The knock on your door comes right at 7:34 PM. You know because you've been watching the delivery tracker obsessively for the last fifteen minutes, stomach growling.
You open the door and—fuck.
This delivery girl is gorgeous.
Fucking stupidly gorgeous. Dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, fitted black polo, sharp features and full lips. That perfect mix between hot and cute that leaves your brain feeling a little fuzzy. She's holding your pizza box in one hand, phone in the other, looking completely professional.
"Large pepperoni?" Her voice is matter-of-fact.
"Yeah, that's me." You take the box. It's warm against your hands.
She's already swiping on her phone, pulling up the payment screen. "Comes to $24.20 with delivery."
You set the pizza on the entryway table. Pat your pockets. Empty. Shit. Your wallet is—where the fuck is your wallet? Probably in your bedroom. Or maybe the couch. Definitely not on you.
"Uh." You pat your pockets again like that'll make it materialize. "So funny story—"
She looks up from her phone. Waiting.
Your brain chooses this moment to be absolutely stupid. Maybe it's because you've been watching too much porn lately. Maybe it's because she's hot and you're flustered. Maybe you're just an idiot.
Probably that last one.
"I don't actually have my card on me right now," you say, and then your mouth keeps going without permission. "Is there maybe another way I could pay?"
It's a joke. Obviously a joke. You're going to laugh it off and go grab your wallet in like two seconds.
She doesn't laugh.
Just looks at you. Straight-faced. Expression completely neutral.
"Another way," she repeats slowly.
Oh fuck. Oh shit. Abort.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding—" You're already backing up, hands raised. "Bad joke, I'll go get my wallet right now, it's in my—"
"What did you mean?" She tilts her head slightly. Still no expression. "Another way to pay?"
Your face is hot. "It's stupid, it's this dumb trope from like, porn and stuff online, you know—" Why are you still talking? Stop talking. "The whole pizza delivery thing where the guy doesn't have money so they—and it's obviously not real, I didn't mean to—"
"So you were suggesting sex instead of cash." She says it like she's confirming your pizza order. Completely casual.
You want to die. "I wasn't—I mean, yeah, that's the trope, but I wasn't actually—"
"Okay."
Your brain short-circuits. "What?"
"Okay." She pockets her phone. Takes a step forward into your apartment. "Let's do that instead."
She's fucking with you. She has to be fucking with you.
"You're joking."
"Am I?" She takes another step. You take one back automatically. She's smirking now, just a little, and it completely transforms her face from professional to something that makes your pulse kick up. "You made the offer."
"I didn't—that wasn't an actual offer, I was joking—"
"Were you?" Another step. You're backing further into your apartment now and she's following, closing the door behind her with her heel. "Because you're still standing here. Haven't gone to get your wallet."
Fuck, she's right.
"I—"
"Here's what I think." She's close now. Close enough that you can smell her perfume, something light and sweet. "I think you made that joke because some part of you hoped I'd say yes. And now that I am saying yes, you don't know what to do with yourself."
Your back hits the wall. When did you run out of room?
"I don't—this doesn't actually happen in real life—"
"Doesn't it?" She's right in front of you now, looking up at you with dark eyes and that little smirk still playing at her lips. "Seems like it's happening right now."
Your heart is pounding so hard she can probably see it. "You're serious."
"Dead serious." Her hand comes up, fingers playing with the collar of your shirt. "Unless you actually want to go get your wallet? We can do this the boring way if you prefer."
This is insane. She's insane. This doesn't happen.
"What's your name?" you manage.
"Jiyeon." Her fingers slide down from your collar to your chest. "And you're going to want to remember that, because you'll be saying it a lot in the next hour."
Fuck it. Fuck it.
"Bedroom's down the hall," you hear yourself say.
Her smirk widens into a full grin. "Good choice."
She pulls you down the hall and you're stumbling after her like an idiot, brain still trying to catch up to what's happening. This is real. This is actually happening.
Jiyeon pushes you into your bedroom and you barely register the mess—clothes on the floor, unmade bed—before she's on you. Hands sliding under your shirt, pushing it up.
"Off," she says simply, and you obey without thinking.
Shirt hits the floor. She's looking at you now, eyes dragging down your chest, your stomach, lower. That fucking smirk is still there.
She's actually checking you out.
"Not bad," she says, like she's judging furniture. Then her hands are on your belt.
"Wait—" Your hands cover hers. "Shouldn't we—I mean—"
"What?" She looks up at you, tilting her head. "Having second thoughts?"
"No, I just—this is insane, you know that right? You don't actually have to—"
"I know I don't have to." She pulls your belt free in one smooth motion. "I want to. Now stop overthinking and let me work."
Your jeans hit the floor. You're standing there in your boxers, half-hard already, and she hasn't even taken off her shirt yet.
"That's not fair," you manage.
"What's not fair?"
"You're still dressed."
That smirk again. "So undress me."
Your hands are shaking when you reach for her. Stupid. You've done this before. But something about the way she's watching you makes you feel like a fucking virgin.
You grab the hem of her polo. She raises her arms and you pull it off.
Holy fuck.
Black bra. Simple, no lace or anything, but the way it's holding her—fuck. Her tits are perfect. Not huge but full, straining against the cups.
"Keep going," she says.
You reach for her jeans. Button, zipper, sliding them down her hips. She steps out of them and kicks them aside. Black panties matching the bra. Her legs are toned, thighs that you're already imagining wrapped around—
Focus.
"Lie down," she says, and it's not a request.
You sit on the bed. She pushes your shoulder and you fall back, head hitting the pillow. Then she's climbing on top of you, straddling your hips, and you can feel the heat of her through your boxers, through her panties.
She leans down and kisses you. Her tongue slides into your mouth and you groan, hands coming up to grab her waist. Her skin is soft and warm and she's grinding down on you, slow circles that have your cock throbbing.
"Already hard," she murmurs against your mouth. "That was fast."
"Your fault," you manage.
"Good." She sits up, still straddling you, and reaches back to unhook her bra. It falls away and her tits bounce free and you can't help but stare.
Perfect. They're fucking perfect.
She notices you staring and laughs. "You can touch them, you know."
You do. Both hands coming up to cup her tits, thumbs brushing over her nipples. They're already hard, pebbled peaks that make her breath catch when you circle them.
"Fuck," she breathes, grinding down harder. "That's good—"
You lean up and take one nipple in your mouth. She gasps, hand coming to the back of your head, holding you there. You suck and lick and she's rocking against you faster now, little sounds escaping her throat.
"Enough," she says suddenly, pushing you back down. "My turn."
She slides down your body. Hooks her fingers in your boxers. Pulls them down.
Your cock springs free and she pauses, just looking at it. You're fully hard now, tip already leaking, and the way she's staring is making you throb.
"Not bad at all," she says, wrapping one hand around your shaft.
The touch makes you gasp. She strokes once, twice, thumb swiping over the head and spreading the precum. Then she looks up at you with those dark eyes.
"I'm going to ride your face," she says casually. "And you're going to make me cum. Think you can handle that?"
Is she serious?
She's already moving, climbing up your body. Panties sliding off somewhere along the way. And then she's there, right above your face, her pussy inches from your mouth.
You can see everything. She's already wet, glistening, and the smell of her hits you—sweet and musky and making your mouth water.
"Well?" She's looking down at you, waiting.
You grab her thighs and pull her down.
Fuck yes.
The taste of her explodes on your tongue. Sweet and tangy and addictive. You lick up through her folds and she gasps, hips jerking.
"Oh fuck—" Her hands brace against the wall above your headboard. "That's it—"
You do it again. Slower this time, really tasting her. She's so wet already, coating your tongue, and you can't get enough. You find her clit and circle it, and her thighs tighten around your head.
"Fuck, right there—"
She's grinding down on your face now, using your mouth, and you're drowning in her. Your hands grip her ass, pulling her closer, tongue working her clit while she rides your face. Every breath is full of her scent, every sound she makes going straight to your aching cock.
"So fucking good with your tongue—" Her voice is breathy now, losing that confident edge. "Don't stop, don't fucking stop—"
You slide your tongue lower, dipping inside her. She's so tight, clenching around your tongue, and the moan she makes is desperate.
"Yes—oh god, fuck me with your tongue—"
You do. Fucking her with your tongue while your nose presses against her clit. She's dripping now, wetness coating your chin, your lips, and she's grinding so hard you can barely breathe but you don't care. All you care about is that taste, those sounds, the way her thighs are trembling.
"Gonna cum—" She's gasping now, rhythm getting erratic. "Fuck, gonna cum on your face—"
You focus back on her clit. Sucking it into your mouth, flicking it with your tongue, and she breaks. Her whole body goes rigid, thighs clamping around your head, and she cums with a sharp cry.
"Fuck—fuck—oh fuck—"
You can feel her pulsing against your tongue, gushing wetness, and you lap it all up. She's shaking through it, hands gripping the wall so hard her knuckles are white. You keep going, drawing it out, until she's pushing at your head.
"Too much—sensitive—"
She lifts off your face and collapses next to you on the bed, chest heaving. You're gasping for air, face covered in her, cock throbbing so hard it hurts.
Holy shit.
She recovers faster than you expect. Rolls over to look at you, takes in your soaked face and grins.
"Good boy," she says, and then she's kissing you. Tasting herself on your tongue. Her hand wraps around your cock again and you groan into her mouth.
"My turn," she murmurs, and before you can process that she's moving. Straddling your hips again, hand guiding your cock to her entrance.
Wait—
She sinks down in one smooth motion.
"Fuck!" You both say it at the same time.
She's so fucking tight. Hot and wet and squeezing your cock so tight you can't feel anything else. You grab her hips, fingers digging in, trying to process the sensation of being inside her.
"So fucking big—" She's panting, hands braced on your chest. "Stretching me so good—"
She starts moving. Slow at first, rolling her hips, and every movement has you seeing stars. Her pussy is gripping your cock so tight, so wet, and the sight of her above you—tits bouncing, head thrown back, lips parted—is almost too much.
"Jiyeon—fuck—"
"Yeah?" She looks down at you, grinning. "Feel good?"
"So fucking good—you're so tight—"
She picks up the pace. Bouncing now, really riding you, and the sound of skin slapping fills the room. Her tits are bouncing with each drop, and you can't look away. Can't think. Can only feel how fucking perfect her pussy feels wrapped around your cock.
"Touch me," she gasps. "Play with my tits—"
You do. Hands coming up to squeeze, to pinch her nipples, and she moans loud.
"Yes—fuck yes—so fucking deep inside me—"
She's taking your whole cock, every inch disappearing into her tight cunt, and you can see it—see where you're connected, see how wet she is, coating your shaft.
"Gonna make you cum," she pants, grinding down harder. "Gonna milk that cock—you want that? Want to cum inside this tight little pussy?"
Fuck. Fuck.
"Yes—god yes—"
"Then give it to me—" She's slamming down on you now, chasing her own pleasure. "Fill me up—want to feel you cum inside me—"
You're so close. Her pussy is clenching around you, so wet and hot and perfect. You thrust up to meet her, matching her rhythm, and she cries out.
"Fuck—yes—fuck me—"
It builds fast. Pressure coiling tight in your gut, balls tightening, and Jiyeon's moaning your name over and over.
"Cum for me—cum inside me—"
You do. Your orgasm hits like a fucking truck, hips slamming up as you empty yourself inside her. She grinds down, taking it all, and you can feel yourself pulsing, filling her, so much cum pumping into her tight cunt.
"Yes—yes—so fucking much—" She's still moving, milking every last drop, and her pussy is clenching rhythmically, squeezing you.
You collapse back, spent, and she slumps forward onto your chest. Both of you breathing hard. Your cock is still inside her, softening slowly, and you can feel the mess you made—your cum leaking out around your shaft.
She shifts slightly and more drips out. The sensation makes your breath hitch.
"Fuck," she murmurs against your chest. "That was good."
"Yeah."
She lifts her head to look at you, grinning. "You lasted longer than I thought you would."
"Thanks, I think?"
"It's a compliment." She kisses your jaw, then your neck. "Most guys would've blown in two minutes with me riding them like that."
Your hands are on her waist. Holding her. Her skin is so soft under your palms.
"Round two?" she asks, grinding down slightly. Your cock twitches inside her.
Something shifts in your brain.
"Yeah," you say, and your grip on her waist tightens. "But my turn now."
Her eyebrows raise. "Oh?"
You roll. She gasps as you flip her onto her back, pulling out in the process. More cum spills out of her, dripping onto your sheets, and she's looking up at you with wide eyes.
"My turn to be in charge," you say.
That smirk returns. "Took you long enough to find your spine."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
You kiss her. Hard. Claiming her mouth the way she claimed yours earlier, and she moans into it. Your hand slides between her legs, fingers pushing into her cum-filled pussy.
She gasps against your lips. "Fuck—"
"So fucking messy," you mutter, fingers working in and out. "Full of my cum and still so tight."
"Your fault—" Her hips buck up into your hand. "Came so much inside me—"
You pull your fingers out. They're coated in cum and her wetness mixed together. You bring them to her lips.
"Clean them."
She does. Takes your fingers in her mouth and sucks them clean, tongue swirling around them, eyes locked on yours the whole time.
Your cock is hardening again. Already. Watching her suck your fingers, tasting both of you mixed together, it's getting you hard again so fucking fast.
"Good girl," you say when she releases your fingers with a pop.
She grins. "What now?"
You grab her hips. Flip her over onto her stomach.
"Now I'm going to fuck that pretty throat of yours."
"Big words," she says. "Think you can back them up?"
You grab her hips and pull her to the edge of the bed. Her legs dangle off the side, toes barely touching the floor. Then you walk around to face her.
Your cock is right there, inches from her face. Fully hard again, tip already leaking.
"Open," you say.
She does. Mouth falling open, tongue out, and fuck—the sight of her like this. Ready and waiting.
You push in slowly. Just the tip at first, resting on her tongue. She closes her lips around you and sucks gently.
"Wider," you tell her. "I'm going to use that throat."
Her jaw drops open more. You grab the back of her head with one hand, the other braced on the bed beside her, and slap it a few times on her tongue.
Then you push in deeper.
The heat of her mouth hits you instantly. Wet and soft and perfect. You slide in further, past her tongue, and she gags slightly when you hit the back of her throat.
"Breathe through your nose," you mutter, holding there for a second. "Relax that throat."
She does. Takes a breath and you feel her throat relax around you. You push in more and she takes it, eyes watering but not pulling away.
"Good girl. Take this fucking cock."
You start moving. Slow thrusts at first, watching your cock disappear into her mouth over and over. Her lips are stretched around you, drool already starting to leak from the corners of her mouth.
"So fucking pretty like this," you grunt. "Mouth full of cock."
She moans around you and the vibration makes you thrust harder. Deeper. You hit the back of her throat and she gags, throat clenching around your tip, but you don't pull out. Just hold there until she adjusts.
"That's it. Choke on it."
You pick up the pace. Really fucking her throat now, both hands on her head, holding her in place while you use her mouth. She's gagging with every thrust, drool pouring down her chin, tears streaming from her eyes.
The sounds she's making—wet and obscene, gurgling around your cock—it's fucking perfect.
"Such a good little slut," you pant. "Taking my cock so deep in that throat."
Your balls slap against her chin with each thrust. She's trying to breathe between strokes, gasping when you pull back, and her hands grip the sheets.
You pull out completely. She gasps for air, drool connecting your cock to her lips in thick strings. Her makeup is ruined, mascara running, lips swollen and shiny.
"Fuck," she croaks, voice already rough. "You weren't kidding."
"I'm not done yet."
You push back in and she takes it. No hesitation. Just opens wide and lets you fuck her throat harder than before. You're not gentle anymore—don't need to be. She can take it.
The wet, sloppy sounds fill the room. Her gagging, your grunting, the slap of your balls against her face. It's so fucking dirty and she's loving it, moaning around your cock even as she struggles to breathe.
"Gonna cum soon if you keep that up," you warn, but you don't stop thrusting. "Want me to cum down your throat? Fill that belly with my load?"
She tries to shake her head but can't with your cock buried in her throat. Her hand comes up and pushes at your thigh.
You pull out. "No?"
She's coughing, gasping, drool everywhere. "Want it—" Another cough. "Want it in my pussy again. Please."
Fuck yes.
You pull her up by her hair. Not rough enough to hurt but enough to make her gasp. Then you're kissing her, tasting yourself on her tongue, and she moans into your mouth.
"On your hands and knees," you tell her. "Now."
She scrambles to obey. Gets on all fours on the bed, ass in the air, and looks back at you.
Her pussy is still a mess from before. Your cum has dripped down her thighs, dried in some places but still wet where it's leaking out of her. She's so fucking wet, glistening in the light.
You kneel behind her on the bed. One hand on her ass, the other guiding your spit-soaked cock to her entrance.
"Beg for it," you say.
"Please." No hesitation. "Please fuck me. Want that cock so deep inside me."
"More."
"Please—" Her voice breaks. "Need you to fuck me hard, wreck this tight little pussy, fill me up again with your cum—"
You slam in.
She cries out, back arching, and you're buried balls deep in one thrust. So fucking tight still, even with your cum already inside her. Hot and wet and squeezing your cock like she's trying to keep you there.
"Fuck!" She's gripping the sheets. "So deep—oh my god—"
You don't give her time to adjust. Just start pounding into her, hips slapping against her ass with each thrust. The sound of it echoes through the room—skin on skin, wet and loud.
"This what you wanted?" you grunt, fingers digging into her hips hard enough to leave marks. "To get fucked like a slut?"
"Yes—fuck yes—"
Her ass bounces with each impact. You watch your cock disappearing into her pussy over and over, coated in white from your first load mixed with her wetness. It's so fucking messy, dripping down both your thighs.
You lean forward, pressing her face down into the mattress. The angle changes and you go even deeper. She's practically screaming now, muffled by the bed, and her pussy clenches around you.
"So fucking tight," you pant. "Squeezing my cock so good."
"Harder—" Her voice is muffled but desperate. "Fuck me harder—"
You do. Pounding into her with everything you have. The bed is shaking, headboard hitting the wall, and she's taking every inch like she was made for it.
One hand slides up her back, feeling her arch under your touch. Her skin is slick with sweat. You grab a handful of her hair and pull, lifting her head up.
"Who's fucking you this good?" you demand.
"You—fuck—you are—"
"Say my name."
She does. Moans it over and over while you rail her from behind. Your name mixed with curses and desperate pleas for more.
Your other hand comes down hard on her ass. The slap echoes and she clenches around you, crying out.
"Again," she gasps. "Spank me again—"
You do. Over and over, watching her ass turn pink under your hand. Each slap makes her pussy clench, makes her moan louder, and fuck—she's loving this.
"Such a dirty girl," you growl. "Love getting spanked while taking cock?"
"Yes—love it—love your cock stretching me—"
You're getting close. That familiar pressure building in your gut, balls tightening. But you want to see her face when you cum.
You pull out. She whines at the loss but you're already flipping her over, pulling her to the edge of the bed. Her legs wrap around your waist automatically and you slam back in.
"Oh fuck—" Her head falls back. "Yes—"
This angle is perfect. You can see everything—her tits bouncing with each thrust, her face flushed and sweaty, her pussy stretched around your cock. And she can see you too, watch you fuck her.
"Look at me," you command. "Want to see those pretty eyes when I fill you up."
She does. Locks eyes with you and doesn't look away even as you pound into her. Her mouth falls open, desperate little sounds escaping with each thrust.
"Gonna cum," you warn. "Gonna fill this tight pussy with another load."
"Please—" Her nails dig into your back. "Want it so bad—need to feel you cum inside me again—"
You're so close. Her pussy is clenching rhythmically now, so wet and tight and perfect around your cock.
"Touch yourself," you grunt. "Cum on my cock."
Her hand flies between you, fingers working her clit frantically. Within seconds she's right there, you can feel it in how she's tightening around you.
"Fuck—I'm gonna—"
"Do it. Cum for me."
She does. Her whole body seizes up, pussy clamping down on your cock so hard you can barely move. She's crying out your name, shaking through it, and that's what pushes you over.
"Fuck—Jiyeon—fuck—"
You slam in deep and cum. Hard. Emptying yourself inside her for the second time, adding to the mess already there. So much cum pumping into her tight cunt, and she's still pulsing around you, milking every drop.
"Yes—yes—fill me up—so much cum—"
You keep thrusting through it, working every last bit out of your balls until you're completely spent. When you finally stop, both of you are gasping for air, sweaty and exhausted.
You pull out slowly. Cum immediately starts leaking out—your second load mixing with the first, dripping onto the sheets. There's so fucking much of it, coating her thighs, making a mess.
"Fuck," she breathes, looking down at herself. "You really filled me up."
"Twice," you point out, collapsing beside her.
She laughs, breathless. "Yeah. Definitely twice."
You both lie there for a moment, catching your breath. Her hand finds yours and squeezes.
"So," she says eventually. "Worth the twenty-four dollars?"
You laugh. Can't help it. "Definitely worth it."
"Good." She rolls onto her side to face you, grinning. "Because I'm keeping the pizza too."
She grabs your hand, thumb tracing lazy circles on your palm.
"Your sheets are ruined," she says after a moment.
You glance down. She's not wrong. There's cum everywhere—on the sheets, on her thighs, probably on you too. The whole bed is a disaster.
"Worth it," you say.
She laughs. Sits up slowly, wincing slightly. "Fuck, I'm gonna feel that tomorrow."
"Good."
"Cocky now, aren't you?" She stretches, arms over her head, and you can't help but watch. Even exhausted and covered in mess, she's gorgeous.
She notices you staring and smirks. "Already?"
"Just looking."
"Sure." She swings her legs off the bed, stands up. More cum drips down her thighs and she makes a face. "Okay, I need a shower. Where's your bathroom?"
You point. "Down the hall, first door on the left."
She walks toward it, completely naked and unbothered, and you just lie there watching her go. The confident sway of her hips, the curve of her ass, the mess you made dripping down her legs.
The shower turns on. You hear the water running, her moving around.
You should probably get up. Change the sheets at minimum. But moving feels impossible right now.
Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You grab it.
Three texts from your roommate:
dude are you alive
heard some WILD shit through the wall
staying at shion's tonight you're welcome
You laugh and toss the phone back down.
The shower shuts off. A few minutes later Jiyeon emerges, hair damp, using your towel. She's still naked.
"You have a washing machine?" she asks.
"Yeah, why?"
"My uniform's sweaty as hell. Mind if I throw it in?"
"Go ahead."
She disappears again. You hear the washer start up.
When she comes back, she climbs onto the bed—the dry corner that's not completely destroyed—and lies down next to you.
"So," she says. "This is weird, right?"
"Extremely."
"Good weird or bad weird?"
You think about it.
"Good weird," you decide.
She grins. "Yeah. Good weird."
You're both quiet for a bit.
"My shift ends in like an hour," she says eventually. "Technically I'm still on the clock."
"Seriously?"
"Yep. Longest delivery ever." She's trying not to laugh. "My boss is probably having an aneurysm."
"Are you gonna get fired?"
"Maybe." She doesn't sound concerned. "Worth it though."
"Keep saying that."
"Because it's true." She rolls onto her side to face you. "Besides, I know where you live now. Can always come back."
"For my amazing personality?"
"For the dick." She says it so casually. "Your personality's just a bonus."
You laugh. Can't help it.
"Same time next week?" you offer.
"Make it two days." She leans in and kisses you. Soft this time, almost sweet. "I'm impatient."
Tags/TW: A bit all over the place..., Silly Nonsense, Idk What's Wrong With Me..., Dialogue Heavy, Slow Burn?, Playing Games, Teasing, Tipsy, Making Out, Stripping, 4some, GxG, Face Sitting, 69, Fingering, Squirting, Pissing, Drinking Bodily Fluids, Fisting, Mating Press, Blowjobs, Pussy & Ass Eating, Anal Sex, Anal Gaping, Small Anal Prolapsing, Shower Sex, Foot Job, Fluffy Sex, Creampie, Breeding?
Authors note: This was supposed to be a birthday release for them, but as you can see, it's not February anymore😭 Anyway... by far my longest work, so have fun reading this nonsense lol
Masterlist
It's that time of the year again, February, your 3 best friends' birthday month. Yooyeon, Yubin & Jiyeon have been your closest friends for years, been through thick and thin. In preparation for this yearly celebration, you stocked up on a couple bottles of Soju, their favorite snacks and some board games. Tomorrow was the day of the get-together, the girls were all giddy for it, more than usual. "Are they up to something?" You wonder to yourself. In the middle of your thoughts, your phone vibrates, new message in the group chat:
>Ice Princess: "Oppa, got everything prepped for our special day?"
>You: "Of course! Even got you guys' favorite Japanese snacks."
>Ballerina: "OMOO YOU'RE THE BEST!"
>Yubami: "Look at this gentleman, taking such good care of us."
>You: "Always! You girls are my everything..."
>Ice Princess: "Oh stop that, you're gonna make me feel something..."
>Yubami: "sobbing... stop"
>Ballerina: "oppaaaaaa :("
>You: "ALRIIIIIGHT, see y'all tomorrow❤️
The next day came quickly, now only a couple hours till they come over. Putting on some "fancy" clothes, a simple white button-up shirt and some black jeans. Then finally the door rings, *Ding Dong*, you look at the screen and see the three beautiful ladies. "Sorry, I'm not interested" you say through the intercom. Yooyeon rolls her eyes, "Shut up and let us in, idiot." Yubin laughs while Jiyeon is distracted with her phone. "Alright alright, come in." You press the door opener and let them in, waiting for them to get to your apartment's floor. A minute later you hear voices in the hallway, can't quite make out what they're saying, only hearing giggles right when they get to your door and a "shhh" before they stand in front of the door. You see them through the peephole, they're outfits barely hiding their features. "Damn... they're so hot." You think to yourself. "Open the damn door already, I know you're watching us through the peephole you perv." To that blasphemous assumption you open the door, "Perv? Really? It's not like I'm spying in while y'all are changing." Yooyeon scoffs, "I bet you would like that though, watching us three beautiful and hot girls change, huh?" You can only stare at her and swallow, because she's right. "I...I... ah shut up", you stutter back at her while closing the door behind them. "Knew it, men are all the same, but I can't blame you, just look at us, heh." The other two just smile and nod, "Oppa is so lucky, having us three as his best friends." Yubin adds, "I bet he'd like to be more than just that." Jiyeon whispers, trying to hide her smile. "Excuse me?" You raise your eyebrow, "Did I hear that right? You really think like that about me?" You ask them, "Oh come on, we're just teasing you, and we might already be a little tipsy, hehe." You roll your eyes, but can't hide a smile. "You guys are impossible..."
You all sat down in the living room, bottles of soju and bowls of snacks on the coffee table. "Wow, look at these snac~ OH MY GOD, IS THAT MY FAVORITE MOCHI FLAVOR?" Jiyeon yelled all happily. "Uhhhhh Lemon Soju? My favorite!" Yubin smiled at you, then threw you a kiss. You blush a little and swallow, what's with this weird behavior from them? "Y..yea..yeah, got it just for you." You reply to her, she winks back at you. "Alright, should we start the games?" Yooyeon takes charge with a mischievous smile on her face, she's definitely up to something. You nod, taking out the deck of UNO before Yooyeon stops you, "Nuh uh, none of that, we're playing something different!" You look at her confused, "Yea, how about some Truth or Dare? Hehe..." Jiyeon suggests, you swallow, this is gonna end bad. "Uhhhhh yessss, that will be fun!" Yubin jumps and claps her hands. "Alriiiiight, whatever the princesses want." Yooyeon makes room on the table, placing an empty soju bottle you all collectively drank in the middle. Each of you sat on one end of the table, Yooyeon to your right, Yubin in front and Jiyeon to the left of you. "I'll start..." Yooyeon spins the bottle, of course it stops pointing at you, "...hah! So, Truth or Dare?" You swallow again, mouth dry. "t...tru..truth." You stutter again, for some reason your nerves are at an all time high right now. "You're cute when you're nervous... anyway, Truth! Did you ever peep on one of us?" Your eyes get wide, "I...I did...once." You admit, trying to hide your face in shame. "Oppa..." Jiyeon sighs. "Knew it, so I wasn't so wrong calling you a perv earlier, huh?" Yooyeon smiles, not sure if she's happy or mad. You take another shot, trying to drown the shame. When you looked in front of you, you saw Yubin stare at you with a blank expression, then looked down again. Her hand reached over the table, laying on yours, "It's okay, we're not mad, in fact this makes things easier." You raise an eyebrow, "Easier? What does that mean..." You ask yourself while she smiles at you.
"Your turn to spin, perv." Yooyeon hands you the bottle with a devious smile. You spin the bottle, watching it go round until it stops on Jiyeon. You both lock eyes, you swallow again, "tru...truth or dare?" Jiyeon thinks for a second, "Mhmm... Dare me!" She says with an enthusiastic smile. "I dare you to....mhmm...kiss Yubin!" Her gaze snaps to Yubin, both smile at each other. "Oh what an easy dare, we do this all the time!" She leans towards Yubin, "Come here, baby." Yubin teases, her words make something in you stir. Then, you see their lips crash onto each other, hands cupping jaws. What was supposed to be a simple kiss, turned into a make-out session. Yubin laughs, slightly parting away just for you to see their tongues dancing with one another. "Oh my..." Yooyeon chimes in from the side, watching them closely. You can't look away, their make-out activated something in between your legs. "a..alr...alright ladies, enough!" You chime in. Jiyeon breaks off first, giggling with Yubin while wiping some saliva off her lower lip, "ooops, got carried away, hehe." She sat back at her place, "That was hot..." Yooyeon sighs, rubbing her thighs together. "Yea..." You murmur, pants incredibly tight now. "Close your mouth, you're basically drooling." Yubin laughs. You snap back to reality and shake your head, "sorry... that was a lot to witness." They chuckle, "Oh don't you worry, that was just the beginning." Jiyeon winks at you, then spins the bottle. It spins and stops pointing to Yooyeon, her smile instantly gets devious. "Unnieeee, Truth or Dare?" Yooyeon thinks shortly, "Dare me, but make it spicy!" They smile at each other, "Ok ok, I dare you tooooo... flash your tits!" Your eyes shoot open, this is escalating quickly and you should stop this, but you don't. "That's it?" Yooyeon says almost sounding disappointed, "Alright, I'll gladly will." Her gaze shifted to you, her hands already on the hem on her cropped shirt. One smirk later and her shirt was pulled over her head, freeing her tits, of course she wasn't wearing a bra.
You can't stop staring, her tits aren't massive, but still nice and perky. "Like what you see, huh?" She teases you, pressing her boobs together and wiggles them at you. "What is happening... what's with the sudden lack of boundaries?" You think, confused, but also turned on. "Well, I'll leave this off, I'm sure that wasn't the last piece of clothing I'll remove tonight." Yooyeon says while spinning the bottle again, this time it stops at Yubin, making Yooyeon smirk and switching gazes from you to her. "Truth or Dare, My dear?" Yubin answers quickly, "Truuuth!" She slurs, the alcohol clearly getting to her. Yooyeon thinks for a moment, "mhmm... did you ever masturbate while thinking of any of us?" Yubin smirks, "Yes, yes I have, hehe." She answers, looking at you. Yooyeon catching the glances, "I see... Well, maybe those thoughts will come reality today." Yooyeon looks at her, clearly up to something. Yubin spun the bottle, keeping eye contact with you. The bottle stopped pointing towards you again, of fucking course it did... "Oh boy, this is gonna be interesting!" Jiyeon says all excited. "Heh... Truth or Dare, oppa?" She asks, your throat was dry and no straight thoughts. Something in you said to do truth again, but before you knew it, you said; "Dare!" Yooyeon and Jiyeon gasp, then smile and look at Yubin. "Mhmm... I dare you toooo... kiss me! The same way Jiyeon unnie did." You choke at nothing, frozen in place. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Yooyeon pushes from the side, "what have I gotten myself into..." you murmur while standing up. Jiyeon gasps when seeing the bulge in your pants, "uhhhh what do I see there, someone's excited." You try to hide your erection, without success. Yooyeon laughs while Yubin bites her lip, eagerly waiting for you.
Finally you reach her, kneeling down beside her. Her lips already puckered, pointing at them with her fingers. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, leaning forward. Then suddenly Jiyeon pushes you from behind, making you fall onto Yubin when your lips meet. "ooops, my bad." She giggles while Yubin falls on her back. You catch your fall with your hands besides her face, looking into her eyes. They're beautiful, slightly glossy and filled with lust. You stare into her soul a little longer before leaning down again, initiating a proper kiss. "Finally..." she murmurs right before your lips meet, her arms locking around your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. At first it was awkward, just lips on lips, then something overcame you. One hand reaching for her waist, tongue sliding into her mouth, dancing with hers. "Oh wow, he's really going for it." Jiyeon says surprised, but definitely enjoying the show. You make out with her for a couple more minutes, letting out years of pent up tension. When breaking off, you stare into her eyes once more, smiling. "Yubin...I..." you whisper, but before you can finish, Yooyeon pulls you up, "Alright Casanova, you can propose later, your turn to spin." You move back to your spot, catching your thoughts. Yubin sits back up, adjusting her hair, smiling from ear to ear. You spin the bottle, watching it spin, still thinking about Yubin’s lips. The bottle stops at Jiyeon, her eyes wander to you. "Well, Truth or Dare?" Jiyeon smiles, "Dare!" she says almost immediately. "Well, since you're a ballerina, I want you to stand on one leg while the other is locked behind your head, BUT you have to be bare down there!" Her eyes get wide, "So specific, lucky for you, I'm horny as hell!" She stood up, everyone watching her.
"This guy... all he wants is to see us naked, tsk tsk tsk..." Yooyeon shakes her head while smiling, her nipples visibly hard. Meanwhile Jiyeon turned around, lifting her skirt and hooking her fingers in the hem of her panties. She looked over her shoulders, "Take a good look, enjoy the show!" Then slowly she bends forward, pulling her panties down her toned legs. Everyone is watching her closely, the way the lacy fabric goes down was mesmerizing. The lower she bent, the more of her ass peeked out. Firm round cheeks, but your attention quickly goes to her pussy right below, pink, puffy and visibly wet. "Fuck..." you mumble, pants incredibly tight. "Unnie... wow." Yubin admires, her own hand wandering between her legs. They pooled at her ankles when she walked out of her panties, picking them up and throwing them at you with a smirk and a wink. Then Jiyeon began lifting her leg, slow and gracefully. Her skirt riding up the higher her leg went, exposing her bottom fully. When her leg was finally behind her head, she spun on her heel to face everyone. "Look at that... so delicious." Yooyeon compliments, her hand also buried between her legs while the other was busy pinching and pulling her nipple. Jiyeon smiles, her lips slightly parted from stretching. You're speechless, hand instinctively going down, grabbing hold of your erection through the fabric of your jeans, while holding her wet panties in the other. She looked at you, "You reallyyyy like that, don't you? Then watch this!" Her free hand went down towards her entrance, fingers sliding between her puffy lips. A slight moan escapes her, "Mhmmm, fuck yes..." as she parts her lips further, exposing her pink insides. You choke on your own saliva, even more so when she inserted those two fingers into herself. "Oh my god..." Yubin gasps, her hand made its way underneath her own panties, rubbing her clit. "Yes... fuck, that's so hot!" Yooyeon adds, her hand long buried in her panties.
Jiyeon’s fingers pump in and out of her pussy, her juices running down her inner thigh. "Oh fuck... alright, enough for now, don't wanna finish this early, hehe." She says, pulling out her fingers from her drenched cunt, cleaning them off by sucking them clean. Her leg went back down and she sat at her spot, not bothering putting her panties back on. The bottle was spinning again, it stopped at Yubin again, they shared a devious smile with each other, "Ok Yubam, Truth or Dare?" Her answer came quick, "Dare! No more boring truths." Jiyeon smiled and looked at you, keeping eye contact, "I dare you to.... suck his cock!" Your eyes shot open, choking on air. "E...Excuse me?" You say shocked, meanwhile Yubin is already crawling over to you with a bright smile. "You heard me, don't act like you don't want it." Jiyeon responds to you, "Let the fun begin!" Yooyeon cheers, her hand still rubbing her clit. Yubin now sat beside you, tying her hair into a ponytail. Damn did she look hot doing that... "Just sit still, I'll do the work." Yubin whispers into your ear, her hands already working on your belt. Yooyeon and Jiyeon watch eagerly, playing with themselves. You swallow hard as she undoes your belt, your cock feeling less pressure. You sit up slightly for her, so she can slide your jeans down. Now only the straining fabric of your boxers between her and you. Yubin's hand reaches out, hooking her fingers into the waistband and pulling them down, just enough for your cock to spring free. They gasp, "Oh my god, you're so big, how dare you hide this from us for so long." You can't say anything, the situation completely overwhelms you. "Absolutely criminal... we could've had so much with that." Yooyeon stares at your length. "Well, I guess we'll have to make up for all the times we could've had fun with him." Jiyeon replies.
Meanwhile your eyes are locked with Yubin’s, her hand reaching for the standing length. Her touch soft and delicate, wrapping around your girth at the base, pumping slowly. You groan and buck your hips, "Yubin..." you whisper. "It's okay, relax, you trust me, right?" You nod, then she leans in for a deep and passionate kiss, her hand continuing to stroke you slowly. Yooyeon and Jiyeon look at each other, smiling contently. A minute goes by until she breaks the kiss, smiling, then lowering her head towards your cock. "Finally, the real deal." Yooyeon rubs her clit faster. Yubin now mere inches away from your length, "What are you waiting for? Suck him already." Jiyeon getting impatient. "Shut up, you're just jealous." And with that, she gave your pre-cum leaking tip a kiss, coating her lips in the sticky substance. You groan by the soft touch of her lips, then moan when her lips wrapped around the head. "Fuck... Yubam." You mumble, one hand reaching for her head, not pushing, just holding. Her tongue swirled around the tip, through the slit and then went flat. Then she took more of you into her warm and wet mouth, hollowing her cheeks as she sucked. Slowly her head went lower and lower, until she reached the base. "Holy shit, she swallowed him completely, didn't know you had that in you Yubami." Yooyeon proudly says. Yubin's head began to move faster, saliva pooling at the base. Wet sucking and slurping noises filled the room, "I can't believe what I'm seeing... she's way too good at that." Jiyeon was clearly shocked by Yubin’s skills. Meanwhile you're on cloud nine, eyes closed, head falling back and moaning. Yubin sucked you vigorously, your climax was approaching slowly. "Yubam... I...I'm close." You groan. She smiled and moaned on your cock, adding more stimulation. She brought you closer and closer to the end, but before you could finish, she broke off with a wet pop. Strings of saliva and pre-cum hanging between her glistening lips and your throbbing tip. "Not yet baby, we have more in store for you." She smirks and whispers into your ear, then wipes her chin with the back of her hand. As she went back to her place, she took off her shirt and pants, only leaving her bra and soaked panties on.
Yubin’s turn to spin the bottle again, her lips still glistening with spit and pre-cum. The bottle stops pointing towards Yooyeon, "Unnieeee, Truth or Dare?" She asks. "Dare, of course." smirking deviously, "Okayyy, I dare you tooooo... eat out Jiyeon unnie!" Yooyeon’s gaze snaps to Jiyeon, locking eyes with her. "Your meal is fresh and ready!" She leans back, spreading her legs wide. Yooyeon licks her lips, then makes her way over. You noticed the lack of panties when she stood up, they were long discarded, hanging over the arm rest. Yooyeon got on all fours in front of Jiyeon’s waiting pussy, her own ass pointing towards you. Those plump cheeks are a nice scenery to take in, but then you spot something peeking out between her cheeks. "What the... is that? Nah, no way..." Meanwhile Yooyeon’s mouth was about to devour Jiyeon, "You better make me cum, no edging!" Yooyeon smiles, "Sure thing, but I can't promise I'll stop at one." Jiyeon gasps, then smiles as Yooyeon closes the gap. "I'm gonna enjoy this show! Oppa, did you see Yooyeon unnie's pretty accessory? Hehe." Her question makes you gaze at her, "I...I did...is that...a...plug?" Yubin nods, "It is! Actually we all have... some sort of accessory, right Jiyeon unnie?" Her confession makes you choke on your spit. "That's right... fuck... we all have something up our butts, you'll see what I have later." Her words make your dick twitch, the sloppy noises from Yooyeon’s oral ministration and Jiyeon’s moans didn't help either. "Mhmm... fuck, you taste so good Jiyeon!" Yooyeon smacks her lips, then wiggles her butt, "Hey perv, you like staring at my plugged ass and wet pussy, don't you? Bet you'd love to taste me!" She smirked, then went back to eating out Jiyeon. You didn't reply, she knew she was right, you were already stroking yourself while thinking about how she'd taste. "Fuck... these gotta go... Oppa, catch!" Yubin called, throwing her soaked panties. You catch the wet fabric, holding them up and inspecting them. The wet spots are unmistakable, you can't resist taking a deep sniff. "Unnie was right, you are a perv, my perv." You smile back, high on her scent.
Yooyeon was working her mouth, tongue exploring the depth of Jiyeon’s cavern. "Fuuuuck..." she moaned as Yooyeon plunged two fingers inside her. Jiyeon’s pussy was dripping sweet juices, coating Yooyeon’s lips, chin and now also her fingers. She pumped them in and out, curling them upwards to hit that spot, while sucking and flicking Jiyeon’s clit. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck... don't stop, I'm so close!" Yooyeon smiled, doubling her efforts and fasten her movements. "Cum for me, cum inside my mouth!" She mumbled, her own hand reaching back and touching herself. "YES! YES! YES! I'M CUMMING, FUUUUUCK!" Jiyeon screamed, her voice breaking. Her pussy clamping down on Yooyeon’s fingers, legs shaking, flooding her mouth with sweet juices. Yooyeon finger fucked her through it, swallowing her nectar greedily. "Holy shit..." Yubin gasps, stopping her own hand to watch closer. Yooyeon makes no sign of slowing down, pumping her fingers and sucking up all the fluids. "Fuuuuuck unnie.... swallow... all my... cum... don't you... dare... to stop!" She struggles to get out between moans, her whole body shaking. While watching, you instinctively started stroking yourself, slow and steady. Yooyeon was devouring her like it's her last meal, keeping her on a steady high. Soon after the first, a second orgasm hit Jiyeon like a train. "AHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUCK! I'M CUMMING AGAIN!" She screams, her voice hoarse. Yooyeon can't help but smile, then swallows the second flood of clear juices. Once Jiyeon slumped back, breathing heavy and still shaking, Yooyeon broke off, lips wet and glistening with Jiyeon’s sweet cum all over them. "Mhmm... I forgot how much you cum, so yummy." Yooyeon licked her lips, then kissed Jiyeon, letting her taste herself. She moaned into the kiss, Yooyeon’s fingers still inside her, moving slowly, thumb drawing circles on her swollen clit. "Fuck unnie... you really... know how to... make us feel... good." Jiyeon whispers between kisses, smiling.
Then Yubin chimes in, "Are we done playing games? I'm way to horny after that..." Yooyeon breaks off from Jiyeon’s lips, fingers slowly pulling out of her sensitive cunt, a sticky strings of her cum still connecting them. Yooyeon turned around, sitting on her heels, "One last game..." before finishing her sentence, she brought her slik covered finger to her mouth, sucking them clean, then releasing them with a wet pop, "...for him!" Her gaze at you piercing, filled with unadulterated lust. You point at herself, "F...For...me?" you ask, she nods, smiling mischievously. "Yes, perv, it's simple. Just answer me, who'd you rather Marry, Fuck and Kill out of us three?" You choke on nothing, all three looking at you now, their gazes like knives. "I... I.... uhhhh..." you stutter, Yooyeon clicks her tongue, "Oh come on...can't be that difficult. Like, it's clear you gonna marry Yubam, you two had a mutual crush on each other for years... but, who is getting fucked, and who's getting killed?" Your head is running a marathon, "I... I'd rather fuck all of you!" They laugh, "Honey, that's not how this game works, although, that's what gonna happen today anyway, hehe." Your dick twitches at the thought of fucking all three of them, but you really don't wanna upset one by *killing* them. Yubin looks at you, locking eyes with her, bringing a smile to your face. "Ok ok ok..." you stammer, "...I fuck... Jiyeon...." Yooyeon’s smile faded, "I see how it is..." her tone almost sad, "...you better hold true to your word, fuck me...US senseless!" Your eyes widen, nodding. "I'm first!" Yubin yells, before you could say anything, she was getting out of her seat and walking over, her pussy wet and puffy. "Alright, alright Yubami, after all you're his wife now." Jiyeon jokingly says, smiling and winking at you. Meanwhile Yubin straddled your lap, pressing your erection against your stomach. Her arms wrap around your neck, smiling before leaning in and catching your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. Your hands begin to wander over her back, then resting at her waist. Her hips start grinding against your length, pressing it harder against your stomach, smearing pre-cum where the tip hits. You groan into her mouth, "Yubin..." your desperate tone makes her smile.
Your wander lower, grabbing hold of her ass cheeks. Yubin giggles when feeling your touch, "Mhmm... yes baby, touch me more." She whispers into your ear. You kiss along her jaw, then nibble at her neck. She tilts her head, giving you more room to leave marks. Then lower, over her shoulder and collarbones, resting at the swell of her breasts. "Let me get rid of this for you." She reaches back, unclasping her bra, the only piece of clothing she had on. The fabric gets loose, she pushes the halters over her shoulders, freeing her juicy and firm tits. "Yubin... you're so... perfect and beautiful!" You whisper, then lean forward and take her right nipple into your mouth, sucking gently, circling your tongue. She moans and arches into you, grinding harder against your throbbing cock. You switch to her other nipple, biting the hard nub gently, stealing a small yelp from her. Meanwhile Yooyeon and Jiyeon have moved beside You and Yubin, watching closely. You break off from her perfect sized tits, staring into her lustful eyes, she smiles at you, then pushes you onto your back. "Lay down, baby..." your hands going back to her waist, holding her tightly. Her pussy lips parted around your shaft as she grinded, leaving her arousal all over it. "Stop teasing, fuck him already!" Yooyeon sighed from the side, then grabbed your right hand, moving it towards herself. You look over at her, she got that mischievous grin on her face again. "You know you can touch me too, right?" She whispers, then lays your hand on her right breast. It was warm and soft, nipple hard. You squeezed lightly, making her moan. Then pinching her nipple, slightly pulling and twisting. Her hand reaching back to yours, leading yours lower, over her toned stomach, letting you feel every ridge of her abs before going even lower. Your hand now right above her love tunnel, waiting for your next move. "Touch, I don't bite... unless you want me to." You smile at her, then slide one finger through her drenched folds, making her moan and bite her lip, "Yesssss, just like that." Your finger quickly coated in a sheen of her slick, ready to enter. Thumb circling over her clit, making her back arch.
While Yubin was still teasing you by grinding her folds over your length and Yooyeon taking control of your right hand, Jiyeon knelt behind your head, looking down. You meet her gaze, before you can say anything, she scoots forward and straddles over your face. Your eyes widen by the sight of her wet pussy and puckered butthole right above you. "I bet you're hungry, right? Feast on me!" Then her hips lower, your tongue darts out, ready to taste her. Her lips make contact with your waiting tongue, so wet and warm, tasting tangy and a bit salty. You free hand moved to her butt, taking a handful of the soft flesh. Then moving inwards, to her rear entrance. "Mhmm fuck yes! Play with my butthole." Her back arching, sticking out her ass more. While your tongue explores the wet cavern of her pussy, your finger circled over her puckered hole, lightly applying pressure. Her hips start rocking on your face, chasing her high. Yubin was watching how you ate up Jiyeon, smiling proudly. "Look at you, Jiyeon unnie on your face, Yooyeon unnie occupied with your hand, and me grinding on this dick, you're so lucky!" Her words make your erection twitch under her grinding, arching upwards, trying to finally penetrate. "Looks like he wants inside, Yubam. Give him what he wants!" Yubin nods, sliding up to the tip, then grabbing hold around your length, aligning it with her dripping cunt. You feel how she drags your pre-cum smeared tip through her wet folds, thrusting up to accelerate the process. "Tsk tsk tsk... he wants me so bad!" You moan into Jiyeon’s pussy when you feel your tip breach past Yubin’s swollen lips, her walls stretch and envelope your length inch by inch. Yubin's eyes roll back in her head, her mouth the shape of an 'O'. "He's so big... can't wait to have that inside me later." Jiyeon watches, her own pussy fluttering around your tongue.
Yubin finally bottoms out, your whole length inside her, nudging against her deepest spots. "Fuuuuuuck, so full and stretched!" She says out of breath, slowly rolling her hips. Meanwhile, your finger that's been busy with Yooyeon’s pussy, has invaded, scratching her inside walls. Her juices dripping down your hand, pooling on the floor. You add a second finger, then a third, curling them upwards, hitting that spongy spot inside. "Yesss, work those fingers, make me cum all over that hand!" Her eyes roll back, moans escaping her mouth as her climax builds. At the same time Jiyeon’s pussy was drooling all over your face, her juices pooling in the dip of your neck. Your left hands fingers still drawing circles over her butthole, then slowly breaching past the ring of muscle. "Fuuuck... finger my asshole, baby, I'm so close!" Your finger pumps in and out of her ass, while your tongue laps up her juices, bringing her closer and closer to orgasm. Yubin was now bouncing up and down, high enough for your cock to almost slip out. The living room became a symphony of lewd sound, constant moaning, loud slurping from your busy mouth, wet squelches from your fingers inside Yooyeon’s pussy and the wet claps from Yubin’s skin hitting yours. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." Jiyeon cursed, her hips rocking faster, grinding against your face, chasing release. You added a second finger into her asshole, scissoring them. Suddenly feeling something hard press against them, then start moving whatever it was inside her, finally pushing her over the edge. "FUUUUUUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Her body goes rigid for a second then starts shaking, her thighs clamping down on your head, her pussy gushing her sweet juices down your throat. You try to swallow, but it's too much, the excess running down the sides of your face. She slumps forward, off your face, drenched in her cum.
"Fuck... that was incredible!" She half laughs, out of breath. Reaching back to your wrist, fingers still inside her asshole. She pulls them out, her hole gapes open for a second, then closes again. She leads your hand towards Yubin, "Yubam, wanna taste my ass?" They both laugh, then Yubin opens her mouth, taking your digits in, sucking them clean and tasting Jiyeon’s rectum on your fingers. "Speaking of tasting your ass..." you say, before plunging into her winking hole right in front of you. Jiyeon gasps by the sudden attack, then moans when feeling your tongue breach inside her. "Fuck me... he's really hungry." Yooyeon jokes, while still having your fingers inside her. Jiyeon looks back over her shoulder, "Mhmm... yes, eat my ass!" Then turns back towards Yubin, still bouncing up and down, leaving a creamy ring of her discharge around the base of your cock. "Can't wait to clean that bad boy off..." Jiyeon licks her lips, staring at the creamy mess, then back at Yubin, kissing her deeply. Yooyeon had enough of just your fingers, she needs more. "Fuck... Put your fingers in a triangle please!" You glance over while eating Jiyeon’s ass, obliging to her demand, making a triangular form with your hand. Yooyeon smiles, "Good boy!" She praises, then angles your fingertips at her entrance, slowly lowering herself. You fingers enter her, knuckle by knuckle they disappear into her cunt, until only the base of your fingers is visible. "Mhmm... so much better..." she moans, then puts more weight into it. You're slowly getting sucked into her aching pussy, then with a wet suction noise, it slips in to the wrist. "FUCKKKKK!" She yelled, with a stream of clear fluid spraying out her stretched cunt. The feeling of her wet and warm insides was weird, in a good way, like a glove she enveloped your fist. Yubin glanced over too, "Holy... shit... unnie..." she murmured between moans, her own release coming closer by the second. Your attention shifted from Jiyeon’s delicious asshole, to Yooyeon’s pussy completely. Twisting your wrist inside her, making her knees buckle. Moving your fist back out, then pushing back in, her whole body shook, more squirts leaking out of her.
"Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" She cursed, resting on her elbows, barely able to hold herself up. The puddle of squirt grew larger the more you fisted her cunt. While your attention shifted, Jiyeon whined about the loss of hers, "Don't forget about me!" She pushed her ass back into your face, reaching back and spreading her cheeks apart, asshole opening up slightly. Your head turned back to Jiyeon’s forbidden hole, staring right into the black abyss. You're overwhelmed, too many things to concentrate on, fist fucking Yooyeon’s pussy, eating out Jiyeon’s ass and meeting Yubin’s bounces with thrusts upwards. Luckily Yubin was extremely close to climax, "Fuck, baby... your dick is gonna make me cum soon!" But before her, Yooyeon screamed from the side, "OH FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! I'M CUMMING FUCK!" her whole body shook like she was getting electrocuted, pussy spasming around your fist, clear fluid spraying in an arch right towards you, covering your arm and even some of it landing on your face. The pressure eventually pushes your fist out of her, leaving her cunt gaping and dripping. Now completely laying on her back, chest heaving, legs still twitching. "Unnie, are you okay?" Jiyeon asks, Yooyeon lifts her arm and gives a shaky thumbs up. Jiyeon and Yubin laugh, then Yubin continues riding and Jiyeon moans, as your tongue plunges back into her asshole. Your dripping and slick covered fist moved back, Jiyeon stopped it by your wrist, "Let me clean that for you." Finger by finger she sucked them clean, tasting Yooyeon’s cum. Once she was done, both your hands moved to Jiyeon’s ass, spreading her open more, kneading the soft flesh. While savoring the taste of her asshole, Yubin was on the brink. "Baby... I'm... about to... cum... fuckkk..." your hips moved on their own, thrusting up harder, slamming into her as she fell. Your shaft coated in her cream, juices pooling wherever they could. You could feel her pussy getting tighter, her walls squeezing you, chasing release. Then with an ear piercing shriek, she came, "AHHHHHHHHHG FUCK!" Her pussy explodes in a creamy wet flood, covering your crotch and abdomen completely. Her legs gave in, sitting down, impaled by your length. She held onto Jiyeon’s shoulders for support, her breathing came in ragged.
Yubin sat on your shaft for a moment, recollecting herself, then slowly slid off. She fell back and sat on the floor between your legs, pussy leaking juices, forming a trail on the floor. Your cock covered in a creamy white sheen of her cum, swinging back and forth slightly. Jiyeon licks her lips, "Mhmm, look at that delicious cock, all creamy and wet." She leaned forward, tongue first, swirling at the tip. Her mouth wandered down along your length, her lips turning white from Yubin’s girlcum. While her tongue cleans your dick, your own tongue is buried deep in her asshole. "How do I taste, unnie?" Yubin watches, Jiyeon breaks off your cock, smacking her lips, "So delicious, baby!" Her eyes locked with Yubin’s, going back for seconds, taking your throbbing length in completely. You groan into the depths of her asshole, spreading her cheeks further apart. Her walls clench down on your tongue, wanting more, something bigger. She popped off your cock, strings of saliva hanging from her lips down to your tip. She looked back over her shoulder, smiling when seeing how eager you were to devour her, "Mhmm... Baby, I think my ass needs more!" On the side, Yooyeon recovered, watching, rubbing her swollen clit. Yubin noticed, smirking, crawling over. "Unnie, you're so messy down here, let me clean you up!" She leaned down, her ass up, pointing right towards you. Yooyeon’s still gaping and pulsing pussy looked extra delicious. Yubin's tongue darted out, taking a slow lick along her labia. Yooyeon jolted, still sensitive from the intense fisting. "AH FUCK! slow, please... sensitive..." Yubin stops, smiling, "Don't worry, I'll be careful." Her tongue made contact again, slow and delicate she licked. Yooyeon whimpered, her fingers intertwined in Yubin’s hair. Her mouth closed around the sensitive and engorged nub, flicking her tongue. Yooyeon’s back arch of the floor, whimpers turned into desperate moans. "Fuck.... Yubam, feels so good!" Yubin’s hand sneaked down under, remembering the shiny pink crystal plug peeking out underneath her gaping hole. She pulled on it, letting her ring of muscle stretch around the bulbous metal. Yooyeon moaned deeply, "Mhmmm... yessss!"
Jiyeon moved forward, sitting on your torso, her asshole slick with your spit and winking at you. "You remember we all dared each other to put something up our ass, right? Let me show you what I have stored." Her face changed, hands reaching back, spreading herself open. You gasp, her hole opening right in front of you. "Fuck..." you groan, dick twitching, chest increasingly getting wetter from her leaking cunt. Then, finally, you see something colorful appear, pushing aside her pink walls. "Mhmphhh, fuck..." she moaned, her pussy gushing her juices out like a faucet. Her anus stretched, turning almost white, then *PLOP*, the round object falls out. A blue toy ball, probably a dog toy. She laughs, her hole gaping open, inner walls moving along her breathing. "Got this for my dog originally, but I found a better use for it, hehe." You stare at her open hole, licking your lips, "Naughty girl, all of you..." Yooyeon raises her hand, shaking, flipping you off. Chuckling, you take the mucus covered ball in your hand, licking it, tasting the deepest depths of her rectum. Jiyeon turned around, her open hole right at your length. "Oh okay... but I'm the naughty one, huh?" You laugh, "Didn't say I wasn't!" Taking another lick over the ball. Jiyeon smirked, reaching back and wrapping her hand around you, lifting her hips. Your tip enters her gaping hole with ease, stretching it further. "Oh fuck... yesss baby, stretch me open!" You groan as your cock disappears into her asshole, "Fuck, Jiyeon..." the ball forgotten, only the warm walls of her guts on your mind. Your hands wander to her slim waist, digging into her soft flesh. Her hips start rolling, placing her own hand over yours, leading it up her body to her firm breasts. "I'm all yours, baby." She moans, rocking her hips faster. You squeeze her tits harder, pinching and pulling her nipple, stealing a yelp from her. She leans back, eyes rolling, mouth open. Her legs prop up and hips lift, pussy glistening, dripping onto your stomach. "Mhmm, your cock fills my ass so good..." your balls deep inside, she squeezes your shaft tight, "...gonna make me cum so fast!" Jiyeon’s hips go up and down, her tits bouncing, abs tensing up. "Fuck... you're so sexy."
Yubin has been playing with Yooyeon’s holes in the meantime, tongue deep inside that swollen pussy. Down below, she's twisting and pulling the plug, almost letting it slip out completely. "Stop teasing, just use my asshole!" Yubin laughed, "Alright, alright unnie, let me wreck that hole of yours." With a mischievous grin, she pulled the plug out; *PLOP* and it was in her hand, going straight into her mouth, tasting all of Yooyeon’s flavors. Her gaping hole oozed a mix of lube and her own fluids, forming a small puddle underneath. "Unnie, you used so much lube for this little plug... were you planning to use the excess for something else, hmmm?" Yubin raised an eyebrow, smirking, hand already probing the open hole. Yooyeon pushed a little, "Hmphhh!" Her hole lets out air and more lube in a squelching fart, making Yubin gasps, then laugh. "So dirty... I love it!" She scooped up the excess lube, smearing it all over her hand. Yooyeon looked down, watching Yubin lube up, "Oh god..." she whispered. "Unnie, relax! I'll be careful, my hands are small, hehe." Yubin formed her hand into a triangle, just like you did earlier, aligning it with her waiting hole. Jiyeon looked over, her own asshole still impaled by your cock, "Ruin Unnie's asshole, Yubam! Turn it inside out!" Her words made Yooyeon choke on her spit, "...oh shit... don't break me too much, Yubin-ah!" Yubin nods, then pushes her fingertips in, stretching the ring of muscle. Knuckle by knuckle her hand disappears into Yooyeon’s ass, her whimpers and whines loud. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK!" Finally with a wet *slurp*, Yubin’s hand gets sucked into Yooyeon’s rectum. "Look how greedy your hole is, swallowing my hand so easily." Yooyeon’s back arches of the floor, eyes vanished in the back of her head. Her still swollen pussy releasing a stream of warm golden liquid, the pressure of Yubin’s hand too much. Jiyeon halted her relentless anal riding for a second, "Oh my god... you made her piss herself! So fucking hot!" Your own eyes snap towards the spectacle as well, gasping when seeing the depravity. "Holy shit..." You say breathless, but oddly aroused, new kink unlocked?
Jiyeon returned riding you like a horse quickly, her asshole clenching down on your shaft, making you groan and shift your attention back to her. "You like that, huh? Seeing her like that, losing herself, letting go..." You can only nod, gripping her waist tighter. You hold her in place, your hips lifting off the floor, feet flat. With a hard thrust up, you slam into her guts, a loud clap of skin hitting skin echoes through the room. "Ahh fuck!" Jiyeon yelps, trying her best to hold her balance. You piston into her like a jackhammer, her mouth open, gasping for air. Her pussy leaking nectar down to your stomach, pooling in your belly button. Her climax was rushing in, hand reaching down, rubbing her clit frantically. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck!" She shrieked, body locking up, pussy clenching on nothing. You fuck her through it, no stopping. Gushes of squirt spray everywhere, your mouth open, trying to catch some. She collapsed forward, laying on your drenched chest. Out of breath, she murmers, "Fuck... that was amazing!" Your hips slowed, letting her recover. "You gave me a shower... so hot!" You whisper into her ear. Jiyeon raised her head, looking you deep into the eyes. "Oh, you like having my girl cum all over you, huh? Naughty boy..." She smiled, then went for a sloppy kiss, tongue invading your mouth instantly. You groan into her mouth, picking up speed with your thrusts. Her eyes shut, moaning on your lips. Jiyeon sat back up, hands on your chest for support. "Make me cum again, fuck my asshole, make it throb!" You slam into her with no remorse, the only goal is to ruin her. "Careful what you wish for!" Your hands gripping her cheeks, her soft flesh molding to your palms. Then, her second orgasm hits, but this time she slid off your cock, letting it bob back and forth. She sat down on your chest, her holes right before your eyes, open and leaking. You gasp by her surprising move, but open your mouth quickly to welcome the flood of liquid of her orgasm coming your way. "Drink up!" She said, and so you do, mouth wide open, closing the distance to not miss anything. Her asshole was a gaping mess, leaking it's own juices where she sat, making a mess. Suddenly she smiled wickedly, her insides walls so swollen, they moved outwards. She angled her hips, her open hole inches from your mouth, "Surprise!" And with a little push and wet squelching farts, the dark red and pulsing flesh emerged in a small rose. Your eyes widen in shock, "WHAT THE FUUUU..." your words cut short by the sudden stream of piss filling your mouth. You try to swallow, but couldn't, too much.
Yubin looked over her shoulder when hearing you choke, gasping in shock. "Oh my god..." her fist halting inside Yooyeon’s asshole for a second. "Oh hey, seems like your new boyfriend likes getting pissed on, right?" Your brain short circuits, still swallowing her urine, "Y...yea..." you stutter. Yubin laughs, "Good to know, hehe." A wicked smile on her face. Jiyeon’s pulsing rose of swollen flesh still hangs before you, she looks down at you, smiling. "Taste it, I know you want to." You hesitate for a moment, then lean forward, tongue out, touching softly. She jolts, fingers running through your hair. Your tongue digs into the soft tissue, her flavor exploding on your taste buds. "Mhmm... yes baby." She moans, your warm mouth on her sensitive flesh making her shiver. Your lips close around the pulsing mound, tongue swirling, then push it in. "Ah fuck..." a small spurt of squirt hitting you, her juices adding sweetness. You suck on the prolapsed flesh, cheeks hollowing. You break off with a wet pop, a mix of saliva and anal secretion connecting your lips to her inside-out rectum. "Fuck, Jiyeon..." she laughs, her swollen ass-meat pulsing. "Good boy!" Jiyeon praised you. "FUUUUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" Yooyeon screamed on top of her lungs. Yubin’s fist moved back and forth, stretching her insides. A small bulge on her stomach formed, right where Yubin’s fist was. Yooyeon looked down at the protrusion, gasping, "Oh my god... you're in my tummy!" Her hand lays over the bump, feeling Yubin's movements. Yubin looks up at her, a silent "Unnie..." escapes her lips. The intimacy of all this, like a special bonding experience. "This... feels weird... but... great... at the... same time..." She whinced, Yubin moving slowly, not wanting to hurt her. Yooyeon’s asshole squelched obscenely, small wet farts escaped around Yubin’s delicate arm. She giggled, "So dirty..." then pushed her arm deeper, making Yooyeon shriek. "AHHHH, too deep! Too deep!" Half of Yubin’s forearm inside now, another golden stream leaked out of the wrecked cunt above. Yubin can't resist, lunging forward, lips sealed right over her pisshole. Yooyeon squealed, "NGHHH!" while Yubin swallowed greedily, slowly pumping and twisting her fist. She breaks off, lips and chin drenched in urine, "Yummy! Always wanted to taste it." Yooyeon reached for her neck, pulling her in for a sloppy kiss, tasting her remnants on Yubin’s lips.
Jiyeon’s swollen flesh has retreated back inside her, hole still gaping, trickling juices. She climbs off from your chest, "Time for Yooyeon unnie to have some fun with this!" Giving your still rock solid cock a light slap, making it wobble. You hiss from the blunt touch, the sting oddly arousing. Jiyeon reaches you a hand, helping you up. Her own legs still wobbly, "You better make up for *killing* her, by fucking her senseless!" You nod obediently, "You bet I will!" Yubin was still working on Yooyeon’s asshole, her ring stretched taut around Yubin’s forearm. The puddle of squirt and piss underneath her ass was a sight to behold, absolute filth and you love every second of it! Jiyeon knelt beside the two, hand over the bulge caused by Yubin’s hand, "Alright unnie, your turn to get fucked silly!" Yooyeon already was lost in euphoria, Yubin was working her good. Yubin looked up at you, smiling wickedly, "Baby, ruin her ass for me, I want her to not be able to sit for days!" Her free hand reaches out, pulling you down on her level, lips crashing on yours. The faint taste of Yooyeon’s urine still lingers, mixed with Jiyeon’s and Yubin’s own taste. An explosion of flavors in your mouth, all unique to them. Yooyeon watched, eyes half lidded. "You're gonna regret killing me! Gonna finally drain that dick of yours, fill me up!" Your breath hitched, not sure if that was a threat. "Don't threaten me with a good time!" Your reply makes her grin, propping herself up on her elbows. Yubin slowly retreated her arm and fist from Yooyeon’s bowels, inch by inch more of her skin saw the light again. Completely covered in a sheen of Yooyeon’s natural anal lubricant, piss and other bodily fluids. Finally her fist popped free, a wet squelching sound followed by a small fart. "Naughty unnie..." Jiyeon's gaze flicked to Yubin’s glistening limb, licking her lips. Her tongue darts out, offering to clean off the remnants on Yubin’s arm. Yubin notices the hungry gaze and smirks, "Better be quick before I'll clean it myself!" Yubin’s own tongue takes a long drag along her forearm, tongue accumulating a thick layer of all kinds of juices, swallowing them all in one gulp. Jiyeon wastes no time and leans in, taking on Yubin’s small and delicate fingers. Starting with her thumb, tongue swirling around the digit, cleaning it of all it's residue. "Mhmmm..." she moans, then lets Yubin’s thumb pop out, smacking her lips. She goes finger by finger, occasionally their lips meet, sharing the delicious fluids.
You watched the two do their thing for a second, then Yooyeon cleared her throat, "Ahem... less watching, more fucking!" Her command snaps you right back to her, "My bad... they're... distracting." She scoffs and rolls her eyes, "pfft... first killing me and now also ignoring me..." Her legs were wide open, her asshole gaped and leaked, waiting to be stuffed again. "S...Sorry..." you apologize, "Stop with that bullshit, fuck me already, useless perv!" Her mean undertone flipped something in you. With a tight grip you grab her ankles, putting them together and lifting them high. Then press her legs down on her chest, her eyes wide through the small gap between her calves. "You wanna get fucked, huh? Well, let me ruin that shithole then!" Your cock already nudging at her opening, without much effort, you buried yourself to the base in her colon. Yooyeon’s eyes rolled back, with a faint moan and whisper, "finally..." you began slamming into her. Her ass left the floor the more you punded into her, putting more weight over her. "You like that, huh? Getting your ass pounded like that?" She moaned louder and nods, "Yes! I love it! Ruin my ass, fuuuuuuuck!" You can feel it, her climax was approaching, walls clamping down on your pistoning cock. "Oh? Gonna cum already?" unable to respond, you lift her ass up even more, driving deeper into her guts. Then with a scream, she broke, "FUCKKKKK!" Her legs spasmed, her pussy clenching on nothing. A hot gush of her juices squirted all over herself, drenched her skin in her own cum. You pound her through her orgasm, no slowing down. Her pussy gushed juices for what felt like a straight minute, legs shaking under your grip. "Look at you, all drenched in your cum..." She was a mess, a wet and whimpering mess. Your cock hammered her asshole hard, wet slaps of skin hitting skin accompanied the relentless pounding.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" She screamed, eyes rolled back, mouth wide open and her tongue out. Jiyeon and Yubin watched the show, playing with each other. Jiyeon’s fist slid into Yubin’s rear, "AH FUCK!!!" The ear piercing scream of Yubin from the side didn't bother you though. Your only mission was to ruin Yooyeon, turn her guts inside out. "You like fucking my asshole, perv? Making me not be able to sit for days after, huh?" You just scoff, "Still got an attitude, huh? Tsk tsk tsk... someone shut her up!" You looked over at Yubin, she caught your gaze, nodding. She stopped Jiyeon, her fist popping out Yubin’s asshole, leaving it wide open. She crawled behind Yooyeon’s head, kneeling there. You two lock eyes again, letting go of Yooyeon’s ankles, letting them fall on her shoulders. Yubin looked down, smiling, then straddling her face, "Open wide, unnie!" Yooyeon’s eyes shot open, two open holes right above her. Yubin lowered herself, sitting down on Yooyeon’s face. Her tongue already out, lapping at her folds, nose poking into the gaping rear. "Mhmm..." she moans into Yubin’s pussy, then moving back to her asshole. Yooyeon’s hands gripped onto Yubin’s waist, pulling her down on herself, "So hungry... fuck." You plowed into Yooyeon with no relent, "Finally, silence..." you sigh, then catch a slap from Yooyeon on your arm. "Ohhh, still feisty!" You return the slap by giving her ass cheeks a couple firm slaps, leaving red handprints. Each slap made her whimper, muffled by Yubin’s pussy and ass. Yooyeon’s second orgasm was approaching, you could feel it again. Picking up the pace, changing the angle, driving even deeper. Yubin grinded her hips, chasing her own release, "Unnie, you're... gonna make... me.... cum..." You watched the love of your life nearing climax, smiling at her. She smiled back and cupped your chin, leaning forward to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Your lips break off, her body goes rigid as her orgasm ripped through her. Yubin moans right onto your lips, holding your neck for support. Yooyeon’s mouth didn't slow, she was swallowing every drop of squirt she could, tongue scooping out what couldn't on their own.
Yubin was left panting through the aftershocks of her orgasm, falling back and sitting behind Yooyeon’s drenched face. Yooyeon out of breath, completely wet, her own climax close. "Thanks, unnie." Yubin leaned forward, kissing Yooyeon’s forehead, tasting herself. Yooyeon wanted more than a *Thanks*, so she pulled her in for a kiss, wet and sloppy. In the middle of their make-out, her orgasm hit. Her moans were swallowed by Yubin’s eager mouth, legs shaking around your head, walls clamping down. Another hot surge of juices shot out of her cunt, with a thirsty pull back, your cock slides out of her asshole. Diving in on her spraying pussy, capturing her juices, swallowing them greedily. Her asshole throbbed and leaked it's own kind of juices right below. Your tongue wandered lower, exploring the cavernous opening. "Do it, unnie." Yubin whispered, with a knowing smile Yooyeon nodded. She started pushing, hands on her cheeks, spreading them apart. "NGHHH!" She whinced, a stream of piss escaping her urethra. Your eyes snap open at the warm golden surprise, closing your mouth over the leaking hole. "Oh my god... such a naughty boy." Below, her swollen ass meat slowly made it's way out, a wet squelching fart bubbling out alongside it. Once her stream of urine stopped, you backed off, lips glistening with her piss. Sitting back and taking in the sight of her pulsing rose of flesh, "Beautiful..." you whisper.
Yooyeon looked down at you, eyes half lidded, mouth open and breathing heavy. "Fuck... you... kept your... promise..." her head falls back into Yubin's lap, eyes closed. Yubin looks at you, a devious smile on her face. She mouths "me next." and winks, then leans down to pepper Yooyeon’s face with kisses. Your attention shifts back to Yooyeon’s exposed inner flesh, still pulsing and throbbing. Slowly grazing a finger over the soft tissue before leaning in and taking a lick over the red bud. Yooyeon’s breath hitched, body jolts, clearly sensitive. Suddenly Jiyeon pushed you aside with surprising strength, "MY TURN!" You catch yourself with one hand, almost slipping on the wet floor. "What the fuck, Jiye..." you stop in the middle of saying her name. The sight of her naked body, the arch of her back, the curve of her ass and her sweat, squirt and piss covered skin taking your words away. Jiyeon giggles with a full mouth, shaking her ass seductively. "You... mhmm... already... mmmh... had mine... mhm... earlier..." her left hand reached back, spreading her cheeks apart, pushing slightly. Your gaze snaps back to her now gaping hole, a small rosebud emerging reminding you of earlier. "Fuck..." you groan, watching it disappear back into her. Not able to resist, you lunge right at her holes, tongue inside her leaking pussy in an instant. Jiyeon moans, muffled by Yooyeon’s prolapse in her mouth.
Yubin, eager for her turn, moved beside you, wrapping her delicate fingers around your cock, stroking slowly. You groan into Jiyeon’s wet depths, her grip tight. Yubin leans in, her lips grazing your ear, "My turn, baby. Ruin my cute little butthole, don't hold back." Her voice low and sexy, making your dick twitch in her grip. "Let me make her cum first, then I'm all yours." Yubin nodded, still stroking your aching cock. Diving back into Jiyeon’s holes, three fingers in her pussy, tongue inside her loose asshole. "Fuck.... don't stop!" She moans, her arousal running down your arm, dripping to the floor. The base of your fingers turning creamy white, wet squelches fill the room with each stroke of your fingers. Her asshole swallows your tongue greedily, the swollen tissue pressing against your invading tongue. Jiyeon’s breathing turned ragged, so close to exploding. Her whole body shaking, back arching and leaning back into you, chasing more friction. Your fingers pump and curl, scratching that spot that makes her eyes roll back. "YES! YES! YESSSSSS!" Jiyeon screamed, her pussy clenching down on your digits, squirting like a broken fire hydrant. Your tongue getting pushed out by her protruding flesh, wet farts slipping as the rose grows. Jiyeon collapses forward, laying on Yooyeon’s stomach. Her legs and hip still twitching and bucking, riding out the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her body shudders, then a stream of her delicious golden nectar trickles down her inner thighs. The fluid adding to the growing puddle beneath you all, "What a mess..." you murmur.
The last droplets of her release dribble out of her, letting out a long sigh. You give her right butt cheek a kiss, "Good girl." Then slapping the same spot. "NGHH!" Jiyeon yelps, back arching from the stinging pain. Yubin whispered into your ear, "Mhmm, look how well you make us cum, even making us piss ourselves..." her delicate hand pumps your shaft slowly, you groan and buck your hips, "...oh baby, how I'd wish we've crossed this line years ago... missed out on so much depravity, so many endless nights of just pure, unadulterated filthy sex..." her lips grazed your ear, her breath warm. Your turn to face her, capturing her soft lips in a searing kiss. Your tongues dancing in pure lust, all while her hand steadily pumps your rock hard cock. "Can't wait to do this again at your guys' marriage, but the wedding dress stays on! hehe." Yubin broke the kiss for a second, laughing at the thought. "I'll be standing there on the altar, all while my ass meat is hanging out under the dress, throbbing and pulsing." They both laugh, meanwhile you're shocked by her words. "Yubin... I'd love that! As absurd as it sounds, but that mental image... fuck..." Yubin smiled, cupping your face with her free hand. "Baby..." she whispers, engaging in another deep and sensual kiss. "Can I be the bridesmaid? I'll carry the rings in my ass, then push them out when you need them, Hah!" This time you break the kiss, and laugh hysterically. Yubin shakes her head, then smacks Jiyeon's ass. "Naughty slut..."
Your mouth has wandered to Yubin’s neck, kissing and nibbling on her skin. She moans softly when you suck on her pulse point, feeling her heartbeat rise. Her hand moved up and down your shaft in slow and tight movements, fingers coated in your pre-cum. Breaking off and leaving a red mark on her neck, you nibble at her earlobe next, whispering "Mhmm... Yubin, you're way too good at that." Into her ear. Yubin smiles, turning to face you, her eyes filled with lust. Her lips crash into yours again, all tongue and teeth. You push her onto her back, hands roaming over her sweat slicked body. "Fuck me... breed me, please." Her broken plea sent more blood into your cock. You catch her nipple in your mouth, sucking and flicking the hard nub. Yubin moans loudly, her fingers tangled in your hair. Your kiss your way lower, over her toned abs, then halt before her aching pussy. "So perfect... fuck." you whisper against her dripping folds, then take a long and slow drag of your tongue through her lips. "Oh fuck... Just like that, baby." Her grip on your hair gets stronger, keeping you in place. Your tongue digs into her wet core, her puffy lips parting open. A fresh gush of her arousal fills your mouth, sweet and salty. Her hips buck upwards, grinding on your face, chasing release. While one hand gropes her tits, your other sneaks in the cleft of her ass, probing at her puckered muscle. "Mhmm, yes... use both my holes, make me cum so hard!" One finger breaches past the tight ring, just as warm and wet as her pussy. You probe her inside walls, then add another finger, scissoring them and stretching her further. Yubin moans, "Don't stop... just a little more..." her voice broken, desperate. A third finger enters her anus, quiet airy noises squeezing past the gaps of her rim and your fingers with each movement.
Yooyeon and Jiyeon left you two alone, on wobbly feet they went to the bathroom. The shower turned on, water splashing on the tile floor as Jiyeon stepped in first. Rivulets running down her athletic body, washing off the filth. Yooyeon followed shortly after, visibly more exhausted. "Let me help you, unnie." Jiyeon grabbed the soft scrubber and soaked it in bodywash. Yooyeon sighed as the soft fabric scrubbed over her back, cleaning off the remnants of the filthy acts. Jiyeon carefully scrubbed over Yooyeon’s ass, her abused butthole still slightly agape, "C...Care...Careful..." she whispered. Jiyeon looked her into the eyes, nodding, slowly tracing the sensitive rim. Yooyeon whimpered, legs trembling. "Look at this ruined hole... still open." Jiyeon finished up cleaning her butt, giving her cheek a kiss. Yooyeon giggled, then turned around, looking down at Jiyeon, "M..Maybe... one more... round... heh." Jiyeon looked up at her, a wicked smile on her face, "So horny... but so am I..." Jiyeon leans in, her tongue dragging through Yooyeon’s swollen folds, "...this pussy is too delicious, fuck." Yooyeon moans faintly, her hand going down, laying on Jiyeon’s head. Fingers intertwined in her Jiyeon’s hair, holding her in place. "Fuck, Jiyeon... this feels so good." Yooyeon’s free hand made itself busy, groping her own tits, twisting and pulling on her hard nipples. Jiyeon’s tongue explored the wet cavern thoroughly, switching from penetrating her folds to sucking and flicking her clit. Jiyeon knew she was close, adding one, then two fingers into her dripping core. A loud moan echoed from the tile walls, "Don't stop... don't you dare... stop..." Jiyeon didn't, she curled her fingers up, scratching that spot that makes Yooyeon’s eyes roll back. "FUCK! FUCK! FUUUUUUCK! I'M CUMMING!" Yooyeon’s body went rigid, her walls clamping down on Jiyeon’s digits. A fresh gush of her girlcum sprayed directly into Jiyeon’s hungry mouth, she swallowed it greedily.
Back to the living room, where the sound of the shower running and the faint moans are just noises in the background. Your fingers still buried deep in Yubin’s rear, tongue digging through her delicious folds. "Oh baby..." Yubin’s grip in your hair gets tighter, her climax was nearing, "...I'm so close...don't stop!" Her back arched off the floor, mouth open and eyes closed. Your tongue and fingers worked overtime, flicking, sucking and pumping with increased intensity. Yubin's legs wrap around your head tight, her pussy and anus clenching down. With a high pitched scream, she came undone, "FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!" Her juices flooded your eager mouth like a dam that broke, you tried your best to swallow it all. Once her climax subsided and she laid flat again, you withdrew your fingers. A clear coat of her natural lubricant on your digits, without hesitation you took them into your mouth, tasting her once again. "Mhmmm... so delicious. I might be getting addicted to your flavors, babe." Yubin laughs, "Hah, you can taste me anytime, anywhere baby. But now, let us empty those balls of yours, yea?" Her foot taps against your raging boner, making it sway. You look down at your erection, then back at her with a wicked smile. Her other foot joins in, smearing the bead of pre-cum around your head with her her toe, then wrapping your length between her soles. You groan, "Always wanted to try this..." her feet move up and down your shaft. Her soles were soft, nails painted black, toes curled slightly. The way she looks at your cock slides between her feet, eyes half lidded, faint smirk on her lips. "Fuck... Yubin..." you moan, lost in her beauty.
Yooyeon & Jiyeon were finally done showering, drying themselves off and put their clothes back on. "Thank you, Jiyeon... for helping me clean up and..." Jiyeon chuckles, the taste of Yooyeon’s mind shattering orgasm still on her tongue. "Always! You probably would still be under the shower if I didn't help you... you were so exhausted." Yooyeon’s gaze lingers, then snaps away to look at herself in the mirror. While padding dry her hair, she looks down her body, "Yea... I was... I did want him to fuck me senseless, and he did!" Jiyeon looks at her back, down to her ass where her butthole still gaped open slightly. "He sure did, your hole is still open haha." Yooyeon turns her hips, trying to see the aftermath herself. One hand going down, spreading her cheek away to give her a better view. "I'm gonne be sore for days... worth it though!" Jiyeon laughs, giving Yooyeon’s a slap, "It was, every second of it, but now it's time to head out, it's late." Yooyeon nods, grabbing her clothes and slowly getting dressed. As they're done, Jiyeon unlocks the bathroom door. Thick fog slips through the gaps and enters the hallway. Before they leave, Jiyeon turns, "Shhh... try be quiet, let them have fun alone." Jiyeon whispered. Yooyeon nods, on tippy toes they sneak through the hallway. Once they reach the living room, they silently gasp at the sight of Yubin foot job skills. "Oh my god..." Yooyeon whispered through her fingers. Their steps silent on the wooden floor as they go past You & Yubin. Too lost in pleasure of her soles working your aching cock, and Yubin too concentrated keeping her feet steady, they go unnoticed. At the main door they stop for a second, "Fuck... that was hot." Yooyeon nods, "Yeaaaa... didn't know Yubin was into that." They left a goodbye message in the group chat:
>Ballerina: We'll head out now, see you tomorrow! Can't wait to do this again hehe.
>Ice Princess: Byeeee you two lovebirds!
Yours and Yubin’s phones vibrate on the coffee table, long forgotten. The only thing on your mind is her, Gong Yubin. "Mhmm, this is incredible." You groan, her feet clamping down on your shaft. "Yea? Do my soft feet feel good on your cock?" Her hand reaches out, cupping your jaw. She tilts her head and leans in, her plump lips crashing onto yours in a passionate kiss. Her feet stop for a moment, getting lost in embrace. You break the kiss, foreheads pressed together, "Should we take this to my bed? Be a lot more comfortable than this floor." The smirk on her face tells enough, her lips crash back onto yours, all tongue. You wrap your arms around her slim waist as you stand up, her legs wrapped around you. Carrying her to the bedroom, trying not to walk into furniture while your vision is blocked by her. Reaching the bedroom, you throw her onto the bed. Her body rocks up and down, her tits bounce, her hair sprawled out and legs spread wide. She beckons you in with her finger, "Come here, baby." Her other hand down between her legs, spreading her puffy lips apart. You lick your lips and dive in, jumping onto the bed. Your head right between her thighs, inhaling the scent of her sex. Her fingers trace through your hair as you lean down, licking a long stripe through her wet folds. Yubin throws her head back, eyes rolling up. "FUCK YES, BABE! Devour my pussy like it's your last meal!" Your tongue breaches past her lips, exploring her velvety insides, while your hand snakes up to her hole below. Your fingers probe at her puckered hole, circling the rim. "Stop teasing, put them in already!" You look up at her and push two fingers inside her anus, knuckle by knuckle they sink deeper. The way her face contorts made your cock throb, aching to be inside either of her holes.
Your fingers curl upwards, scratching her walls. Her pussy began to clamp down on your tongue, her climax was close. Redoubling your efforts, your mouth closed over her engorged clit, sucking and flicking the bundle of nerves with your tongue. Her breathing became more erratic, grinding her slit against your eager mouth. When adding a third finger into her stretched hole below, she finally shatters. "FUCK, IM CUMMING!" A flood of her cum fills your mouth and goes down your throat, your fingers in her ass continue to pump in and out, prolonging her orgasm. Gush after gush of her sweet nectar drenched your face and the sheets. Breaking off from her, a clear string of her aftermath connecting you to her still. "I love making you cum like this... drinking up all your juices." She laid flat, panting. Reaching out a hand to you and pulling you in for another kiss. She moans when tasting herself on your lips. She breaks the kiss, "Mhmm... I taste good, hehe." You laugh, continuing to kiss her face, neck and collarbones. Your aching cock hovering right above her core, while you take one of her nipples into your mouth. Her back arches of the bed, moaning loud. "Babe... I need you... I need you inside me!" Her pleas broken between moans. Looking down between yours and her body, you see your cock, ready to be used. Giving it a few slow pumps as your lips stay sealed around her nipple, you align yourself with her dripping cunt. "How bad do you want me inside? Tell me." Your leaking tip nudging at her entrance.
Yubin whines, "mhhhh don't tease meeee, baby. Please... just fuck me!" You smile wickedly, diving in and nibbling at her neck. Her head moves away, giving you more space. Sucking at her pulse point, leaving a red mark. Yubin moans "Mhmm..." her hips bucking, seeking friction on your cock. "Look at you, so desperate for my cock." While she starts to look annoyed, you lean down and capture her lips in another kiss. Her legs wrap around you, keeping you in place. You reach down to your cock and hold it, dragging your tip through her folds, even nudge it at her puckered butthole. Breaking the kiss, you stare her into the eyes. Slowly pushing into her heat, her mouth flies open and eyes close. "Fuuuuuuck..." she moans, her legs trapping you tighter. "Fuck, Yubin..." her tight walls squeezing your cock. You bottom out in her cunt, letting it rest. Her eyes open again, searching for yours. "I love you..." she whispers, you respond by pressing your lips against hers again, tongue exploring her warm mouth. At the same time your hips move back until only your tip is inside her. With a brutal snap, you push it all the way back in. Yubin gasps into your mouth, her firm tits bouncing from the push. "Harder..." she whispers against your lips, you gaze at her with renewed hunger. Your rhythm grows faster, driving into her deeper. Your tip nudging at the entrance to her womb, small spurts of her arousal spraying with every thrust in.
"Ahh... nghh... mhmm..." Yubin’s noises spur you on, fondling her full tits with one hand and sucking on her nipples. Her fingers tangled in your hair, not pushing, just holding. Her whimpers and moans get more and more ragged, her nails leaving red trails on your back. Releasing her nipple with a wet pop, "Yubin, I love you!" Your thrusts speed up, while her eyes search yours after the confession. Her hand cups your jaw, pulling you in for a deep and sensual kiss again. Your thrusts slow, getting too lost in the kiss. Your hand stays on her breast, squeezing the soft flesh, rolling and twisting her nipple. Her lips leave yours for a second, gasping for air. "Baby..." she sighs on your lips, her eyes staring right into yours. With a wicked smirk and surprising strength, she pushes you onto your back. You gasp, "Yubin..." as she kneels over you, still impaled by your cock. "Let me take control for a bit." looking down at you with a wicked smile. Your hands roam over her slim frame, along the curve of her hips and by the swell of her perfect sized tits. She grabs your hands, guiding them over her globes, intertwining her finger with yours. Yubin's hips begin to roll, your crotch drenched with her essence. "You're so sexy... so... perfect..." you moaned, squeezing her boobs firmly. She let go of your hands, reaching for your shoulders. Yours rest on her waist, digging into her soft skin. "We really... should've done... this... earlier... fuck..." she moaned, her hips rolling and rocking faster. You laugh, "Hah... better late than never, right?" Her eyes roll, head shakes a little. "Shut up and fill me up already, idiot." She leaned down, kissing you with hunger. While she's laying flat, her soft breasts press against your chest. Her kiss was sloppy, all tongue and spit. Your hands wander to her plump butt cheeks, grabbing hold of the soft flesh. She moaned into your open mouth, the leaning to the side "What are you waiting for, baby. Fuck a baby into me..." she whispered into your ear.
Yubin’s hips moved on their own, up and down, making use of your whole length. You groan, perplexed you ask, "ahh... aa... a baby? Are you serious?" She laughs, "No, silly. I'm on the pill, buuuuut maybe at some point..." with a gasp you capture her lips again, Yubin giggles happily. Your hands on her butt squeeze down, then spread them apart. "You're insane..." you murmur against her lips, "You love it though!" You roll your eyes, then angles your legs. "And you're gonna love this!" With a hard thrust up, you slam into her as she was going down. Yubin gasps loudly, "AHH fuck!" You repeat, hard thrust up, burying yourself to the hilt inside her. Another loud gasp, "Again..." she sighs. Your hips buck into her hard again, followed by another gasp. Her face snug in the crook of your neck, looking at your face. You keep up the rhythm, her gasps turned to soft whimpers. Yubin places soft kisses along your jaw and neck, "Don't.... stop... please..." You look down at her, eyes closed, mouth open. Her pussy spasming around your pounding cock, leaking copious amounts of juices. Clear strings of her arousal form between your and her crotch, wet squelches with every meeting of skin. Your hips blurred, then she went rigid, head threw back. "AHHHHHHHH FUCK!" She shrieked, a forceful jet of her creamy girlcum shot out around your shaft. Your thrusts slowed, drawing out her orgasm longer. Her hips buck as the last spurts sprayed, then went completely limp. Breath heavy and ragged, eyes half lidded. "I need to invest in hydrophobic sheets... holy fuck." Yubin snorts, giving your chest a soft slap. "You're... an idiot..." you chuckle, "Your idiot now, hehe"
You place a quick kiss on her forehead, then roll her onto her back, still sheathed deep inside her dripping core. "Woahhh!" Her soft tits bounced from the sudden movement, her eyes open wide, staring into yours. A smile full of mischief on your face, "You want a baby right here?" Your hand trailed over her toned stomach "Then let me put one in there!" Your other hand reached for her ankle, lifting her leg over your shoulder. "Oh fuck..." her back arched off the soaked mattress, the new angle giving deeper access. Your hips moved back, then slammed forward again. A soft whimper escapes her lips, boobs jiggling from the force. "Again.... harder...." Her trembling hand reached for your hand resting on her waist, intertwining her fingers with yours. A soft smile formed on her lips, but quickly dissolved back into being open, gasping for air as your thrusts continued. "I... love... you... fuck..." your thrusts fasten, chasing release. "I'm close..." you groan, giving her leg that's been resting on your shoulder a kiss. Her words of love spur you on, leaning forward and pressing her leg down onto her chest, her other leg wrapped around your waist. Placing a soft kiss on her lips, foreheads pressed together. Staring into each other souls, as you pound into her. Yubin's soft moans like music to your ears, accompanied by the wet squelches from down below. "I'm... I'm close... again..." her face changed, eyes rolled back in her head, mouth open and gasping for air. Your own climax was right around the corner as well, every thrust edging you further. You can feel her walls clamp down again, squeezing your pistoning cock. "Cum for me, baby!"
Like flipping a switch, she came undone. "AHHHHHH! NGHHHH! I'M CUMMING!" Her legs shook, her grip on your hand tighter. A thick gush of creamy squirt drenched you and the sheets further. "Fuck..." you groaned looking down at the mess she was making, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Then finally, with one last deep thrust, you erupt, flooding her depths with your semen. You moan into her open mouth, bucking your hips with every spurt. Her nails rack over your back, leaving red trails. One last deep breath and you unloaded everything into her, filling her completely, some of it leaking out around your shaft. "So... full... wow..." both of you out of breath, the bed a mess. "Maybe... I was a... little pent up... oops..." she chuckles, "A little? Hah!" Slowly you pull your softening cock out of her, leaving her pussy gaping open a bit. A thick drop of your essence bubbled out, making comedic fart noises. You watched transfixed, "wow... I pumped you so full..." Suddenly her whole body shivered, followed by a soft golden stream of pee. "Oh my god... I'm sorry!" Embarrassed she covered her leaking hole, "No no, it's okay... that's... fucking hot!" Yubin smiled, exposing herself again. "Plus, Yooyeon & Jiyeon have pissed themselves so much, im desensitized now, Hah!" You both laughed, then she reached down, scooping some of the leaking mixture of semen & urine up. Her hand moved back up to her mouth, taking her slimy and wet fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean individually. "Mhmm..." she moaned tasting your combined essence, then releasing her fingers with a wet pop, "...delicious!"
Her gaze is onto you, smiling seductively. "Look at that... let me clean you up, baby." Before you can react, she has engulfed your half hard cock with her mouth. Her soft tongue swirled around the head, cleaning off all of her juices. "Mhmm..." she moaned, then popped off with a string of saliva connecting her still. "You're incredible... fuck." You sigh, watching her wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. "You're not to shabby yourself!" She leaned back against the headrest, slowly circling her finger over her engorged clit. "I'm gonna go shower, clean off all the filth." You nod, "Alright, I'll change these sheets in the meantime..." Yubin snorts, on her way to the bathroom, "My bad! Hehehe." The door shutting behind her. You scramble and take off the drenched sheets, "What a mess... but worth every second." In the background you hear the water running and a faint humming. You throw the dirty sheets into the washing machine and take some fresh ones from the closet, "Definitely need to buy these hydrophobic sheets ASAP!" you murmur while walking back to the bed. Yubin in the meantime has finished, walking into the bedroom, drying off her hair. "I'm done! Go get cleaned up, you filthy animal." You scoff, "Tsk, rude!" walking by her and placing a quick kiss on her lips. Yubin then holds up her object that was buried deep in her guts, an 8 ball wrapped in a condom. "Forgot about this... oops." You gasp by it's size, "Holy shit..." She giggles and makes herself comfortable on the fresh sheets, eyes already heavy and falling closed shortly after. You clean yourself quickly and get back to the bedroom, walking in you see her already asleep. "Oh..." carefully you lay next to her, placing another kiss on her forehead. She shuffles a little, a big smile forming on her face. "Sleep well, my love." With a smile on your face, you wrap an arm around her, snuggling up close. You fall asleep quite fast, dreaming about the bright future ahead with her.
"The Kim Gaeul that hired me?" "Who else, dumbass."
You almost miss the turn.
The steering wheel jerks slightly under your hands as your vans run along the road. Sunlight flashes through the trees lining the long road adorned with what you called "money house". The painting is secured in the back, wrapped carefully in brown paper and bubble wrap (Hair tie, 24/09), and delivering to your lovely frequent buyer, the Ji family. Usually the ride is quiet, with the radio tuning on pop music or whatever…
But no, this time is just Sakura yapping.
"The same girl, yes," she says with a tone far too cheerful. "The shit eating girlie."
"It's poop-flavoured curry."
"You told me you two ate literal shit."
You sigh, pinching your nose bridge for a moment. "Anyway, you're telling me she signed up for Rent-a-Friend voluntarily?"
"Fill out the form like us too. Ya, she wrote this long, earnest section about wanting to learn how to connect with people without pressure and trying something unfamiliar."
Ok, that tracks painfully well.
You glance at the traffic light ahead. "Did she say why?"
"Let me check…the form says: inspired by a particular cute guy."
"Don't fuck with me, Kkura." "I'm not!"
Yeah, you don’t believe her one bit, but Sakura still defends herself. "Do you know how excruciating it is to read reviews of you and not mine? Are you trying to rub it off your face?"
You snort. "Your fault for reading it."
"Oh jeez I wonder why?" She continues. "Totally not because management assigned me to train her. ME!"
The light turns red. But you haven't moved yet.
"YOU?!" You shout. “They didn’t think to—oh, I don’t know—assign the person she actually hired?”
"I guess they want the same gender just because."
"Gosh, Gaeul's gonna have one rough time." "You bitch!"
"You invoice people wrong for 3 weeks. I heard from management." "Okay, that was one time."
"She's going to think the whole service is a scam."
Sakura clicks her tongue. "You're just mad because YOU want to be her trainer."
The car honks behind you, and you finally step on the pedal. The road starts to widen now, buildings thinning out, iron gates and tall hedges replacing storefronts. The Ji family mansion isn’t that far, and you can already picture the long driveway, the security booth, the polite nod from the guard who recognizes your car by now.
'Why would I be?"
"Oh please." Sakura laughs. "She's really pretty even from me. And you just want to move on from your ex."
"Shut up and hang up."
"Gosh you are so baby. Anyway, I'll train her well. Just so that you can be soooo happy when you see her."
The wrought-iron gates of the Ji mansion come into view, black and immaculate, already beginning to slide open as your car approaches. You pull into the driveway, gravel crunching softly beneath the tires. The mansion looms ahead, expansive yet pristine as always.
“I’m here,” you say. “Don’t traumatize her.”
“No promises,” Sakura replies. “But hey — if she quits, I’m blaming you.”
And the line goes beep.
-
You wait.
That's usually how it goes when delivering to the Ji family — just some peacefully quiet stretches of nothing before you hit the road again. You stand near the edge of the main hall at first, then drift outside when the quiet gets a bit too overbearing, and the painting is still wrapped tightly.
You always wander around the path, and as usual, always marvel at the cleanliness and the scale. Trimmed hedges, pale stone paths, and a fountain splashing softly somewhere. Don’t even start on the fresh smell of grass mixed with something floral and expensive that probably has a French name you can’t pronounce. It feels familiar, actually, remembering how you peeked over the giant walls of your ex's house while waiting for her to sneak out.
That's when you notice a girl. From afar.
She's further in the garden, under a pergola. One leg against a wooden bench, her body folds with slowed and controlled precisions. The late afternoon light filters through the deciduous trees, casting patterns across her delicate shoulders. She has this dark hair pulled into a neat bun, and a leotard that makes you question if cold is a foreign concept for her.
Who is she, really? You’ve never seen her around here before. Maybe you missed her — the mansion is really fucking big.
Well, curiosity kills the cat, so you just walk to the uncharted habitat. Your footsteps crunch against the gravels and the shriveled leaves, and she turns her head to the noise immediately. Her posture instinctively straightens up before she relaxes again, and her face beams with a smile.
She lifts her hand and waves.
Oh. A little awkward, yourself, but you return it. "Hey. Um…Hi."
She doesn't respond. Just tilts her head slightly, seemingly waiting. Interesting. "Sorry, I was just…" You vaguely gesture around like that explains anything. "…uh, anyway, whatcha doing here?"
She blinks. And then her hands move with such fluidity and precision. Beautiful too, have to include that — she really has long and delicate fingers, yet she moves it to form some sort of symbols so quick as if she has done it her whole life.
It takes you exactly two seconds to realise you have absolutely no fucking clue what she just said. "Ah…ok, that's on me."
She puts one hand over her dainty lips and silently (and politely) laughs. Her shoulders lifting up and down, probably have gotten used to this scenario. Before you embarrass yourself further for your ignorance, you reach into your breast pocket (thank fuck you're wearing polo jacket today) and pull out your notebook and pen.
Quickly flipping through the paper, you hastily scribble. "Can we write?" You wrote.
She reminds you of Pingu a lot when her eyes beam up immediately. Her hands take them from yours with a degree of carefulness, and then write neatly and quickly.
"Hi! My name is Ji Suhyeon!"
Ji…Suhyeon? Ji? The Ji family?
Now it makes sense. The owner usually talks to you about his only daughter inside the mansion busy with her practice. So this is what she looks lik— oh, she's writing something else.
"'Su' as in excellent or long-lived, and 'Hyeon' as in worthy or wise. My name, you can think of it as 'exemplary virtue'"
You stare at the page for a second. Woah, beautiful name, and beautiful explanation too.
"Nice to meet you too, Suhyeon." Your hand quickly catches up with your voice. Your name is written down first, then usual greetings as the notebook is being exchanged back and forth like you have been doing it for ages.
She writes again. "I'm a ballerina, as you can see."
That doesn't surprise you at all. "Yeah, I figured. Don't worry."
She looks amused, and then adds more. "Your paintings are so pretty. It looks great around the houses. My father really likes collecting them."
You give her an appreciative bow. "That is very kind of you, Suhyeon. Guess I will give your dad a discount for this one."
She bites her lips to not let out a smile. She fails, and you swear this girl will be the death of you today. "I often see you from far away when you bring paintings. This is the first time we really talk. Well, writing."
You huff. "Yeah. Writing."
"Kind of like texting on Insta." "Yeah, kind of like tex—" Wait.
Insta?
"Couldn't we just text on SNS?"
Suhyeon looks at the words on the paper, and it looks like the realisation hits her too. She smacks the notebook on her forehead and silently laughs again, her shoulders shaking.
You burst out laughing too. 'Right? We're standing here like back in the 1800s."
She scribbles faster now. "I forgot that you might not know sign language, so I just write automatically."
You follow suit with the line underneath. "I forgot SNS exists, so we're even."
She tilts her head, still somehow keeping the posture since you come over, then writes: "Do you want to add me on Insta?"
How straightforward she is.
You nod quickly, and your hand hastily grabs the phone out of the pocket before handing it to her. She takes it with both hands — careful, almost ceremonial, even — and types in her handle. When she gives it back, the screen is still on her profile: @jiyeon. But the profile picture is the main show. It's not some ethereal and graceful ballerina professional portrait. It's…actually just a zoomed-in selfie, with her cheeks puffed out and her eyes as wide and bright. Kinda like Pingu.
You look up at her, and she is as frozen as the rock nearby her. Her ears are red. Her cheeks are red. Even the tips of her fingers look red.
You look back at your phone.
Then at her.
Then back at the phone.
"…Pff."
She lunges and tries to yank your phone away. You dodge it instinctively, not because you are trying not to break it, but just because her reaction is hilarious. Feeling defeated, she scribbles aggressively in your notebook. "It's not funny!"
You grin. "It very much is. Funny, cute, and elegant.”
Her cheeks turn pink as she writes. "YES, MY IMAGE IS VERY ELEGANT." in all caps.
You look her up and down slowly, analysing the posture, the bun, the breathing, and then back to the puffy cheeks. Then you nod solemnly. "Of course, very elegant."
She narrows her eyes at you. Then, after a second, she writes, with a belated sigh. "Please forget what you saw."
You (fake) contemplate for a moment, then write. "Nah"
She swats your arm with your notebook while puffing her cheeks. And you have to admit it — she looks cuter than Pingu.
The recovery takes a while before a comfortable pause settles between you. No more sounds of scribbling — just the gentle rhythm from the fountains and the rustle of the overhead canopy. Somewhere up in the tree, a bird startles and takes off.
You write again. "I do other work too." You hesitate about writing it down, but you decide to do it anyway. "Rent-a-frien—"
"Oh, hey!" A voice cuts cleanly through the garden. You flinch slightly, instinctively straightening as one of the Ji family’s dealers steps out onto the stone path. He’s already adjusting his glasses, tablet tucked under his arm. Right, time to do my actual business here.
You wince apologetically at Suhyeon. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, tapping the notebook lightly. “I’ve gotta—”
A thumb up from her comes quickly. She hands you your notebook and pen back carefully, fingers lightly brushes yours. You step back, already shifting into your polite-business mode, but your phone buzzes in your hand.
@jiyeon sent you a message.
You look up. She’s holding her own phone now, pretending very hard to look composed. Elegant. Untouched by embarrassment… maybe.
Jiyeon:
It was nice to finally meet you properly.
(Not like the 1800s writing version.)
You look up at her. “It was,” and this time there’s no teasing tone. "See you around, Suhyeon."
And before you finally leave her alone, you type back one more thing.
You:
Modern technology is amazing. See you around…puffy.
Jiyeon:
Delete that nickname right now.
-
A few weeks later, you're standing on your tiptoes like a darn moron, purely because you are too lazy to drag the ladder from across the studio.
To be fair, your fresh stack of notebooks is idling on the top of your sketching bookshelves. The ladder — perfectly usable and stable — is leaning against the opposite wall. Yet, instead of grabbing it, you decided that today is the day you deepen your understanding of ballerinas.
Specifically, the foundation of the whole art form. Pointe.
"Okay…" you breathe heavily and rise slowly, one hand braced against the shelf and your calves immediately screaming to stop. "So far so good, I hope."
You rise a little higher anyway, trying to mimic what you remember from the sketches and reference photos. Weight forward, ankles straight, balance centred. Shift your weight forward an- yea, no. No. No. Instant regret. Mayday, mayday. Board the ship. Your calves literally scream, and your toes are carrying the entire weight of your body, and for one horrifying second you understand why ballerinas either deserve medals or lifetime free healthcare.
“Oh this is ba—”
Your phone buzzes. The vibration nearly makes you lose balance. You drop flat onto your feet so fast the impact echoes slightly against the studio floor. Honestly, you almost fell on your butt. But luckily, you catch yourself on the edge of the desk, wincing as blood rushes back into your feet.
“…Ow.”
Finally, you check your phone.
Jiyeon:
Are you alive?
You snort.
You:
Somewhat. Just studying pointe for sketching practices, and I think my ankles are dying.
Jiyeon:
Are you trying it barefoot? You're not supposed to!
You:
Oh really?
Jiyeon:
You’re stupid. We have paddings in the shoe.
It feels like you're winning life when a pretty girl tells you that you are stupid. Huh, 'she' always called you stupid back then, well until you can't differentiate if it was affectionate or she was just berating.
The thought flickers past and you shove it away quickly.
You:
Oh…..
Well, ahem. How do you do?
Nice pivot.
Jiyeon:
I’m okay. Just practicing a lot.
Wyd?
You glance around your studio.
Papers scatter everywhere. Charcoal dust near your elbow. A half-finished study of a foot en pointe (sort of badly proportioned, now after a look.) But after Jiyeon’s explanation about padding, suddenly something clicks in your head. Gotta do it later otherwise you forget.
You:
Drawing. Thinking of pulling another all-nighter after you told me I'm stupid.
You?
Jiyeon:
Just practicing. Recital soon.
You:
Nervous?
The three dots linger longer than before. And then it's gon— oh, it comes back.
Jiyeon:
A little.
You:
You'll do well.
Jiyeon:
I searched something.
…That is not the usual response to encouragement.
You:
What is?
Jiyeon:
Rent-a-friend.
Holy fucking shit. Your mouth — no wait, your fingers — and their stupid slip ups. Why did you even mention that job to her in the garden that day? You start pacing across the studio, bare feet tapping against the floor. But if she hires you… fine. That’s the job. But something about mixing work with someone you actually enjoy talking to makes your stomach twist weirdly. And clients with money (also 'her') always bring complications. Except the Ji family. they’re… nice.
Still. You wipe your palms on your shirt.
You:
Ah…it's pretty easy to find, yeah.
Jiyeon:
Your profile picture is less elegant than mine.
The ballerina, the witch, and the audacity of this bi—
You:
Hold on, what?
Jiyeon:
Did you just wake up and take a photo?
You stare at your profile picture in silence. Messy hair. Half-awake expression. Coffee mug in frame.
You:
…no comment.
Jiyeon:
Gosh, good thing I'm outside to help you out.
“Oh wow,” you mutter. “How kind of her.” Clearly she’s here to save your public image. Maybe recommend clothes. Maybe fix your lighting. She probably has good taste — ballerinas live in elegance and aesthetics after all. And with the kind of money the Ji family has, she could try every fashion style in existence.
…actually, dial back, outside?
You:
Outside where?
A knock hits your studio door. Your brain takes a second to catch up.
“…You’ve got to be kidding me." You walk to the door, already rubbing your hands on your shirt to get rid of some of the charcoal dust. When you pull the door open, there she is.
Ji Suhyeon.
Her hair is not a bun this time, just pulled into a high, slightly messy ponytail, soft waves spilling down her back.. She's wearing an oversized gray hoodie that people will think she stole from her older siblings (she doesn't have one, as far as you know), with sleeves long enough to swallow half her hands.
And, annoyingly, the print on the hoodie is a bold, bubbly font: "I'm a bad influence."
"What…the…"
She lifts her phone slightly and tilts it toward you. Oh hey look, it's your DMs with her.
Jiyeon:
Gosh, good thing I’m here to help you out.
She looks as proud as the day Leonardo Da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa.
"You could've let me know, far out." Yet, you still step aside out of habit as she slips past you into the studio like it's a normal space in her own world. It's only when she stops in front of your working area that she slows down and lets her gaze travel across the room. And now she can see the study sketches that you have been doing. A lot of them — feet en pointe, arches, half-finished poses, the same tragic drawing where the ankle angle looks painful.
"Don't even." you groan, seeing how her cheeks puff up again and trying her hardest to not laugh. "I'm not into feets, ok? Just research. Meeting you got me curious about ballerinas and stuff…yeah."
She just shrugged. How sassy, Ji Suhyeon.
Anyway, you watch as she pulls a clean page from your notebook stack (the same one you almost died retrieving) and scribbles something.
"I want to sign up."
You stare at the five words longer than you notice. "Oh."
She scribbles again. "Why do you look at me like that?"
"Wait, no I didn't mean—" You start writing a reply quickly, but before you finish she lightly smacks your side.
"I'm kidding!"
Trickster, she is. Tricksters.
Ok, then she continues. "I do have…acquaintances, I suppose. But my recital is next week, they will be spending time with their own family and stuff." She sighs for a moment before continuing. "My parents will be busy."
"Business trip?" And Suhyeon nods again.
"I got used to it, sure. But it's quite a big recital in 2 weeks…and I really wonder when I will stop dancing for an empty pair of seats."
The studio feels a little quieter after that. The air conditioner hums. A page rustles somewhere near your elbow. But none of that miniscule detail matters when you look at her, staring down at the paper like something will happen miraculously if she writes it in a magical notebook. Alas, it's not Death Note or the more positive allegory that probably exists somewhere.
Somehow, you do see yourself in her, doing things for someone you adore, only for them to not be…there, watching you. Sigh. Move on already, far out, it's been like 4 years now.
“Alright,” you say, sliding it onto the desk. “You know the terms.”
You open it, and go with the usual clauses: maximum seven days, face-to-face time covered, calls and messages included — the same formula perfectly crafted, really.
Suhyeon is way too excited to even let you finish your sentences, with the way she nods mid-explanation. She literally just signs her name quickly as soon as you finish talking, yet the handwriting is neat and confident. You sign beneath it, the scratch of pen against paper feels louder than usual.
For a moment, neither of you says anything.
Then she stretches to the belly pocket of the hoodie, and pulls out a rather worn out ballerina shoe. Pastel pink no longer shines and soft, the poor lad is no more. The edges slightly frayed, the strings feel like it crumbles up instead of flowing freely.
"It's from my first ever recital." She writes.
Your fingers hover above the shoe before you pick it up. It’s lighter than you expected. Wow.
"Well, guess I'll be in your c—"
Your phone buzzes. You look down.
Jiyeon:
Time to update your profile!
You slowly lift your gazes toward her, and she's already holding up her phone, with the camera app open. Grinning.
"Oh FUC—"
-
A few days before the recital, you find yourself parked outside her ballet academy late at night.
The place looks very different compared to the bright, elegant studios you usually imagine when people say ballet school. The building is still beautiful, sure, but at this hour it’s quiet. The tall windows glow warm from the lights inside, stretching long golden rectangles across the damp pavement outside. Somewhere down the street a laundromat hums softly, the smell of detergent mixing with the faint scent of rain-soaked asphalt.
Your engine is off, the window already rolled open. Phone in hand, you are just scrolling aimlessly for the third time. Sigh. You could be back at the studio right now. Cleaning brushes. Priming a few old canvases you’ve been neglecting. Maybe finishing that pointe sketch you butchered earlier. But instead, your fingers end up leading your screen to your DMs with Suhyeon this afternoon.
Jiyeon:
After practice… chicken?
You:
You’re the ballerina. Isn’t that illegal?
Jiyeon:
Only if someone finds out.
You:
Your instructors might kill me.
Jiyeon:
Well, protect me then, good friend.
And that's how you ended up here waiting patiently for your clie— wait no, that's rude to say that. Your friend. Yeah. (You're technically correct, but still.) It’s your new routine after accepting her request — unexpectedly becoming her chauffeur.
The studio doors eventually swing open, and the first group of ballerinas comes spilling out into the night. Even across the street, you can tell they just want to rest — make up still on, loose hoodies, puffy jackets, sneakers, tote bags slung over shoulders. Their hair — usually tightly wound into strict buns — is messy now, strands falling around their faces. Some leave in pairs, some in loud groups of four or five, laughing about something that probably happened during the rehearsal.
None of them are Suhyeon though, so you keep watching in the van. Every now and then someone glances toward the car parked along the curb. Probably wondering if you’re a driver, a parent, or some random guy waiting for someone. (Technically you’re all three.)
Finally, a familiar figure appears in the doorway. Puff— sorry, Suhyeon. But wow, even in casual clothes, she's not that hard to spot — straight spine, shoulder relaxed but not caved in. A tote bag hanging from one shoulder. No tight bun this time — just loosely tied.
But she's alone. You should come out and greet her, yeah? That sounds good.
Not so good when you hear voices nearby. A small group of ballerinas linger near the entrance, clearly not in a hurry to leave.
"…It's always weird me out." "Yeah, me too." "The instructors spend way more time correcting her."
"Right? Like the heck she's some top student." "Pleeeeeaasssee, she's nowhere near Kazuha."
The name does ring a be— ah! It's the top girl Suhyeon mentioned once before when you both were hanging out at her home garden again. The girl who everyone measures themselves against, even Suhyeon.
“It’s just favoritism.” “Exactly. If anyone deserves that level of attention, it’s Kazuha.” "Bet she's only there so that our academy can say we're inclusive."
Soft, obnoxious laughter follows before they fade away like the girls walking out. And Suhyeon is still standing there, a few steps away, and probably waiting for the sidewalk to clear before leaving.
All you feel is your heart seething out of anger and just regret. Regret to not walk over and tell them to shut the fuck up. Regret that you have to stop yourself to not taint Suhyeon's name and her hard work. What rumours can these snakes make when they see Suhyeon is being protected by a random guy they have never seen?
You know her position way to fucking well — exactly what happened to you with your ex.
So a deep breath you take. Let's not cause a drama.
You are simply here to make sure she doesn't go home thinking about those voices without one to fight back. And what you do first is to text her to know that you're here.
You:
I'm in the parking lot, Puffy.
Her head turns immediately, and her entire face changes — a tired, neutral look melts into a warm smile. Her cheeks puff up as the corners of her lips go up. She lifts her hand and waves back, quickening her pace as she walks over.
You step out of the car and open the passenger door. "Hey there, Puffy."
Which, for your kind and gentleman-like manners, she rolls her eyes as she gets in.
The moment she sits down, she exhales deeply. You don't even need to ask to know how long the rehearsal was.
"So…Chicken?"
She pulls out her phone and types.
Jiyeon:
Actually…ramen?
You glance at her. "Your instructors now WILL kill me."
Jiyeon:
I really want ramen, though.
You stare at the message for a second before just…sigh. “Fine. But if your ballet career collapses because of noodles, I’m not taking responsibility.”
Her smile is convincing enough for you to start driving toward the best ramen shop you know.
-
Credit where it's due — even though Sakura works there, the ramen shop is actually really good. Which says a lot.
(Because if you judged the place purely based on her, you assume that the broth will be just the energy drink she stocks up over the months.)
The moment you slide the door open, the little bell above it dings softly. Warm air rushes out to meet you. Steam. Soy sauce. Garlic. The low comforting smell of broth that’s been simmering for hours. It’s a small shop with a small corner. A few tables along the wall. The kind of place that’s always slightly humid from boiling pots and never fully quiet until it's late night.
Immediately, her voice comes out from the counter.
"Oh?"
You look up. "Oh."
There she is behind the counter, hair tied into a lazy ponytail, sleeves rolled up, apron tied loosely around her waist like she half-committed to the job. One hand is holding a ladle. The other is resting on the counter as she leans forward with the enthusiasm of someone who just spotted gossip walking through the door. Her eyes flick to you, then to Suhyeon, then back to you.
“Oh?” she repeats, louder this time.
"Don't even."
For context: the ramen shop belongs to Sakura’s uncle. Family business (more accurately: the only place that willingly allows Sakura’s personality to exist behind a food counter without filing complaints.) She occasionally works here when she feels like it, which is about once or twice a week. Unfortunately, tonight is one of those nights.
“Well well well,” she says, tapping the ladle against the pot. “Look who finally brought a girl here.”
Suhyeon pauses beside you, and you instinctively shield her from your annoying friend/coworker. "Don't worry, she's annoying but harmless."
"I'm not annoying!" "You are."
You walk to the counter anyway and slide onto one of the stools, and Suhyeon sits beside you.
“You going to introduce us,” she says sweetly, “or should I just assume things?”
“You assume things anyway.” “Correct.”
Hah, this girl. "This is Suhyeon." And Suhyeon lifts a hand in a small wave.
Sakura watches her carefully for a moment, then notices the way Suhyeon reaches for her phone and types quickly.
Jiyeon:
Hi. I’m Suhyeon.
Sakura blinks once, twice, and then: "Oh." Then her grin comes back even bigger. “Well that explains why he actually behaved himself for once.”
“Sakura,” you say flatly. “Can you please just bring me the usual and give Suhyeon extra toppings?”
Sakura ignores you completely. She leans closer to Suhyeon, elbows on the counter like they’re already friends. "How do you know this idiot?"
You open your mouth, but Suhyeon's fingers are faster.
Jiyeon:
We're friends.
The kitchen behind bubbles quietly. A point boils. A fan hums. Then she slowly turns her head toward you. "You did not just bring a client to my ramen shop."
You shrug. "It's your uncle's"
"Don't even." "Hey, we want ramen."
She looks at you, then back to Suhyeon once more. "WAIT! Aren't you part of the family that pays for this guy's drawing?"
Suhyeon's eyes brighten up and enthusiastically nod her head, and not going to lie, it does lift your ego up quite a bit.
“Corrupting ballerinas now? Your employers become your clients, bro.” “Please cook.”
"Bitch, I haven't even asked what she wants for topics." Sakura turns to Suhyeon. "What topping would you like, Suhyeon?"
Suhyeon seems to scroll down something on her phone (A list, maybe?), and then turn around to show her. And uh…it feels like Suhyeon just throws whatever toppings she can think of on her head.
Jiyeon:
Chashu, egg, corn, noodle, please.
Sakura can only look at you in bewilderment. "...Isn't she a ballerina?"
"She wants ramen."
Sakura leans forward slightly. “Does her instructor know about this?”
You shrug. And Sakura only laughs.
"Ok buddy, I will make it."
Suhyeon watches her go with quiet curiosity. Then she types something as you look over.
Jiyeon:
She’s funny.
You snort. “She’s dangerous.”
From the kitchen Sakura shouts, “I CAN STILL HEAR YOU.”
Her voice pierces through the usual sounds of broth boiling, ladles hitting the side of the pot, the sharp chop of a knife somewhere behind the counter (You really should check if there are any chopped fingers yet.) There's the usual hum of hers while she works, which is slightly concerning when she has something mischievous boiling up in her head.
A few moments later, she turns around with two bowls in her hand, the steam rises from them as an invitation. She sets Suhyeon's bowl down first, and holy moly, it's stacked. Rich broth shimmering under the light. Thick slices of chashu layered across the top. A perfectly cut egg. Corn floating around the edges. Extra noodles buried somewhere underneath the mountain of toppings.
Your bowl? Just a small bowl.
"…Why is mine so small?"
"You didn't say extra topping." "You always give me extra even when I don't ask!"
"Well, not today. They're all for Suhyeon." "Can I at least get another egg?"
"No."
You sigh but pick up your chopsticks anyway.
Suhyeon stares at the bowl for a second, probably calculating how much she can really eat until it's too obvious that she is on 'bulking season'. It seems to dissipate the moment you gesture her toward the bowl. And boy, she doesn't hesitate — First bite? Gone. Then another. Another. And another. Her shoulders drop bit by bit as the warmth of the ramen settles in.
Across the counter, Sakura watches her with her chin resting on one hand. "Starving?"
Suhyeon nods mid-bite, already going in for more. Satisfied with the answer, Sakura leans back, glancing between the two of you. "Big recital in a few days?"
Suhyeon nods, giving out three fingers as her mouth is busy sipping the broth. You translate instead as "three days."
Sakura whistles. "Oooft, crunch time."
“Which means she probably shouldn’t be eating this,” you add.
Sakura immediately points her chopsticks at you. "Shut up, carbs are cool."
"Do not become a fitness coach, I'm begging you."
Suhyeon laughs silently beside you, shoulders shaking. Feeling left out (probably), Sakura reaches behind the counter, grabs another bowl, and without asking helps herself to some broth and noodles straight from the pot. And she just sits down beside you two like she's part of the dinner now. (Well, she is, and always will be.)
“So,” Sakura says, leaning her elbows on the counter with a bowl of ramen in hand. “Are you nervous?”
Suhyeon pauses mid-bite, seemingly dropping her eyes slightly to the bowl. She reaches for her phone and types slowly. A lot of backspace, and a lot of typing, and a lot of stopping her own fingers before hitting send.
Jiyeon:
A little.
"Good."
You raise an eyebrow. Huh? What? Even Suhyeon tilts her head.
"if you weren't nervous, it would mean you didn't care," Sakura slurps her noodles before pointing her chopsticks toward Suhyeon. “Nervous means you want to do well.”
Gosh, you hate to admit it, but Sakura is making a lot of sense right now, so you sigh. "She's not wrong."
“Oh wow. Write this down. He agreed with me.” "Shut up."
You glance toward Suhyeon. “Besides,” you continue, shrugging slightly. “You’ve been practicing nonstop. That’s what matters.”
Your chopsticks pause mid-air. Suhyeon’s eyes flick upward. Sakura shrugs.
“You think ballet schools don’t have gossip?” she says. “Please. Any place with competition has idiots running their mouths.” She gestures vaguely with her chopsticks. “You just dance better than them. That’s the only comeback that matters.”
You glance sideways at her. “…That was surprisingly wise.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
Suhyeon is quiet for a moment, until she slowly sets her chopsticks down fully.
Her phone appears again, typing longer this time. Much longer, until the message fills most of it when she turns the screen toward you both.
Jiyeon:
I switched academies a lot growing up.
Some instructors didn’t think I should be there.
Some students didn’t either.
So my parents moved me. Again, and again, and again.
This one is the first place that feels like it might work, hopefully. So I just want to do well.
If I do badly, it feels like it will make everything look like a mistake.
Sakura sets her bowl down with a small clink. “Hey.”
Suhyeon looks up to find Sakura pointing her chopsticks at her firmly.
“Listen carefully.” Her tone is still casual, but you know her enough that there's an undertone of seriousness there. “You dancing on that stage already proves you belong there.”
She gestures toward the ramen bowl. “You think people who don’t deserve it work that hard? And if anyone talks shit,” she adds, “they can come eat here and say it to my face.”
"Why your face?" "You're just going to stand there awkwardly."
"Fair."
Guess that talk was more than enough for Suhyeon to start eating again.
-
It's today.
The recital.
You may or may not have arrived earlier than the scheduled time. Not because you're excited (lies, you are very excited), just ... .because being late would mean people looking at you, and it still imprints deep into your soul, those judgmental eyes.
You sit among strangers and pretend you belong there. As much as you don't like being surrounded by (potentially) a crowd of pretentious people, Suhyeon needs a little support from those she is familiar with.
After many days of passing by the venue (well, more like Suhyeon dragging you around and introducing every crook of the building), you have finally taken a step into it, and it certainly makes you hyper-aware of everything you do. The way your shoes sound against the polished floor. The way your jacket doesn’t quite match the rest of the room. Even the way you hold the program — like if you grip it wrong, someone’s going to notice.
(They won't. No one's bothered to stare, but your brain doesn't care.)
Soft chatter fills the space, refined and effortless in a way you’ve never bothered to learn. People greet each other like they’ve done this a hundred times, most likely because they have. Names get thrown around casually like they mean something.
“Is Kazuha performing tonight?” “Of course. She’s the highlight.” “I heard her Black Swan last year was unreal.”
A room full of people who came expecting something flawless. So suffocating, this space is. Hence, distracting your self-consciousness, your fingers brush over the smooth paper of the brochure before flipping it open. Names. Roles. Acts. Your eyes skim past all of it until it lands on her name.
Ji Suhyeon, right there. No highlight. No emphasis. No little whispers about her in the room. Just…another line.
You give out a heavy sigh, before closing the program.
-
The lights finally dim, slow at first, then all at once.
Conversations don’t end so much as they’re cut off. Mid-sentence. Mid-breath. Like someone pulled a string and the entire room forgot how to make noise. Movements still in the same unnatural way, as if it had all been rehearsed beforehand. Even the air feels like it tightens, anticipation settling heavy across the audience that makes you sit a little straighter.
Then the curtain finally rises, and Swan Lake begins in white.
Act I moves in a controlled grace and beauty, yet it feels so…distant. The stage fills with soft light, the ballets move in clean and deliberate patterns. Every line is straight. Every extension is precise. It's honestly beautiful in a more untouchable way. Untouchable. You watch the formations shift, the symmetry change, the way every movement bleeds flawlessly into the next. Prince Siegfried comes out next. Then the court scene. It's all there. Perfect. So…perfect.
But you feel nothing.
Well, not really nothing. Your elbow rests against the armrest, your fingers loosely curled near your mouth as your gaze drifts. You follow the movement, sure, but absentmindedly. If anything, you're…bored.
Because she hasn't come out yet, even in act II: The Lake.
White swans flood the stage, and you don’t need to check the program again to know this is what everyone came for. You can see it in their posture: how they lean forward slightly, eyes sharpening, anticipation turning into eagerness.
Odette appears. Ah wait, sorry, Kazuha appears.
It's understandable why her name is widespread, with her soft and ethereal appearance. Controlled down to the smallest fingertip. Every movement floats. Every step feels more like floating. A kind of presence where people don't dare to let out their breath, in case they miss out on a rare sight.
Then, light whispers of praises. Soft and reverent.
“She’s incredible,” “That control…” "Worth the prices…"
It's all white noise to you. Your eyes keep glancing at the wings. Is it time yet…?
-
Somewhere between one breath and the next, Act III begins. Something in the air feels different. It's quite interesting that you feel that before you register the music sharpens. Lighting darkens just enough to stretch shadows across the theatre.
Then, she steps out. Ji Suhyeon. Black Swan. (So this is the secret role she refuses to tell you, huh.)
Everything else disappears. The dancers blur into movement without meaning. The stage shrinks, carved down to fit only her. Maybe because you have done anatomy study of ballerinas, or maybe because you hang out with her long enough to notice how she hesitates. To be fair, it's almost invisible. A fraction of a second where her step doesn’t land as clean as it should. Her shoulders hold tension. Her breathing comes just a little too sharp, like she forced it steady before stepping into the light.
It's funny. Everyone else is watching the idea of the Black Swan, yet you're watching the girl who brings the role into life. And she's…fighting.
Her first turn is controlled, not effortless. There’s weight and intention, then her arms cut through the air with precision, sharper yet grounded. She moves again with a spin and — oh shit, a slight imbalance. The shift in her center, the way she almost tips too far before pulling herself back in. The correction happens mid-motion, quick enough to hide from anyone not looking for it. She grounds herself harder into the stage, sharpens the next movement, pushes the expression further like she’s forcing something out of herself instead of letting it flow naturally.
And you finally pay attention to the whisper behind you. “She’s good.” “A bit tense.” "She has potential."
That clicks a memory in your mind.
"I can’t speak, but I can express myself with ballet."
This is to answer what you ask her, from an artist to another: What makes you do art?
But now you can finally see what she meant. Not the clean and perfect movements you usually associate ballet with. Not the effortless grace filling the stage before her. It's uneven, yet you find it more intrigued than anything else. Every sharp movement carries it. Every turn feels like it’s being forced into control rather than given freely. Her gaze hardens, not soft like Odette’s, but almost a stance, like she's saying something to herself.
Black Swan, from what you remember, is complex and multifaceted. She is portrayed as a seductive and captivating figure, often described as having a sensual and exotic nature. And that is certainly what you see from the Black Swan in front of you now. Her arms slice through the air again, sharper and faster. There’s no hesitation in the upper body anymore, just precision. Of course, her shoulders still carry tension. Her breathing still isn't perfectly hidden. And of course you notice it, but does it really matter when she owns it and turns it into something more deliberate. And that is more complex yet captivating at the same time.
You aren't sure when, but the audience stops comparing her to Kazuha. Not measuring techniques nor whispering critiques under their breath. They're just…watching.
She really does take their attention without a single word.
-
The applause doesn't come immediately. The entire theatre stays suspended in the final act.
And then it breaks, loud and sudden. Hands collide, people rise like something snapped them back into themselves. The sound fills everything, crashes against the walls, pours down from the balcony like it’s trying to make up for that one second of silence.
You don't move just yet, because she's still there, in the centre next to Kazuha, breathing. You can see it even from here, the rise of her chest, just a little too heavy. The way her shoulders don’t fully drop, like her body hasn’t gotten the message that it’s over. The tension clings stubbornly.
Only when the curtain falls, then you finally stand.
Suhyeon, they clap their hands for you now.
-
It's quieter backstage.
Everything that mattered stayed out there — the main character, the supporters, the audiences. What's left is the aftermath. And you know where to find the "villain" without much thought. Turn. Another turn. Then another turn.
And you find her sitting on the floor of the practice room. Alone and changed.
The Black Swan is gone like it never existed, replaced with an oversized hoodie that swallows her frame and loose pants that bunch slightly at her ankles. Her hair’s tied back, not neatly, just enough to keep it out of her face.
Back against the mirror, legs unevenly folded like she didn’t commit to a position before stopping altogether. One hand rests loosely against her thigh, fingers slightly curled. The other is planted on the floor beside her, keeping her upright more out of habit than need.
She looks…ethereal. A déjà vu of your first time meeting her in the garden.
So you just stand there and take it in.
The faint smudge of makeup near her eye. The way her breathing hasn’t fully settled yet. The almost imperceptible tremor in her fingers, like the performance, is still echoing through her muscles.
Then she notices you. Her eyes gleam up, and her cheeks puff up as she waves her hand.
You step closer, slow and deliberate. Close enough that she can see everything you do without having to move. It has been at the back of your mind of what you can do to make this girl…to make her effort feel more recognised. To reach her.
So…um…you raise your hand. First, you form a flat hand and touch your chin with your thumb. Then, you move your hand forward and away from your body. Flat hand down to other flat hand.
Good…
You don’t rush. You let each part land, because it's the singlehandedly most important phrase you have said ever in your life. Then the same hand makes a downward fist and taps it against the other fist twice.
…job.
Good job.
She blinks slowly, like the meaning reaches her first, then the intent, and then you. And somehow that makes her shoulders relaxed gradually. Like all the stress that has kept her tense the whole night. Her expression softens, the tension melting out of it in real time, and then…she smiles. It spreads quickly, unfiltered and almost startled in how real it looks. Her eyes brighten, with the corners crinkling slightly.
Her hand moves quickly, most likely out of excitement and habit. "Wait wait wait, I just learned that phrase."
Her hands stop mid-motion, and on cue, her cheeks turn red, probably realising her image at the moment. Then, she closes her lips as if she tries so hard to not laugh.
A second later, she reaches for her phone. Thumb swipes and quick taps, and then she angles the screen toward you.
Jiyeon:
You practiced that?
You shrug, leaning one shoulder lightly against the mirror. "Enough to not embarrass myself."
She squints at you.
Jiyeon:
You're already embarrassing.
But thank you.
You don't answer immediately, because these aren't just words. It’s the way you notice how she looks at you while you read them, like she's anticipating your reaction, expecting you to downplay it.
"…you're welcome. I'm glad."
She nods to herself, a small one, before locking her phone and setting it aside again.
For a moment, neither of you move. The room hums quietly around you. The light in the corner flickers just slightly, enough to shift the shadows along the mirrors. Her breathing has mostly steadied now, but there’s still that faint leftover energy in her posture.
Then, she nudges your knee. Once. Twice.
"Hm?"
She gestures to you.
"Hm? I'm sitting."
She rolls her eyes (actually rolls them this time) then reaches forward, grabs your sleeve, and tugs.
"Jeez, you bossy puffy." You exhale through your nose, yet you adjust anyway, shifting your position so your back presses more fully against the mirror, legs stretching out slightly in front of you. "Happy?"
Her answer? Scooting closer, turns slightly, then leans back. Her head settles against your chest like it’s always been meant to be there, like this is just…where she goes now when she’s done holding herself together. Your body adjusts faster, shoulders easing back against the mirror, one hand hovering awkwardly for a second before settling loosely at your side. Her weight sinks in, warm and solid. And she finally exhales, a long one. And she tilts her head back to look up at you. Upside down.
The Black Swan is fully gone, leaving you a puffy Ji Suhyeon in your embrace.
And it hits. That same angle and closeness. Your ex used to do that. Used to stare at you like she was trying to catch something slipping through your expression before you could hide it.
Tsk, can't believe that she still affects you till this day.
Guess Suhyeon noticed too, as the hand that rests against your thigh tightens the grip while she reaches for her phone again.
Jiyeon:
You ok?
You shake your head. "It's nothing, don't worry."
Jiyeon:
You always say that.
"It usually is."
She doesn't look convinced, but she doesn't push it either. Instead, she lowers the phone slightly, still holding it, thumb resting against the screen like she’s debating whether to say more.
She decides to press her head a little more firmly into your chest like a cat choosing comfort over answers. Her breathing slows further, evening out to a steady pace. You can feel it through the fabric of your shirt, the rhythm grounding in a way you didn’t expect to welcome it.
Jiyeon:
I don't know if this is enough.
The soft glow fills the room, and your gaze drops to her. She's not looking at you anymore, just staring at the ceiling upside down. You don't ask who is "them", you already know.
"Hey."
Her eyes flick up slightly.
"You don't need to be perfect." you sigh, "You don't even need them to just suddenly change their minds. Um…I guess, you just need one moment where you don't look like you're about to run…and you had that tonight."
There's a longer pause. Her thumb hovers over her phone, then she types.
Jiyeon:
What if it's just tonight?
"Then you do it again tomorrow…and the day after that, and the day after that." Your hand brushes lightly against her air. "You just need to keep proving yourself, like you have always done."
And she goes quiet again. No more typing. No more movement. Just steady breath.
Jiyeon:
I'll try.
-
By the time you push the door open and step outside, the night has already settled in.
Cool air brushes against your skin, carrying that faint mix of asphalt and distant traffic. The hum of the venue fades behind you as the door swings shut, leaving only the quiet stretch of the entrance and the low glow of streetlights bleeding across the pavement.
Suhyeon lingers half a step behind you. Just…slowing down. Her phone rests loosely in her hand, thumb idly tracing the edge of it like she's still holding onto something from earlier. The oversized hoodie swallows her frame again, with the sleeves bunching at her wrists as she adjusts them unconsciously.
And then, she stops.
You follow her line of sight out of curiosity and….Kazuha? Wait, that is her.
Leaning against the metal railing just off to the side of the entrance, one foot crossed over the other, relaxed posture yet not careless. Even in her everyday comfy outfit, the composure retains — as if the stage never fully left her.
She straightens the moment she sees you two, and hone in her attention to Suhyeon immediately.
You don't think it's comparing, but it doesn't help Suhyeon who shifts beside you. Her shoulders pull in just slightly, slowly scoot next to you like she hasn't decided whether to stay or retreat.
Kazuha raises her hand and waves in a friendly arc.
Hi.
Oh, she said hi…? In sign language? Suhyeon seems to be perplexed too, with how she keeps blinking.
Kazuha continues, movements controlled but softer now, less formal than they were on stage. At this point, you lose it completely. Well, hands are thrown, movements are frequent. But you can't understand it (again, you only learned one praise), so what you're left with isn't the words themselves but the shape of the conversation, the movement, the space between the signs…and more importantly, Suhyeon's face.
Kazuha continues signing, her movements controlled and precise, but softer than they were on stage. Less performative and more…direct, like she's speaking to the Black Swan and only her.
And you see the effect.
Suhyeon’s fingers twitch against her phone, her grip loosening just slightly as her shoulders drop, not completely, but enough that you can tell that right now it didn't go the way she expected it to. Her eyes flick to you quickly, not asking for permission exactly, but checking, or asking for guidance on what to do next.
You don't ask what was said. Instead…it feels right to nudge her lightly with your elbow. "Come on."
She exhales, a small and almost silent one she lets out, and then steps forward.
You're left watching from the side. At first, her movements are careful, measured, her hands staying closer to her body as if she's still holding something back, her expression still neutral and guarded. Kazuha signs again, longer this time, and whatever she says causes Suhyeon's brows to draw together slightly, confusion flickering across her face before she responds, her own signs quicker and more questioning. Kazuha answers in return, short and firm, and that’s when Suhyeon goes still, her hands hovering for a moment before lowering slowly, her gaze dropping and then lifting again, not exactly meeting Kazuha’s eyes but no longer avoiding them either.
From there, the conversation softens.
Kazuha’s movements become less structured, and Suhyeon’s posture follows, her shoulders easing as the tension drains out in small increments. Her responses come slower now, not because she’s struggling, but maybe because she’s actually thinking about them instead of reacting, and the difference shows in the way her hands move with more intention.
There's another pause. But it doesn't feel so awkward this time. Then Kazuha signs something shorter, if you dare to say, more casual.
Suhyeon curls her fingers slightly around her phone again, thumb pressing against the screen like she needs something to hold onto while she decides, and then she looks back at you. You meet her eyes and hold them, not saying anything, just giving her a small nod.
She looks down, her phone lighting up as her thumbs move quickly across the screen, and then turns it toward you.
Jiyeon:
She wants to hang out. Talk about ballet.
Is that okay?
“Why are you asking me?” you say, your tone is light but steady enough that she doesn’t mistake it. And to be clearer, you nudge her forward slightly. "Go have fun with your new friend."
She exhales again, this time with a faint huff that is more relief. When she turns back, her hands lifting with less caution, like the relationship has loosen up for her to be a little more herself. Kazuha smiles, and the two of them fall into step together, their signs picking up as they walk, hands moving in the rhythm you still can't follow but don't need to. It looks like…Suhyeon can carry herself now.
You are certain she can take care of herself now the moment your phone pings up.
Jiyeon:
Thanks for being by my side all this time. See you next time…good friend.
You stay where you are for a moment longer than necessary, watching as they disappear further down the path, Suhyeon’s posture gradually relaxing with each step until there’s almost no trace left of the girl who stood beside you just minutes ago, caught between pressure, hesitation and doubt.
Then you turn to your car.
-
By the time you step into your studio, the night has already settled. The familiar scent greets you immediately — paint, canvas, that faint chemical sharpness that never really leaves. It brings you back to your home faster than anything else could, pulling you out of the lingering echo of the theatre and into a space that you own.
The canvas is exactly right there where you left it.
It's her shoe. The one Suhyeon gives you as payment.
Even now, you can still recall the moment she handed it over. It sounds casual, like it was just an old thing she no longer needs. But you, of all people, know how hard it is to let go of something that means so much to you. Her grip lingered for a fraction too long before she pulled back, as if she had to gaslight herself it was okay to give it away.
Looking at the canvas again it looks….perfect.
Too perfect.
Every line is clean, deliberate, controlled down to the smallest detail, the kind of precision that usually satisfies you because it proves you got it right. The proportions are exact, the curvature of the arch carefully measured, the ribbons falling in smooth, elegant lines that look like they belong in a display instead. The shading is soft, seamlessly blended, giving the fabric a pristine finish that almost glows under the light.
It's polished and refined.
And that’s exactly why it feels so fucking wrong.
You remember the way the satin had dulled in certain places, the faint fraying along the edges where repetition had worn it down, the subtle discoloration near the toe where pressure built up over time, over countless movements, countless landings, countless moments where she forced her body to hold just a little longer than it wanted to. You remember how the sole didn’t look pristine but softened, shaped, moulded, carrying the imprint of every step she had taken in it.
This isn't that. Not even close.
Your hand reaches for the brush, the motion automatically and naturally. You just let it run its course — fracturing the smooth gradient, uneven stroke, pigments catching in places it wasn't supposed to, disrupting the clean surface you worked so carefully to maintain. Your brain itches to fix it immediately…
But you leave it exactly where it is.
Your movements become quicker. Shadows deepen in patches, mimicking the way wear accumulates over time, how certain areas darken under pressure while others remain lighter, how nothing is ever truly symmetrical when it’s been used and worn. Yes, that's it! The clean softness disappears. The ribbon draws your attention next, its curve too elegant, too intentional, like it was designed rather than lived in. You pause for a second, studying it, then drag the brush across it just enough to disrupt the flow, introducing a slight twist, a small imperfection in the way it falls.
You step back to see it as a whole.
It's not perfect anymore — asymmetrical, rough finish. Yet, it looks far closer to what you remember. The wear and tear, and the countless tribulations and ridicule that Suhyeon has gone through, you let it stay that way…
…and hopefully it represents Suhyeon and her effort the best.
Tada! Second part is here! Evidently, one of the more experimental fics I wrote too. Genuinely fun to write someone without being able to speak and I get to be creative with how I "voice" Suhyeon.
My apologies for the long wait with all the research and the IRL stuff going on. I can't guarantee when the next part will come out, but hope you all stay tuned!
Special thank you to @toshyun (the only reason I write Jiyeon, really.)
I have seen some good guesses from you guys regarding the mystery 4th person, so here's the next hint to help yall.
A/N: Sorry for the inactivity lately, I was planning on publishing something for valentine's day but I got sick midway through last week so I missed the day and had to go through exams as well, but now I've gotten some time to write and somehow made this. Don't really know what I wanted to do with it so just treat it as me yapping a lot.
You’ve always thought that by this age, you would be teaching somewhere bigger and not only just on merit. You’d stand in front of long classrooms, discussing history to university students who share the same fascination you have of the past.
But life has its ways to diverge from your expectations.
Instead, you’re here.
An elementary school corridor that smells faintly of floor cleaner and milk cartons. Bulletin boards crowded with uneven handwriting and construction-paper suns.
Your steps echoed down the halls, still eerily empty and quiet in the morning before the day-long storm. Your eyes drifted from one end to the other, studying the school on your first day.
Everything feels smaller than you imagined. The lockers barely reached your shoulders when they towered over you before. Classroom doors are decorated with names written in marker, letters uneven, proud. Someone has taped up a crooked poster reminding students to use kind words. You wonder, briefly, when it became easier to teach children how to be kind than adults how to listen.
You adjust the strap of your bag and keep walking.
There’s a tightness in your chest you don’t quite want to name. Not regret, not yet. Just the awareness that this is not the version of your life you rehearsed in your head years ago, when your hands were steadier and your ambitions louder.
At the end of the hall, you spot the office.
Glass window.
Low counter.
Lights already on.
You check your watch. Of course you’re early. You’ve always arrived at places as if being on time might make people believe you belong there.
Standing in the middle of the hall, you took in a breath to prepare yourself with memorizing new faces while the back of your mind wandered around the thought of your first class.
“Mr. Jo, good morning!”
You turned to the voice that called you down the hall and found an older man approaching.
You bowed your head to greet them, “Principal Jung, good morning to you too.”
Principal Jung smiles the way people do when they’ve been up since dawn and learned to carry it lightly. His tie is already loosened, jacket folded over one arm. He looks like he belongs to this building in a way you don’t yet.
“First day nerves?” he asks, stopping a comfortable distance away.
You let out a small breath that might have been a laugh. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to someone who remembers their own,” he says. “You’re early.”
You nod. “I didn’t want to get lost.”
He chuckles, glancing down the hall. “You will anyway. Everyone does. This place rearranges itself when you’re not looking.”
Principal Jung gestures toward the office door behind him. “Have you picked up your attendance sheets yet?”
“Not yet,” you admit. “I was just about to.”
“Hmm. Have you met the other teachers since we’ve last seen each other?” he asked.
You shook your head, “I haven’t but I could wait for them inside and introduce myself before classes start.”
Principal Jung shook his hand at you, “No need. Believe it or not, some of them get here earlier than you. Let me introduce you to them.”
Principal Jung turns on his heel before you can protest, already waving you along like the decision has been made weeks ago.
“Come on,” he says. “They’re probably hiding in the staff room pretending they’re not nervous.”
You follow him down the hall, steps falling into an easy rhythm beside his. The school is waking up now. Lights flick on in classrooms. A door opens somewhere, followed by the scrape of a chair. The quiet is thinning, stretched by the promise of noise to come.
The staff room door is ajar.
Inside, a few teachers are gathered around a table cluttered with paper cups and an open box of pastries. Conversation hums, low and overlapping. Someone laughs. Someone else groans dramatically about photocopiers.
Principal Jung clears his throat.
“Everyone,” he says, not loudly, but with the kind of authority that doesn’t need volume. “I’d like you to meet our new homeroom teacher for Class 3-2. This is Mr. Jo.”
All eyes turn to you.
You straighten instinctively, hands coming to rest at your sides. You bow, just enough. “Good morning. I’m Jo (YN). It’s nice to meet you. Hopefully we can get to each other better throughout the year.”
A chorus of greetings follows mixed in with friendly smiles, affirming nods and someone waving a pastry at you like an offering.
“Welcome to the chaos,” a woman near the window says. “You picked a good class.”
“You’ll survive,” another adds. “Eventually.”
The tension in your chest loosens, just a little. These are normal people. Tired, kind, familiar in their own way.
Slowly, you picked up on their names. Ms. Kim who taught mathematics, Mr. Lee whose expertise was on biology and Ms. Yamada who taught a foreign language class to name a few.
Then beside you, Principal Jung cleared his throat.
“Ah, that reminds me. Remember when I told you that only one person keeps this place together?” He tapped on your sleeve.
You nodded in remembrance. It was one of the few things he’d said that you took lightly, half expecting it to be a message about unity and working together for a better future. You didn’t expect it in the literal sense.
The sea of words and greetings in front of you silenced before the other teachers looked at each other before one of them turned to the back end of the room.
Ms. Kim separated from the group and walked to a cubicle just quick enough before you could see who sat behind it. Later she walked back, steps no longer of her own but mixed in with someone else behind her.
Ms. Kim stops just short of the table, then steps aside.
The person behind her is quieter than you expect.
They don’t announce themselves. They don’t rush. They move with a contained, deliberate calm, as if the room has learned to make space for them without being told. Office cardigan, ID lanyard tucked neatly into a pocket, a small notebook held against their chest like a habit rather than a shield.
They look at you first, not the principal.
Their eyes meet yours, steady and observant, and for a split second you have the strange sense that you’re the one being introduced.
“This,” Principal Jung says, voice fond in a way that gives the word weight, “is Ji Suhyeon. Our office assistant. She insists on being called Jiyeon so I’d advise you to do the same. She’ll correct you even before you get the chance to call her by her real name.” he humored.
Jiyeon inclines her head in a polite bow. It’s precise, practiced. When she straightens, she offers a small smile. Not wide, not performative.
She lifts a hand, palm facing inward, and taps lightly twice against her chest. Then she gestures toward you, eyebrows lifting in a quiet question.
“She’s. . .deaf?” you asked innocently but your tone left you with questionable stares from your new co-workers.
For a moment, the room stills.
Not sharply, not unkindly. Just enough for you to feel the weight of your own words settle in your chest.
“I mean—I haven’t met anyone that’s. . .I’m sorry,” you apologized.
Jiyeon doesn’t flinch.
She watches you with the same steady attention as before, head tilted slightly, eyes thoughtful rather than offended. If she noticed the way a few teachers stiffened, she doesn’t show it.
Ms. Yamada clears her throat softly. “She is,” she says, careful. “But she prefers to speak for herself.”
Jiyeon nods once in agreement. She reaches into her cardigan pocket, retrieves her pen and notebook, and writes with quick, practiced strokes. When she turns the page toward you, her expression is calm. Almost reassuring.
Yes. I’m deaf.
She takes it back and adds another line beneath it.
But, I can read lips.
You don’t have to apologize for asking. Just don’t whisper next time.
A faint smile tugs at the corner of her mouth, dry and self-aware. The tension in the room loosens, the way a held breath finally lets go.
Heat creeps up your neck. You bow again, deeper this time. “Thank you,” you say, making sure your face is fully turned toward her. “And. . . thank you for correcting me.”
Jiyeon studies you for a second longer, then nods. Approval, maybe. Or simply acknowledgment.
Principal Jung chuckles lightly, clapping his hands once. “See? This is why she runs the place. Keeps all of us in line.”
Jiyeon smiles and tucks her head in to chuckle.
“Well, assembly is up soon.” Principal Jung said to the rest of the teachers, “shall we walk to the gym together?”
Everybody else agreed, and you nodded in suit.
-
The walk to the gym unfolds in loose clusters.
Teachers fall into step beside one another, conversations picking back up where they left off. Someone complains about the microphone cutting out every year without fail. Someone else swears the floor dips near the bleachers. The building hums now, alive with footsteps and distant voices, the kind of noise that signals a day fully beginning.
You walk slightly behind the others at first, unsure where to place yourself.
Jiyeon doesn’t rush ahead.
She keeps pace beside you, not close enough to feel intrusive, not far enough to feel distant. When you glance her way, she’s already looking at you, attentive, waiting.
You clear your throat. “I’m… still new,” you say, enunciating carefully, making sure she can see your face. “If I do something wrong, please tell me.”
She considers this for a beat, then nods.
She lifts her notebook again, writes as she walks, and turns it toward you without breaking stride.
Everyone does something wrong their first week. I’ll tell you. Kindly.
Her words land softly.
You smile, a little embarrassed, a little relieved. “Thank you. Jiyeon.”
Her lips curve, just slightly more this time.
Inside the gym, students are already seated in neat rows, uniforms buzzing with quiet chatter. Teachers fan out along the sides, guiding classes into place. Jiyeon moves with practiced efficiency, tapping shoulders, pointing, catching a child’s attention with a gentle wave instead of a raised voice. The students respond instantly, fond familiarity written all over their faces.
You watch her for a moment longer than necessary.
She notices.
She lifts an eyebrow, amused, and signs something small and quick with one hand.
Working.
You laugh under your breath and look away, heat blooming faintly in your cheeks.
The assembly begins. Principal Jung steps onto the stage, microphone squealing briefly before settling. The students groan in unison, and Jiyeon winces playfully, mimicking the soundless vibration with an exaggerated shudder that makes a few nearby kids giggle.
As the principal speaks, you stand there among your colleagues, hands folded in front of you, posture attentive. You catch pieces of his speech, about new beginnings, about kindness, about growing together. Familiar words. Important ones.
But your attention keeps drifting back to the woman beside you.
To the way she watches the room instead of the stage. To how she anticipates needs before they arise. To how she exists so fully within this space that it bends around her without resistance.
When the assembly ends and the students are dismissed in a flurry of noise, Jiyeon turns to you again.
She points down the hall. Classroom. Then makes a small circling motion with her finger.
I’ll check in later.
You nod. “I’ll see you.”
She nodded back.
Then she’s gone, swept back into the rhythm of the school, leaving you at the doorway of your classroom with thirty expectant faces peering up at you.
You take a breath.
Maybe this isn’t the life you rehearsed.
But as you step inside, heart steadier than it was this morning, you realize something else too.
Somewhere along the way, without you noticing, the place rearranged itself.
And this time, it feels like it did so to make room for you.
-
Your first class went fine, as you expected with the ice breakers you’ve prepared beforehand.
You stood in front of the classroom, looking at the younger kids that you now had to look after. You’d ask them questions and they surprisingly answered back and not leave you in the middle of silence. They’d listen when you spoke about what to expect in your subject and what they would accept when they listened or if they didn’t.
By the time the first bell rang and the last shy hand went down, a small sense of rhythm had settled over the classroom. You found yourself smiling without thinking, noticing details that didn’t make it into any lesson plan, the way one student chewed the end of their pencil when thinking, the way another’s eyes lit up when they understood a point, and the quiet way they all seemed to watch for your cues, trusting you to guide them.
When you reached the office, the peace and quiet of the AC greeted you along with empty cubicles.
“They must still be in class.” You muttered, looking around the room and spotting the table that was assigned to you.
You pulled back the chair and set your bag on the table. Your eyes widened when you looked back in front and saw Jiyeon right across the room, at her own table and checking things off an attendance sheet.
When she finally noticed your presence, you saw her shoulders tense before dropping down slowly. She raised her hand up slightly in a small wave, one which you returned.
Jiyeon didn’t rush over. She stayed at her table, methodical, organized, a quiet center in the small office. You took a deep breath and pulled your chair a little closer to your own table, letting the initial flutter of nerves settle.
After a moment, she scribbled something on her notepad and held it up for you to read:
Good job on your first class.
You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. It wasn’t loud or exuberant, but it was real. You lifted your hand slightly, tapping twice against your chest, a small echo of the gesture she’d made for you earlier.
Jiyeon’s eyes softened a fraction, and she tapped her pen gently against her notebook in response, an unspoken acknowledgment. The rhythm between the two of you, unforced and patient, already felt steadier than you expected.
You glanced back at your own attendance sheets, the neat columns and names suddenly feeling less like a task and more like a map of the small world you were beginning to inhabit—and a world that now, quietly, had Jiyeon in it too.
-
You soon came to learn her rhythm around the office.
You would catch Jiyeon inside in between your classes or during your breaks. She would always be occupied with something or simply anything, whether it be checking and then arranging papers or just simply reading a book for leisure.
You couldn’t quite explain it, not yet. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, just a quiet pull at the edges of your attention. The way she moved through the office, efficient, deliberate, yet somehow unassuming, made it impossible to ignore.
Even when she was buried in paperwork, there was a calm precision to her presence that seemed to hold the small chaos of the school.
Sometimes, she’d look up from her desk and meet your gaze just long enough for a flicker of acknowledgment before returning to her task.
That tiny, effortless connection left you noticing things you hadn’t before, the soft curve of her smile when a student passed by, the gentle tilt of her head as she listened to a question, the little ways she made space for others without a word.
During your breaks, when you found her with a cup of coffee or a quiet snack, you’d sit nearby, letting the air between you fill with the easy rhythm of proximity.
Conversation came in fits and starts, her words written down in quick notes, your voice careful and deliberate, sometimes mixed with awkward gestures or clumsy attempts at sign.
Over time, the small exchanges built a kind of understanding. You learned that she had been there longer than some of your colleagues, that her dedication wasn’t just professional but deeply personal. And you could see why the students adored her—she wasn’t just present for them,
She saw them.
And somehow, your curiosity, your attention, lingered. Not just on her work, not just on her kindness, but on her.
Always on her.
-
One afternoon, you were left inside the office to check on quiz pamphlets you had your different classes answer despite the other teachers saying to leave it for another day and that they don't really do overtime but you insisted.
The office was quieter than usual. The hum of the air conditioner and the faint scratch of pen on paper were the only sounds breaking the stillness. Sunlight slanted through the blinds, catching dust motes like tiny drifting stars. You had stacked the quiz pamphlets neatly on the table, sorting them by class, and were working through each one with meticulous care, double-checking answers and marking notes in the margins.
Jiyeon had left with the others, leaving you inside until maybe when the janitor called you out.
Or so you thought.
The ink stopped over paper when a small pack of bread and bottle of water was pushed into your view.
You looked up, startled and found her wide, expecting eyes looking back down at you.
She placed it by the side of your table before she pulled out her notebook.
You shouldn't tire yourself.
You sighed softly and pushed a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling the weight of the hours you’d spent here already. “I know they said it’s fine to leave this for tomorrow,” you muttered, almost to yourself, “but I like to get things done properly.”
Jiyeon tilted her head slightly, pen poised over her notebook. She wrote quickly, the strokes sure and deliberate, then held the page toward you.
But even you have limits. Don’t make yourself small trying to finish everything at once.
You blinked, a little caught off guard. Her words weren’t scolding, they were careful, measured, and quietly concerned. You looked down at the small pack of bread again, the unspoken offer hovering between you, and felt a warmth you hadn’t expected.
“I appreciate it,” you said softly, your voice carrying more than just gratitude. “I… sometimes forget.”
Jiyeon gave a small nod, tapping her pen twice against the edge of her notebook, a silent encouragement. She didn’t hover, didn’t insist. She just stayed there, present, and that was enough.
You took the bread, unwrapping it slowly, and sipped from the water bottle. The office felt a little less empty now, the quiet punctuated by the subtle rhythm of her attention. For the first time in hours, you didn’t feel like you were facing the stack of papers alone.
When you looked up, Jiyeon caught your gaze and raised her eyebrows slightly, a question unspoken but clear:
Better?
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Much better.”
Your eyes focused on her once more before asking, “What are you still doing here?”
She scribbled on her page again.
I was helping out at the library.
You blinked, surprised. “The library?” you asked, glancing toward the window as if the quiet stacks might reveal her secret.
Jiyeon gave a small shrug, the kind that didn’t need words but carried a quiet certainty. She flipped the page again and held it up.
Books don’t move themselves.
You let out a soft laugh, the sound low and almost shy in the still office. “Right… of course,” you said. “You really do everything here, don’t you?”
Her eyes met yours, calm and unwavering, and she tapped her pen twice, her habitual rhythm that somehow felt like reassurance rather than insistence. Someone has to, her gaze seemed to say, and you found yourself nodding in silent agreement.
You leaned back slightly, letting the warmth of the moment settle. The stack of quiz pamphlets, the quiet office, the slanting sunlight—it all felt a little less tedious now, and a little more like a shared space.
You picked up your pen again, this time with less of the weight you’d felt before, and before you could continue, she wrote again.
Can I help?
She pointed to the stack that stood unchecked. Your gaze glanced between them before your head nodded lightly.
Her smile grew.
Jiyeon sat down at the other side of the table, picking one pamphlet from the stack before reading it line by line.
You took one last glance at her as you slid over the answer key.
“You can use it,”
She takes the answer key from you with care, as if it’s something fragile rather than a sheet of paper.
Her eyes move quickly, efficiently, scanning the questions, matching answers with practiced ease. You hadn’t realized how much mental noise you’d been carrying until it quiets, just a little, watching someone else share the load.
The two of you fall into a wordless system.
You pass her a pamphlet.
She checks it, marks it, slides it back.
You stack the finished ones neatly to the side.
Every so often, she pauses and nudges a paper toward you, tapping a specific answer with the tip of her pen. You lean closer, shoulder brushing hers by accident once, then again. Neither of you comment on it. You just adjust, slightly, until the space feels natural.
You had just placed another pamphlet over the stack before she nudged her notebook closer with a question scribbled upon its page.
Have you always wanted to teach history?
You pause, pen hovering midair, the question settling somewhere deeper than you expect.
“Always?” you echo quietly, more to yourself than to her. You glance down at the pamphlets, at the familiar dates and names you’ve circled a thousand times before. Then you look back at her, at the way she waits without pressure, notebook angled but unmoving.
“I think…” You exhale, slow. “I think I wanted to understand things first.”
She tilts her head, attentive. The faintest crease forms between her brows, not confusion but interest.
You continue, words coming softer now. “When I was younger, history felt like answers. Reasons why things turned out the way they did. Why people became who they were.” A small, almost self-conscious smile tugs at your lips. “Teaching came later. When I realized understanding doesn’t mean much if you keep it to yourself.”
She turns the notebook back before pushing it across the table with new words scribbled upon it.
That’s fascinating.
“You think so?” You smiled, real this time and it grew when she nodded along.
You held your pen tighter as your other hand held the notebook, keeping it in place to write something for her.
Jiyeon pulled it closer and looked at your writing.
Have you always wanted to work at a school?
The question sits there between you, written in your own hand now, the ink slightly darker where you pressed too hard.
She reads it carefully. You can tell by the way her eyes move, by the brief pause at the end, as if she’s deciding how much of herself to place on the page.
Then she turns the notebook around.
Not always.
Just those two words at first.
She adds another line beneath them, slower this time.
I wanted somewhere quiet. Somewhere I could be useful without being loud.
Your chest tightens, just a little.
You hadn’t thought of it that way, but now that she’s said it, it fits her perfectly. The way she moves through the school like a steady current, never demanding attention yet somehow holding everything together. The library. The office. The small acts that keep days from unraveling.
“You are useful,” you say without thinking, then soften your tone. “More than you realize.”
She looks at you then, as if checking whether your words are careful or careless. Finding sincerity, her shoulders relax a fraction.
She writes again.
I like helping students. And teachers.
Your breath catches, almost imperceptibly. “I’m glad you’re here,” you admit. “I’d understand if this place would feel… emptier without you.”
Her pen pauses midair.
For a heartbeat, she doesn’t write. She just watches you, expression unreadable but gentle, like she’s memorizing the way your face looks when you’re honest.
When she finally turns the notebook around, the writing is smaller.
I feel the same.
The room seems to grow warmer, the quiet no longer hollow but full. You glance at the remaining pamphlets. There are only a few left now.
“We’re almost done,” you say, though neither of you seems eager for it to end.
She nods and picks up the next paper, but this time her elbow rests a little closer to yours. The shared space feels intentional now.
When the last pamphlet is marked and stacked away, the finality settles in gently. You sit there for a moment, hands resting on the table, listening to the air conditioner hum and the distant sounds of the building winding down for the evening.
Outside, the sky has begun to turn amber.
You clear your throat softly. “It’s getting late. I should probably lock up soon.”
She writes one last thing and slides it toward you.
Did you eat enough?
You laugh under your breath. “Yes,” you say. “Thanks to you.”
She smiles, small but bright, and tucks her notebook away.
As you both stand, your movements mirror each other. You reach for the light switch. She waits by the door, holding it open.
Before you step out, you hesitate and tap her shoulder. “Jiyeon?”
She turns back.
“…Thank you. For staying.”
She meets your gaze, eyes warm, and nods once.
Always.
-
The calendar began to fill itself in without asking.
Flyers appeared on bulletin boards. Whistles started hanging around teachers’ necks. The students grew louder in the weeks leading up to it, energy fizzing under their skin in ways no worksheet could contain.
The sports festival.
It arrived like a collective exhale. A sanctioned pause from memorization and tests, from neat handwriting and quiet classrooms. The kind of day where rules bent just enough to let joy spill through.
The morning of it, the school looked different.
Banners fluttered along the fences, hand-painted and slightly crooked. Cones lined the field in bright colors. The air smelled faintly of grass, sunscreen, and anticipation. Students ran in clusters, jerseys loose on their shoulders, laughter loud and unfiltered.
You stood near the edge of the field with the other teachers, clipboard in hand, scanning your class as they bounced on their feet.
They waved when they saw you.
One of them nearly tripped trying to get your attention.
You laughed before you could stop yourself.
You had once shared the same energetic glee from years past, the same excitement that made them almost bounce in line just to play in the tug of war.
A few steps away, Jiyeon moved through the crowd with the same quiet certainty she always carried, though today she wore a cap low over her hair and a whistle looped around her wrist instead of her neck. Students gravitated toward her instinctively, tugging at her sleeve, signing excitedly, pointing at events already in motion.
She responded to each of them with patient focus, crouching to their level, hands moving with clarity and ease. You watched her for a moment, the way the chaos seemed to organize itself around her presence.
She glanced up.
Caught you looking.
Her eyebrows lifted in mild amusement.
You cleared your throat, pretending to check your clipboard, then looked back just in time to see her smile to herself.
When the first event was announced, the field erupted into noise. Students lined up, teachers took their positions, and the day surged forward with momentum that felt almost contagious.
Your station was near the relay track.
The instructions were simple. Count laps. Keep order. Step in if someone cried or tripped or decided halfway through that running was no longer their life’s calling.
In practice, it was chaos.
Shoelaces came undone. A baton was dropped and kicked halfway across the field. One student burst into tears because their team lost before the race even finished. Another celebrated prematurely, arms thrown into the air while still running in the wrong direction.
You crouched, soothed, redirected. You clapped until your palms stung and shouted encouragement until your voice thinned into something hoarse but earnest.
And in between it all, your eyes kept drifting.
Jiyeon appeared wherever she was needed most. At the tug-of-war ropes, steadying small hands. Near the water station, tapping a shoulder before a student overheated. Along the sidelines, translating rules with quick, expressive movements when confusion flickered across a child’s face.
At one point, a boy from your class ran up to her mid-event, breathless and frantic. You watched from afar as she knelt, tried to piece things together, nodded, then pointed toward you.
He followed her finger.
Straight to you.
He finished his race.
Later, during a brief lull, you found yourself beside her near the equipment shed, both of you stealing a moment of shade.
You held out a spare bottle of water. “You’re everywhere today.”
She accepted it with a nod, took a sip, then wrote on her small notepad, the paper already speckled with grass stains.
Someone has to be.
You smiled. “The kids listen to you more than the whistle.”
She glanced at the whistle looped around her wrist, then back at you, lips curving.
I use it for decoration.
A cheer rose suddenly from the field, loud enough to rattle your chest. Both of you turned at the same time.
Your class had won their heat.
They were jumping, screaming, collapsing into one another in a tangle of limbs and laughter.
You felt something swell in your chest. Pride. Nostalgia. Something gentler layered beneath it.
When you looked back at Jiyeon, she was already watching you.
Not the field.
You.
She caught your gaze and lifted her bottle slightly, a quiet toast.
You mirrored the gesture, heart thudding a little harder than the heat alone could explain.
The festival pressed on, bright and breathless.
And somewhere between the noise and the still moments stolen in passing, you realized this too was becoming part of your life’s memory.
Not just the students.
Not just the school.
Her.
-
The echoes of the festival refused to fade quietly.
Even days later, it lived on in the way students compared scraped knees like medals, in the exaggerated retellings of victories and near disasters, in the way laughter spilled out between lessons before being herded back into rows and rules. The school had returned to its usual rhythm, but something lighter threaded through it now.
Today’s lesson was gentler by design.
The library doors opened with a familiar hush, the scent of old paper and polished wood folding over your class like a blanket. You guided them inside in loose pairs, reminding them to use indoor voices, though their excitement already softened at the sight of shelves stretching taller than them.
“Alright,” you said, clapping once to gather their attention. “We’re looking for stories today. Not just dates.”
You handed out the guide sheets, questions printed neatly at the top. Who lived then. How did they travel. What do you think a day felt like in their shoes.
The students dispersed quickly, drawn to colorful spines and thick volumes alike. Some settled cross-legged on the floor. Others dragged chairs together, whispering as they flipped pages.
You walked between the aisles, answering questions, pointing out sections, kneeling beside a student who struggled with a word too big for their mouth.
From the circulation desk, Jiyeon watched.
She was there to help monitor, a familiar presence behind the counter, glasses perched low on her nose as she sorted returns. Every so often, a student would run up to her, book clutched tightly, hands moving in excited signs as they asked something you couldn’t quite hear or see.
She answered all of them.
With patience. With clarity. With that same calm certainty.
At one point, she caught your eye across the room and held up a book, tapping the cover twice before pointing to one of your guide questions.
You nodded, impressed. “Yes. That one’s perfect.”
She smiled and slid it toward a nearby student, who beamed like they’d been handed treasure.
Jiyeon stole a glance at you before walking to another end of the room where a kid had their hand raised.
You walked in between the aisles, the sound of the student's voices fading in the back. The backs of books met you, some fresh with ink while others were faded in time.
You stopped when one of them was sticking out of the shelf. Pulling it out, you found what it was for.
Basic Sign Language.
You lingered there longer than you meant to.
The book sat heavier in your hands than its size suggested, its cover worn at the edges from use. Someone had written their name on the inside in careful ink, slightly smudged, as if erased and rewritten once before committing.
You flipped it open.
The pages were simple. Diagrams of hands. Arrows showing movement. Short explanations beneath each illustration.
Hello.
Thank you.
Sorry.
Please.
You traced a finger along the margins without thinking, committing shapes to memory in the quiet way you always did when something mattered.
A laugh rose from the other side of the shelves. A student’s, sharp and bright, followed by Jiyeon’s softer response. You couldn’t hear her voice, but you didn’t need to. Her hands spoke for her. Fluid. Intentional. Gentle in a way that made even correction feel kind.
You glanced down again.
Hello.
Your fingers hovered, hesitant, then mirrored the shape in the book. Awkward. Too stiff. You tried again, slower this time, loosening your wrist.
Better.
“Teacher?”
You looked up to find one of your students peeking around the shelf, book hugged to their chest. “Is this one okay? It’s a bit old.”
You smiled. “Old is good. Old means it’s survived.” You crouched to their level and pointed to a section. “See this chapter? That one answers your second question.”
They nodded and scampered off, shoes squeaking softly against the floor.
When you straightened, Jiyeon still stood across the room.
You closed the book gently, fingers still resting on the cover as if it might slip away if you weren’t careful.
“I could use this,” you murmured, barely louder than the turning pages around you.
When you looked up again, she was no longer behind the desk. She stood at the end of the aisle now, a respectful distance away, her gaze flicking from your face to the book in your hands.
She lifted her eyebrows in a silent question.
You lifted it a little, almost sheepish. “I didn’t know we had this.”
Her lips curved, small and genuine. She stepped closer, careful not to disturb the quiet of the space, and gestured toward the shelves around you. Then to herself. Then back to the book.
I donated some.
“That explains why it looks so used,” you said. “In a good way.”
She nodded once.
For a brief moment, neither of you moved. The space between shelves felt narrower than it should have been, filled with the hush of pages and the quiet understanding passing between you.
Then, hesitating, you lifted your hand again.
Hello.
You signed.
Or you tried to, at least.
Jiyeon raised her hand to cover the exhale of laughter to slip out.
She repeated the sign back to you, slower this time, exaggerating the movement just enough for clarity. Her wrist was loose. Her fingers sure. It looked effortless in a way that made you acutely aware of how much thought your own hand had been holding.
Then she gestured to you again.
You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck, and raised your hand once more. You mirrored her this time, letting your wrist relax, letting your fingers follow rather than force the shape.
Hello.
Jiyeon’s smile bloomed instantly. She gave a small nod of approval, then stepped closer, careful and considerate, and gently adjusted the angle of your thumb with two fingers.
Like that, Better.
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I look ridiculous, don’t I?”
She shook her head immediately, almost emphatically.
You nodded, absorbing them the way you always absorbed history, with quiet reverence.
A student darted past the aisle, whispering loudly to a friend before being shushed from across the room. The library breathed on, unaware of the small shift taking place between the shelves.
You glanced down at the book again. “Do you mind if I borrow it? Just for a while.”
Jiyeon’s answer was immediate. She tapped the book once, then pointed to you.
You hesitated. “I don’t want to take something important from you.”
She met your eyes, steady and sincere.
You tucked the book under your arm carefully, like a promise.
She watched you for a second longer than necessary, then nodded.
Across the room, another hand went up. Your name followed, whispered urgently.
Duty called again.
“I should help them,” you said, reluctant despite yourself.
Jiyeon stepped back, already easing out of the moment with practiced grace. Before turning away, she lifted her hand once more.
Hello.
You smiled, lifting yours in return, repeating the sign with a little more confidence this time.
Hello.
She noticed.
The way her eyes softened told you everything.
-
Weeks folded into one another with the quiet patience of routine.
Lessons. Meetings. Hallway greetings that grew easier with time. Somewhere in between, you practiced.
Not diligently enough to call it discipline. Not recklessly enough to call it play. Just enough.
You practiced in the early mornings, before the corridors filled with noise. In the empty classroom while the projector warmed up. In the office after everyone else had left, fingers hovering over your desk, shaping words that felt foreign and familiar all at once.
Hello became muscle memory.
Thank you followed soon after.
Sorry came harder. Please even more so. Your fingers stiffened when emotions tangled with movement, when meaning demanded more than shape.
You practiced without her there.
Not out of fear.
Not out of pride.
But because you wanted the moment to belong to itself.
In the teachers’ lounge, birthdays were spoken about casually, tossed into conversation between sips of coffee and complaints about paperwork.
“Jiyeon’s is coming up next week, right?”
“Yeah. She never makes a fuss.”
“Still, we should do something.”
You listened from across the room, stirring your drink long after the sugar dissolved.
A conversation.
That was all you wanted.
Not a grand gesture. Not applause. Just a few exchanged sentences, shaped with care, offered in a language she lived in every day.
The idea sat with you, equal parts anticipation and quiet terror.
You practiced more carefully after that.
Happy. . .took time.
Birthday. . .longer.
The concept of wishing well, of celebration, felt clumsy in your hands at first. You fumbled. Restarted. Let your fingers drop, frustrated, then lifted them again.
You reminded yourself that children learned like this too. Slowly, with mistakes, with earnestness.
The night before, you barely slept.
Your hands lay folded over your chest, fingers twitching occasionally as if rehearsing even in rest. You stared at the ceiling and wondered if she would laugh. If she would be surprised. If she would gently correct you like she always did, patient and kind.
Morning arrived regardless.
The school buzzed with its usual energy, unaware of the quiet milestone you carried with you. You saw her briefly in the office, focused as ever, a small paper crown taped to the edge of her desk by a student’s careful hands.
She noticed you watching and smiled, that familiar curve that always felt like an invitation.
The other teachers would surprise her later, with a cake and candles, with balloons tied to her table but for now all you had to do was make sure she didn’t grow any suspicions.
You kept your distance that morning.
Not avoidance.
Just restraint.
You greeted her like always, a small nod, a polite smile, nothing that would give you away. She returned it easily, unaware of the careful calculation behind your calm. If she noticed the way you lingered half a second longer than usual, she didn’t comment on it.
The paper crown wobbled carefully every time she moved. A student had drawn stars on it in crayon, uneven yet proud. She kept forgetting it was there until another child pointed and giggled, and she would touch it, embarrassed, then laugh along.
You watched all of this from a safe distance.
Classes passed. And the day unfolded with the unremarkable persistence of routine, but underneath it all, your pulse kept time with something else.
The lunch bell would finally ring.
You stood in the corner of the office, in your cubicle while the others were carefully placing down the numbers on the cake in a way that wouldn’t ruin the writing.
“Mr. Jo, could you call Jiyeon? I think she was in the courtyard.” One of the teachers said,
You hesitated for a moment.
Just long enough to properly understand what they asked you to do.
Then you nodded. “I’ll get her.”
The courtyard was bright with midday sun, the kind that softened edges and made the world feel briefly forgiving. A few students lingered at the far end, finishing lunches under supervision, but Jiyeon stood closer to the building, leaning against the low wall near the garden beds.
She was watching a pair of cats munching over food.
You paused at the doorway, suddenly aware of your hands. Too still. Too ready.
She noticed your reflection in the glass before you spoke. Turned. Smiled.
A question lifted in her eyes.
You raised a hand slightly, gesturing back toward the building. “They’re looking for you,” you said, making sure she could see your mouth clearly. “In the office.”
Her eyebrows knit together in mild confusion, then she nodded, pushing off the wall. She fell into step beside you easily, matching your pace without thinking.
Halfway back, she glanced sideways at you, studying your expression. You kept your face neutral with effort, afraid anything else might spill over.
Inside, the office lights felt warmer than usual.
Too warm.
The moment Jiyeon stepped through the doorway, the room erupted.
“Happy birthday to you—”
The singing was enthusiastic but not coordinated. Someone came in early, someone a little too late. A candle nearly tipped before being rescued at the last second. Jiyeon froze just inside the door, eyes wide, hands lifting instinctively like she didn’t quite know where to put them.
The cake appeared. Chocolate, neatly frosted, her name written carefully across the top. Balloons bobbed against the ceiling, strings tangled together like an afterthought.
She laughed, startled, one hand flying to her mouth.
You stayed where you were.
Watched the surprise unfold.
Watched the way she shook her head in disbelief, then bowed, again and again, signing thank you thank you thank you in quick, overlapping motions that made a few teachers laugh fondly.
When the singing ended and the room settled into chatter, plates were passed around, candles blown out amid applause. Someone pressed a paper plate into Jiyeon’s hands, another draped a ribbon around her wrist like a bracelet.
Eventually, the noise softened.
Conversations split off.
That was when she found you again.
Her gaze cut through the room, deliberate, searching, until it landed on you in the corner near the filing cabinet. She excused herself with a small bow and crossed the space between you.
Up close, her cheeks were still flushed.
Her eyes bright.
She placed a plate over the top of the cabinet, just enough for it to enter your view.
Your eyes turned to her just as she motioned you to eat.
You should have some too.
“Oh, I’m not that into sweets.” You told her, arms crossing against your chest to form an x.
Jiyeon didn’t have that.
She shook her head and carefully picked out a piece of the cake on a fork and offered it.
You opened your mouth to protest again, but the words stalled somewhere behind your teeth.
She was patient.
Annoyingly so.
Her arm didn’t waver. The fork hovered between you, chocolate frosting catching the light. Her eyebrows lifted, not challenging, not teasing. Just expectant. Like this was the most reasonable thing in the world.
You exhaled, surrendering with a quiet laugh. “You’re persistent.”
She smiled, eyes crinkling, and made a small motion with her free hand.
You leaned forward and took the bite.
It was sweeter than you expected but it was soft and rich. You chewed, nodding despite yourself. “Okay,” you admitted. “That’s… good.”
Her smile widened, victorious but gentle. She pulled the fork back, satisfied, then set the plate aside beside you.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
The office buzzed faintly behind you. Someone laughed too loudly. A chair scraped. The world kept going, but here, the air felt suspended.
Then she picked out another piece before offering it to you again.
You took a step back, something in your bag crinkling against the cabinet.
She exhaled, almost into a laugh as she set the plate back down. She pointed at you and back at it,
You better finish that.
You watched her go, the ribbon at her wrist catching the light, the balloon trailing after her like it had chosen her specifically.
You looked down at the plate she’d left behind.
Still half full.
Of course.
You shook your head to yourself, a quiet smile pulling at your mouth as you picked it up. The cake tasted just as good the second time. Maybe better, now that the moment had settled into you, warm and steady.
The rest of lunch passed easily. Laughter ebbed and flowed. Someone started cutting fruit. Another teacher argued lightly about who would wash the plates later. Jiyeon moved through it all with practiced grace, accepting well wishes, returning bows, signing thank you until her wrists must have ached.
Every so often, her eyes found you.
Not lingering. Not obvious.
Just checking.
And each time, you nodded, small and reassuring, like you were both in on something the rest of the room didn’t need to know.
When the bell rang and the office emptied, you almost let yourself slip past her before you could’ve done anything.
You caught up to her at the courtyard, the sunset slipping across the patches of grass and concrete that led the pathway out. She stood out with her balloon still wrapped around her wrist, now with drawings on them from kids that deemed it too plain.
Your steps hurried themselves down the concrete stairs and tapped her shoulder.
Jiyeon turned fully toward you, the balloon bobbing once as the string tugged around her wrist. The drawings were clearer now. Stars. Smiley faces. A misspelled happy brithday looping around the edge in marker. She glanced down at your hand still hovering midair, then back up at your face.
A question settled into her expression.
You inhaled, steadying yourself.
Your hands came up before your voice did.
Happy… birthday.
Slower than you’d practiced. Not perfect. But yours.
Then, after another second, you continued.
I wanted… to tell you properly.
Her eyes widened, just slightly.
You swallowed and went on, fingers careful, deliberate, every movement chosen.
I’m still learning.
I make mistakes.
But I wanted to say it… to you.
The silence stretched, filled only by the distant echo of students leaving, the low hum of the city beyond the gates. The balloon twisted lazily in the breeze.
Jiyeon didn’t interrupt.
She watched your hands like they mattered, like they were worth waiting for.
When you finished, you let them fall, tension rushing back into your shoulders all at once. “I’m sorry if that was clumsy,” you said aloud, habit sneaking in. “I just—”
She lifted her hand.
She signed back, slower than usual. Not because she needed to. Because she wanted you to follow.
Thank you.
For trying.
For me.
Then, softer still.
That means more than perfect words.
Your chest tightened in a way that felt unfamiliar and frightening and warm all at once.
“Wait for a moment.” you said, arms gesturing for her to give you a moment for you to reach into your bag.
You turned as plastic crinkled inside then cursed when you pulled it out. You had meant to hand her a small bouquet of lavenders but throughout the day, they had crinkled within your bag and you wondered if she would have accepted them.
Turning back around slowly, you tried to fix them, make sure the stems stood straight when you heard her softly gasp.
You froze.
Not because of the flowers.
But because of the sound.
It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. Just a small intake of breath, soft and unguarded, the kind people make when something reaches them before they have time to prepare for it.
You looked up.
Jiyeon’s hands were halfway lifted, fingers hovering uncertainly in front of her chest as she stared at the bundle of lavender in your grip. The balloon tugged once at her wrist, forgotten. The sunset caught in her eyes, turning them glassy, bright.
You cleared your throat, suddenly too aware of how rumpled the stems looked, how the petals had pressed in on themselves. “I—” You stopped, then tried again, quieter. “I meant to give these to you earlier. I didn’t think I’d… keep them in my bag all day.”
You held them out anyway.
Not confidently.
Not smoothly.
Just honestly.
“They’re… lavender,” you added, as if she might not know. “I heard you like things that smell calm.”
Her gaze flicked from the flowers to your face. Back to the flowers.
Then she laughed.
Not the polite kind. Not the restrained one she used around crowds. This one slipped out before she could stop it, breathy and disbelieving, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as her shoulders shook once.
She shook her head, eyes shining.
You misread that instantly. “If it’s too much, it’s okay,” you rushed. “I can just—”
She reached out.
Her fingers closed gently around the stems, careful not to crush them further. She held them like they were fragile in a way that mattered, like even bent and imperfect they deserved gentleness.
Then she took a step closer and then another one.
Just enough for you to get a smell of her cologne before her arms slipped in between the spaces of yours.
Jiyeon wrapped them softly across the back of your coat, the bouquet crinkling a little bit more but she didn’t care.
You stiffened for half a second.
Not because you didn’t want it.
Because you hadn’t expected it.
Her embrace was careful at first, like she was asking permission with the space she closed. Then, when you didn’t pull away, when your breath only caught and stayed, she relaxed into it. Her forehead brushed your shoulder. The balloon bumped lightly against your arm, squeaking once before settling.
You could feel her through the layers of fabric. Warmth. A steady heartbeat. The faint trace of her cologne, something clean and soft, like flowers in the sun.
Your hands hovered uselessly at your sides.
Then, slowly, as if afraid the moment might shatter if you moved too fast, you lifted them. One rested at the small of her back. The other curled lightly against her shoulder, fingers threading into the fabric of her coat.
The hug wasn’t tight.
It wasn’t rushed.
She breathed out against you, a long, relieved exhale, and you felt it in your chest more than you heard it.
After a moment, she pulled back just enough to look at you. Not far, just enough that her hands still held onto your coat, knuckles faintly white.
She signed, close this time, so close you had to focus not to miss it.
You didn’t have to do this.
Her eyes softened.
But you did anyway.
You swallowed. “I wanted to,” you said, voice low. Honest. “Not because it was your birthday. Because it was you.”
Her lips parted slightly. The sunset spilled gold across her face, catching on her lashes.
She lifted one hand, hesitated, then brushed her thumb gently against your wrist, right where your pulse jumped.
The last thing you saw was her stepping up with the tips of her shoes before you felt something warm quickly press itself against your cheek.
The moment was quick enough that it’ll pass if you blinked but for once, you felt the world slow down a fraction
Once she had landed on her soles, her eyes had widened as if she herself had no clue about what she had just done. She blinked, breath getting heavy before she slipped out of your grasp and continued down the pathway leaving you confused.
Stumped.
Utterly breathless.
You didn’t move right away.
Not because you couldn’t.
Because your body hadn’t caught up to what just happened.
Your cheek still felt warm. Not flushed, not burning. Like the memory of her lingered in the air and your skin had decided to keep it for itself.
You stood at the edge of the courtyard, lavender crushed gently between your fingers, balloon string still faintly brushing your sleeve where it had bumped you moments earlier. The sunset had slipped lower now, colors deepening, shadows stretching long across the concrete.
She was already several steps ahead.
Walking too fast.
You noticed that before anything else. The way her steps were longer than usual, uneven, like she’d forgotten how long her legs were supposed to move. One hand clutched the flowers close to her chest. The other fumbled briefly with the balloon string, wrapping it tighter around her wrist as if anchoring herself.
Her shoulders were stiff.
Jiyeon didn’t look back.
You opened your mouth.
Nothing came out.
Your breath finally found you again in a shaky exhale, chest rising too fast, heart thudding like it had missed a step and was scrambling to catch up. You lifted a hand, then let it fall, fingers curling into your palm.
She kissed your cheek.
The realization landed fully now, slow and heavy and unreal.
It wasn’t an accident.
Not really.
Too deliberate for that.
Too careful.
She had chosen that moment.
Chosen you.
And then, just as suddenly, she had fled from her own courage.
You took a step forward.
Then another.
“Jiyeon,” you called, voice softer than you meant it to be.
Then you ran towards her.
“Jiyeon-ah, wait for me!”
-
Ever since then, she started to work closer to you.
Not like anything was set in stone or was anything official.
The change was subtle at first, a gentle shift that didn’t demand attention but couldn’t be ignored either.
She claimed the empty desk next to yours one morning, placing her things carefully, almost ceremoniously, as if marking territory without words.
When you walked into the office later that day, she looked up briefly, gave a small nod, and returned to whatever work she had spread across the desk. You found yourself lingering just a fraction longer at the doorway, caught in the quiet rhythm of her being there. It wasn’t intrusive. It wasn’t dramatic. It was comfortable, in the same way sunlight spills through a window and warms the floor without permission.
In the library, it was the same. You noticed her sliding into a chair nearby, a stack of books forming a quiet barrier that invited proximity without imposing it. She would glance at your work, sometimes offering a wordless thumbs-up or a small smile when you caught her looking. The students seemed oblivious, but you felt the difference immediately. Her presence shaped the space around you, shaping it in a way that made the mundane feel lighter, easier.
Even in class, she would appear in the back row, at the edge of the room or by the side of the door, quietly observing, grading, or taking notes, but you knew better. Her eyes tracked your movements, catching the small gestures you made, the way your hands moved across the board, the pauses when you collected your thoughts. It was never obtrusive, never distracting.
One time, you caught some students at the back row of the class giggling at something.
When you asked them what they were laughing at, they pointed to the woman sitting beside the door.
Your gaze followed and saw Jiyeon sitting still with her eyes closed yet her head looked like it could topple at any moment as it slowly swayed to each side.
You didn’t wake her up, didn’t tell off the boys but you simply took off your coat and walked over before carefully draping it over her.
She blinked, a little slowly at first, as if trying to reconcile the warmth across her chest. Then her lips curved, subtle, almost imperceptible at first, but it carried a softness that made the corners of your chest ache. She didn’t reach for the coat, didn’t even shift, she just stayed there, letting the gesture linger.
For a moment, the class was just background noise, a dull hum behind the delicate exchange of glances. You kept your posture steady at the front, hands folded lightly over the desk, but every few seconds your eyes flicked back, drawn like gravity to her quiet repose.
Finally, she opened her eyes fully, looking directly at you, the faintest tilt of her head acknowledging the care you’d given. Her fingers flexed against the edge of her desk, hesitant, as if weighing the right way to respond without breaking the moment.
Then she signed. Slowly, deliberately, the way she had taught you.
Thank… you.
You felt it in your chest before your eyes, warmth, weight, and recognition all at once.
You nodded once, almost imperceptibly, a silent acknowledgment that your attention was hers whenever she needed it. She smiled then, softly, her shoulders relaxing slightly under the coat, and for the rest of the lesson, your eyes found her repeatedly, not to check, not to command, but just to exist in the same quiet orbit.
When class ended and the office emptied, she had stayed behind waiting until you walked out of the room.
She fell into step beside you without a word, her presence settling in alongside yours like another layer of the quiet afternoon. The hallways were mostly empty, the echoes of departing students fading into the soft hum of fluorescent lights and distant footsteps.
You kept your pace measured, neither quickening nor slowing, letting the space between you feel natural, unforced. Her hand brushed briefly against your arm as you passed a classroom door, a fleeting contact that made your pulse hitch, though neither of you flinched.
Then you felt her hold onto you, finally.
When you felt her hand fit into place with yours, you stopped.
She didn’t pull back. She let her fingers curl around yours, light but deliberate. The space around you seemed to contract, the distant hum of the school fading until all you could feel was the gentle pressure of her hand and the steady warmth of her presence beside you.
You tilted your head slightly, as if asking permission without words. She answered with a subtle squeeze, patient and knowing, letting you know she was here, fully, without needing anything else.
For a moment, neither of you moved. The hallway stretched on, empty and forgiving, and the simple act of holding hands carried more weight than anything that had happened before. Your chest tightened, warmth pooling low and steady, a quiet echo of the trust and care that had built between you over weeks, over small gestures, over moments like this.
Finally, you exhaled, slow and measured, letting yourself settle into the rhythm of her presence. You took a careful step forward, and she matched it, and then another, until you were walking side by side, hand in hand, carrying the unspoken understanding between you like something fragile and precious,
MALE READER x LYNN (TRIPLES) | ~5,800 WORDS | ※ CH-11 ❤︎ CH-12 →
The MODHAUS building buzzed different tonight.
You'd almost forgotten what it felt like. A company riding high. New subunit locked in, names finalized, and someone had decided that warranted a celebration. Drinks. Food. The usual excuse for everyone to decompress.
You weren't supposed to be here.
Three months since you'd stepped back from direct ARTMS management. Three months building your own thing—the agency, the connections, the slow accumulation of something that was yours. But Jinsoul had texted. Choerry had called. And now here you were, walking through doors that used to feel like home.
"There he is." Heejin spotted you first, breaking away from a cluster of staff to grab your arm. "Told them you'd come."
"You didn't give me much choice."
"That's because you would've said no." She pulled you deeper into the room. "Come on. There's some people dying to meet you."
The tripleS members had taken over one corner of the venue. A sea of faces you half-recognized from passing them in hallways months ago. They're established now. Debuted. Become a force to be reckoned with in the industry. A dark horse for girl groups right now.
"Everyone, this is him," Heejin announced. Two dozen eyes. "The one we can't stop talking about."
Introductions blurred together. You were tired. Eighteen-hour days, not enough sleep, social battery on fumes before you'd even arrived. The CTDENM contract negotiations were entering their final stages. You'd spent the last week buried in paperwork and phone calls.
But you noticed things. Always did.
Nakyoung held your hand a beat too long when she shook it. Eyes searching your face like she was cataloging something. "Heejin-unnie talks about you. A lot."
Yubin watched from just behind her. Knowing smile playing at her lips. Didn't say anything. Didn't have to.
Dahyun caught you alone near the drinks table. Main vocalist. Powerful presence even standing still.
"What you did for the ARTMS members." Quiet. "We noticed. All of us."
Gone before you could respond.
Kotone and Mayu approached together—the Japanese line flanking you with matching smiles that felt coordinated. "Will we see you around more?" Mayu asked. Nothing innocent about it.
Kaede complimented your work, then added: "Maybe we'll work together someday." Smile lingering.
Sohyun flushed pink when your name came up. Caught her looking away too quickly.
Nien didn't say much at all. Just watched. Every time you glanced her direction, already looking.
And Xinyu—tall, striking, impossible to miss—positioned herself nearby without ever directly engaging. Listening. When you caught her eye, she held it until you broke first.
Then there was Yooyeon.
The leader. She stayed at the edges, nursing a drink she barely touched. You felt her attention like a physical weight. Every time you moved through the room, her gaze tracked you. But she never approached. Never joined.
"Yooyeon-unnie doesn't look at anyone like that," someone said beside you.
You turned. A girl you hadn't been introduced to yet—tall for an idol, sharp features, uncertain expression. Watching Yooyeon watch you.
"I'm sorry?"
"Nothing." Shook her head. Strand of dark hair falling across her face. "I'm Lynn."
"The main dancer." It came out before you could stop it. "Company picked you for the new unit before voting even started."
Her eyes widened. "You know that?"
"It was my job to know everything happening within the company. Before."
Something shifted in her expression. Not quite a smile, but close.
"Congratulations," you added. "They picked you for a reason."
"Thank you." Ducking her head. Almost shy. Then quieter: "I've seen you before. Around the building. Back when you were still..."
"Still here?"
"Still busy." Small smile. "You always looked busy."
Tired laugh. "I was."
"You still are." She glanced at your phone—you'd checked it three times in the last minute. Hadn't even noticed. "You look like you haven't slept in a week."
"That obvious?"
"Heh." A small sound, almost a laugh. "Little bit."
Yubin appeared at Lynn's shoulder. Whispered something that made color rise in Lynn's cheeks. Vanished back into the crowd with a grin.
"I should—" Lynn started.
"Yeah." You nodded. "Nice meeting you."
She nodded back. But didn't move.
Neither did you.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
You slipped out through the side door. The balcony air hit you—warm, thick with July humidity, but at least quiet. You exhaled hard, rubbing a hand over your face.
"God, that was a lot."
Leaning against the railing. The party sounds muffled through the glass—too many voices, too many people wanting pieces of you that you didn't have left to give. Your shoulders dropped as the tension started to drain.
Door opened behind you.
"You probably don't remember," Lynn said, "but we almost met once before."
You turned. She was holding two drinks. Offering one like a peace offering.
"When?"
"December." She moved to stand beside you, leaving careful distance. "You were in the studio with the ARTMS members. Recording something for a holiday release. I was practicing in the room next door."
December had been chaos. First holiday content with all five members. Emotions running high. Everyone still raw.
"I don't—"
"You wouldn't." Sip of her drink. "I was just a trainee. But I watched through the window. The way you handled everything. The way you talked to them." Pause. "You were kind. Even when things were hard."
"I was doing my job."
"No." She turned to face you fully. "I've seen people do their jobs. People going through the motions, checking boxes. That wasn't the same. You actually cared."
Silence. Party sounds filtering through glass—muffled laughter, music, clinking glasses.
"Nakyoung-unnie asks about you," Lynn said. "More than she probably should."
You looked at her. "Does she?"
"And Yubin told me I should talk to you tonight. Said I'd regret it if I didn't." Fingers tightening around her glass. "The Japanese members... we talk. Your name comes up."
"Lynn—"
"I'm not saying this right." She set her drink on the railing. Turned to face you fully. The uncertainty still there, but underneath—steel. "I've wanted to talk to you for a long time. Not about work. Not about the industry. Just... you."
Exhaustion made you slow. "You want career advice? I can connect you with—"
"That's not what I mean."
Words hanging there.
You looked at her. Really looked. Standing on a balcony telling you she'd been watching for a long time.
"You don't know me," you said.
"I know enough." No waver. "I know you stayed late when you didn't have to. I know you learned everyone's coffee orders. I know you cried in the parking garage after Haseul-unnie's contract went through, and you thought no one saw, but Kotone did. She told the rest of us."
You didn't have a response to that.
"I know this is strange," Lynn continued. "And I know you're tired—I can see it. But I've spent so long watching you from across rooms and telling myself next time and not yet and he's too busy." Swallow. "I didn't want to wait anymore."
Party noise swelling as someone opened the door inside. Fading again.
"What do you want?" you asked.
"I don't know." Honest. Disarming. "Something. Anything. Just... not nothing."
Phone buzzing in your pocket. Ignored.
"I should go home," you said.
Her face fell. Just for a moment. Quickly controlled.
"Do you want to come with me?"
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Quiet drive.
Too quiet. It was already hard enough finding common ground with twelve girls—having to learn what topics to talk about with twenty-four more scared the hell out of you. So for now, you'd let her lead.
Lynn in your passenger seat. Hands folded in her lap. City lights smearing past the windows. She'd texted someone before leaving—Kotone, probably, or Yubin—and whoever it was had responded with emojis you couldn't read from the driver's seat.
"Nakyoung-unnie is going to figure it out," she said softly. "She's weird like that."
"Is that a problem?"
"No." Pause. "I don't think so."
Your building rose ahead. Glass and steel against night sky. The penthouse still didn't quite feel like yours.
Quiet in the elevator. Quiet in the hallway. But when you opened the door and she stepped inside—breath catching.
"This is..."
"Too much. I know."
"I was going to say impressive." Moving through the entryway. Floor-to-ceiling windows, city glittering beyond. "But also too much. Yes."
You watched her explore. Stop at the kitchen island where a cardigan draped over one stool. Not yours. Notice the extra toothbrushes visible through the bathroom door. Hair ties on the coffee table. Throw blanket that clearly wasn't purchased by a man.
"Do you..." Turning back. "Do you live with someone?"
Could have lied. Didn't.
"It's complicated."
"That's not really an answer."
"No. It's not."
She was quiet while you poured water for both of you. Accepting the glass. Sip without really drinking. Setting it down.
"How many?"
The directness surprising you.
"Enough that I shouldn't have brought you here."
"But you did."
"I did."
Looking around again. The evidence everywhere—feminine touches, signs of lives intertwined. When her eyes came back, they weren't accusing. Just clear.
"I'm not asking you to explain," she said. "I'm not asking for anything you can't give. I just wanted..." Trailing off. Soft laugh. "I don't know what I wanted. To stop wondering, maybe. To know what it would feel like."
"What what would feel like?"
"Being close to you." Simple. Honest. "Even just once."
Crossing the space between you. Slowly enough that you could have stopped her.
You didn't.
Hand coming up to rest on your chest. Light. Tentative. Checking that you were real. Slight tremor in her fingers. Barely-contained nervousness underneath all that bravery.
"You're shaking," you said.
"I know." Hand not moving. "I've never done anything like this before."
"Lynn—"
"Please don't tell me to go." Voice quiet. "I'll go if you want me to. But please don't tell me it's for my own good."
You looked at her. Building you up in her head into more than you probably were. Standing in your penthouse surrounded by evidence of complications she didn't fully understand. Still here. Still choosing this.
"I'm not going to tell you to go," you said.
Exhale shuddering out of her. Relief. Want. Something almost fragile in the way she looked at you.
You cupped her face in your hands. Watched her eyes flutter closed. Felt her lean into the touch like she'd been starving for it.
"We don't have to—"
"I want to." Eyes opening. Dark and certain. "I want to."
So you kissed her.
Taste of the drink she'd barely touched. Lips soft, hesitant at first, then pressing harder as she figured out what she wanted. Hands fisting in your shirt. Pulling you closer. The shift—nervous stopping, hungry starting.
"Bedroom," she breathed.
Walking her backward down the hall. She stumbled once. You caught her. Laugh—bright, surprised—before pulling you back into the kiss. Fingers finding your buttons. Working them open.
You caught her wrists. Stopped her.
"Leave it," you said.
Blink. "What?"
"The shirt. Leave it on."
Confusion. Then understanding. Heat spreading up her neck.
"Oh," she breathed.
Into the bedroom. City lights filtering through windows, everything in shades of blue and gold. And against the far wall—the floor-length mirror.
Cardigan first. Then top. Unhooking her bra while she stood frozen, watching your hands in the reflection. Fabric falling. Small sound—not quite embarrassment, not quite excitement.
"Keep going," you said.
Skirt. Underwear. Each piece dropping until she was bare and you were still fully clothed. The contrast exactly what you wanted.
"Turn around."
She did. Faced the mirror. You stepped behind her. Shiver when your clothed chest pressed against her naked back.
"Look," you murmured against her ear.
Already looking. Couldn't stop. At herself—bare, vulnerable, exposed. At you behind her—shirt buttoned, pants on, in control.
"Your hands," she whispered.
You'd placed them on her waist. Spanning nearly the entire width. Fingers almost meeting at her navel.
"What about them?"
"They're so..." Swallowing. "Big. I feel—"
"Feel what?"
Shaky breath. "Like you could wrap all the way around me."
"I could." Sliding one hand up her stomach. Watching in the mirror as it traveled between her breasts, over her collarbone, resting lightly against her throat. Covering it almost entirely. Pulse hammering against your palm. "Look at how much of you fits in my hands. Look how easy it is to hold you."
"Oh god—"
"You like that? Being held like this?"
"Yes—" Barely a whisper. "I didn't know I—yes."
The other hand sliding down. Over her hip. Along the outside of her thigh. She trembled.
"Tell me what you've thought about," you said. "All those months watching me. What did you imagine?"
"I—I can't—"
"You can." Fingers tracing the crease where her thigh met her hip. So close to where she needed you. "Tell me."
"I thought about—" Voice breaking. "About you noticing me. Looking at me the way you looked at them."
"The ARTMS members?"
Nod. Shame coloring her cheeks. "I watched you with them. The way you touched Heejin's shoulder when she was stressed. The way you held Choerry when she cried. I wanted—" Swallowing. "I wanted you to touch me like that."
"Like this?" Hand finally cupping between her thighs. Wet. So wet already.
"Yes—" Hips jerking forward. "Please—"
"Please what?"
"Touch me. Please touch me, I've wanted it for so long—"
One finger sliding through her folds. Not inside yet. Just exploring. She whimpered.
"You're soaked," you observed. "Is this all from thinking about me?"
"Yes—" No hesitation. "I get wet every time I see you. Every time someone mentions your name. I can't help it—"
"Fuck." The admission hitting you harder than expected. "All this time?"
"All this time." Her hips grinding against your hand. "Please, baby, I need more—"
"Baby." Repeating it back. "You keep calling me that."
"Sorry, I—"
"Don't be sorry. I like it." Finger finding her entrance. Pressing in slowly. "Say it again."
"Baby—" Crying out as you pushed deeper. "Oh fuck, baby, yes—"
"Good girl."
The sound she made at those two words—guttural, desperate, almost wounded.
"You like that," you observed. "Being told you're good."
"I—" Couldn't finish. Just nodded. Eyes still locked on the mirror, watching your hand move between her thighs.
"Look at yourself." Adding a second finger. "Look how well you're taking me. Look how pretty you are like this."
"I'm going to—already, I'm going to—"
"Already?" Not stopping. Curling your fingers. Finding the spot that made her knees buckle. "That's okay. You've been waiting so long. Let go. Show me what you look like when you come."
"I can't—not yet—I want it to last—"
"There'll be more." Thumb finding her clit. "Give me this one first. Come for me, Lynn. Be a good girl and come."
She shattered.
Whole body seizing. Back arching against your chest. Sound tearing out of her throat—high, broken, surprised. Like she hadn't expected it to feel like this. Working her through it. Watching her face in the mirror—mouth slack, eyes rolling back, the quiet girl from the party gone completely.
"That's it," you murmured. "There you go. So fucking beautiful when you come."
Shaking subsiding. But you didn't stop.
"Wait—" Grabbing your wrist. "Wait, I need—"
"Need what?"
"A minute. I need a minute, it's too much, I'm too sensitive—"
"Too sensitive?" Slowing but not stopping. "Or just sensitive enough?"
"I can't—it's—oh god—"
"You can." Fingers still moving, gentler now but persistent. "You're doing so well. Such a good girl. Can you give me another one?"
"I don't know—"
"Try for me." Kiss to her neck. "Just try."
Second orgasm building faster than the first. Sensitive now—every touch amplified, every stroke pulling sounds she couldn't control.
"It's too much—" Gasping. "I can't again, it's—"
"You can." Pressing deeper. "One more. You can give me one more."
"I'm going to scream—"
"Then scream." Thumb circling her clit faster. "No one can hear you here."
She screamed.
Third orgasm crashing through her before the second had fully ended. Legs giving out completely. Caught her around the waist. Held her up while she sobbed through it—actual sobs, tears streaming down her face, body wracked with waves of pleasure she couldn't process.
"That's it. There she is. So fucking good for me."
"Please—" Broken. "Please, I can't, I need—"
"What do you need?"
"You." Turning in your arms. Clutching at your shirt. Still buttoned. Still between you. "I need you inside me. Please, baby. I need to feel you."
The word slipping out. Her eyes widening slightly—surprised at herself.
You walked her to the bed. Laid her down. Standing over her. The visual—naked and spent, you still clothed—making her breath catch again.
"You still have your clothes on," she said.
"I know."
"That's not fair."
"No." Unbuckling belt. Unzipping. Freeing yourself but not undressing further. "It's not."
Eyes dropping. Widening.
"Oh," she said. Then smaller: "Oh."
"Scared?"
"No." Quick head shake. But her eyes didn't leave it. "Just... I've never seen one that..."
"That what?"
"That big." Cheeks flushing. "Is it—will it fit?"
"We'll make it fit." Moving closer to the bed. "If you still want this."
"I want it." No hesitation now. "I want to feel all of it. Everywhere."
That last word hung there.
"Everywhere?"
Swallowing. Nodding. "I want to know what it feels like. Against me. On me. In me." Sitting up slightly. Reaching for you. "I've thought about it. A lot."
"Tell me." Letting her wrap her fingers around you. Watching her face as she felt the weight. "Tell me what you thought about."
"I thought about—" Stroking slowly. Learning the shape of you. "About what it would look like. How heavy it would feel. Whether I could take it all."
"And?"
"I wasn't sure." Small laugh, almost shy. "I'm still not sure. But I want to try."
Something shifted in you. The exhaustion from before—eighteen-hour days, contracts, phone calls—all of it suddenly needed somewhere to go. And she was offering.
"Lie back."
She did. Letting go reluctantly. Watching you with wide eyes as you moved over her. Straddling her stomach. The weight of you resting against her skin, hard and heavy.
"God." Staring down at where you lay against her. "It reaches past my belly button."
"Here first." Sliding up. Settling the length of you against the soft valley between her breasts. "Push them together."
Hands coming up. Pressing her breasts around you. Small gasp at the sensation—your heat against her skin, the way you filled the space she'd created.
"Like this?"
"Just like that." Starting to move. Slow thrusts between the soft pressure of her chest. "Fuck, that's good."
"Yeah?" Watching you fuck her tits with something like wonder. "You like my breasts?"
"I like everything about you." Thrusting deeper. The head of your cock appearing above her cleavage with each stroke. "Open your mouth."
She did. Tongue out. Catching the tip each time it pushed through. Eyes locked on yours.
"Such a good girl." Groaning. "Letting me use you like this."
"I want you to use me." Pressing her breasts tighter together. "Use all of me. Please."
Sliding higher. Tracing your cock along her collarbone, her throat, watching her breath catch. Up to her face. Resting against her cheek. She turned into it instinctively—nuzzling, pressing kisses along the length.
"You look so pretty like this," you said. "With my cock on your face."
"I feel pretty." Kissing the tip. "I feel like yours."
"You are mine. Tonight, you're mine."
"Yes." Eyes fluttering closed. "I'm yours. Do whatever you want to me."
Pulling back before you lost control. Down her body. Finding the soft crease where her arm met her torso. Sliding into the warmth there.
"What—" Eyes opening. "Oh. I didn't know you could—"
"Arm down." She pressed her arm against her side, creating a tight channel. You fucked into it slowly. "There you go. Feel that?"
"It's... it's warm. You're so hard—"
"Because of you." Moving to the other side. Same thing. "Every inch of you makes me harder."
"I want—" Squirming beneath you. "Please, I need—"
Lower. Between her thighs—not inside, just the soft heat of her inner thighs pressing together around you. Slick from before, coating you. She moaned.
"Press your legs together."
She did. Tight. You thrust between them, the underside of your cock sliding against her pussy with every stroke. Her clit catching friction. She gasped.
"Oh fuck—that's—I can feel you against my—"
"I know." Thrusting faster. "You're so wet. Soaking my cock and I'm not even inside you yet."
"Please—" Hips lifting, trying to angle you inside. "Please, baby, stop teasing, I need you—"
"Need me where?"
"Inside me." Desperate now. "I need you inside me, please, I can't wait anymore—"
"Say it again."
"Please fuck me." Grabbing your hips, trying to pull you closer. "Please, I've been waiting so long, I need your cock inside me, please—"
Enough.
Something in you snapped. Weeks of stress, sleepless nights, the constant pressure of building something from nothing—all of it needed release. And she was here. Willing. Begging.
You pulled back. Lined up. Pushed in.
Not slow this time.
Her scream filling the room. Back arching off the bed. Hands flying to your shoulders, nails digging through the fabric of your shirt. Tight—impossibly tight—but you didn't stop. Didn't wait. Buried yourself to the hilt in one thrust.
"Fuck—" Gasping. "Oh god, you're so deep—I can feel you in my stomach—"
"Too much?"
"No—" Eyes rolling back. "No, don't stop, please don't stop, it's so good—"
"You take it so well." Starting to move. Not gentle. Not careful. "Such a good little pussy. So fucking tight."
"Yes—" Moaning with every thrust. "Yes, fuck me, use me—"
Using her. Finally letting yourself take what you needed instead of giving. Every thrust a release of tension you'd been carrying for weeks. She was just a body beneath you—warm, willing, desperate for whatever you'd give her.
"Harder," she gasped. "Please—harder—I can take it—"
Harder.
The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Her moans turning to screams. Tears streaming down her face again—not pain, overwhelm.
"Look at you." Gripping her hips. Pulling her onto you with every thrust. "Look at you taking my cock. The quiet girl from the party. Screaming for it now."
"I can't help it—" Sobbing. "It's so good, you're so deep, I've never felt—"
"Never felt what?"
"This full." Legs wrapping around you. Pulling you deeper. "I've never felt this full. Like you're splitting me open."
"You like being split open?"
"Yes—" No hesitation. "Yes, I love it, I love your cock, please don't stop—"
Faster. Her body bouncing beneath you with every thrust. Breasts moving with the force of it. You could feel her clenching around you—another orgasm building.
"You're going to come again," you observed. "On my cock this time."
"I can't help it—" Crying. "Every time you push in, I feel it—"
"Then come. Come on my cock like a good girl."
She shattered. Screaming your name—actually screaming it, loud enough that if anyone was nearby they'd definitely hear. Clenching so tight around you it almost hurt. You fucked her through it. Didn't slow down.
"That's one." Still thrusting. "Give me another."
"I can't—it's too much—"
"You can." Angling deeper. Hitting the spot that made her eyes roll back. "You're going to come until I'm done with you."
"Oh god—"
Another orgasm. Then another. She lost count. You didn't. Four. Five. Each one making her tighter, wetter, more desperate. By the sixth she was barely coherent—just moaning, crying, clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.
"I'm going to come inside you," you warned. Feeling it building. Close now. "Fill this tight little pussy up. You want that?"
"Yes—" Almost incoherent. "Please, baby, come inside me, I want to feel it—"
"Want to feel what?"
"Your cum." Eyes finding yours somehow. "I want to feel you cum inside me. Please. I've been dreaming about it. Fill me up. Make me yours."
"Fuck—" Close. So close. "Say it again."
"Come inside me." Pulling you deeper with her legs. "Give it to me. I want every drop. I want to feel it dripping out of me tomorrow. Please, baby, please—"
Gone.
Slamming deep one final time. Burying yourself to the hilt and staying there while you pulsed inside her. Filling her up. Feeling her clench around you in response—another orgasm, triggered by the sensation of being flooded. Wave after wave, and she took all of it. Moaning with each spurt.
"Yes—" Gasping. "Oh god, I can feel it, you're coming so much—"
"Take it all." Grinding deeper. "Every fucking drop."
"I am—I am—oh god—"
Collapsed over her. Breathing hard. Heart pounding. The stress you'd been carrying for weeks—finally gone. Drained into this girl who'd been watching you from across rooms for longer than you knew.
She was shaking beneath you. Crying again. Arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, face pressed into your neck. Still clenching around you in aftershocks.
"Don't pull out yet," she whispered. "Please. I want to feel you. Just a little longer."
Stayed.
Minutes passing. Still inside her. Softening slowly but not leaving. Her fingers tracing patterns on your back through your shirt.
"That was..." She couldn't finish.
"Yeah."
"You really needed that."
Tired laugh. "I really did."
"Good." Small kiss pressed to your shoulder. "I'm glad it was me."
When you finally pulled out—whimper at the loss. Feeling you drip out of her. Her hand moving down to touch, to feel, to keep it inside a little longer.
"Stay," she whispered. "Just for a minute. Stay close."
Stayed.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
An hour later. Still curled against you.
Your shirt finally off. She was lying half on top of you, scrolling through her phone with one hand while the other traced idle patterns on your chest. You were doing the same—emails you should answer, messages you'd deal with tomorrow.
"Yubin wants to know if I'm dead," she said.
"What are you telling her?"
"That I'm fine and she needs to mind her business." Typing. "She's not going to believe me."
"Probably not."
Comfortable silence. Didn't need filling.
She put her phone down. Looked up at you.
"I can't believe that actually worked," she said.
"What worked?"
"Walking up to you. Saying all that stuff." Small laugh, almost embarrassed. "I had like three different versions planned in my head and none of them sounded that desperate."
"You didn't sound desperate."
"I definitely sounded desperate." She poked your chest. "You were just too tired to notice."
"Maybe."
More silence. She shifted closer, chin resting on her hand.
"The others," she said. "The ones who leave stuff here."
"What about them?"
"Nothing." Pause. "Just... whatever you're doing. The company, the work, all of it. It seems like a lot."
"It is."
"But you're doing it anyway."
"Yeah."
She didn't push. Just nodded, like that was enough of an answer.
"I should go," she said eventually. Not moving.
"I'll drive you back."
She blinked. "You don't have to—"
"It's late. And you're probably not supposed to be wandering Seoul at this hour."
Soft laugh. "Probably not."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
She dressed slowly. You watched—the reverse of earlier. Underwear, skirt, bra, top. She caught you looking and rolled her eyes.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Look at me like that. I'll never leave."
The drive back was quieter than the drive there. Different kind of quiet—satisfied instead of nervous. She gave directions in fragments, and you followed them through streets that were emptying as the night wore on.
The dorm building appeared sooner than expected. You pulled to the curb. Killed the engine.
"Thanks," she said. "For the ride. And for... you know."
"Yeah."
She reached for the door handle. Stopped. Turned back.
"This is probably the only time this happens, isn't it?"
You didn't answer. Didn't have to.
"Okay." Small nod. Processing. "Okay, that's—I knew that. I just..."
She moved before you could respond. Leaning across the center console, mouth finding yours. Different than before—not nervous, not tentative. Hungry in a way that felt like goodbye.
When she pulled back, her eyes were bright.
"One more thing," she said. "Can I—" Swallowing. "Can I feel you again? Just once more. Before I go back and pretend this didn't happen."
"Lynn—"
"I know I might not get another chance." Words tumbling out. "And I just want to remember what it felt like. In my mouth. Please, baby. Let me taste you one more time."
The word again. Baby. Like she couldn't help it.
You should have said no. Should have told her to go inside, get some sleep, forget this ever happened.
Instead, you leaned your seat back.
Her eyes lit up. She was moving before you could change your mind—awkward in the confined space, but determined. Unbuckling your belt. Unzipping. Freeing you with hands that weren't shaking anymore.
"God," she breathed. Wrapping her fingers around you. Stroking slowly. "You're already getting hard again."
"Because of you."
"I did that?" Small smile. Almost proud. "Just from asking?"
"Just from asking."
She leaned down. Pressed a kiss to the tip. Gentle. Almost reverent.
"I've been thinking about this since the party," she admitted. Tongue darting out. Licking a slow stripe up the underside. "About what you'd taste like. What you'd feel like in my mouth."
"And?"
"Better than I imagined." Another lick. "So much better."
Taking you into her mouth properly now. Slow at first. Savoring. Eyes fluttering closed like she was trying to memorize the sensation.
"Fuck—" Hand finding her hair. Not guiding, just holding. "That's good. Just like that."
She hummed around you. The vibration making you twitch.
"You like my mouth?" Pulling back just enough to speak. Lips still brushing the head. "Is it good?"
"It's perfect."
"Tell me what you want." Stroking the shaft while she talked. "Tell me how to make you feel good."
"Deeper." You said. "Take more of me."
She did. Eyes watering as she pushed herself further down. Gagging slightly but not stopping. Determined.
"Good girl." Groaning. "Such a good fucking girl."
Pulling back. Gasping. Spit connecting her lips to your cock.
"I want to make you come," she said. "I want to taste it. I've been thinking about it all night—what your cum would taste like. Whether I could swallow all of it."
"You want to find out?"
"Please." Stroking faster. "Please, baby, let me make you come. Use my mouth. Fuck my face. Whatever you want. Just please let me have it."
Back down. No hesitation this time. Taking you deep—deeper than before, throat working around you. Sloppy sounds filling the car. Wet, obscene, desperate.
She moaned around you. Actually moaned, like having your cock in her throat was giving her pleasure. Hand dropping between her own legs.
"Are you touching yourself?" You asked.
She nodded without pulling off. Eyes finding yours in the dim light. Pleading.
"You're getting off on this? On sucking my cock in a car outside your dorm?"
Another nod. More desperate this time. She was fucking her own fingers while she worked you deeper.
"Dirty girl." Gripping her hair tighter. "What would your groupmates think if they saw you right now? On your knees, choking on cock, fingering yourself like a slut?"
She whimpered. The degradation making her work harder. Faster. Sloppier. Drool running down her chin, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.
"You love this," you observed. "You love being used. Being dirty. Having a cock so far down your throat you can't breathe."
Pulling off just long enough to gasp: "Yes—yes, I love it, I love your cock, please don't stop—"
"Then earn it." Pushing her head back down. "Make me come. Show me what that pretty mouth can do."
She went feral.
No more teasing. No more savoring. Just wet, desperate sucking. Taking you as deep as she could with every stroke. Gagging, choking, not caring. Hand moving frantically between her legs. She was close—you could tell by the way her rhythm faltered, the way her moans pitched higher.
"I want you to come when I do," you told her. "Can you do that? Come with my cock in your mouth?"
She nodded desperately. Eyes pleading. So close.
"I'm almost there—" Grip tightening in her hair. "Fuck, Lynn, I'm going to come—"
She took you deep one final time. Held you in her throat. Swallowing around you as you started to pulse.
First spurt hit the back of her throat and she moaned—actually moaned—coming apart on her own fingers at the exact same moment. Swallowing convulsively. Taking everything you gave her. Wave after wave. Her orgasm making her throat clench around you, milking you dry.
When she finally pulled off, she was a mess.
Mascara running. Drool on her chin. Lips swollen and red. Eyes glazed. The biggest smile you'd ever seen.
"Heh." That small sound again. Voice wrecked. "I came twice."
"I noticed."
"From sucking your cock." Almost laughing now. "I came twice from sucking your cock. I didn't even know I could do that."
"You're full of surprises."
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Licked her fingers clean. Made a show of it.
"You taste good," she said. "I want you to know that. In case you were wondering. You taste really, really good."
"I wasn't wondering."
"Well, now you know." Tucking you back into your pants with careful hands. "Something to remember me by."
She checked her reflection in the visor mirror. Grimaced at what she saw. Tried to fix her makeup with shaking fingers.
"I look like I just sucked someone off in a car."
"You did just suck someone off in a car."
"Heh." That sound again. "Yeah. I did."
She gave up on her makeup. Smoothed down her hair instead. Took a deep breath.
"Okay." Another breath. "Okay. I'm going."
"Take care of yourself."
"Yeah." Hand on the door. "You too."
She looked like she wanted to say something else. Decided against it. Just gave you one last smile—soft, private, something she'd keep—and slipped out of the car.
You watched her walk to the building entrance. Watched her punch in the code. Watched her disappear inside without looking back.
Drove home to a penthouse that felt emptier than it should.
