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #triples smut #male reader #male reader smut #triples xinyu #triples xinyu smut #tripleS nien #tripleS nien smut

207 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 2 months ago

Text

Swimming Class

tripleS Hyerin & Chaewon x male reader

words: 6.8k+

“Yo, I found the perfect spot,” Minho said, nudging your shoulder, his eyes glinting with trouble.

You raised an eyebrow, already wary. “What’re you on about, Minho? I’m not creeping on the girls, so forget it.”

The late morning sun glared over the school’s outdoor pool, its surface glinting like scattered diamonds. Sports day electrified the grade 12 boys during swimming lessons, the air heavy with chlorine and restless energy.

You stood at the pool’s edge, black swim trunks damp from an earlier lap, chlorine sharp in your nose.

At 18, a year from graduation, you were quiet, diligent, always blending into the background. “No fun,” the girls teased, their giggles trailing you. Reserved but kind, you lingered on the sidelines, still unsure of your place in high school.

The pool deck buzzed with energy, and even you felt the pull. Your classmates’ laughter and whispers carried a thrill, their eyes on the girls in swimsuits. You weren’t as bold as the others, but your gaze drifted to two girls: Hyerin and Chaewon.

Hyerin, poised by the diving board, wore a navy one-piece that clung to her pale, lithe frame, outlining her perky breasts and the subtle curve of her hips. Her sharp features and distant demeanor made her magnetic yet untouchable, your eyes lingering despite your composure, a flush creeping up your neck.

Chaewon, vibrant near the shallow end, laughed and splashed, her red swimsuit straining over her curvy frame, accentuating her full breasts and round hips. Her sparkling eyes and teasing smile—“Come on, Mr. Serious, smile!”—left you flustered but warmed. Her infectious energy stirred you, your gaze caught on her, a guilty thrill you couldn’t shake

Minho laughed, undeterred, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Oh, come on, man. It’s the best spot—right by the showers. You can see the girls rinsing off, clear as day. Hyerin’s sleek curves, Chaewon’s… well, you know.” He waggled his eyebrows, gripping both your shoulders firmly, his excitement practically vibrating. “It’s just a peek, dude. Swimming class is only once a month. When’s the next chance you’ll get to see both of them like that?”

Your stomach twisted, a mix of hesitation and temptation. You weren’t like Minho, always chasing thrills or tossing out crude jokes. You were the quiet one, the guy who kept his head down and stayed out of trouble. But the mention of Hyerin and Chaewon sent a jolt through you.

You shifted, glancing toward the pool where Chaewon was splashing a friend, her laughter ringing out, her breasts jiggling with every move. Hyerin, meanwhile, was climbing out, water streaming down her suit, her posture stiff but her body undeniable, the suit tracing every curve.

The thought of seeing them in the showers—water cascading over their bare skin, swimsuits peeled back—made your throat go dry. It was wrong, you knew it, but the temptation clawed at you, Minho’s words fanning the spark.

“I don’t know, man,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck, your voice betraying a crack of uncertainty. “This is risky. What if we get caught?”

Minho’s grin widened, sensing your resolve weakening. “Caught? Nah, it’s foolproof. The spot’s hidden behind the maintenance shed, perfect angle through the shower window. No one’s gonna see us. Think about it—Hyerin’s tight little body, Chaewon’s curves all slick and wet. You telling me you don’t wanna see that?” He gave your shoulders a playful shake, his eyes locked on yours, daring you to give in.

You hesitated, your gaze flicking back to the pool. Chaewon caught your eye for a split second, flashing a teasing smile before diving under, her red swimsuit flashing in the sun, the outline of her pussy searing into your mind.

Hyerin, now toweling off near the benches, glanced your way, her expression unreadable but piercing, like she could see right through you. The thought of them in the showers, unaware, sent a guilty thrill down your spine.

“Fine,” you said finally, voice low, barely believing your own words. “But we’re quick, and if anything feels off, we’re out. Got it?”

Minho’s face lit up like he’d won a prize. “That’s my guy!” he whispered, clapping you on the back. “Let’s move before the lesson ends.”

As you followed him toward the maintenance shed, your heart pounded, a mix of nerves and anticipation.

You and Minho crouched behind the maintenance shed, the splintered wood scraping your shoulder. The narrow window gap into the shower room was exactly as he’d bragged—perfectly angled, offering a steamy glimpse of the tiled space.

Your pulse raced, guilt gnawing at you, but the lure of seeing Hyerin and Chaewon, bare and unguarded, was too strong. Minho’s grin was all mischief, his whisper urgent. “Told you man. Jackpot”

The showers hummed with running water, steam curling in the air. You leaned closer, breath hitching as the scene unfolded. Hyerin stood under a showerhead, her navy one-piece peeled down to her hips, exposing her pale, perky breasts, their soft peaks glistening under the spray. Her wet hair, freed from its ponytail, clung to her shoulders, water tracing her flat stomach to where the suit hung low, outlining her pussy with tantalizing clarity. Her sharp cheekbones and almond eyes were striking, her movements precise, almost detached, her icy beauty pulling you in.

Chaewon stepped in next, her red swimsuit discarded on a bench. She moved under the water, her curvier frame glowing, full breasts bouncing slightly, rosy nipples catching the light. Water slid down her flushed skin, pooling at her round hips, accentuating the exposed curve of her pussy, slick and glistening. She hummed softly, scrubbing her hair, her sparkling eyes and mischievous smile vibrant even now. Her unrestrained energy was electric, and your gaze locked on her, a guilty heat surging through you.

“Man,” Minho muttered, voice low, “Hyerin’s all class, but Chaewon’s just… damn. You good?”

You nodded, throat too dry to speak, the contrast—Hyerin’s elegance, Chaewon’s wildness—holding you captive.

But then, a sharp intake of breath shattered the moment. Chaewon’s head whipped toward the window, her eyes narrowing. “What the hell?” she snapped, voice slicing through the shower’s hiss. Hyerin’s gaze snapped up, her expression shifting from distant to razor-sharp, arms crossing over her chest.

“Shit!” Minho hissed, scrambling back. He bolted before you could blink, gravel crunching as he vanished, leaving you alone, frozen in place.

Your stomach plummeted. You tried to duck, but the shed’s shadow offered no cover. The shower room door flew open, and Chaewon stormed out, a towel barely wrapped around her, water dripping from her hair, her breasts partially visible. Hyerin followed, her towel knotted tightly, the outline of her lithe frame still clear, her eyes cold and predatory.

“Gotcha,” Chaewon said, her voice sharp, a smirk curling her lips as she blocked your path. She crossed her arms, the towel slipping slightly, revealing more of her curves. “Mr. Serious, a peeping tom? Didn’t see that coming.”

You stumbled to your feet, face burning, hands raised. “I—I’m sorry, it was a mistake, I—”

“Save it,” Hyerin cut in, her voice low and icy, stepping closer, her almond eyes pinning you like a blade. “You’re disgusting. Think you can just spy on us and walk away?” Her towel shifted, hinting at the curve of her hips, her presence commanding despite her fury.

“I wasn’t… I mean, Minho—” you started, but Chaewon laughed, sharp and bitter, circling you like a shark.

“Minho’s gone, genius. It’s just you now.” She stopped in front of you, close enough that you could smell the chlorine on her skin, her eyes flicking over you, anger mixing with something else—amusement, maybe.

“So, what’s it gonna be? We tell the coach, the principal, maybe the whole school… or you make this right.”

Your heart pounded, panic and shame swirling. “I’ll do anything,” you blurted, voice shaky. “Just… don’t tell anyone. Please.”

Hyerin’s lips twitched, a faint, calculating smile breaking her icy facade. She exchanged a glance with Chaewon, who raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Anything?” Hyerin said, her voice softer now, almost teasing, as she stepped closer, her towel loosening slightly, revealing the edge of her breasts. “Careful what you promise.”

Chaewon tilted her head, her towel slipping further, exposing more of her full curves, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You wanna watch us so bad? Fine. But you’re gonna play by our rules now.” She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear, her voice dropping to a whisper.

Your cock hardened, fear and desire colliding, their control intoxicating. Hyerin’s gaze locked on you, sharp but hungry, her fingers grazing your arm, sending a jolt through you.

“Move,” Hyerin ordered, her tone edged with heat, pointing to the empty changing room nearby. “Don’t make us wait.”

They turned, towels barely clinging, Chaewon’s hips swaying, Hyerin’s steps deliberate, her pussy’s outline teasing through the fabric. You hesitated, your mind screaming to run, but their pull—Hyerin’s icy grip, Chaewon’s fiery tease—was too strong. You followed, cock throbbing, as they led you inside, the door clicking shut.

The changing room was warm, the faint hum of showers lingering. Chaewon spun, her towel dropping, revealing her glistening boobs and bare pussy, her hands on her hips. “Like the show out there?” she teased, stepping close, her fingers trailing your chest, making your cock strain against your trunks. “Let’s see how you handle us up close.”

Hyerin leaned against a locker, her towel loose, exposing one boob and the edge of her pussy, her eyes dissecting you. “Earn our silence,” she said, her voice low, a challenge laced with desire. “Or we ruin you.” She shifted, her towel slipping more, her pussy’s soft curve catching the light.

Chaewon’s hand slid lower, brushing your cock through your trunks, her lips curling as she felt you harden. “Oh, he’s ready,” she purred, pressing closer, her boobs grazing your chest.

Chaewon’s lips curled into a wicked smile, her hand sliding lower, brushing the bulge of your cock through your trunks. “Let’s see what you’re hiding,” she purred, her voice dripping with tease. Before you could protest, she tugged your trunks down in one swift motion, the fabric pooling at your ankles. Your cock sprang free, hard and throbbing, its size catching the light.

Chaewon gasped, her eyes widening, a mix of surprise and delight flashing across her face. “Holy shit,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on your big cock, her fingers hovering as if unsure where to start. “Didn’t expect this, Mr. Serious.” Her voice was playful, but the hunger in her eyes was unmistakable, her boobs heaving slightly as her breath quickened.

Hyerin remained still, her arms crossed tighter, her sharp cheekbones and almond eyes locked on your cock. Her icy facade cracked, a faint flush creeping up her neck, her lips parting slightly. She tried to maintain her composure, but the subtle shift in her posture—her hips tilting, her towel slipping to reveal more of her pussy—betrayed her interest. “Not bad,” she muttered, her voice low, almost to herself, her eyes never leaving you.

Your cock pulsed under their stares, heat flooding your body, shame and desire tangling in your chest. Chaewon didn’t hesitate. She stepped closer, her boobs brushing your arm, and wrapped her fingers around your cock, her touch warm and deliberate. She stroked slowly, her grip firm but teasing, her thumb grazing the tip, sending a jolt through you. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” she murmured, her sparkling eyes flicking up to yours, her pussy glistening as she shifted closer, her curves pressed against you.

You stifled a groan, your hips twitching involuntarily, your mind reeling. “Chaewon…” you managed, voice hoarse, but she just smirked, stroking faster, her fingers slick with your precum.

Hyerin’s gaze burned, her arms uncrossing as she stepped forward, her towel slipping fully to the floor. Her lithe frame was bare now, her perky boobs tight and perfect, her pussy smooth and exposed, a faint sheen of arousal catching the light. She hesitated, her cold demeanor wavering, then reached out, her fingers brushing your cock alongside Chaewon’s. Her touch was lighter, almost tentative, but the contact sent a shockwave through you, her almond eyes meeting yours with a mix of challenge and heat.

“Didn’t think you’d have the balls to let us do this,” Hyerin said, her voice silk and steel, her fingers finding a rhythm, stroking in sync with Chaewon. Her boobs grazed your side, her pussy inches from your thigh, her icy control melting into something rawer. “You’re ours now. Don’t forget it.”

Chaewon laughed softly, her strokes bolder, her other hand cupping your balls, squeezing gently. “Look at him, Hyerin,” she teased, her boobs bouncing slightly as she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. “Big cock, big trouble. You like being our toy, don’t you?” Her pussy brushed your leg as she pressed closer, the heat of her skin dizzying.

Your breath hitched, your cock throbbing under their combined touch, the sensation overwhelming. Chaewon’s playful dominance and Hyerin’s reluctant but growing hunger had you trapped, your body betraying any thought of resistance. The changing room felt smaller, the air thick with their scents—chlorine, arousal, power. Hyerin’s fingers tightened slightly, her strokes more confident, her eyes glinting with a newfound thrill. Chaewon’s smirk widened, her pace relentless, her boobs and pussy a constant tease against you.

“You’re not getting off easy,” Chaewon whispered, her voice a sultry promise, her hand slick with your arousal. “We’re just starting.”

Hyerin’s lips twitched, a rare smirk breaking through, her fingers matching Chaewon’s rhythm, her pussy grazing your hip as she leaned closer. “Prove you can handle us,” she murmured, her tone daring, her boobs pressed against you, her control slipping into desire.

Your cock pulsed, caught in their grip, their boobs and pussies a vivid blur of temptation. You were theirs—completely—and as Chaewon’s strokes quickened and Hyerin’s touch grew bolder, you knew this was no escape. It was surrender, and the thrill of their pleasure was pulling you under.

Chaewon’s smirk was wicked, her sparkling eyes locked on yours as she leaned closer, her breath hot against your lips. Her hand slowing, teasing your cock’s tip with her thumb, making you shudder. Without warning, she pulled you into a deep kiss, her lips soft but demanding, her tongue sliding against yours, claiming you. Her boobs pressed into your chest, her nipples hard, her pussy brushing your leg as she angled closer, her kiss swallowing your stifled groan.

Hyerin’s gaze flicked to Chaewon, a flicker of hesitation crossing her sharp features. Then, as if deciding to match her, she dropped to her knees, her movements deliberate, her perky boobs bouncing slightly. Her eyes met yours, cold but hungry, as she gripped your cock, her fingers cool against your heated skin. “Don’t think this means you’re off the hook,” she murmured, her voice low and edged, before leaning in, her lips parting to take your cock into her mouth.

The sensation hit like a shockwave. Hyerin’s mouth was warm, her tongue swirling around the head of your cock, slow and precise, her lips sealing tight as she sucked, drawing a low moan from your throat. Her hands braced your thighs, her nails digging in, her pussy visible between her parted legs, glistening as she worked you with calculated skill. Her icy demeanor melted into focus, her almond eyes flicking up to watch your reaction, her boobs swaying slightly with each movement.

Chaewon broke the kiss, her lips swollen, a string of saliva connecting you for a moment. She laughed softly, her hand sliding down to cup your balls, squeezing gently, her fingers teasing the base of your cock where Hyerin’s lips didn’t reach. “Look at her go,” she whispered, her voice sultry, her boobs heaving as she pressed herself against you, her pussy hot against your hip. “Didn’t think Hyerin had it in her, huh?” Her other hand tangled in your hair, pulling you into another fierce kiss, her tongue dominating, her moans vibrating against your lips.

Your cock throbbed in Hyerin’s mouth, her suction intensifying, her tongue flicking the underside, sending sparks through you. She pulled back briefly, her lips slick, a faint smirk curling as she stroked your cock with one hand, her saliva coating you. “You’re lucky I’m even doing this,” she said, her voice sharp but breathless, before diving back in, taking you deeper, her throat tightening around your cock, her pussy dripping as she shifted on her knees.

Chaewon’s hand worked in tandem, her fingers massaging your balls, her kisses growing hungrier, her boobs grinding against you. “You’re our toy, remember this” she teased between kisses, her voice a low growl, her pussy sliding against your leg, leaving a wet trail. “Gonna make you beg before we’re done.” Her fingers tightened, her strokes syncing with Hyerin’s rhythm, the dual assault pushing you to the edge, your hips bucking involuntarily.

Hyerin’s eyes narrowed, sensing your strain, and she hummed around your cock, the vibration sending a jolt through you. She pulled back again, her lips popping off, her hand pumping your cock fast, her boobs bouncing as she looked up, her expression a mix of control and arousal. “Don’t you dare cum yet,” she ordered, her voice cutting, before sucking you back in, harder, her tongue relentless, her pussy visibly wetter as she rocked slightly.

Chaewon chuckled, her lips brushing your ear, her hand never stopping. “She’s bossy, huh?” she whispered, her boobs pressed tight, her pussy grinding harder. “But you love it, don’t you? Our little perv, all ours.” Her kiss swallowed your reply, her fingers squeezing, Hyerin’s mouth driving you to a breaking point.

Your cock pulsed, trapped in Hyerin’s hot mouth, Chaewon’s slick hand, their boobs and pussies a blur of temptation. You were theirs—completely—teetering on the edge, their control absolute. As Hyerin’s lips tightened and Chaewon’s kisses deepened, you felt the pressure build, knowing they’d decide when, or if, you’d get release.

Hyerin pulled back, her lips glistening with saliva, your cock popping free, hard and slick. She pumped you slowly with one hand, her almond eyes locking onto yours, a smirk breaking her icy facade. “You’re holding up better than I thought,” she said, her voice low and taunting, her fingers tightening around your cock, her thumb teasing the sensitive tip, making you shudder. She shifted, her pussy dripping, her boobs bouncing as she stood, her lithe frame radiating power. “But we’re not done playing.”

Chaewon broke the kiss, her lips red and swollen, her sparkling eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, he’s definitely not done,” she purred, her hand sliding from your balls to grip your cock, stroking lazily, her boobs heaving as she leaned back, her pussy catching the light, wet and inviting. She glanced at Hyerin, a silent agreement passing between them, her smirk widening. “Let’s make him work for it.”

Hyerin stepped closer, her perky boobs brushing your arm, her pussy inches from your hand. She grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers to her slick folds, her eyes daring you to move. “Touch me,” she ordered, her voice sharp but thick with arousal, her pussy hot and wet under your fingertips.

You hesitated, your cock throbbing, but her grip tightened, pressing your fingers against her clit, a soft moan escaping her lips. “Don’t make me ask twice,” she hissed, her boobs trembling as she rocked against your hand, her control wavering into need.

Chaewon laughed, low and sultry, her hand speeding up on your cock, her strokes firm and teasing. “Look at her, getting all needy,” she teased, her free hand cupping her own boobs, pinching her nipples, her pussy grinding harder against your leg, leaving a slick trail. She leaned in, her lips brushing your neck, nipping lightly, her voice a whisper. “You’re gonna make us both feel good, perv, or we’re telling everyone what a creep you are.”

Your fingers moved on Hyerin’s pussy, tracing her clit, sliding along her wet folds, her moans growing sharper, her hips bucking against your hand. Her perky boobs pressed closer, her nipple grazing your arm, her almond eyes half-lidded but still piercing, holding you captive. “Harder,” she demanded, her voice breathy, her pussy clenching as you pressed deeper, your cock pulsing in Chaewon’s grip.

Chaewon’s strokes slowed, her hand teasing now, keeping you on edge. She stepped back, her boobs bouncing, and climbed onto a low bench, spreading her legs wide, her pussy glistening, pink and open. “Ever taste a pussy before?” she said, her voice dripping with command, her fingers spreading her folds, teasing her own clit. “Get over here and eat me out. Let’s see if that mouth’s good for anything.”

Your breath caught, your cock aching, Hyerin’s pussy still slick under your fingers. Hyerin smirked, pulling your hand away, her juices coating your fingers. “Do what she says,” she murmured, her voice silk and steel, her hand replacing yours on her pussy, rubbing herself as she watched. She leaned closer, her boobs against your side, her lips brushing your ear. “Make her cum, or I’ll make sure you regret it.” Her free hand grazed your cock, a fleeting tease, before she stepped back, her eyes locked on you, her pussy glistening as she touched herself.

You moved to Chaewon, your cock throbbing, kneeling between her spread thighs. Her pussy was inches from your face, wet and inviting, her boobs heaving as she propped herself on her elbows, watching you with a wicked grin. “Go on,” she urged, her voice husky, her fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. “Show me what you’ve got.”

You leaned in, your tongue flicking her clit, tasting her arousal, sweet and sharp. Chaewon moaned, her hips bucking, her pussy grinding against your mouth, her boobs bouncing with each movement. “Fuck, yes,” she gasped, her fingers tightening, guiding your rhythm, her pussy clenching as you sucked her clit, your tongue diving deeper, lapping at her folds.

Hyerin watched, her fingers working her own pussy, her moans soft but growing, her perky boobs trembling as she rubbed herself faster. “He’s not bad,” she said, her voice breathless, her eyes flicking to Chaewon, then back to your cock, hard and neglected. She stepped closer, her free hand gripping your cock again, stroking slowly, her touch lighter than Chaewon’s but deliberate, keeping you desperate. “Keep going,” she ordered, her pussy dripping, her fingers circling her clit in time with your tongue on Chaewon.

Chaewon’s moans grew louder, her pussy soaking your lips, her hips grinding harder, her boobs jiggling as she neared the edge. “Don’t stop,” she panted, her voice breaking, her fingers yanking your hair, her pussy pulsing against your tongue. Hyerin’s strokes on your cock quickened, her own moans mixing with Chaewon’s, her pussy glistening as she rubbed herself, her boobs pressed against you, her control slipping into raw desire.

Your cock throbbed, trapped in Hyerin’s hand, your tongue buried in Chaewon’s pussy, their boobs and pussies a dizzying blur of pleasure. They owned you, their pleasure your only purpose, and as Chaewon’s moans peaked and Hyerin’s fingers tightened, you felt the edge approaching, knowing they’d decide your fate—release or torment—in their cruel, intoxicating game.

Chaewon’s hips bucked, her pussy clenching as she teetered on the brink, but she pulled back, gasping, her sparkling eyes wild. “Fuck, you’re good at that,” she panted, her boobs heaving, her pussy glistening as she slid off the bench, her legs shaky. She glanced at Hyerin, a wicked grin spreading, her lips swollen from your earlier kisses. “Think he’s earned a reward, Hyerin?”

Hyerin’s smirk was sharp, her fingers slowing on her pussy, her perky boobs rising with each breath. She stepped back, her eyes locking onto your cock, hard and slick from her touch. “Maybe,” she said, her voice low and taunting, her pussy dripping as she leaned against the bench beside Chaewon. “Let’s see if he can handle more than his tongue.”

They exchanged a look, a silent agreement, and moved in unison. Chaewon hopped onto the bench, spreading her legs wide, her pussy pink and soaked, her boobs bouncing as she propped herself on her hands. Hyerin mirrored her, sitting beside her, her lithe frame taut, her legs parted, her pussy smooth and glistening, her perky boobs tight and inviting. Their eyes pinned you, their bodies a dual temptation, their control unshakable.

“Choose,” Chaewon said, her voice sultry, her fingers teasing her own pussy, spreading her folds. “Who gets that big cock first? Me or her?” Her boobs jiggled as she shifted, her smirk daring you, her pussy begging for attention.

Hyerin’s gaze was colder, her arms crossed under her boobs, pushing them up, her pussy glistening under the dim light. “Make it quick,” she said, her tone sharp but laced with need, her legs spreading wider, her clit faintly throbbing. “Don’t waste our time.”

Your cock ached, your mind spinning, their boobs and pussies a blur of desire. Chaewon’s bold curves and dripping pussy were tempting, but Hyerin’s icy allure—her taut body, her piercing eyes—pulled you harder. You stepped toward her, your cock bobbing, your decision clear. “Hyerin,” you said, voice hoarse, heat flooding your body.

Hyerin’s lips twitched, a faint smile breaking her facade, her eyes flashing with approval. “Good choice,” she murmured, lying back on the bench, her legs spreading wider, her pussy open and ready, her boobs trembling as she arched slightly. Chaewon chuckled, undeterred, sliding closer, her boobs brushing Hyerin’s arm, her pussy inches from Hyerin’s hip.

You positioned yourself between Hyerin’s thighs, your cock brushing her slick pussy, the heat of her making you shudder. You gripped her hips, her skin cool and smooth, and pushed forward, your cock sliding into her tight, wet pussy, inch by inch, her walls clenching around you. Hyerin gasped, her perky boobs bouncing, her eyes fluttering but holding yours, her control wavering as you filled her. “Fuck,” she breathed, her voice soft but raw, her pussy gripping you like a vice.

You started grinding, slow and deep, your cock plunging into her, her pussy soaking you, her boobs rocking with each thrust. Hyerin’s moans grew sharper, her hands gripping the bench, her icy demeanor melting into pleasure, her pussy pulsing around your cock.

Chaewon wasn’t idle. She climbed over Hyerin, straddling her waist, her pussy hovering above Hyerin’s stomach, her boobs bouncing as she moved. She leaned down, her lips brushing Hyerin’s, then slid forward, positioning her dripping pussy over Hyerin’s mouth. “Your turn to taste me,” Chaewon teased, her voice husky, lowering herself until Hyerin’s tongue flicked out, lapping at her clit. Chaewon moaned, her boobs heaving, her pussy grinding against Hyerin’s lips, her eyes flicking to you, watching you fuck Hyerin.

Hyerin’s tongue worked Chaewon’s pussy, her moans muffled but vibrating against Chaewon’s folds, her perky boobs trembling as you thrust harder, your cock stretching her tight pussy. Chaewon leaned forward, her hands gripping your shoulders, pulling you into a deep kiss, her tongue tangling with yours, her boobs pressing into your chest, her pussy soaking Hyerin’s face. “Fuck her good,” she whispered against your lips, her voice a sultry command, her kiss hungry, her moans mixing with Hyerin’s.

Your cock pounded Hyerin’s pussy, each thrust deeper, her walls squeezing you, her boobs bouncing, her moans stifled by Chaewon’s grinding pussy. Chaewon’s kisses were relentless, her tongue claiming you, her boobs rubbing your chest, her pussy dripping as Hyerin sucked her clit, her tongue diving deeper. The room spun, their boobs and pussies overwhelming, your cock buried in Hyerin’s heat, Chaewon’s lips owning you, their pleasure your only purpose.

Hyerin’s pussy clenched harder, her muffled moans peaking, her body trembling under you, her boobs quivering as she neared the edge. Chaewon’s moans grew louder, her pussy grinding faster, Hyerin’s tongue relentless, her kisses on you fiercer, her fingers digging into your shoulders. “Don’t stop,” Chaewon panted, her voice breaking, her boobs bouncing, her pussy pulsing against Hyerin’s mouth. “Make her cum, then you’re mine.”

Your cock throbbed, Hyerin’s pussy driving you wild, Chaewon’s kiss pushing you further, their bodies a tangle of boobs, pussies, and raw desire. They owned you, their game far from over, and as Hyerin’s pussy tightened and Chaewon’s moans hit a fever pitch, you knew you’d give them everything—or break trying.

Hyerin’s pussy tightened, her body trembling beneath you, her perky boobs quivering as her muffled moans grew frantic. You thrust harder, your cock stretching her, her clit grinding against your pelvis. With a sharp gasp, her pussy spasmed, her climax hitting hard, her walls pulsing around your cock, her juices soaking you. Her body arched, her boobs shaking, her tongue faltering against Chaewon’s pussy as she rode out her orgasm, her almond eyes fluttering shut, her icy control shattered into raw pleasure.

You groaned, your cock throbbing inside her, but you held back, your restraint a desperate act of will. Hyerin slumped back, panting, her pussy still twitching around you, her perky boobs rising and falling, her face flushed. “Fuck…” she breathed, her voice weak, her body spent. She slid off the bench, her legs shaky, her pussy glistening with her cum, her eyes half-lidded but still sharp. “I… need a minute,” she murmured, leaning against a locker, her boobs heaving, her fingers trailing lazily over her pussy.

Chaewon’s eyes widened, her sparkling gaze flicking to your cock, still hard and slick with Hyerin’s juices, not a drop of your own release. “Damn,” she said, her voice low and impressed, her boobs bouncing as she slid off Hyerin, her pussy leaving a wet trail on Hyerin’s stomach. “You didn’t cum? Even with her squeezing you like that?” Her smirk was wicked, her lips swollen from your kisses, her pussy dripping as she stood, her curvy frame radiating confidence. “You’re tougher than I thought, perv.”

She stepped closer, her boobs brushing your chest, her hand wrapping around your cock, stroking slowly, feeling its hardness. “My turn,” she purred, her voice sultry and commanding, her fingers slick with Hyerin’s cum. “I’m gonna ride this big cock, and you’re gonna take it like a good boy. But don’t think you’re in charge.” Her pussy grazed your thigh, hot and wet, her dominance unshakable.

Chaewon pushed you onto the bench, your back hitting the cool surface, your cock standing rigid. She straddled you, her full boobs bouncing, her pussy hovering over your cock, pink and soaked, her eyes locked on yours, daring you to move. “Let's see,” she said, her voice a low growl, her fingers spreading her pussy, teasing your cock’s tip against her clit, making you both shudder. With a slow, deliberate motion, she sank down, her tight pussy engulfing your cock, inch by inch, her walls gripping you, her boobs jiggling as she settled, her moan loud and unrestrained.

“Fuck, that’s big,” she gasped, her pussy stretching around you, her hips rocking slightly, adjusting to your size. She leaned forward, her boobs pressing into your chest, her lips brushing yours, not kissing but teasing, her sparkling eyes burning with control. “Hold still,” she ordered, her voice sharp, her pussy clenching as she started to ride, her hips rolling, her boobs bouncing with each thrust, her pussy sliding up and down your cock, slick and hot.

You gripped her hips, your fingers digging into her soft skin, your cock throbbing inside her, her dominance overwhelming. Chaewon’s movements were fierce, her pussy grinding against you, her clit rubbing your pelvis, her moans growing louder, her boobs swaying, her nipples hard and grazing your chest. “You feel so fucking good,” she panted, her voice breaking, her pussy tightening, her rhythm relentless, her dominance absolute.

Hyerin watched from the side, her perky boobs still heaving, her pussy glistening as she rubbed herself slowly, her fingers circling her clit, her arousal reigniting.

Chaewon’s pussy clenched harder, her moans peaking, her hips slamming down, your cock buried deep, her boobs bouncing wildly. “Fuck, fuck,” she gasped, her fingers tangling in your hair, pulling hard, her pussy pulsing as she rode you faster, her clit grinding, her body trembling. With a loud cry, her orgasm hit, her pussy spasming around your cock, her juices soaking you, her boobs shaking, her eyes rolling back as she collapsed against you, panting, her pussy still twitching.

You groaned, your cock throbbing inside her, your body screaming for release, but you held back, your restraint pushing you to the limit. Chaewon lifted her head, her face flushed, her sparkling eyes wide with surprise and satisfaction. “Holy shit,” she breathed, her pussy still gripping you, her boobs pressed against you. “You still didn’t cum? Fuck, you’re something else.”

Hyerin’s smirk returned, her perky boobs rising as she stepped closer, her pussy wet and ready again. “Impressive,” she murmured, her voice laced with heat, her fingers trailing over your arm, her eyes flicking to your cock, still hard in Chaewon’s pussy. “But we’re not done with you yet.”

The changing room was a blur of heat and moans, the air thick with chlorine, sweat, and arousal. Chaewon slid off your throbbing cock, her pussy still twitching from her orgasm, her full boobs heaving, her sparkling eyes glinting with wicked satisfaction. Hyerin stood nearby, her perky boobs rising, her pussy glistening as she rubbed herself, her almond eyes hungry again after her brief rest. Your cock stood hard, slick with their juices, your body straining, but their control held you back, their dominance absolute.

“Fuck class,” Chaewon said, her voice husky, her boobs bouncing as she grabbed your hand, pulling you toward a pile of gym mats in the corner. “We’re not done with this cock.” Hyerin followed, her smirk sharp, her pussy wet and ready, her lithe frame moving with purpose. The bell rang faintly outside, signaling the next period, but the three of you were locked in, the world beyond forgotten.

Chaewon pushed you onto the mats, your back hitting the soft surface, your cock bobbing. She straddled you again, her pussy sinking onto your cock, her tight walls gripping you, her boobs bouncing as she rode you hard, her hips slamming down. “Take it,” she growled, her voice commanding, her pussy clenching, her full boobs jiggling, her nails digging into your chest. You thrust up, meeting her rhythm, your cock plunging deep, her moans loud and wild, her pussy soaking you.

Hyerin climbed behind Chaewon, her perky boobs pressed against Chaewon’s back, her fingers reaching around to rub Chaewon’s clit, her pussy grinding against Chaewon’s ass. “Harder,” Hyerin ordered, her voice sharp, her eyes locked on your cock disappearing into Chaewon’s pussy, her own pussy dripping as she rocked against Chaewon. Chaewon’s moans peaked, her pussy spasming, her second orgasm hitting fast, her juices flooding your cock, her boobs shaking as she collapsed forward, panting.

Hyerin wasted no time. She pulled Chaewon off, her pussy glistening, and straddled you reverse, her tight pussy swallowing your cock, her perky boobs bouncing as she leaned back, her hands braced on your thighs. You gripped her hips, thrusting up, your cock stretching her, her pussy gripping you like a vice, her moans sharp and desperate. Chaewon knelt beside you, her boobs swaying, her pussy still dripping, her lips claiming yours in a sloppy kiss, her tongue dominating, her fingers teasing your balls.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” you groaned, your cock pounding Hyerin’s pussy, her perky boobs trembling, her walls cl asiaing as she rode you faster, her clit grinding against your pelvis. Chaewon’s kisses deepened, her boobs pressed against your side, her fingers squeezing your balls, her pussy rubbing your thigh. Hyerin’s pussy pulsed, her moans breaking, her third orgasm crashing through, her juices soaking you, her body trembling as she slumped back, gasping.

They switched again, relentless. Chaewon bent over the mats, her boobs pressed into the surface, her pussy spread, inviting. You stood behind her, slamming your cock into her dripping pussy, her full boobs bouncing with each thrust, her moans echoing, her pussy clenching tight. Hyerin knelt beside her, her fingers rubbing Chaewon’s clit, her perky boobs swaying, her pussy grinding against Chaewon’s thigh, her lips nipping Chaewon’s neck. Chaewon’s pussy spasmed, her third orgasm hitting, her screams muffled against the mats, her pussy flooding your cock.

Hyerin took over, lying on her back, legs spread wide, her pussy open and slick. You thrust into her, your cock driving deep, her perky boobs bouncing, her moans sharp, her pussy gripping you as you fucked her hard, your hands pinning her wrists. Chaewon straddled Hyerin’s face, her pussy grinding against Hyerin’s tongue, her full boobs bouncing, her fingers pinching her own nipples, her moans blending with Hyerin’s. Hyerin’s pussy clenched, her fourth orgasm surging, her body shaking, her juices coating your cock.

Rounds blurred together, positions shifting in a frenzy. Chaewon rode you again, her pussy bouncing on your cock, her boobs jiggling, her moans wild. Hyerin took you from behind, her pussy tight, her perky boobs pressed against your back, her fingers teasing your balls. They switched, fucked, moaned, and came, their pussies and boobs a relentless assault, your cock throbbing, your restraint pushed to the limit.

Finally, after countless orgasms for them, your cock couldn’t hold back. Chaewon was on her knees, her pussy spread, your cock pounding her from behind, her boobs bouncing, her moans desperate. Hyerin knelt beside her, her pussy dripping, her fingers rubbing Chaewon’s clit, her perky boobs trembling. “Cum for us,” Chaewon panted, her voice raw, her pussy clenching, her fourth orgasm building. Hyerin’s eyes locked on yours, her voice sharp. “Now.”

You pulled out, your cock slick and throbbing, their faces close, Chaewon’s full boobs heaving, Hyerin’s perky boobs tight, their lips parted, their eyes hungry. You stroked fast, your hand pumping your cock, the pressure exploding. With a groan, you came, thick ropes of cum splashing across their faces, coating Chaewon’s swollen lips, Hyerin’s sharp cheekbones, dripping onto their boobs. Chaewon’s pussy spasmed, her final orgasm hitting as your cum hit her face, her moans breaking, her boobs shaking. Hyerin licked her lips, her eyes glinting, her pussy twitching as she rubbed herself, savoring the moment.

The changing room reeked of chlorine and sex, the air thick with afterglow. Your cock softened, slick with their juices, cum drying on Chaewon’s full boobs and Hyerin’s perky ones.

Chaewon’s pussy glistened, her sparkling eyes glinting with tired mischief as she wiped cum from her lips, grinning. “Fuck, you’re a beast,” she rasped, her boobs heaving, her pussy exposed as she sat cross-legged.

Hyerin stood, toweling her face, her pussy wet, her almond eyes softer but sharp. “This stays here,” she warned, her voice low, her boobs flushed, a faint respect in her gaze.

You leaned back, chest heaving, your cock twitching faintly, shame and thrill tangling. “I won’t talk,” you said, voice rough, meeting Chaewon’s playful stare, then Hyerin’s guarded one.

Chaewon stood, her boobs bouncing, her pussy brushing your leg as she teased, “Good boy. Maybe we’ll play again.” Her wink was a threat, her dominance lingering.

Hyerin turned, her pussy hidden, her voice cool. “Don’t bet on it,” she said, but her eyes lingered, a crack in her icy wall.

The skipped class was over, the mats a mess of their pleasure. Chaewon toweled her boobs, her pussy catching the light, her grin daring. “Get out before we’re caught,” she said, her control unshaken.

You dressed, their cum-streaked faces and dripping pussies burned into your mind, your cock stirring at the thought of class—their knowing glances, their boobs and pussies hidden but powerful.

=======================

The classroom hummed with restless energy, but your heart pounded, your cock stirring at the memory of Chaewon’s bouncing boobs and Hyerin’s tight pussy, their cum-slick faces haunting you.

You hunched over your desk, avoiding eyes, the secret of yesterday’s fuck burning your chest.

Chaewon strutted in, her skirt teasing her thighs, her blouse hugging her full boobs, her pussy a hidden threat beneath. She leaned over your desk, her boobs straining the fabric, her sparkling eyes locking yours. “Sleep well, Mr. Serious?” she whispered, her breath hot, her smirk a blade, making your cock twitch.

Hyerin glided in, her lithe frame commanding, her blouse crisp, her perky boobs and pussy concealed but seared into your mind. She sat diagonally, her almond eyes slicing through you, cold but knowing, a faint smirk curling her lips. “Pay attention,” she mouthed, her voice silent but heavy, her gaze pinning you, her power absolute. Your cock throbbed, shame coiling with desire, their control a noose.

As the teacher lectured, Chaewon’s pen fell, rolling under your desk. She bent low, her skirt riding up, flashing her thigh, her pussy’s heat a ghost in the air. “Oops,” she purred, her fingers brushing your leg, her boobs grazing your knee, her dominance playful but ruthless.

Hyerin’s eyes flicked over, her pen tapping, a warning in her stare, her pussy’s memory a silent command. Their boobs, pussies, and power owned you, the classroom their arena, your submission their prize, their next move a smoldering threat.

#girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #triples smut #male reader smut #male reader #triples hyerin #triples hyerin smut #tripleS chaewon #tripleS chaewon smut

222 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 2 months ago

Text

Come And Stay (part 4)

tripleS Xinyu ft. Nien, Dahyun, Nakyoung x male reader

words: 10.6k+

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 (end)

Two weeks have passed since the chaotic whirlwind of Dahyun’s encounters, and your life has settled back into a semblance of normalcy, a rom-com rhythm with Xinyu that feels almost too good to be true. The guilt from your reckless night with Dahyun her bold offer to be your “second,” lingers like a faint bruise, as does the Nakyoung secret from a month ago, but you’ve managed to bury both deep.

Dahyun’s been around sparingly, dropping off Mochi for cat-sitting when she’s stuck at work, but she’s dialed back, sensing the tightrope you’re walking with Xinyu. Her visits are brief, polite, her smile friendly but distant, and you’re grateful she’s not pushing the dangerous spark from that night. Mochi, however, has claimed you as his part-time servant, strutting into your apartment like a king, leaving grey fur on your couch.

You’re still working from home, your days filled with coding, coffee, and the hum of your PC. Xinyu’s back to her vibrant self, filling the apartment with her laughter and teasing, stealing bites of your snacks while you debug lines of code.

The apartment feels like a safe bubble, your love for Xinyu the plot you’re betting on, even if the weight of your secrets sometimes keeps you up at night.

Meanwhile, across town at Xinyu’s new branch office, it’s a busy Saturday, the air buzzing with the end-of-week grind. Xinyu’s in her element, charming colleagues, juggling tasks, her tailored blazer and confident smile making her the office star.

She’s leaning against a desk in the break room, sipping coffee, when her best friend Nien slides in beside her, her sharp bob and cool, calculating eyes a contrast to Xinyu’s warmth.

Nien’s the office ice queen—aloof to most, but fiercely loyal to Xinyu, her closest confidante since they started at the company. Over late-night drinks and whispered gossip, Nien’s learned all of Xinyu’s secrets, the ones even you don’t know, and what she knows could unravel your world.

Nien stirs her tea, her voice low, teasing. “So, how’s the free-rent boyfriend holding up?” she asks, her lips curling into a smirk. “Still playing house in that cozy apartment?”

Xinyu laughs, rolling her eyes, but there’s a glint in her gaze, sharp and calculating. “He’s fine,” she says, shrugging. “Sweet, nerdy, pays the bills. Keeps the place warm.” Her tone’s light, but there’s an edge, a truth she only shares with Nien.

Xinyu’s been using you—not maliciously, but strategically. The apartment, your stable income, your devotion—it’s a convenient setup, a safety net while she plays the field. She loves you, in her way, but she’s not all in, not like you are. Her heart’s a revolving door, and she’s never been one to lock it.

Nien raises an eyebrow, sipping her tea. “And you’re still… browsing?” Her voice is knowing, a nod to Xinyu’s wandering eye.

The office is a playground for Xinyu—guys like Jihoon from marketing, with his slick hair and flirty texts, or Minseok from accounts, who lingers too long at her desk. They’re drawn to her energy, her beauty, and she doesn’t exactly discourage it. A wink here, a touch there, enough to keep them hooked without crossing lines—yet.

“Always,” Xinyu says, her grin wicked. “Gotta keep my options open. Jihoon’s been dropping hints about drinks, and Minseok’s practically begging to take me to that new rooftop bar.” She leans closer, voice dropping. “But don’t worry, I’m keeping it chill. The boyfriend’s clueless, and I’m not ready to ditch the free rent.”

Nien snorts, her cool facade cracking into amusement. “You’re ruthless, Xinyu. Poor guy’s probably planning your anniversary while you’re out here collecting numbers.” She pauses, her eyes narrowing. “You sure he’s clueless? That neighbor girl—Dahyun, was it?—seemed… close.”

Xinyu’s smile falters, just for a second, her mind flashing to Dahyun’s visit two weeks ago, the way her eyes lingered on you, the cat-sitting excuse that felt too convenient. “Nah, she’s just a neighbor,” Xinyu says, waving it off, though Nien’s comment plants a seed of doubt. “He’s too whipped to try anything. Trusts me completely.” But her voice lacks conviction, and Nien’s smirk says she notices.

“Trust’s a funny thing,” Nien says, stirring her tea again, her tone casual but pointed. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Xinyu. If he catches wind of Jihoon or Minseok—or maybe that neighbors got her own agenda—you’re gonna have to pick a side.”

Xinyu shrugs, but Nien’s words stick, a tiny crack in her confidence. She’s been juggling you, the apartment, and her office flirtations with ease, but the idea of you straying, especially with someone like Dahyun, doesn’t sit well. She’s not jealous—not exactly—but she doesn’t like sharing her toys. “He’s not going anywhere,” she says, more to herself than Nien. “I’ve got him wrapped around my finger.”

Nien doesn’t argue, just sips her tea, her silence louder than words. She knows Xinyu’s game, has seen her charm her way through men before, but she also knows how fragile lies can be.

•

It’s 7:00 PM, and the apartment’s bathed in the dim glow of your bedside lamp, the curtains drawn tight to keep the world out.

Dahyun’s sprawled on your bed, her hoodie discarded, her training pants long gone, her body bare and trembling beneath you.

You’re fucking her hard, your cock buried deep in her tight, wet pussy, each thrust drawing a gasp from her lips.

The bed creaks, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex, and you’re lost in the heat of it—her soft curves, her desperate moans, the forbidden rush of cheating on Xinyu again.

Xinyu’s due home soon, her texts unanswered, and the clock’s ticking, but you’re too far gone to care.

“What time is it?” Dahyun gasps, her voice shaky, her hands gripping your shoulders as you pound into her, her legs wrapped tight around your hips. Her hair’s a mess, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes are half-lidded with pleasure and panic.

You glance at the watch on your wrist, not slowing your rhythm. “6:58,” you grunt, your hips snapping harder, the urgency spiking but not enough to stop. Her pussy’s too good, too tight, and the thrill of fucking her in your bed shared with Xinyu

“Let’s wrap it quickly,” Dahyun urges, her voice breaking into a moan as you hit a deep spot, her nails digging into your back. She’s trying to be practical, knowing Xinyu’s return looms, but her body betrays her, arching into you, begging for more.

“I’m not done,” you say, your voice rough, a possessive edge creeping in. You lean forward, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, your hand sliding to her throat, fingers tightening just enough to make her gasp.

You’ve noticed this with Dahyun—every time you fuck her, you want it rough, want to push her limits, maybe to drown out the guilt or chase the high of her submission.

“Slow down~!” she protests, breaking the kiss, her voice a mix of plea and pleasure, but you pull her back, your lips crashing into hers, silencing her with your tongue.

You thrust faster, deeper, the bed shaking, her moans muffled against your mouth. Her pussy’s gripping you like a vice, each movement driving you closer to the edge, but you’re holding on, wanting to drag this out.

“Please say you love me,” she whispers, her voice soft, vulnerable, cutting through the raw intensity. It’s not the first time she’s asked, and it hits you like a punch—her high school heartbreak, her trust in you, the weight of taking her virginity.

You don’t stop, your hips slamming into her, the pressure building in your cock. You want to give her what she wants, but the words stick, twisted by the truth of your cheating heart and Xinyu’s hold on you—not to mention her own secret, using you for the apartment.

Instead, you lean into the roughness, your hand tightening on her throat, your voice low and gritty. “I love fucking you,” you say, the words harsh but true, a compromise that fuels the fire.

Dahyun’s eyes flash, a flicker of disappointment, but her body responds, her moans louder, her pussy clenching harder. “That’s not the word, but… ahh… faster!” she gasps, her hands pulling you closer, urging you on despite the emotional miss. She’s caught in the same chaos, wanting you, wanting more, even if it’s messy.

You give her what she asks, your thrusts relentless, the slap of skin echoing in the room. You’re rougher now, your hand on her throat loosening but your other gripping her hip, guiding her to meet every thrust. Her gasps turn to cries, her orgasm building, and you’re right there with her, the heat in your cock unbearable. “Fuck, Dahyun,” you groan, feeling her pussy pulse, her body shaking as she comes, her nails raking your back.

You pull out just in time, cumming hard, hot ropes spilling onto her stomach, her chest, marking her as yours in this stolen moment.

She’s panting, her eyes glassy, a mix of satisfaction and something softer—need, maybe, or regret. You collapse beside her, both of you breathless, the clock now past 7:00 PM, Xinyu’s return imminent.

“Shit, we gotta clean up,” Dahyun mutters, sitting up, wiping herself with a tissue from the nightstand. She’s practical even now, her vulnerability tucked away, but her glance lingers on you, searching for something you can’t give.

“Xinyu’s gonna be here any minute,” you mutter, grabbing a stray tissue and tossing it in the bin. Your heart’s racing, not from the sex but from the panic of getting caught.

You spray some air freshener, hoping it masks the sex, and crack the window, the cool evening air a sharp contrast to the heat still clinging to your skin.

Dahyun nods, slipping into her sneakers, her practicality snapping back. “I’ll grab Mochi and go,” she says, but her voice softens, and she steps closer, her hand brushing your arm.

“This… was intense. You meant it, right? The ‘fucking me’ part?” Her eyes search yours, and you see it—the high school heartbreak, the trust she gave you with her virginity, the hope for something more, even if she’s playing it cool with her “second” offer.

You hesitate, Xinyu’s face flashing in your mind, her smile, her secrets. “Yeah, I meant it,” you say, dodging the deeper question, your voice low. “You’re… you’re something else, Dahyun.” It’s not enough, and you both know it, but she forces a smile, nodding.

“Okay,” she says, her tone lighter, masking the hurt. She opens the bedroom door, and Mochi darts in, leaping onto the bed like he’s inspecting your crime scene. Dahyun scoops him up, his grey fur fluffing in her arms. “I’ll text about Mochi tomorrow. Don’t… don’t make this weird, alright?”

“No weirdness,” you lie, your stomach twisting. She heads for the front door, and you follow, your bare feet cold on the floor.

The apartment looks normal—couch cushions straight, kitchen clean—but it feels like a stage, every detail a potential giveaway. Dahyun pauses at the door, Mochi glaring at you over her shoulder, and she gives you a quick, awkward wave. “See ya,” she says, slipping out, the door clicking shut.

It’s 8:00 PM, and the apartment feels eerily quiet.

You’re pacing, the faint whiff of air freshener a paranoid reminder of the frantic cleanup after fucking Dahyun on your bed just hours ago.

You try coding to distract yourself, but each line feels like a countdown to Xinyu’s return—and the risk of her sensing your betrayal.

Past 10:00 PM, a sharp knock jolts you from your anxious haze. You open the door, and there’s a girl, sharp bob and cool, piercing eyes cutting through the dim hallway light.

She’s carrying Xinyu piggyback, your girlfriend’s arms dangling, her head slumped against the girl's shoulder. Xinyu’s blazer is gone, her blouse crumpled, her tie barely hanging on, and the stench of alcohol clings to her.

“I’m Nien, her workmate,” Nien says, her voice steady but laced with something softer—pity, maybe. “Office party got her drunk. I drove her home.”

“Omg, Xinyu, let me—” you start, reaching for her, your heart pounding with relief and dread. She’s safe, but what the hell happened?

Nien shakes her head, brushing past you with a strength that belies her slim frame. “No need. Where’s the bed?” she asks, her tone brisk, like she’s handled Xinyu’s messes before.

You point to your bedroom, the same one where you fucked Dahyun, the sheets barely straightened. “In there,” you say, your voice tight, following her as she strides in. Your stomach churns—Xinyu’s drunk, vulnerable, and Nien’s about to step into the scene of your latest sin.

Nien lays Xinyu gently on the bed, her movements precise but careful, like she’s done this too many times. Xinyu mumbles something slurred, her blouse shifting, and you freeze.

Her neck is a canvas of hickeys—bright red, fresh, glaring. Another peeks from her collar, a brutal mark you didn’t make.

You’ve never been that rough with her, always keeping it soft, loving. Your breath catches, shock and betrayal slamming into your own guilt—your own cheating. Nien’s eyes meet yours, and there’s no judgment, just a quiet sympathy, like she’s seen this wreck coming and feels sorry for you.

You want to demand answers—who did this, what happened—but your throat’s dry, your mind reeling of the office flirtations you’ve only heard whispers of.

Nien straightens, dusting her hands. “Uh, thanks, Nien,” you manage, forcing hospitality to cover your panic. “You need water or anything?”

“No need,” Nien says, her gaze steady, heavy with intent. “But… there’s something you should see.”

She leans down, unbuttoning Xinyu’s blouse with clinical detachment, revealing more skin. Your heart stops. Xinyu’s chest and collarbone are littered with hickeys, some bruising into faint purples, a reckless trail of someone else’s hands.

The marks are raw, nothing like your careful touch. You step back, the sight a gut-punch, your own infidelity mirrored in Xinyu’s betrayal.

Nien steps away, letting Xinyu’s blouse hang open, her drunk form oblivious. “Let’s talk outside,” she says, her tone firm but not harsh, nodding toward the living room. “Let her rest.” Her eyes hold yours, and you sense her pity—not for Xinyu, but for you, the guy who’s been played, unaware of the game.

You nod, following her out, closing the bedroom door softly. The living room feels claustrophobic, Nien perches on the couch arm, her hands clasped, her cool facade softened by a flicker of compassion.

“You saw the marks,” she starts, her voice low. “Those aren’t yours, are they?”

You shake your head, your voice barely there. “No. Never.” The hickeys burn in your mind, a stark contrast to your guilt.

“What happened at the party? Who… who did this?” You’re desperate for answers, even if they’ll hurt.

Nien exhales, choosing her words. “Xinyu’s been… reckless,” she says. “Jihoon, Minseok, maybe others. The party was a mess—too much alcohol, too many egos. She wasn’t pushing anyone away.” Her tone’s careful, but the pity’s clear.

“I’ve seen her do this before, but you… you don’t deserve to be in the dark. She’s been using you, you know. The apartment, your stability. You’re her fallback, not her future.”

The truth lands like a blade, slicing through your love for Xinyu, though your own cheating—makes you no saint.

“Why tell me?” you ask, anger and hurt warring with guilt. “Why now?”

Nien leans forward, her gaze steady. “Because I’m tired of her hurting people who care about her. You’re a good guy, stuck in her game. I thought you should know before it gets worse.” Her voice softens, almost kind. “You need to decide what you’re doing here, because she won’t stop.”

Nien pulls out her phone, her fingers moving with purpose. “You need to see this,” she says, her voice low, not cruel but resolute, like she’s ripping off a bandage. “I’ve been holding onto these for a while, but you deserve the truth.”

She opens her chat with Xinyu, scrolling to a thread dated weeks ago, and your stomach churns as she tilts the screen toward you. Messages pop up—Xinyu’s flirty texts, winking emojis, and vague plans to “meet up” with Jihoon after work. Another thread with Minseok, her teasing him about “last time” being “too quick,” followed by a suggestive “round two soon?” Your chest tightens, anger bubbling, but Nien’s not done.

She swipes to photos Xinyu sent her, and your breath catches. The first is Xinyu in a dimly lit bar, Jihoon’s arm around her, her lips on his neck, his hand low on her hip.

Another shows her in a hotel room, Minseok’s shirt half-off, her blouse unbuttoned, a hickey on her collarbone matching the ones you just saw. The last is worse—a blurry shot of Xinyu straddling some guy you don’t recognize, her skirt hiked up, his hands gripping her thighs, her head thrown back in a way that screams more than flirtation. “These were from different nights,” Nien says, her tone steady but heavy with sympathy. “She’s been… busy.”

You stare at the screen, your hands shaking, rage surging like a tidal wave. “What the fuck,” you mutter, your voice cracking.

You want to storm into the bedroom, shake her awake, demand answers. She’s been using you for the apartment, for stability, while fucking half the office, leaving hickeys and bruises as trophies.

Your fists clench, the urge to confront her overwhelming, but then it hits you—your own guilt, a mirror held up to your anger. Nakyoung, a month ago, her teasing “just having fun” on your couch, your cum on her stomach. Dahyun, barely an hours ago, her tight pussy clenching around you, her plea for love you dodged with a rough “I love fucking you.” You’re no saint, and the realization chokes your rage, turning it inward.

Nien sets her phone down, watching you closely, her pity clearer now. “I didn’t show you this to hurt you,” she says, leaning forward. “I just… I knew you’re a good guy, and Xinyu’s playing you like a pawn. I’ve seen her do it before, but you’re different. You care about her, and she’s taking advantage of that.” Her voice softens, almost gentle. “She’s not gonna stop unless you make her.”

You sink onto the couch, your head in your hands, the anger and guilt colliding in a messy storm. “I… I don’t even know what to say,” you admit, your voice muffled.

Xinyu’s photos—Jihoon, Minseok, the stranger—flash in your mind, each one a stab, but they’re matched by your own sins. The bed you just fucked Dahyun on. You’re as much a liar as Xinyu, your rom-com dreams built on the same shaky lies she’s spinning.

“How long’s she been doing this?” you ask, lifting your head, needing something to anchor your spiraling thoughts.

Nien sighs, crossing her arms. “Since before you moved in together,” she says. “Jihoon was first, then Minseok. The other guy… I don’t know his name, some client from a meeting. She’s careful, keeps it quiet, but she brags to me because she knows I won’t snitch.” Her lips press into a thin line. “Until now. I’m done covering for her.”

Your anger flares again, hot and sharp, but it’s tangled with shame. You want to hate Xinyu, to see her as the villain, but you’re staring at your own reflection—cheating, lying, hiding. “She’s… she’s just like me,” you mutter, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Nien tilts her head, confused, but you don’t elaborate, the weights are too raw to confess. Instead, you ask, “What do I do? Confront her? End it?”

Nien stands, her cool facade back in place, but her eyes linger on you, soft with pity. “That’s up to you,” she says. “She’s drunk, out of it. Wait till she’s sober, then decide if you want to fight for this or walk away. But don’t let her keep using you. You’re worth more than that.” She heads for the door, pausing. “I’ll let myself out. Take care of her tonight, but… take care of yourself too.”

The door clicks shut, leaving you alone. You check on Xinyu, still passed out, her hickeys glaring under the lamplight.

Your anger simmers, but it’s mirrored by guilt, your own betrayals mocking your right to judge. You cover Xinyu with a blanket, your hands shaking, and collapse on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Your live is a twisted tragedy now, your love for Xinyu and your sins with Dahyun and Nakyoung colliding in a script you can’t rewrite.

======================

Sunday morning breaks with a soft glow through the apartment’s curtains, but the warmth does nothing to ease the cold knot in your chest.

You’re at your desk, PC turn on, lines of code blurring as you try to debug it, but focus is a lost cause.

You’ve been up since dawn, the events of last night replaying like a bad movie, Nien carrying a drunk Xinyu home. You’re no better than Xinyu, and the hypocrisy fuels a restless anger you can’t shake.

Xinyu’s sprawled across your bed, still in her wrinkled blouse from the office party, her tie discarded, her breathing slow and heavy.

The hickeys on her neck glare in the morning light, a brutal reminder of her betrayal. You’ve checked on her twice, covered her with a blanket, but sleep eluded you. You type a line of code, delete it, type again—anything to delay the confrontation you know is coming.

A soft groan pulls you from your thoughts. Xinyu stirs, her hand rubbing her eyes, her blouse shifting to reveal more marked skin. “You up…” you say, your voice low, a greeting laced with tension as you swivel in your chair to face her.

“Hey, babe,” she mumbles, her voice hoarse, still groggy as she blinks awake. She props herself up, wincing, slowly registering her crumpled blouse, the faint ache of a hangover.

“God… what…” Her fingers brush her neck, and you see the moment she senses something’s off, though she doesn’t yet grasp the full picture.

“Sober yet?” you ask, leaning back, your tone neutral but your eyes sharp, watching her every move.

“Babe, who brought me home?” Xinyu asks, her eyes darting around the room, a flicker of panic crossing her face as she pieces together the night. The office party, the drinks, the blur—that’s all she remembers, and you can tell she’s fishing for clues.

“Nien,” you answer, your voice flat, the name heavy between you. You stand, crossing to the bedroom door, locking it with a soft click to keep the world out. The sound makes Xinyu’s eyes snap to you, her confusion deepening.

“Nien?” she repeats, her voice rising, her gaze flickering with unease. “Why was… what happened?” She’s sitting up now, her blouse hanging loose, the hickeys stark against her pale skin, and you can see her mind racing, trying to fill the gaps.

You walk to the bed, sitting beside her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body but far enough to keep your anger in check. Your heart’s pounding, her betrayal cuts, but so does your own— you’re both liars, but you need answers, need to know where you stand in her game.

“What am I to you?” you ask, your voice low, steady, but laced with a raw edge as you meet her eyes.

Xinyu blinks, caught off guard, her hangover slowing her defenses. “Babe… what…” She laughs nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear, but your stare doesn’t waver.

“You’re my boyfriend, obviously,” she says, her tone light, like it’s a silly question, but there’s a tremor in her voice, a crack in her confidence.

“Obviously,” you echo, your voice colder now, leaning forward. “So why’s your neck covered in hickeys I didn’t give you? Why’s your chest bruised like someone else owned you last night?” You don’t raise your voice, but the words cut, and Xinyu’s face pales, her hand instinctively touching her neck, finding the tender spots she hadn’t noticed.

“What are you talking about?” she stammers, her eyes wide, but you see the shift—she’s remembering, or pretending not to. “I… I was drunk, babe. The party got wild, but it’s nothing serious—”

“Nothing serious?” you cut her off, your anger flaring, though you keep it reined in. You pull out your phone, tempted to call Nien, to demand she send those photos, but you don’t need them.

The evidence is on her skin, in her nervous glance. “Nien showed me everything. Jihoon, Minseok, some random guy, whoever they were. Photos, Xinyu. You sent them to her, bragging about your ‘fun.’ You’re using me—this apartment, my money—while you fuck around at work. What am I, your landlord or your boyfriend?”

Xinyu’s mouth opens, then closes, her hands twisting the blanket. “Babe, it’s not like that,” she says, her voice shaking, tears welling up.

“I love you, okay? I just… I got carried away. The office, the drinks—it’s stupid, I know, but it doesn’t mean anything. You’re my home.” She reaches for your hand, but you pull back, the hickeys a vivid accusation.

“Home?” you scoff, standing, pacing to the window. “You call this home when you’re out there leaving marks on other guys? When you’re texting Nien about ‘round two’ with Minseok?” Your voice cracks, anger and hurt colliding, but then the mirror flashes— excuse you swallowed.

You’re no saint, and it stops you cold. “You’re lying to me,” you say, turning back, “but I’m not perfect either.”

Xinyu’s eyes narrow, catching the slip. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, her voice sharper now, suspicion cutting through her guilt. She’s hungover, vulnerable, but not defenseless, and you feel the conversation tilting, both of you teetering on the edge of mutual destruction.

You hesitate, but you sidestep. “It means we’re a mess,” you say, softer, sitting back on the bed. “I saw those marks, Xinyu. I saw the photos. You can’t lie your way out. Just… tell me why. Why am I not enough?”

Her tears spill over, and she buries her face in her hands. “It’s not about you,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “It’s me. I get… restless. The attention, the thrill—it’s dumb, but I can’t stop. I love you, I swear, but I’m fucked up.”

She looks up, her eyes raw, pleading. “Can we fix this? Please?”

You want to believe her, want the rom-com back, but you’re both cheaters, both liars, and as you don’t know if you’re fighting for love or just delaying the inevitable crash.

Xinyu sits up, wincing from her hangover, her blouse slipping to reveal more marks you didn’t make. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice breaking, tears spilling again.

“I know I fucked up, okay? I… I don’t know why I do it. The attention, the rush—it’s not about you not being enough. You’re… you’re everything I want, but I keep screwing it up.” She hugs her knees, looking small, vulnerable, nothing like the confident Xinyu who charmed you into this apartment, this life.

“I’ll stop. I’ll quit the flirting, the parties. Just… don’t leave me.”

Her words hit hard, a plea that echoes Dahyun’s vulnerability last night, and you hate how it softens you, even now.

You turn, leaning against the window, your arms crossed. “You say that, but how do I trust you?” you ask, your voice quieter but no less sharp. “You’ve been doing this since before we moved in together. Nien told me. You’re using me—my money, this place—while you play around. What’s stopping you from doing it again?”

The question hangs, heavy, and you’re not just asking her—you’re asking yourself, you’ve been playing the same game, and the hypocrisy burns.

Xinyu wipes her eyes, her mascara smudging. “I know I don’t deserve your trust right now,” she says, her voice steadier, like she’s fighting to mean it.

“But I’m telling you, I want to try. I’ll be better, I’ll… I’ll tell the guys at work to back off. I don’t want to lose you.” She stands, shaky, and steps toward you, her hand hovering like she’s afraid to touch you. “You’re not just a landlord to me. You’re… you’re my home.”

The word “home” stings, a cruel irony after last night’s chaos—Dahyun on this bed, your cum on her stomach, your lies as deep as Xinyu’s.

You want to scream, to call her out on every photo, every hickey, but your own secrets choke you. “I saw the bruises,” you say instead, your voice low, controlled. “Not just hickeys, Xinyu. Someone got rough with you. Who was it? Jihoon? Minseok? The other guy?” You step closer, your eyes locked on hers, searching for the truth.

Her face crumples, and she looks away, her hands twisting the hem of her blouse. “I… I don’t remember everything,” she admits, her voice barely audible. “The party was a blur. Too many shots, too many people. I didn’t say no, but… it wasn’t like I planned it.” She meets your gaze, her eyes raw. “I’m not making excuses. I fucked up. But I didn’t want to hurt you.”

You laugh, a harsh, hollow sound. “Hurt me?" The accusation lands, and she flinches, like you’ve slapped her. But then your own guilt surges about “getting away with it.”

You’re both monsters in this drama, and the realization makes you sick. “We’re a fucking mess,” you say, sinking onto the bed, your head in your hands. “Both of us.”

Xinyu sits beside you, cautious, her knee brushing yours. “What do you mean, both of us?” she asks, her voice sharp, suspicion creeping in again. She’s caught your slip, the same way she did earlier, and you feel the conversation tilting toward a cliff. Your affairs—Dahyun, Nakyoung—are a loaded gun, and one wrong word could pull the trigger.

You dodge, shaking your head. “I mean this relationship,” you say, gesturing between you. “Lies, secrets, running around behind each other’s backs.” It’s a half-truth, close enough to cover your tracks but not enough to ease your conscience. “I want to believe you can change, but… I don’t know if I can do this.” The words hurt, cutting both ways—her betrayal, your own—and you feel the rom-com dream you built with her slipping away.

Xinyu’s silent, her tears drying as she stares at the floor. “So… what now?” she asks, her voice small, like she’s bracing for the end. “You want to break up? Kick me out?” She looks at you, her eyes searching, and for a moment, you see the Xinyu you fell for—chaotic, flawed, but real.

You don’t have an answer. Part of you wants to fight, to rebuild something from the ashes. Another part wants to run—to Dahyun, to nowhere, to a life without lies. But you’re stuck, your anger and guilt a tangled knot you can’t untie. “I don’t know,” you admit, your voice breaking. “I need time. To think, to… figure out what’s left.”

She nods, wiping her face, and stands, smoothing her blouse. “Okay,” she says, her voice steadier now. “I’ll give you that. I’ll… I’ll crash at Nien’s for a bit, give you space.”

She grabs her tie, her shoes, and pauses at the door, looking back. “I do love you, you know. Even if I’m shit at showing it.”

You don’t respond, your throat too tight, and she leaves, the door clicking shut.

Xinyu’s gone, a raw, messy drama in its place, and as you stare at your PC, the code still open, you know the next move’s yours—but the script’s blank, and the ending’s anyone’s guess.

The apartment is suffocatingly quiet after Xinyu’s leave, her final words—“I do love you, you know”—hanging like a ghost. She’s gone to Nien’s, leaving you.

The bed still smells faintly of her perfume, mixed with the air freshener you sprayed to mask Dahyun’s presence last night. Your PC hums, code untouched, but your mind’s a storm—Xinyu’s confession of chasing thrills. Your own betrayals—mirror her sins, and the guilt is a weight you can’t shake.

A knock at the door snaps you out of your haze. You hesitate, half-expecting Xinyu’s return, but it’s Dahyun, bursting in with Mochi in her hugs and the food bowl in her hand, her hoodie loose, her smile bright but faltering when she sees your face.

"Hey, I—whoa, you look like shit,” she says, setting the bowl down, her eyes scanning you. Mochi hop off to you, purring to your legs, and she kneels to pet him, but her gaze stays on you, sharp with concern. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

You slump onto the couch, your hands rubbing your face, the weight of everything spilling over. “No,” you say, your voice rough. “I'm not. We’re not.”

You don’t plan to confess, but Dahyun’s there, her presence a reminder of your own fuck-ups, and the truth tumbles out. “Xinyu’s been cheating. With guys at work, her collages showed me photos, texts. Her neck’s covered in hickeys I didn’t give her. She’s been using me for the apartment, for… stability.” You laugh, bitter, shaking your head. “And I’m no better. I fucked you last night, Dahyun. I’m just as bad.”

Dahyun’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t flinch, sitting beside you, her hand resting on your knee. “Wow,” she says, processing, her voice calm but serious.

“That’s… a lot.” She pauses, her fingers squeezing your knee, her gaze steady. “But you know what? You should break up with her. Not because she’s worse than you—she’s not, you’re both a mess—but because you two are toxic together. All this sneaking around, lying, it’s killing you both.” She leans closer, her voice softening, a spark in her eyes. “Focus on me instead. No drama, no games. Just us. We’re already the drama, right? Let’s make it the good kind.”

Her words are tempting, her smile a lifeline, but they stir a fresh wave of guilt. Dahyun’s offer—simple, raw, no strings—feels like a way out, but you’re still tangled in Xinyu’s web, her tears, her plea to fix things.

“You make it sound easy,” you say, meeting her gaze, your voice low. “But I… I loved her. Maybe I still do. And you—you deserve better than being my rebound.” You’re honest, for once, and it hurts, the weight of your own flaws laid bare.

Dahyun shrugs, undeterred, her hand sliding to your arm. “Maybe I do, but I want you,” she says, her tone playful but earnest. “Think about it. No pressure, but I’m here.” She stands, grabbing Mochi’s bowl, tossing you a wink.

“I’ll be back for His Highness. Don’t spiral too hard, okay?” She leaves, the door clicking shut, and you’re alone again, Mochi staring like he’s judging your life choices.

Meanwhile, across town, Xinyu’s at Nien’s apartment, her hangover a dull ache, her blouse still wrinkled from last night. She’s pacing, her phone clutched tight, Nien’s cool gaze tracking her from the couch.

“You told him,” Xinyu snaps, her voice sharp, tears brimming. “You showed him the photos, the texts—everything. Why, Nien? You’re supposed to be my friend!”

Nien doesn’t flinch, stirring her coffee with infuriating calm. “I am your friend,” she says, her tone steady, her bob framing her unyielding expression.

“That’s why I told him. You’re stringing him along, Xinyu—using his apartment, his love, while you fuck around with whoever’s got a pulse at the office. He deserves better than being your safety net.”

Xinyu’s fists clench, her face a mix of rage and guilt. “I love him!” she shouts, but it’s shaky, like she’s trying to convince herself. “I told him I’d change, that I’d stop. You didn’t give me a chance to fix it!” Her voice cracks, the hickeys on her neck a visible reminder of her chaos, and she collapses onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. “He’s… he’s everything, Nien. And now he hates me.”

Nien sets her coffee down, her pity softening her edges. “He doesn’t hate you,” she says, quieter now. “But he’s hurt. You’ve been lying to him for months, Xinyu. Those photos weren’t from one bad night—they’re a pattern. You can’t fix this by crying or promising therapy you don’t mean.” She leans forward, her voice firm.

“You need to let him go or get your shit together. But you can’t keep playing him.”

Xinyu sobs, her shoulders shaking, the reality of her choices hitting hard. “I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she whispers, her voice small. “I just… I don’t know how to stop.” She looks at Nien, desperate. “What do I do? He’s… he’s my home.”

Nien sighs, her cool facade cracking just enough to show she cares. “Figure out who you are without him,” she says. “And if you love him, prove it. But don’t expect him to wait forever.” She stands, leaving Xinyu to her tears, the apartment a stark contrast to the one you’re in, where the same questions linger.

The apartment feels like a pressure cooker, the silence broken only by Mochi's soft purring as he nestles in your lap, his grey fur a small comfort in the chaos of your unraveling rom-com. You petting Mochi, half-hoping his indifferent stare holds some cosmic answer, but he just flicks his tail, unimpressed.

Your mind races, grasping for a way out. Break up with Xinyu and run to Dahyun? Fight for Xinyu and hope she means her promise to change? Or walk away from both, start fresh, and leave this drama behind? None of the options feel right, and the hypocrisy of your anger at Xinyu's cheating while hiding your own gnaws at you.

You think of Nakyoung—her chaotic energy, her "just having fun" mantra that pulled you into this mess a month ago. She's no saint, but she's been through her own share of messy relationships, and maybe, just maybe, she'd have insight. You're desperate, clinging to any lifeline, so you grab your phone, hesitate, then dial her number, your heart pounding as it rings.

Nakyoung picks up on the third ring, her voice lazy but curious. "Yo, what's up? Never calls before, miss me?" she says, a smirk audible in her tone. You can picture her lounging, probably in some oversized hoodie, her hair a mess, unbothered by the world.

You take a deep breath, stroking Mochi for courage, and spill everything. "I fucked up, Nakyoung," you start, your voice raw. "Xinyu's been cheating on me—with guys at work, some random dude. Her friend showed me photos, texts, hickeys all over her. She's been using me for the apartment, but... I'm no better. I slept with another girl last night, my neighbor, and... with you a month ago. I'm a wild too, but I don't want to lose Xinyu. I love her, or at least I think I do, but it's all such a mess. What the hell do I do?"

There's a pause, then Nakyoung laughs, not cruelly but like she's amused by the sheer chaos. "Damn, you two are a soap opera," she says, and you hear her shift, probably sitting up.

"Okay, listen, don't sweat this. You and Xinyu are both guilty as hell. You cheated, she cheated, you're both playing the same shitty game. So here's what you do: come clean. Tell her you fucked your neighbor, fucked me, the whole deal. Lay it all out, no secrets. Yeah, it'll be a shitshow, but then you're starting from zero. If you both still want it, you can rebuild, boundaries, whatever. If not, you walk away, no lies holding you back."

You blink, her bluntness cutting through your spiral. "Just... tell her everything?" you ask, your voice shaky. "What if she leaves? What if she can't forgive me?" Mochi nudges your hand, demanding more pets, and you oblige, your mind racing.

Nakyoung's plan is terrifying—baring your soul, exposing your affairs with her and Dahyun, risking Xinyu's love—but it's honest, a reset you've never considered.

Nakyoung snorts. "If she leaves, then what? You're already half-out the door with that neighbor, right? And let's be real, Xinyu's not exactly winning girlfriend of the year. If she can't handle your truth after her own fuck-ups, that's on her. But you gotta decide—do you want her, or are you just scared of being alone?" Her voice softens, just a touch.

"You're not a bad guy, just a dumb one. Be straight with her. It's the only way to stop this cycle."

You nod, though she can't see it, the idea settling like a heavy stone. "Thanks, Nakyoung," you say, your voice steadier. "I... I'll think about it." You hang up, staring at your phone, Nakyoung's words echoing: Come clean. Start from zero.

It's a gamble, one that could end everything, but the alternative—more lies, more hickeys, more Dahyun-shaped secrets—feels worse. Mochi leaps off your lap, strutting to his food bowl, and you envy his simplicity, his world free of moral dilemmas.

You stand, pacing, the apartment too small for your thoughts. Xinyu's and Nien's, probably still crying, still angry at her friend's betrayal. Dahyun's four doors down, her offer of a drama-free life tempting but complicated by her own feelings, her high school heartbreak you're not sure you can heal.

You imagine confronting Xinyu, telling her about Dahyun, about Nakyoung, watching her face as she processes your sins alongside her own. Would she scream? Cry? "Walk away? Or would she stay, both of you broken but willing to try? The image is terrifying but strangely hopeful, a chance to strip away the lies and see what's left.

Evening settles over the apartment, the fading light casting long shadows across the room, mirroring the turmoil in your chest. Mochi’s curled up on the couch, his grey fur a small beacon of calm, but the weight of the day.

You haven’t seen Dahyun since her bold offer this morning—“Focus on me instead”—and though she hasn’t returned for Mochi, you know she’s in her apartment, four doors down.

Her absence feels deliberate, giving you space, but you can’t let this linger. You need to return Mochi, her fluffy alibi, and end the affair, no matter how much her vulnerability tugs at you.

You scoop Mochi into your arms, his warm weight grounding you, and grab his food bowl, your resolve firm but your stomach churning. You’re not just returning a cat—you’re closing a chapter that’s cost you too much, even if it means hurting Dahyun.

The walk to her apartment feels endless, each step heavy with the memory of last night—her moans, her plea for love, your rough dodge. You knock on her door, Mochi purring against your chest, and when Dahyun opens it, her face shifts from surprise to wariness.

She’s in a loose hoodie, her hair tied back, her eyes sharp despite the softness of her features.

“Hey,” she says, her voice cautious, glancing at Mochi, then you. “Didn’t expect you to bring The Highness back so soon.”

You force a small smile, stepping inside as she gestures you in, the familiar scent of her apartment—coffee, lavender—hitting you like a wave of regret. “Figured you’d want him back,” you say, setting Mochi down. He struts off, tail high, like he owns the place, and you turn to Dahyun, your throat tight. “We need to talk.”

Her eyes narrow, sensing the shift, and she crosses her arms, leaning against the counter. “Talk about what?” she asks, her tone guarded, but there’s a flicker of hurt already, like she knows what’s coming.

You take a deep breath, the weight of your decision pressing down. “About us,” you say, your voice low but steady. “What we’ve been doing—it’s wrong. I can’t keep sneaking around with you, Dahyun. Xinyu and I… we’re a mess, but I need to fix things with her, or at least try. I’m sorry, but this—us—has to end.” You pause, softening, hating how cold it sounds. “You can still drop Mochi off whenever you need. I’m not cutting you out, just… this part.”

Dahyun’s face hardens, her eyes flashing with a mix of disappointment and anger. “End it?” she repeats, her voice rising, sharp enough to cut. “You come in here, after last night—after I gave you everything, after I told you to choose me—and you just… what, decide I’m the problem? You think you can just walk away and keep playing cat-sitter like nothing happened?” She steps closer, her cheeks flushing, her hurt turning to fury. “I opened my heart to you, you asshole. You fucked me, take my virginity, I trusted you, and now you’re tossing me aside because you’re too scared to face your own shit?”

Her words sting, each one landing like a punch, and you flinch, knowing she’s right. You’re not blameless—Dahyun’s high school heartbreak, her vulnerability, you took advantage of it, just like Xinyu played you.

“I’m not tossing you aside,” you say, your voice cracking, trying to hold ground. “I’m trying to do the right thing for once. Xinyu’s cheating, I’m cheating—we’re a disaster, and I can’t keep dragging you into it. You deserve better than this, Dahyun.”

“Better?” she scoffs, her laugh bitter, tears welling in her eyes. “Better than being your side piece while you pine for a girl who’s fucking half her office? Don’t patronize me.”

She grabs Mochi, who meows in protest, and storms to the door, her movements sharp, final. “You want to fix things with Xinyu? Fine. Go play hero. But don’t expect me to wait around, petting your ego or your cat.” She opens the door, her gaze burning into you. “Get out.”

You hesitate, wanting to say something—anything—to soften the blow, but her anger’s a wall, and you’ve earned it. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, stepping past her, the weight of her disappointment heavy on your shoulders. The door slams behind you, the sound echoing down the hall, a hard stop to the affair that’s cost you both too much.

Back in your apartment, the silence is deafening. Mochi’s gone, no texts from Xinyu, no follow-up from Dahyun. You collapse on the couch, your head in your hands, Nakyoung’s advice still ringing: Come clean. Start from zero.

You’re one step closer, having ended things with Dahyun, but the cost is steep—her anger, her slammed door, her trust shattered. You stare at the ceiling, the apartment too quiet without Mochi’s purring. Nakyoung’s words, Dahyun’s anger, Xinyu’s tears—they’re all pieces of a puzzle you can’t solve tonight. The script’s a mess, the ending unclear, but you’re committed to the truth now, no matter how much it hurts.

The evening deepens, the apartment bathed in the dim glow of a single lamp, the silence a stark contrast to the chaos of the past day.

You take a deep breath, your fingers trembling as you type a text to Xinyu: “Come talk.” The words are simple, but they carry the weight of everything. You hit send, your heart pounding, and wait.

Minutes later, her reply buzzes through: “Alright.” It’s curt, but it’s enough, and the anticipation of her arrival sets your nerves on edge.

Time drags, each minute stretching into eternity, your anxiety spiking with every creak of the building. You check your phone, re-read Xinyu’s text, and stroke the couch where Mochi usually lies, wishing for his calm indifference.

Finally, a knock at the door jolts you upright. You open it, and there’s Xinyu, her hair loose and tangled, her eyes puffy and bruised from crying, a small bag slung over her shoulder.

She looks fragile, a far cry from the vibrant Xinyu who once filled this space with laughter, and the sight twists something in your chest. You exhale, steeling yourself, and say, “Come in,” your voice steady despite the storm inside.

She steps inside without a word, her movements slow, deliberate, like she’s navigating a minefield. She sets her bag on the counter, next to the pizza box, and the silence between you is suffocating.

“Feels stranger, aren’t we?” Xinyu says, her voice breaking into a bitter, pained laugh, her eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before darting away.

You nod, sitting on the couch, gesturing for her to join you, but she stays standing, arms crossed, like she’s bracing for impact.

You lean forward, your hands clasped, and dive in, your voice low but firm. “I need to confess too,” you say, cutting straight to the point.

“I’ve been cheating with Dahyun. Last night, and… before. And Nakyoung, back when she crashed here a month ago.” The words spill out, raw and unfiltered, each one a weight lifted but a dagger aimed at whatever’s left of you and Xinyu.

Her eyes widen, a flash of shock crossing her face, followed by something darker—hurt, betrayal, but also a strange recognition, like she’s seeing the mirror of her own sins.

“Dahyun?” she whispers, her voice cracking, her hand gripping the counter for support. “The neighbor? And… Nakyoung?” She laughs again, that same bitter sound, shaking her head.

“Nien was right, huh... wow. We’re really fucking good at this, aren’t we? You with them, me with them. Just… perfect.”

The sarcasm stings, but it’s deserved, and you don’t flinch. “Yeah,” you say, your voice quieter now, “we’re a mess. Both of us. You’ve been lying to me, using me for this place, for stability. But I’ve been lying too. I’m not here to play victim—I’m just as guilty.”

You meet her gaze, holding it, willing her to see the truth in you. “I don’t know if we can fix this, but I’m done hiding. I want to know what we are, if there’s anything left.”

Xinyu’s silent, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her lips trembling as she processes your confession. “You slept with Dahyun,” she says, almost to herself, like she’s testing the words. “And Nakyoung. While I was… fuck.” She runs a hand through her hair, pacing a step, then stopping.

“I thought I was the worst one here. I thought I’d ruined us. But you…” She trails off, her anger softening into something rawer, a shared pain. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t we just… talk?”

You stand, closing the distance but not touching her, your hands clenched at your sides. “Because I was scared,” you admit, your voice breaking. “Scared of losing you, of admitting I’m no better than you. I saw those marks on you, and it killed me, but then I remembered Dahyun, Nakyoung, and I… I couldn’t pretend I was innocent. We’re both fucked up, Xinyu. But I’m here, telling you now, because I want to try. If you do.”

She looks at you, her eyes searching, and for a moment, you see the Xinyu you fell for—flawed, chaotic, but real. “I don’t know if I can trust you too,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I know you can’t trust me either. But… I don’t want to lose you.” She steps closer, her hand hovering near yours, then dropping. “What do we do? Settle ground rules? Or… do we just end it?”

The question hangs, a fork in the script you’ve been dreading. You think of Dahyun’s slammed door, her anger, Nakyoung’s advice, the hickeys you didn’t make. You think of Xinyu’s laughter, her head on your shoulder, the rom-com you wanted.

“I don’t know,” you say, honest, raw. “But let’s start with the truth. No more lies, no more secrets. If we’re gonna crash, let’s do it honestly.”

Xinyu nods, a tear slipping down her cheek, and she sits on the couch, her bag forgotten on the counter. “Okay,” she says, her voice small but resolute. “No more lies.”

You take a deep breath, your voice soft but steady, a spark of hope cutting through the heaviness. “Let’s start again,” you say, meeting her gaze. “Like when we agreed to live together.” The memory feels distant, but it’s a lifeline, a reminder of the Xinyu who stole your heart before the lies.

Her eyes brighten, a small smile tugging at her lips, and she nods, her voice quiet but sure. “Let’s promise then,” she says, extending her pinky, a gesture so simple it aches with nostalgia. You hook your pinky with hers, the touch electric, grounding.

“Promise,” you say, sealing the pinky promise, your eyes locked on hers. For a moment, the world narrows to just you two, the apartment fading, the pain of yesterday blurring.

You look at Xinyu, really look, and it hits you—how beautiful she is when she smiles, that unguarded, radiant curve of her lips you’d forgotten in the haze of anger and guilt.

Your hands move on instinct, cupping her cheeks, your thumbs brushing her soft skin. She leans into your touch, her smile widening, then turns her face slightly, shy, before meeting your gaze again, her eyes warm, vulnerable, alive.

She shifts closer, her breath catching, and then she’s kissing you, her lips soft but urgent, a quiet apology and a new vow wrapped in one.

You kiss her back, intense, pouring everything into it—love, regret, hope. The kiss deepens, hungry, and your hands slide to her shoulders, then lower, tugging at her blouse.

She doesn’t stop you, her own hands gripping your shirt, and the fabric falls open, revealing her collarbone, the upper curve of her chest. The hickeys are still there, faint but unmistakable, a brutal reminder of her betrayal.

You exhale, a pang in your chest, but you let it go, choosing to forgive, to reclaim her. Your lips find her neck, kissing softly at first, then harder, leaving a mark of your own—a deep, deliberate hickey, a claim that says she’s yours again.

Xinyu gasps, her hands tangling in your hair, pulling you closer. “Babe,” she whispers, her voice a mix of need and relief, and you feel her shiver under your touch.

You kiss along her collarbone, careful but possessive, each mark a step toward rebuilding what you’ve nearly lost. Her blouse slips further, pooling at her waist, and you press yourself closer, your hands roaming her back, her skin warm against yours.

You pull back, just enough to look at her, your foreheads touching, her smile soft and real. “I missed this,” you say, your voice low, raw. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she murmurs, her fingers tracing your jaw, her eyes glistening but not with tears this time—with something brighter, something new. “No more secrets, okay? Just us.”

“Just us,” you echo, kissing her again, slower this time, savoring the taste of her, the promise of a fresh start.

Your hands slide under her blouse, lifting it off completely, and she laughs, a light, genuine sound that feels like the Xinyu you fell for, the one who made this apartment a home.

You guide her to the bed, the same bed that’s seen too much—Dahyun’s body, your guilt—but now it’s just you and Xinyu, reclaiming it. You lay her down gently, your lips never leaving hers, and she pulls you close, her legs wrapping around you, her touch urgent but tender.

She pulls at your shirt, her fingers fumbling in her eagerness, and you help her, tossing it aside. Her legs wrap around you as you hover over her, kissing her deeply, your tongues tangling, the heat between you building.

You unbutton her skirt, sliding it off with her panties, and she’s bare beneath you, her pussy glistening, her breathing heavy. You pause, taking her in—her flushed cheeks, her half-lidded eyes, the hickeys you’re learning to forgive—and she smiles, that radiant curve you’d forgotten, whispering, “Babe.”

“Xinyu,” you murmur, your lips trailing down her neck, across her collarbone, kissing the old marks softly, then harder, leaving new ones to rewrite the story.

Your hand slips between her thighs, finding her wet, your fingers teasing her clit, and she moans, her hips bucking against you. You shedding your pants, your cock hard, aching for her.

You position yourself above her in, her legs spread, her pussy inviting, and you guide your cock to her entrance, pushing in slowly. She’s tight, warm, her walls gripping you as you slide deeper, her moan vibrating through you.

“Xinyu,” you groan, and she wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you into a kiss, her tongue eager, her hips meeting your thrusts. The rhythm builds, steady but intense, each movement a reclaiming—her body, your love, the apartment itself. Her pussy clenches around you, wet and perfect, and you thrust deeper, your hands gripping her hips, her moans louder, filling the room.

You kiss her neck again, sucking harder, leaving another hickey, and she arches into you, her nails digging into your back. “Babe,” she whispers, and it’s a vow, a plea, and you thrust faster, the bed creaking, the heat between you electric.

Her legs tighten around your waist, pulling you deeper, and you feel her getting close, her breaths ragged, her pussy pulsing.

“I’m gonna—” she gasps, and you drive into her, pushing her over the edge. She comes hard, her walls squeezing your cock, her moan a cry of your name, her body trembling beneath you.

You’re close too, the pressure building in your cock, and you start to pull out, instinct kicking in—you’ve always been careful, always pulled out.

But Xinyu’s legs lock around you, her heels digging into your back, holding you in place. “No,” she says, her voice urgent, her eyes locked on yours. “Cum inside me.” Her words hit like a spark, raw and desperate, a trust you haven’t shared before.

You hesitate, searching her face, but her gaze is steady, her lips parted, her need clear. “You sure?” you ask, your voice rough, your thrusts slowing but not stopping, your cock still buried in her tight pussy.

She nods, her hands cupping your face, pulling you into a kiss, her tongue fierce against yours. “I want it,” she whispers against your lips. “I'm yours, babe.” It’s a surrender, a reclaiming, and you can’t hold back.

You thrust deeper, faster, her pussy gripping you, her legs keeping you close, and the pressure snaps. You cum hard, a groan tearing from your throat as you spill inside her, hot and intense, filling her.

She moans, her body shuddering, her pussy milking you, drawing out every pulse, every drop.

You collapse onto her, both of you panting, your foreheads pressed together, your breaths mingling. Her legs loosen but don’t let go, keeping you close, her hands stroking your back, gentle now. The hickeys on her chest are just marks now, not wounds, and the ones you’ve left feel like a promise, not a fight.

“I'm happy” she murmurs, her voice soft, and you nod, kissing her slowly, savoring the warmth of her lips, her body still wrapped around you.

You stay like that, tangled in each other, the apartment quiet except for your shared breaths. You pull out gently, your cum glistening on her thighs, and she smiles, a lazy, satisfied curve that makes your heart ache.

You clean her up with a towel, your touches tender, and she curls into you, her head on your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

=====================

Morning sunlight creeps through the apartment’s curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the tangled sheets where you and Xinyu lie, your bodies still pressed close from the night before. Her head rests on your chest, her breath soft and steady, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. Xinyu’s warmth, her heartbeat against you, is a reminder that you’re starting again, flawed but together.

You stir, your hand brushing through her messy hair, and she hums, nuzzling closer, her voice a sleepy murmur against your chest.

“Miss Mochi,” she says, her tone light but tinged with a quiet longing. “Any idea about adopting a cat?” Her words catch you off guard, a playful spark in the morning haze, but they carry weight—a nod to the normalcy you’re both craving, a step toward rebuilding the home you almost lost.

You chuckle, the sound low and warm, your fingers pausing in her hair. “Adopting a cat, huh?” you say, tilting your head to meet her gaze. She lifts her face, her eyes soft, still a little puffy from yesterday’s tears, but her smile is genuine, radiant, the Xinyu you fell for. “You trying to replace Mochi or just double my duties?”

She laughs, a gentle, airy sound that fills the room, and shifts to prop herself up on one elbow, her bare shoulder peeking from the sheet, the hickeys on her collarbone catching the light. “Not replace,” she says, her voice teasing but sincere. “Mochi’s Dahyun’s king, but… I don’t know, maybe we need our own little chaos. Something new, just ours.” Her fingers trace your jaw, her touch light, and you see it in her eyes—a vision of a future you’re both daring to imagine, a home with a cat, with laughter, with no more secrets.

You smile, pulling her closer, kissing her forehead softly. “A cat sounds good,” you say, your voice warm, the idea settling like a promise.

“But you’re cleaning the litter box. I’m not signing up for that chaos.” She giggles, swatting your chest playfully, and the ease of it, the banter, feels like the old days, before hickeys from strangers and hidden keys tore you apart.

You both linger in bed, the morning stretching slow and sweet. Xinyu’s still pressed against you, her legs tangled with yours, her blouse from last night discarded on the floor. You stroke her back, your fingers grazing the marks you left, and she sighs, content, her body soft against yours.

“Wanna grab breakfast?” you ask, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “No pizza box leftovers this time. Actual food. Pancakes, maybe?” You nod toward the counter, where the untouched box sits, a relic of the chaos you’ve moved past.

Xinyu grins, sitting up, the sheet slipping to reveal more of her skin, the hickeys a fading map you’re learning to live with. “Pancakes sound perfect,” she says, stretching, her hair a wild halo in the morning light.

“But only if you make them. I’m not burning down our kitchen.” She winks, referencing a long-ago disaster that became one of your favorite stories, and you laugh, the sound full, unguarded.

You both get up, moving through the apartment with a tentative ease, like you’re relearning how to be us. She slips into one of your shirts, the hem brushing her thighs, and you pull on a pair of sweats, the domesticity grounding you.

In the kitchen, you mix batter, and Xinyu perches on the counter, stealing spoonfuls, her laughter filling the space.

As you flip pancakes, Xinyu hops down, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, her chin on your shoulder. “I love you,” she says, her voice quiet but sure, the first time she’s said it since yesterday’s tears.

You turn, cupping her face, kissing her softly, the taste of batter on her lips, and it’s not just a kiss—it’s a vow, a pinky promise reaffirmed.

“I love you too,” you say, your foreheads touching, and for now, it’s enough. The apartment feels alive, the rom-com flickering back, not flawless but yours and a love you’re rebuilding, one laugh, one kiss, one shared morning at a time.

#triples smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #triples xinyu #triples xinyu smut #triples dahyun #triples dahyun smut #tripleS nien #male reader smut #triples #come and stay

227 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 2 months ago

Text

MASTERLIST

Live on Tumblr:

Secret SSS Story: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Loved Or Loving: part 1 - bonus part 1

Come And Stay: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (end)

Swimming Class (Hyerin & Chaewon x male reader)

My Nerdy Girlfriend (Yooyeon x male reader)

Between Members : H2H Carmen - Jiwoo | Yubin - Xinyu

Draft (old fics) on Notion:

Seoyeon Secret Story ( Seoyeon x male reader)

Crash Course (Chaeyeon x male reader)

Smooth and Screwed (Xinyu x male reader)

Long Day Ahead (Yooyeon x male reader)

Biology After Hours (Yubin x male reader)

Between Members: Sohyun - Xinyu | Yubin - Jiyeon

The masterlist will update along with every new post.

If the links on above do not work, please let me know.

73 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 2 months ago

Text

Come And Stay (part 3)

tripleS Dahyun ft. Xinyu x male reader

words: 5.6k+

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 (end)

Two weeks have passed since Nakyoung’s hidden chaotic visit, and you’ve been buried off the forbidden couch encounter deep. Xinyu, your girlfriend, remains clueless, and you’re committed to keeping it that way. Nakyoung hasn’t texted or crashed again, and you hope her band keeps her far away.

Saturday morning is perfect. Xinyu’s flipping pancakes in your oversized t-shirt, humming pop tunes, while you brew coffee, stealing syrupy kisses.

“Work’s calling, babe. Even saturday,” she sighs, grabbing her bag. “Save me some pancakes.” She winks and leaves, the apartment quieter but warm.

With a rare weekend off from coding, you’re thrilled to game all day. Settling at your desk, you fire up a shooter, headshots, and loot.

Xinyu texts a goofy selfie from work; you reply with your game score, earning her laughing emojis. The pancakes are your fuel, it’s just you, the game, and Xinyu’s return to look forward to.

•

You’re deep in your gaming marathon, the glow of your monitor casting shadows as gunfire and explosions fill the apartment. Pancakes long gone, you’ve lost track of time, fingers flying over the keyboard, chasing virtual victories.

Until you glance at the clock—8:00 PM—that you realize the day’s slipped away. Xinyu’s still at work, and the apartment feels emptier without her. You stretch, your muscles stiff, and decide to clean up and make dinner, wanting to surprise her when she gets home.

After a quick shower, you’re in the kitchen, humming as you whip up Xinyu’s favorite—spicy stir-fry and rice, the aroma filling the space.

You’re about to text her that dinner’s ready when you check your phone and see her message, sent an hour ago: “Babe, meeting’s running late. Gotta stay over at the new branch office tonight. So sorry! Love you!"

Your heart sinks, disappointment hitting you. You’d been looking forward to her coming home, to sharing a meal and her laughter. But you sigh, muttering, and reply with a supportive, “No worries, stay safe. Love you too.”

You eat alone at the counter, the stir-fry less satisfying without Xinyu’s teasing commentary. The apartment’s too quiet.

You washing dishes to keep busy, the clink of plates grounding you.

A sudden knock at the door startles you, your soapy hands pausing. You dry them, curious—who’d show up unannounced?

You open the door, and there's a girl, maybe around your age, holding a fluffy greyish cat that’s staring at you with mild disdain.

She’s got long, dark hair, a tired but friendly smile, and a work blazer that’s slightly wrinkled.

“Hi, I’m Dahyun,” she says, her voice warm but apologetic.

“I live in 138, just four doors down. I’m so sorry to bother you, but I forgot my keys after work, and I’m waiting for the caretaker to bring the spare. Can I maybe rest here a bit? Or, if that’s too much, could I leave my cat, Mochi, with you while I wait in the lobby?”

You blink, caught off guard but charmed by her earnestness and the cat’s unimpressed glare. “No, no, it’s cool,” you say, stepping aside with a smile.

“Come in, rest. Mochi’s welcome too.” You’re not used to random neighbors dropping by, but Dahyun seems harmless, and you’re not about to let her or her cat camp out in the lobby.

She hesitates, then nods gratefully, stepping inside. “Thank you, really. I owe you one.” She sets Mochi down, who immediately struts off to inspect your couch like he owns it.

Dahyun glances around, her eyes landing on the lingering stir-fry aroma. “Smells amazing in here. Big dinner plans?”

You laugh, closing the door. “Was for my girlfriend, but she’s stuck at work. You hungry? There’s plenty left.” You’re surprised at your own hospitality, but Dahyun’s easy vibe puts you at ease, and the distraction’s welcome after your solo meal.

Her eyes light up. “Oh, I shouldn’t… but if you’re offering, I’m not saying no.” She grins, and you grab a plate, serving her some stir-fry as she settles at the counter.

Mochi leaps onto a stool, watching like a tiny judge. “So,” Dahyun says between bites, “you and your girlfriend live here? You seem… cozy.”

“Yeah,” you say, leaning against the counter, a fond smile tugging at you. “She’s at work, though, hence the overtime dinner.” You skip the Nakyoung drama, keeping it light. “What about you? Long day?”

Dahyun nods, petting Mochi. “Yeah, office grind. Forgot my keys like an idiot. You’re a lifesaver.” She pauses, her smile teasing. “And a good cook. Your girlfriend's lucky.”

You chuckle, the compliment warming you. Dahyun’s presence is a nice change, her chatty energy filling the Xinyu-shaped void. You’re not sure what’s next—maybe she’ll crash a bit, maybe caretaker will call—but for now, the apartment is alive again, well... at least.

Dahyun’s laughter fills the kitchen as she finishes the last of the stir-fry, her plate nearly clean from how much she enjoyed it. “Seriously,” she says, licking a bit of sauce off her fork, “Your girlfriend's got a keeper. This was better than my usual takeout.” Mochi, her cat, lounges on a stool, his judgmental stare fixed on you like he’s rating your hospitality.

You wave off her compliment, leaning against the counter with a grin. “Glad you liked it. Leave the plate, though—no need to clean up. I'll do it later." You’re still basking in the easy vibe of her company.

Dahyun shakes her head, already standing and heading to the sink. “Nope, my mom raised me better than that,” she says, her tone playful but firm. “I eat, I clean. House rules.” She rolls up her sleeves, her work blazer draped over a chair, and starts scrubbing the plate, the water splashing softly. Mochi flicks his tail, unimpressed by her diligence.

You open your mouth to protest again, but then you notice her leaning slightly over the sink, her jeans hugging her figure.

Her butt, tight and perfectly shaped, is impossible to ignore, the denim stretching just right as she shifts her weight.

Your breath catches, a flush creeping up your neck. Shit, you think, shaking your head quickly, trying to snap out of it. You’re with Xinyu, head-over-heels for her, and you’re still reeling from the Nakyoung mess. Ogling your neighbor—who’s just here to wait for her keys—is not the move.

To distract yourself, you crouch beside Mochi, scratching his fluffy head. “You’re a tough critic, huh, buddy?” you mutter, focusing on his soft fur and the way he leans into your hand, purring faintly.

Mochi’s green eyes narrow, like he knows you’re avoiding trouble. You keep petting, determined to keep your gaze off Dahyun’s… well, her assets, which are still taunting you from the corner of your eye.

Dahyun finishes, drying her hands on a towel and turning with a bright smile. “There, all done. Thanks for the food, seriously.” She notices you with Mochi and laughs. “Oh, you’ve won him over. He doesn’t purr for just anyone.”

You stand, relieved to have dodged a mental misstep, and shrug. “What can I say? I’m a cat whisperer.” Your voice is steadier now, the awkward heat fading, though you’re still hyper-aware of her presence. She’s all smiles, oblivious to your brief lapse, which is a mercy.

“So,” she says, picking up Mochi, who grumbles but settles into her arms, “Any big weekend plans? Beside cooking for your girlfriend?” Her tone’s curious, friendly, and you’re grateful for the normal conversation to anchor you.

You chuckle, relaxing. “Just chilling, maybe more gaming. She is stuck at work, so I’m flying solo. You? Besides, you know, key disasters?”

She grins, petting Mochi. “Probably just recovering from today. Maybe I’ll borrow your cooking skills again if I’m locked out.” Her phone buzzes, and she checks it, her face lighting up. “Oh, caretaker's got my spare. I should head down. Thanks again—you’re a lifesaver.”

You walk her to the door, Mochi giving you one last haughty glance. “Anytime,” you say, meaning it. “And maybe keep that spare key under the mat next time."

She laughs, waving as she heads out. “Noted! See you, neighbor.” The door clicks shut, and you exhale, alone again, the apartment quiet but charged with the day’s odd. Dahyun’s a new, friendly face in your saga. You shake your head, smiling, and hope the rest of the weekend stays less… eventful.

•

Twenty minutes have passed since Dahyun left your apartment, and the quiet is starting to feel oppressive. With Xinyu still stuck at the new branch office for the night.

You glance at the kitchen floor where Dahyun stood earlier, and something catches your eye—a small, leather wallet, barely bigger than a credit card. It must’ve slipped from her pocket, maybe jostled loose by those firm, distracting assets in her jeans.

You grab it, turning it over in your hand, and decide to return it. She’s probably back in her apartment, 138, just four doors down.

Your mind drifts as you head out, boredom mixing with a restless curiosity. No Xinyu tonight, no gaming itch left to scratch—maybe a quick chat with Dahyun could fill the void.

You can’t stop picturing her tight, perfectly shaped butt in those jeans, a thought you try to shake but keeps creeping back. You’re not cheating, you tell yourself, you’re just being a friendly neighborhood.

You knock on 138, and Dahyun opens the door, now in loose training pants and a cozy sweatshirt, her hair down and a bit messy. Mochi, her cat, peeks from behind her legs, eyeing you with mild suspicion.

“Oh, hey!” she says, her smile bright and surprised.

You hold up the wallet, cutting straight to the point. “Found this on my floor. Must’ve dropped when you were over.”

Her eyes widen, and she takes it, her fingers brushing yours. “Oh my gosh, thank you! I didn’t even notice. You’re a lifesaver, again.” She steps back, gesturing inside. “Wanna come in for a bit? I’ve got some leftover cake in the fridge if you’re up for it. Least I can do to say thanks.” Her tone’s warm, inviting, and you hesitate for a split second—Xinyu’s not here, and you’re just chatting, right? right?

As she turns to point at the fridge, you catch a glimpse of her butt in those training pants. It’s not as voluptuous as Xinyu’s, but it’s tight, perfectly shaped, the fabric clinging just enough to reignite that earlier distraction.

You shake your head internally, trying to focus, but damn, she’s making it hard to be a good neighbor. “Yeah, sure,” you say, stepping inside, your voice a touch too eager. “Cake sounds great.”

Her apartment’s cozy, a mirror of yours but with her own flair—plants in the corner, a colorful rug, Mochi’s toys scattered about. She heads to the fridge, and you sit at her counter, trying to keep your eyes on anything but her.

Mochi hops up, nudging your hand for attention, and you pet him, grateful for the distraction. Dahyun’s chatting about her day, oblivious to your wandering thoughts, and you nod along, smiling, but your mind’s split—half on her easy charm, half on that perfectly shaped curve you can’t unsee.

Your mind is a whirlwind as you sit at Dahyun’s counter, Mochi purring under your hand, his soft fur a flimsy anchor to reality. The leftover cake sits between you, a chocolate slice Dahyun’s plated with a warm smile, but you’re barely tasting it. Her easy chatter about Mochi’s latest vet visit filling the air, but your thoughts are elsewhere—dangerously elsewhere.

Those training pants, clinging to her tight, perfectly shaped butt, are burned into your brain. You want to kiss her, taste her, feel that curve under your hands, but the thought spirals into chaos.

Can you fuck her? No, that’s not right. You mean… does she have a boyfriend? Yeah, that’s safer. You’re not that guy, not some creep who’d force anything. If that happens you want her to want it too.

You clear your throat, trying to sound casual as you stab a fork into the cake. “So, uh, you got a boyfriend keeping you and Mochi company, or is it just the two of you?” Your voice is a little too high, but you hope she doesn’t notice.

Dahyun laughs, leaning against the counter, her sweatshirt slipping slightly to reveal a collarbone that’s distractingly delicate. “Nope, no boyfriend,” she says, shaking her head. “No time for that. Mochi’s enough of a handful—his maintenance routine’s got me dizzy. Food, vet, litter box, plus he’s picky about his toys. Who needs a guy when I’ve got this dictator?” She scratches Mochi’s head, and he leans into it, smug as ever.

You nod, a nervous laugh escaping. “Fair. Mochi seems high-maintenance.” Your heart’s racing, her answer unlocking a door you’re not sure you should open.

She’s single, and you’re here, in her apartment, with her smiling at you like you’re the neighbor of the year. Your mind’s screaming—you want to kiss her, taste that tight butt, feel her against you—but you slam the brakes.

Rape? No, hell no. You’re not that person. You’d never hurt anybody, never force anything. You want her to want you, to look at you the way Xinyu does, but you’re floundering, your inexperience a glaring spotlight. How do you even start? You’re already cheating on Xinyu in your head, and the Nakyoung mess proves you’re not exactly a master of self-control.

“So, what about you?” Dahyun asks, snapping you out of your spiral. She’s cutting another slice of cake, her tone light. “I've barely seen her, your girlfriend at parking lot, she seems… solid.” Her eyes flick to you, curious, and you feel the guilt twist harder.

“Yeah, she is amazing,” you say, forcing a smile, though your voice wavers. “We’re good. She’s just… working late tonight.”

You’re dodging, and you know it, but Dahyun doesn’t push. She nods, handing you more cake, and you take it, grateful for something to do with your hands.

You could flirt, maybe, but what if she laughs it off? Or worse, what if she will slap you in the face? where's your dignity man? You pet Mochi harder, his purrs a lifeline, and try to focus on her stories.

You take a breath, scraping together what little charm you’ve got, and go for it. “So, uh… have you thought about getting a boyfriend, anyway?” you say, your voice wobbling. “I mean, you look gorgeous, really.” It’s clunky, and you wince internally, but it’s out there.

Dahyun laughs, a bright, easy sound that softens the awkwardness. She leans against the counter, her sweatshirt shifting to show a hint of collarbone that makes your pulse jump. “Maybe if they can handle Mochi’s maintenance,” she says, smirking as she pets her cat, who’s sprawled like a king on the stool. Then, more seriously, she adds, “Mochi’s enough drama for now.”

You seize the opening, trying to keep it light. “I mean, I can handle Mochi…” you say, grinning, then lean in, testing the waters. “And handle you.” It’s bolder than you meant, and your face heats up the second it leaves your mouth.

Dahyun’s eyes widen, and she laughs again, louder this time, swatting the air like you’ve told a bad joke. “What a flirt!” she says, but there’s a playful edge to it, her cheeks faintly pink.

She busies herself with the cake plate, avoiding your gaze, then tosses out, “I mean… you’re packed, those upper chest muscles. Kinda like it.” Her eyes flick away, landing on Mochi, the fridge, anywhere but you, and you catch the shy undertone beneath her teasing.

Your heart flips—she’s flirting back, or at least dipping her toe in. “Oh, so you’re checking me out now?” you say, leaning forward, your confidence spiking despite your shaky delivery. “Didn’t know Mochi’s mom had an eye for… gains.”

She snorts, rolling her eyes but still smiling. “Don’t get cocky now. I just notice things.” She picks up Mochi, using him as a shield, but her glance darts back to you, quick and curious. “Anyway, you've already taken. Your girlfriend's got dibs on that chest.”

You lean back, a mischievous grin spreading. “You wanna see it though?” you say, puffing out your chest, flexing subtly under your t-shirt. “I mean, I’m a nerd, coding all day, but I’ve been working out, y’know.” It’s half-joking, half-daring, and you watch her closely, gauging her reaction.

Dahyun’s eyes widen, her laugh catching in her throat as she bites her lip, clearly flustered. “Ehem… really?” she says, her voice a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

She hesitates, then, with a glance at Mochi like he’s her moral compass, adds, “I mean… can I touch?” Her cheeks flush pink, her gaze flicking to your chest, then away, then back again, and you know you’ve hit the button.

Your pulse spikes, but you play it cool, leaning closer. “Sure, you can,” you say, your tone low, inviting, a challenge wrapped in permission.

You pull your t-shirt tighter, accentuating the lines of your pecs, and her hand hovers, tentative, before her fingers brush your chest, light but deliberate.

The contact sends a jolt through you, her touch warm, curious, and you catch the way her breath hitches, her eyes locked on yours for a split second too long.

“Wow,” she murmurs, half-laughing, pulling her hand back like she’s been shocked. “Okay, you do work out...” She’s trying to play it off, but the flush in her cheeks and the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, revealed her ear got redder.

You lean back, a devilish grin masking your nerves. “You wanna see down here too?” you say, spreading your thighs to draw her eyes.

Your cock’s already hard, straining against your training pants, the bulge unmistakable. You flex subtly, making it even more obvious, and watch her reaction, your heart pounding.

Dahyun’s eyes widen, her pupils darting around like she’s been caught stealing. “Oh, that’s…” she trails off, her voice faltering, her cheeks blazing red.

She glances at Mochi, then the fridge, anywhere but you, her hands fidgeting. “You’ve taken. I can’t…” she says, her tone a mix of hesitation and guilt, though her gaze flicks back to your bulge, betraying her curiosity.

“Ahh, it’s alright, she doesn’t know,” you say, your voice low, almost conspiratorial.

You reach for her hand, her fingers trembling but not pulling away, and guide it to your pants, pressing her palm against the warm, throbbing hardness of your cock through the fabric. Her touch sends a jolt through you, and you groan softly, watching her face for every reaction.

Dahyun gasps, “Oh my god,” her hand freezing but not retreating, “It's... so big” she whispered, but she doesn’t pull away, and you can see the battle in her eyes—wanting to, but knowing she shouldn’t.

“You wanna continue?” you ask soft but shaky, her fingers still twitching against your bulge. "Umm, I’ve never… done this, especially with someone’s boyfriend.” Her eyes flick up to yours, wide with nerves and a hint of curiosity, her lips parted like she’s surprised at her own boldness.

You blink, stunned, your cock throbbing under her hand. “Seriously? You never?” you say, disbelief lacing your voice. “But you’re gorgeous like this, you never?” It’s hard to fathom—her delicate features, that killer figure in those training pants, the way she carries herself with unassuming charm.

She nods shyly, pulling her hand back to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze dropping to Mochi, who’s now batting at a toy. “I never open my heart again, since high school,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “My ex, he cheated on me. Broke me. But now… here... you’re cheating for me.” Her eyes meet yours again, conflicted, a mix of guilt and longing.

Your stomach twists—her words hit too close to the Nakyoung mess, and you know she’s right. This is cheating, no matter how you spin it. But you lean into the lie, echoing Nakyoung’s careless rationale from two weeks ago, desperate to keep this moment alive.

“This isn’t cheating,” you say, your voice low, almost convincing yourself. “We’re just having fun.” It’s a weak excuse, and deep down, you know it’s bullshit—Xinyu’s trust is on the line, and you’re piling on betrayal—but the heat of Dahyun’s nearness clouds your judgment.

She bites her lip, her expression wavering, like she’s torn between pulling back and diving in. “Fun, huh?” she says, her tone skeptical but with a spark of intrigue. She glances at your bulge again, then back at you, her cheeks pinker. “I… don’t know.” Her nervous laugh breaks the tension, and you both chuckle, Mochi’s indifferent stare adding a comedic beat.

You lean closer, testing the waters, your hand brushing her arm. “Look, no pressure,” you say, softening your tone, though your cock’s still straining, begging for her touch.

“But you’re single, I’m… here, she does'nt have to know and Mochi’s not gonna snitch.” You flash a grin, hoping to keep it light, to make her want you without crossing into creep territory.

You lean even closer, your face inches from hers, her breath warm and unsteady. You’ve never been smooth with women, never mastered the art of teasing, but you channel every cheesy movie you’ve seen, lowering your voice to a deep, cringeworthy growl.

“I want you so bad…” you say, the words dripping with a mix of sincerity and awkward seduction, hoping she’ll fall for it despite the delivery.

Dahyun’s eyes widen, a nervous laugh catching in her throat. “I… I don’t know…” she starts, her voice wavering, her gaze darting to Mochi like he’s her lifeline. She’s teetering, caught between guilt and temptation, her cheeks a deeper pink.

But before she can finish, you act on impulse, closing the gap and pressing your lips to hers in a slow, testing kiss. It’s gentle at first, a question more than a demand, your heart racing as you wait for her to pull away or slap you.

She doesn’t. Instead, Dahyun melts, her hesitation crumbling as she leans into you, her lips soft and warm, tasting faintly of chocolate cake. The kiss deepens, and she’s suddenly all in, her hands sliding to your shoulders, clutching you like she’s been starving for this.

She kisses you back with a hunger that surprises you, her lips parting, her tongue teasing yours, a soft moan escaping as she presses closer. It’s like flipping a switch—she’s fallen, hard, and she’s not just responding, she’s demanding more, her fingers digging into your t-shirt.

Your hands finding her waist, pulling her onto your lap. Her training pants slide against you, her inner tight butt brushing your cock, your hands drift even lower, cupping her cake through her training pants. You squeeze gently, savoring the way it fits in your palms, and Dahyun gasps, a soft, surprised sound that turns into a giggle.

“Oh my god,” she breaks the kiss, her cheeks blazing, but she doesn’t stop you, leaning into your touch, her hands gripping your shoulders. “You’re… bold.” Her voice is playful, teasing, but there’s a tremor of want, and you knead her butt slowly, exploring every inch, your cock stirring in your training pants as her inner down thigh press your lap.

“Been thinking about this since you were at my sink,” you admit, half-laughing, your fingers tracing the seam of her pants, dipping just enough to feel the heat of her skin.

You lead her up, then spin her gently, so she’s facing the counter, her back to you, and bend her forward slightly, your hands still playing on her ass, squeezing harder now, spreading her cheeks just enough to feel the full shape through the fabric.

Dahyun moans, quiet but undeniable, her hands bracing against the counter. “You’re bad,” she whispers, but she arches her back, pushing her butt into your hands, inviting more.

"And you're gonna love it," you spin her again, bold this time, crashing your lips to her, she gasps into it, as you scoop Dahyun into your arms, her body lighter than Xinyu’s or Nakyoung’s, her slender frame fitting easily against you.

Her arms looping around your neck, her tongue teasing yours with a hunger that matches your own. You carry her, kissing her like the world’s ending.

You navigate her cozy apartment, careful not to trip over Mochi’s toys, and nudge her bedroom door open with your shoulder. Dahyun’s kisses don’t falter, her fingers tugging your hair, urging you on.

You kick the door shut behind you, ensuring Mochi’s judgmental eyes stay out of this. The room’s dim, lit by a soft lamp, her bed a mess of colorful blankets.

You throw her gently onto it, and she lands with a soft bounce, her sweatshirt riding up to reveal a sliver of smooth skin. Her eyes, wide and sparkling, lock on yours, her lips parted, breathless but inviting.

You climb onto the bed, straddling her, and dive back into kissing her, hungrier now, your lips moving from her mouth to her jaw, her neck, tasting the faint salt of her skin.

She moans, arching beneath you, her hands roaming your back, slipping under your t-shirt to graze your skin. “I love bad,” she whispers, but there’s no hesitation, only need, her legs wrapping around your hips, pulling you closer. Your cock, still hard in your training pants, presses against her, and she gasps, a sound that sends a jolt through you.

You pull back just enough to meet her gaze, your hands on either side of her, caging her in. “You want this?” you ask, your voice rough, giving her an out, though every part of you screams for her to say yes.

She nods, her cheeks flushed, and tugs you down, kissing you harder, her tongue demanding, her body answering louder than words, your hands sliding under her sweatshirt, finding soft curves.

You pull back, panting, your hands framing her face. “You sure?” you ask, voice rough, needing her consent one last time. Her eyes, wide and glassy, flicker with nerves but burn with desire.

She nods, then whispers, “Yes… but, um, I’ve never…” She bites her lip, cheeks flaming. “I’m a virgin.”

Your heart stutters, a mix of surprise and tenderness cutting through the lust. “Never?” you echo softly, brushing her hair back.

“You’re… okay with me?” The weight of it—her trust, her vulnerability—hits hard, especially with your cheating heart already heavy from Nakyoung and Xinyu’s oblivious love.

She nods again, shy but certain. “I want it to be you,” she murmurs, pulling you closer, her lips grazing yours. “Just… go slow, okay?” Her voice is small, but her kiss is bold, reigniting the fire.

You nod, kissing her deeply, your hands gentle as you peel off her sweatshirt, revealing soft, bare skin. Her bra follows, and you pause, taking in her delicate curves, her breaths hitching as your fingers trace her.

“You’re beautiful,” you say, meaning it, and she smiles, a mix of nerves and pride. You shed your t-shirt, then help her out of her training pants, her panties sliding off last.

Her pussy’s glistening, untouched, and you’re careful, your fingers brushing her thighs, teasing her slowly to ease her nerves.

“Please,” she whispers, guiding your hand, and you touch her, your fingers exploring her wetness, her gasps spurring you on. You kiss her neck, her collarbone, working her up until she’s trembling, her pussy ready.

You pause to grab a condom from your wallet—thankfully there, a habit from Xinyu—but Dahyun shakes her head.

"No need," she say, pulling away the condom from you.

"But..-"

“I trust you,” she says, and you hesitate, the raw temptation warring with sense, but her pleading eyes win.

You position yourself, your cock hard and throbbing, and ease into her slowly, watching her face for any sign of pain. She winces, gripping your shoulders, but urges you on with a shaky, “Keep going.”

Her pussy’s tight, impossibly so, and you move carefully, inch by inch, until you’re fully inside, her warmth overwhelming.

“Okay?” you ask, pausing, and she nods, her breaths ragged but her eyes locked on yours, a mix of awe and need.

You start moving, slow at first, her moans soft and hesitant, but soon she’s matching your rhythm, her hips lifting, her nails digging into your back.

“Faster,” she breathes, and you oblige, thrusting deeper, the raw feel of her pussy without a condom driving you wild.

She’s vocal, her gasps and whimpers filling the room, and you’re lost in her, in the forbidden thrill of taking her virginity, of betraying Xinyu again.

It’s intense, her pussy clenching as she nears her peak, and you’re close too, the heat building. “Dahyun,” you groan, and she cries out, her orgasm hitting hard, her body shaking beneath you.

You pull out just in time, cumming on her stomach, thick ropes painting her skin as you both pant, spent and stunned.

She laughs, breathless, wiping her stomach with a tissue. “Wow… that was…” She trails off, shy again, but her smile says everything. You kiss her softly, guilt crashing in—Xinyu, Nakyoung, now Dahyun—but it’s buried under Dahyun’s warmth, her hand in yours. The rom-com’s a mess, and you’re the villain now, but in this bedroom, with Dahyun’s quiet, “Stay a bit,”

She shifts, propping herself on an elbow, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder, her eyes soft but playful. “Take me for your second, not a problem for me,” she says, her voice light but deliberate, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

“Besides, I need someone to cat-sit Mochi.” She glances toward the door, where Mochi’s probably sulking, excluded from the action, and her laugh is a bright, cheeky sound that cuts through the tension.

You blink, caught off guard, your heart lurching at her words. “My second?” you say, half-laughing, half-stunned, your hand still resting on her waist.

“You’re just… cool with that? And throwing Mochi into the deal?” Your tone’s joking, but there’s a real question there. She’s offering something casual, forbidden, and the idea of sneaking around with her—while Xinyu’s your girlfriend—sparks both desire and dread.

Dahyun shrugs, her smile mischievous but her eyes searching yours. “I mean, I’m not looking for a ring,” she says, sitting up, pulling the blanket to cover herself.

“You and your girlfriend seem solid, but… this was nice. Really nice.” Her cheeks flush, betraying her boldness. “And Mochi likes you, so, y’know, bonus points.” She leans closer, her voice dropping. “I’m not gonna tell. Are you?”

Your pulse races, the offer dangling like a dangerous plot twist. “No, I’m not telling,” you say, your voice low, the guilt twisting harder now.

You sit up, running a hand through your hair. “So, what, we just… sneak around? And I’m on Mochi duty when you’re out?”

She grins, nodding. “Exactly. You handle his highness’s food and litter, and maybe we… have more fun.” She winks, but there’s a vulnerability there, a hint of her high school heartbreak lingering. “No strings, no drama. Just us and Mochi’s judgy stares.”

You laugh, the absurdity of it all—cheating with your neighbor, cat-sitting as part of the deal.

•

Sunday morning dawns, and you’re startled awake by the front door clicking open at 9:00 AM. Xinyu’s back, humming a pop tune, looking radiant despite her all-nighter at the new branch office.

You’re sprawled in bed, exhausted from last night’s hookup with Dahyun—her tight body, her offer to be your “second,” you too drained to make breakfast. It’s Sunday, your day to be lazy.

You shuffle to the kitchen, hair messy, sweatpants wrinkled. Xinyu’s rummaging in the fridge, her loose ponytail and tossed blazer effortlessly charming. “No pancakes, babe?” she teases, grabbing yogurt. “I’m starving.”

“Sorry, slept in,” you mumble, wincing at the lie. Long night—fucking Dahyun while Xinyu worked. “Long night.”

She shrugs, hopping onto the counter. “Sunday’s for chilling, right?” You nod, desperate to keep things normal.

“Takeout and binge?” you suggest, flopping onto the couch. Xinyu curls up beside you, her head on your shoulder, the rom-com life you’re supposed to live. “I pick,” she says, snatching your phone. “No sci-fi crap.” You laugh, but it’s forced.

A knock at the door jolts you. Dahyun—here to drop off Mochi for cat-sitting. You start to stand, but Xinyu’s overlap you. “I got it,” she says, smirking.

Xinyu opens the door, and Dahyun stands there, cradling Mochi, her hoodie hiding her nerves. She smiles, strained. “Hi, I’m Dahyun, neighbor at 138. You must be his girlfriend.”

Xinyu’s smile is friendly but sharp. “You know my boyfriend?” she asks, probing.

“Yeah, he’s… a friend,” Dahyun says, careful. “Neighbors, you know, even before you moved in.” A half-truth, dodging last night’s scandal—her virginity, your betrayal, the “cat-sitting” deal.

Xinyu’s eyes narrow briefly, then soften. “Alright, I’m Xinyu, his girlfriend,” she says, extending her hand. Dahyun sets Mochi down to shake it, and the cat struts to you, leaping into your lap.

Xinyu turns, eyebrow raised. “You do know her?”

“I do, she is neighbor from 138. Dahyun,” you say, petting Mochi to hide your nerves, Dahyun’s key searing in your pocket. Xinyu’s suspicion is a minefield, "You just repeating her words."

Dahyun clears her throat. “I need to grab my key from my office,” she says, glancing at you. “Can you watch Mochi? Just food and water. I’ll be back in a couple hours.” Her eyes linger, a risky second too long.

“No problem,” you say quickly, forcing a grin. “Mochi and I are buds.” Xinyu might notice your eagerness, but you pray she doesn’t.

“Okay then,” Xinyu says, her tone warmer but cautious. “We’ve got this, babe?” She nudges you, her touch heavy with questions.

“Totally,” you reply, little pulse racing.

Dahyun kneels, setting out Mochi’s bowls, her hoodie slipping to show a hint of collarbone you try to ignore. “Thanks, both of you,” she says, standing, her smile genuine but charged. “I’ll text when I’m back. Mochi, behave.” The cat ignores her, batting your shoelace.

“Safe trip,” Xinyu says, walking Dahyun out. The door shuts, and Xinyu turns, arms crossed, smile playful but probing. “Neighbor from 138, huh? Nice. Why haven’t I met her before?”

“You do meet her briefly at parking lot, maybe.” you shrug, petting Mochi. “I helped with Mochi stuff one.” A lie, skirting last night’s truth—Dahyun’s bed, her offer. Xinyu nods, buying it for now, and grabs her phone for takeout.

Mochi struts to his bowls, and you exhale, tension easing but not gone. Dahyun’s gone, Xinyu’s here, and you’re stuck with a cat, and secrets threatening your rom-com life.

#girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #triples smut #male reader smut #triples dahyun #tripleS dahyun smut

182 notes · View notes

mineganoe · 2 months ago

Text

Secret SSS Story pt.4

tripleS Sohyun x male reader

words: 4.5k+

more of this series: SSS pt.1 (Seoyeon) / SSS pt.2 (Chaeyeon) / SSS pt.3 (Sullin)

Sohyun steps into the vocal room at 15 minutes before live schedule start, her presence instantly brightening the space.

She’s dressed casually yet stylishly—a dark blue longarm t-shirt tucked into high-waisted jeans, her long hair loose and, framing her face. Her makeup is minimal, accentuating her natural glow, and her eyes sparkle with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Manager-nim,” she says, her voice warm but tinged with a playful whine, “Just you again this time? No judge, but don’t let me mess this up, okay?” She flashes a teasing grin, plopping into the chair in front of the desk.

You chuckle, adjusting the ring light to catch her best angles. “Don’t worry, Sohyun-ssi. You’re a pro at this. I’m just here to make sure the laptop doesn’t crash, and you don’t start playing unreleased song too much.” She laughs, the sound light and infectious, and swats your arm gently. “Hey, i gotta show result of my work! But fine, I’ll behave… maybe.”

Live ended as you finish tidying the room. The vocal room is quiet now, the hum of the live stream replaced by a gentle stillness. The fairy lights still twinkle, casting a soft glow over the space, and the lavender diffuser continues to release its calming scent.

The laptop is closed, the microphone tucked away, and the ring light turned off, leaving only the warm ambiance of the room.

Sohyun stretches her arms above her head, letting out a small groan as she rolls her shoulders. “Ugh, Manager-nim, I’m so tense,” she says, her voice a mix of exhaustion and lingering adrenaline from the stream.

“My shoulders are killing me. Can you give me a quick massage?"

You’re used to this—being the go-to manager for the members’ impromptu massage requests. Between their grueling schedules, dance practices, and long hours, it’s not uncommon for them to ask for a quick shoulder rub to ease their aches.

You nod, setting aside the last of the equipment you were packing. “Alright, Sohyun-ssi, but just a quick one. You need to rest soon.” She flashes you a grateful smile, her eyes crinkling. “You’re the best, Manager-nim.”

She moves to the small, plush sofa tucked against the wall of the vocal room, a cozy spot often used for breaks during practice. She sits down, her t-shirt shifting slightly as she leans forward, giving you access to her shoulders.

You stand behind her, placing your hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension immediately. Her muscles are tight, knotted from hours of sitting and the subtle stress of performing for the fans. “Wow, you weren’t kidding,” you say, starting to knead gently. “Your shoulders are like rocks.”

She lets out a soft sigh, her head tilting forward as your thumbs work into the knots. “Mmm, that feels so good already,” she murmurs, her voice relaxing.

You focus on the task, your fingers pressing and rolling, working out the tension with practiced ease. But as you slide your hands along her upper back, you realize her t-shirt is bunching up, making it harder to reach the tight spots.

“Mind if I go under your shirt?” you ask, keeping your tone professional. “It’ll be easier to get the knots out.”

“Go for it,” she says, her voice casual but with a hint of something softer. You lift the hem of her t-shirt slightly, sliding your hands underneath.

Her skin is warm, smooth, and you feel the edge of her bra strap as your fingers brush against it. You pause for a split second, but it’s not unusual massages often involve navigating clothing, and you’ve done this with other members without issue. You ignore the slight contact, focusing on the tight muscles along her shoulder blades, pressing firmly.

She melts under your touch, her breathing slowing, small hums of satisfaction escaping her lips. “Manager-nim, you’re too good at this,” she says, her voice almost a purr. “Why aren’t you a professional masseuse?”

You chuckle, keeping the pressure steady. “Then you guys should start paying me for this.”

She laughs softly, the sound warm and intimate in the quiet room. But after a few minutes, she shifts, turning her head slightly to look at you.

“This is nice, but it’s not enough. My whole back’s sore. Can we do something more. Like, I’ll lie down, and you can really work on it?” Her eyes are earnest, but there’s a playful glint in them, a subtle invitation you can’t quite place.

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. “Sure, if that’s what you need. Let’s get on it then.” She moves to lie face-down on the sofa, adjusting a small cushion under her head.

The sofa’s narrow, but she fits perfectly, her body relaxed, her jeans hugging her curves. You kneel above her, but the angle’s awkward, so you carefully straddle her lower back, keeping your weight light to avoid pressing too hard.

“This okay?” you ask, your voice steady despite the sudden awareness of how close you are.

“Mhm,” she hums, her voice muffled by the cushion. “Just do your thing, Manager-nim.” You slide your hands under her shirt again, this time with more access to her back.

Her skin is warm and soft, and you can feel every tense muscle as you work your way up, pressing and kneading with more intensity. She sighs deeply, her body sinking further into the sofa, completely at ease under your touch.

As you work, your hands move higher, brushing the clasp of her bra again, but you keep your focus on the massage, ignoring the fleeting contact. Her back is a map of tension, and you’re determined to ease it.

But then, something shifts. Your body, pressed close as you lean forward, reacts involuntarily. Your cock, hardening despite your efforts to stay professional, presses against the curve of her ass, her jeans accentuating her full, round shape. You freeze, hoping she doesn’t notice, but the contact is unmistakable.

She doesn’t say anything, but you feel her body shift slightly, a subtle acknowledgment. She doesn’t tense or pull away—instead, she relaxes further, as if she expected this, as if it’s just part of the moment.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to focus, and continue the massage, your hands working her shoulders with renewed intensity. The room feels warmer now, the air thick with an unspoken tension, but you both let it linger, unaddressed.

After a few minutes, she speaks, her voice soft but clear, “Manager-nim, can you do my lower back too? And maybe… my stomach? It’s all sore from practice.”

She shifts, rolling onto her back with a fluid motion, her shirt riding up slightly as she settles. Her breasts, full and prominent, rise under the sweater, the outline of her bra visible. Her eyes meet yours, innocent yet knowing, and your heart skips a beat.

“Uh, sure,” you say, your voice catching slightly. You adjust your position, still kneeling over her, trying to keep your composure.

She lifts her sweater higher, exposing the smooth, toned skin of her stomach, stopping just below her bra. The sight is distracting—her flat abdomen, the slight curve of her waist, and the tantalizing edge of her underboob barely hidden by the fabric.

You place your hands on her stomach, starting with gentle, circular motions, feeling the taut muscles beneath her skin.

Her breathing slows, her eyes half-closed as she relaxes under your touch. “That’s nice,” she murmurs, her voice a soft hum.

You keep your movements steady, but your eyes keep drifting upward, drawn to the swell of her breasts, the way they rise and fall with each breath.

Testing the waters, you let your hands slide a little higher, your fingers brushing just below her bra, grazing the sensitive skin of her underboob.

You expect her to flinch or say something, but she doesn’t. Instead, she arches her back slightly, pressing into your touch, her lips parting in a soft sigh.

“Manager-nim,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, “that feels really good.” Her eyes open, locking onto yours, and there’s no mistaking the shift in her gaze—warm, inviting, and tinged with something more.

Your hands pause, resting just below her bra, and the air between you crackles with tension. Your cock, already hard, throbs against your jeans, and you know she must feel it, pressed close as you are.

“Sohyun-ssi” you say, your voice low, careful, “we should probably stop here.” But your hands don’t move, and she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she reaches up, her fingers brushing your wrist, guiding your hand slightly higher, until your fingertips slip just under the edge of her bra.

“Why? I'm not loosen yet. Lets continue, Manager-nim"

She shifts slightly, her hips brushing against you, and the contact sends a jolt through your body. “Can we move to the floor? I think lying on the carpet will help you get the spots better.”

You swallow hard, your professionalism hanging by a thread. “Sohyun-ssi, are you sure? We can stop if you’re feeling okay now.” Your voice is steady, but your pulse is racing, and the heat of her skin under your hands is making it hard to think straight.

She shakes her head, sitting up, her sweater falling back into place momentarily. “No, I need more. Please, Manager-nim. You’re so good at this.” Her tone is earnest, but the way her lips curve into a subtle smile suggests she’s aware of the line you’re both toeing.

You nod, helping her off the sofa. She moves to the fluffy white rug in the center of the vocal room, the same one where she and the other members sometimes sprawl out during breaks.

The carpet is soft, a stark contrast to the hard floor beneath, and it feels like an island of intimacy in the dimly lit space. Sohyun lies down, stretching out on her back, then surprises you by grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head in one fluid motion.

The bra lands in a heap beside her, leaving her in just a black-colored bra that hugs her full breasts, the lace edging barely containing their weight. Her jeans sit low on her hips, exposing the smooth expanse of her stomach and the gentle curve of her waist.

Your breath catches, and you force yourself to look away, focusing on the polaroids on the wall, the lavender diffuser, anything but the sight of her. “Sohyun-ssi” you say, your voice strained, “you didn’t have to take off your sweater. I can still massage you with it on.”

She props herself up on her elbows, her breasts shifting slightly, and gives you a look that’s equal parts innocent and knowing. “It’s fine, Manager-nim. It’s more comfortable this way, and you can reach my shoulders better. I want you to focus on the front this time—my collarbones, my upper chest. It’s so tense there.”

You nod sighly, trying to maintain your composure, before she lies back down, her arms resting by her sides, her body open and relaxed. “Oh, wait,” she says suddenly, sitting up again. “I brought some body lotion. It’ll make the massage feel even better. Can you grab it? It’s in my small bag by the desk.”

“Sure,” you say, grateful for the chance to step away and collect yourself. You stand, adjusting your jeans discreetly, and walk to the desk where her small, dark blue bag sits.

Your hands are steady as you unzip it, but your mind is racing. Inside, you spot a bottle of body lotion—vanilla-scented, judging by the label—and reach for it.

But as your fingers close around the bottle, your eyes catch something else, a small, foil packet tucked into a side pocket. A condom.

Your heart skips a beat, and you freeze, your mind spiraling. Is it just a precaution? Something she carries for someone else? or… is it for this moment? You shake your head, forcing yourself to ignore it, and grab the lotion, zipping the bag shut as if sealing away the temptation.

When you turn back, Sohyun is lying on the rug, her body relaxed, her eyes half-closed but watching you. The black bra contrasts beautifully with her skin, and her breasts, heavy and round, seem to beckon with every breath.

You kneel beside her, uncapping the lotion and squeezing a small amount into your hands, rubbing them together to warm it. “Ready?” you ask, your voice low, trying to keep things professional despite the charged atmosphere.

“Mhm,” she hums, her voice soft and inviting. “Start with my shoulders, please. Right around my collarbones.” You position yourself at her head, your knees on either side of her shoulders, careful not to press too close.

Your hands, slick with lotion, glide over her collarbones, your fingers tracing the delicate bones before moving to the muscles just below. Her skin is warm, silky, and the lotion makes your touch smooth, almost too intimate. You focus on the task, pressing gently, feeling the tension in her upper chest.

Sohyun sighs, her eyes fluttering closed, her lips parting slightly. “That’s perfect,” she murmurs, her voice a soft moan that sends a shiver down your spine.

Your hands work in slow, deliberate circles, moving from her collarbones to the tops of her shoulders, then lower, just above the swell of her breasts. You’re careful to avoid her bra, but the proximity is maddening, the lace edge teasingly close. Your cock is rock-hard now, the bulge unmistakable, and you shift slightly, hoping she doesn’t notice.

But she does. Her eyes open briefly, glancing down at your crotch, and a small, knowing smile plays on her lips before she closes her eyes again. “You’re really good at this, Manager-nim,” she says, her voice laced with something deeper.

“Don’t stop.” The words feel like a challenge, a permission, and you swallow hard, your hands continuing their work.

Her breathing deepens, her chest rising and falling, her breasts straining against the bra with each inhale.

“Lower,” she whispers, her voice barely audible but unmistakable, “My chest… it’s so tight there.” Your hands pause, your heart pounding.

“Sohyun-ssi” you say, your voice hoarse, “are you sure? I don’t want to cross any lines.” She opens her eyes, looking up at you, her gaze steady and unafraid. “You’re not crossing anything, Manager-nim. Just… help me feel good.”

You nod, your throat tight, and let your hands slide lower, your fingers brushing the tops of her breasts, just above the bra’s lace. The skin there is soft, warm, and you knead gently, keeping your touch therapeutic, though the line is blurring fast.

Her sighs turn to soft moans, her body arching slightly into your hands, and you feel the heat radiating from her. Your cock presses against your jeans, aching, and you know she can see it, feel it in the air between you.

You want to stay professional, to do your job, but her warmth, her body—they’re pulling you under as you let your hands slide lower, more centered, your palms brushing the swell of her breasts, still over the bra.

The bra is thin, teasingly delicate, and you can feel the softness beneath, yielding under your touch. Sohyun doesn’t flinch or pull away, instead, she sighs softly, her eyes half-closed, a subtle arch in her back pressing her chest into your hands. The invitation is clear—she’s not just allowing this, she’s savoring it.

Emboldened, you grow braver. Your fingers, no longer just massaging, begin to gently knead, squeezing her breasts through the bra.

Her breasts are plush, heavy, and the lace does little to dull the warmth of her skin. Sohyun’s breathing deepens, a soft hum escaping her lips, but she remains still.

Your hands explore further, tracing the contours of her breasts, and then, with a cautious boldness, your fingertips find the slight protrusion of her nipples through the bra.

They’re hard, straining against the lace, and you test the waters, brushing them lightly with your thumbs. Her body tenses briefly, a quiet gasp slipping out, but she doesn’t stop you.

Her eyes flutter open, meeting yours, and the look in them—warm, hazy, consenting—spurs you on. You circle her nipples again, more deliberately, feeling them stiffen further under your touch. Your hands linger, squeezing her breasts more firmly now, your thumbs teasing her nipples with slow, deliberate strokes.

No words pass between you and her—none are needed. With a gentle but firm motion, you slide your hands under her back, lifting her slightly off the rug.

She understands immediately, arching to give you access. Your fingers find the clasp of her bra, and with a deft flick, it comes undone. She shifts to help you, lifting her arms as you pull the bra free, tossing it aside.

Her breasts, now fully exposed, are breathtaking—full, heavy, and perfect, her nipples dark and hardened, standing out against her smooth skin. The sight sends a fresh wave of heat through you, your cock twitching in her hand.

She doesn’t hesitate either. Her fingers move to your jeans, fumbling briefly with the button before popping it open. She tugs it down, pulling your jeans and boxers to your knees in one swift motion, leaving you as exposed as she is.

Your cock springs free, hard and aching, and her hand returns to it, stroking with a slow, deliberate rhythm that makes your breath hitch. The vulnerability, the rawness of this moment, only heightens the intensity—both of you bared, unguarded, giving in to the pull of desire.

Your gazes lock, and her expression is unmistakable, a hunger that mirrors your own. There’s no doubt, no hesitation in her eyes—she wants this as much as you do.

You lean down, your hands never leaving her breasts, and capture her lips in a kiss. It’s not gentle, it’s hungry, urgent, your mouths moving together with a desperation that’s been building all night.

Her lips are soft, warm, and she tastes faintly of the candy she ate during the stream, sweet and addictive. Her tongue meets yours, tentative at first, then bolder, deepening the kiss as her moans vibrate against your mouth.

Your lips part from hers, the kiss leaving you both breathless, your faces inches apart. “Manager-nim,” she whispers, her voice husky, trembling with want, “we do it.”

Her words are a spark, igniting the last of your restraint. Her free hand moves to her jeans, fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper.

She lifts her hips, sliding the denim down her thighs, revealing a pair of simple black panties, a faint damp spot betraying her arousal. The jeans pool at her ankles, and she kicks them off, leaving her in just the thin fabric.

“Sohyun-ssi” you say, your voice low, rough with caution and desire, “this… you’re okay?” You need to hear it, need her confirmation, even as your body screams to keep going.

She nods, her expression unwavering, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Like last time,” she says softly, her voice carrying a teasing edge that stirs memories of a stolen night months ago, one you’ve both avoided mentioning since.

You snort, a mix of amusement and exasperation breaking the tension. “Don’t bring that up again,” you mutter, but the shared history only deepens the moment, a secret thread binding you.

Her smile widens, but her eyes stay locked on yours, heavy with intent. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down slowly, revealing her pussy—glistening, slightly wet, a trail of clear, sticky fluid clinging to the fabric as she pulls it away. The sight is dizzying, her folds pink and inviting, and your cock twitches in her hand.

“When was the last time you saw this?” she asks, her voice playful but laced with seduction, her legs parting slightly to give you a better view.

You swallow hard, your mouth dry. “About time,” you reply, your voice rough, the memory of her body flooding back—her taste, her warmth, the way she felt under you that one reckless night.

You move closer, kneeling between her legs, your hands sliding up her thighs, feeling the soft, warm skin. She lies back fully on the rug, her body open, trusting.

You lower yourself, your lips brushing the inside of her thigh, teasingly close to her center. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you drag your tongue along her pussy, tasting her for the first time in months.

She’s sweet, slightly tangy, her arousal coating your tongue as you lick from her entrance to her clit. The flavor is intoxicating, familiar yet electrifying, and a low moan escapes her lips.

“Ahh, Manager-nim,” she breathes, her hands finding your hair, fingers tangling gently as she guides you closer. You dive in, your tongue exploring her folds, circling her clit before sucking it gently. Her hips buck slightly, her moans growing louder, filling the room with the sound of her pleasure.

You pull back, her juices coating your lips, and meet her gaze. Her eyes are heavy with lust, her chest heaving, nipples hard against the dim light.

You shift positioning yourself between her legs, your hands gripping her thighs as you line up your cock with her slick entrance. Her pussy is wet enough to ease the way, the tip of your cock brushing her folds, ready to slide in.

But then, her hand presses against your chest, stopping you. “Condom, Manager-nim,” she says, her voice firm yet soft, a mix of urgency and care cutting through the haze of desire. Her words jolt you, grounding you for a moment. You blink, catching your breath, the reality of the situation sinking in.

The condom in her bag—you’d seen it earlier, tucked away like a quiet promise.

You nod, swallowing hard, your throat tight. “Right,” you murmur, your voice rough. You pull back, your cock aching at the sudden pause, and stand, stepping over to her small bag on the desk.

Your jeans are still around your knees, and you tug them up just enough to move comfortably. Unzipping the bag, you find the body lotion again, but your fingers quickly locate the foil packet, its presence a stark reminder of the boundaries you’re navigating. You grab it, ignoring the way your hands tremble slightly, and return to her.

Sohyun is still lying on the rug, her body a vision—breasts full and bare, her pussy glistening, her legs parted just enough to invite you back.

She watches you, her eyes warm but steady, a small smile playing on her lips. “Good,” she says softly, her voice reassuring, as you tear open the packet and roll the condom onto your cock, the latex snug and smooth.

You kneel between her legs again, your hands sliding up her thighs, spreading them gently. Her breath hitches as you line up once more, the tip of your cock brushing her entrance, now safely sheathed.

“You okay?” you ask, your voice low, needing her confirmation one last time. She nods, her hand reaching for yours, squeezing lightly. “I’m okay,"

With that, you push forward, sliding into her slowly, her wet heat enveloping you. She gasps, her head tilting back, and you groan at the tightness, the way her pussy grips you even through the condom.

Her pussy is tight, wet, and impossibly warm, gripping you through the condom as you move, each slow, deliberate push drawing a moan from her lips.

Her naked form is breathtaking—breasts full and bouncing slightly with each rhythm, nipples hard, her thighs parted wide to welcome you. Her hands grip your arms, nails digging in lightly, and her eyes, dark with lust, lock onto yours, urging you deeper. The rug beneath you cushions your knees, the lavender scent drowned out by the raw, musky heat of your bodies.

“Manager-nim,” she gasps, her voice a breathy moan, her hips rolling to meet your thrusts. The sound of her calling you that, even now, sends a jolt through you, blending authority with intimacy in a way that drives you wild.

You lean down, kissing her deeply, your tongues tangling as you quicken your pace, the slick friction of her pussy pushing you closer to the edge. Her moans vibrate against your lips, her body arching, pressing her breasts against your chest, the sensation of her soft skin overwhelming.

You feel her tightening around you, her breaths coming faster, her moans turning to whimpers. “I’m… I’m close,” she whispers, her voice trembling, her legs wrapping around your waist, pulling you deeper.

You thrust harder, your hands gripping her hips, the condom doing nothing to dull the intensity of her heat.

Her body tenses, her back arching off the rug, and then she’s cumming, a sharp cry escaping her lips as her pussy clenches around you, pulsing in waves. “Manager-nim!” she gasps, her juices flooding, making each thrust slicker, hotter.

The sight of her—head thrown back, breasts heaving, her face flushed with pleasure—pushes you over the edge. Your own climax builds, a tight coil of heat in your core, and you know you can’t hold back. “Sohyun-ssi” you groan, your voice rough, and with a few more thrusts, you feel the release surging.

You pull out quickly, your hands fumbling to peel off the condom, the latex slipping free just in time.

Kneeling above her, you stroke your cock once, twice, and then you cum, hot spurts landing across her stomach and breasts, painting her skin in glistening streaks.

She moans softly, her eyes half-closed, watching you with a mix of satisfaction and awe, her body still trembling from her own orgasm.

You collapse back on the rug, both of you panting, the air heavy with the scent of sex and sweat. Her breasts, now streaked with your cum, rise and fall as she catches her breath, a small, sated smile on her lips.

“Manager-nim,” she murmurs, turning her head to look at you, “that was… intense.” You nod, your heart still racing, the reality of what just happened sinking in.

•

Sohyun pulls on her jeans and sweater, smoothing her hair as if nothing happened, but the flush in her cheeks and the glint in her eyes tell a different story.

You gather the used tissues, her body lotion, and the condom wrapper, stuffing them into a small plastic bag she pulls from her small bag.

She ties it tightly, clenching the bag in her hand, a tangible symbol of the secret you now share. “No trace left,” she says softly, her voice steady, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she glances at you. You exhale, running a hand through your hair, the reality of your role as her manager crashing back.

“Twice now,” she says, her tone teasing but probing, her eyes searching yours. “We gonna do this again?” The question hangs in the air, light but loaded, a challenge wrapped in a promise.

You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of your position pressing down. “Huft… I don’t know if I can keep being your manager like this,” you admit, your voice low, half-joking but laced with truth.

She steps closer, her smile softening, her eyes warm but mischievous. “Don’t worry, Manager-nim,” she says, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “My lips are sealed… until then.”

Her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she turns, clutching the plastic bag. She opens the door of the vocal room, slipping out into the quiet dorm hallway, leaving you alone.

#girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #triples smut #male reader smut #male reader #triples sohyun #tripleS sohyun smut

275 notes · View notes