mineganoe

[mineganoe]

Can i ask how's your bias actually??

chaeyeon is my ult, second would be dahyun

[mineganoe]

was fnoemine your old account? if so can we get the yooyeon fic back 😭😭😭

yes that was my old account, don't worry i got everything on my archived now, i'll upload my old fics later

[mineganoe]

Between Members: Cultural Shock

Hearts2Hearts Carmen x Jiwoo

words: 2.5k+

The practice room at SM Entertainment buzzes with the final echoes of Hearts2Hearts’ latest choreography session.

It’s late in the evening, and the eight members are drenched in sweat, their breaths heavy from hours of perfecting their debut single, The Chase.

Jiwoo, the group’s leader, claps her hands, her short bob bouncing as she calls out, “Alright, good work, everyone! Let’s head back to the dorm and rest.”

The others nod, gathering their water bottles and towels, their chatter filling the room with a mix of exhaustion and camaraderie.

Carmen, the Indonesian member and the first of her nationality to debut under SM, lingers behind, wiping her face with a towel.

Her long, dark hair is pulled into a messy ponytail, and her practice outfit—a loose tank top and leggings—clings to her sweat-soaked skin.

She’s still adjusting to the intense K-pop training regimen, the late-night practices, and the cultural nuances of living in Seoul.

Jiwoo notices Carmen’s thoughtful expression and jogs over, her trademark strawberry-emoji energy radiating despite the fatigue. “Hey, Carmen, you okay? You killed it today,” Jiwoo says, nudging her playfully.

Carmen smiles, her eyes crinkling. “Thanks, Jiwoo-ya. Just… still getting used to all this. Back in Bali, I never practiced this late.” Her accent, a soft blend of Indonesian warmth and practiced Korean, makes Jiwoo grin.

“잘했어,” Jiwoo says mean 'You're doing great', she is slinging her arm around Carmen’s shoulders as they head out. “Come on, let’s go back to the dorm and rest"

They share Dorm 1 with Stella and Juun, but tonight, the others are either staying late at the studio or visiting family, leaving the space to just Carmen and Jiwoo.

The dorm is cozy, with plush couches, a small kitchen, and personal touches like Carmen’s Balinese trinkets on a shelf and Jiwoo’s collection of strawberry-themed plushies.

The air smells faintly of lavender from a diffuser, and the dim lighting creates a warm vibe.

They both take turn to shower quickly, changing into comfortable clothes—Jiwoo in a loose t-shirt and shorts, Carmen in a soft oversized hoodie and sweatpants.

Settling on the living room floor with a pile of snacks—chips, ramyeon, and some Indonesian krupuk Carmen brought from home—they start joking around.

Jiwoo grabs a krupuk, crunching loudly and mimicking a dramatic K-drama villain. “Carmen, you dare bring this delicious weapon into my dorm?” she says, pointing the cracker at her.

Carmen laughs, her voice bright and melodic, and snatches it back. “You still eat it tho!” They dissolve into giggles, rolling on the floor, the stress of practice melting away.

Their playful banter escalates when Jiwoo grabs a cushion and tosses it at Carmen, who retaliates by tackling Jiwoo onto the couch. They wrestle lightly, their laughter echoing, until they’re breathless, sprawled side by side.

Jiwoo props herself up on one elbow, her face close to Carmen’s, her eyes glinting with mischief. “You know, Carmen, you’re so different from everyone here. It’s cool. Like, in Indonesia, do you guys just… hug and kiss your friends all the time?”

Carmen blinks, caught off guard by the shift in tone, “Kiss? Like, on the cheek, yeah, sometimes. It’s normal to be close with friends. Why?” Her brow furrows, sensing Jiwoo’s teasing vibe.

Jiwoo smirks, leaning closer, her breath warm against Carmen’s cheek. “In Korea, it’s not that common, you know. Kissing a friend? People might think you’re… more than friends.” Her voice is playful, but there’s a curious edge, her eyes searching Carmen’s face.

Carmen’s cheeks flush, her heart picking up speed. “More than friends? It’s just… affection, right? No big deal.” She tries to laugh it off, but Jiwoo’s proximity—her familiar scent of strawberry shampoo and the heat of her body—makes Carmen’s thoughts blur.

Jiwoo’s teasing doesn’t stop, she brushes a strand of hair from Carmen’s face, her fingers lingering. “So, if I kissed you right now, you’d be cool with it? Just… friendly, right?” The air thickens, the playful mood shifting into something heavier, electric.

Carmen’s breath catches, her eyes flickering to Jiwoo’s lips. “I… guess? I mean, it’s just a kiss.” Her voice is softer now, uncertain but curious, the cultural gap between them sparking a mix of confusion and intrigue.

Jiwoo doesn’t hesitate. She leans in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to Carmen’s lips, pulling back quickly to gauge her reaction.

Carmen’s eyes widen, her face burning, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she laughs nervously, her voice shaky. “Ehem, that was… not what I expected.”

Jiwoo grins, emboldened. “Not bad, though, right?” she kisses Carmen again, slower this time, her lips lingering, testing the waters.

Carmen’s hesitation melts, her body responding instinctively as she kisses back, her hands finding Jiwoo’s waist. The kiss deepens, tongues brushing, a soft moan escaping Carmen’s throat.

The cultural shock of kissing a friend fades, replaced by a rush of desire neither expected.

Jiwoo pulls back slightly, her voice husky. “Carmen, you’re okay with this? I don’t want to freak you out.”

Carmen’s eyes are dark, her breathing uneven. “It’s umm… different, but I like it. I like you,” she admits, her voice raw, the confession surprising even herself.

Jiwoo’s smile is soft, almost tender, as she reaches out, her fingers gently cupping Carmen’s cheeks. Their eyes lock, and the world seems to narrow to just the two of them.

Something unspoken burns in their throats, a mix of nerves and longing rising like a tide. Jiwoo’s thumbs brush Carmen’s cheekbones, her touch light but electric, and Carmen’s breath hitches, her lips parting slightly.

“Carmen,” Jiwoo whispers, her voice barely audible, “you’re really okay with this, right?”

Carmen nods, her voice caught somewhere between her racing heart and her uncertainty. “Yeah… I think so,” she murmurs, her Indonesian accent thicker with emotion.

Jiwoo leans in, closing the small distance, and their lips meet again, this time with a hunger that wasn’t there before. The kiss is urgent, deep, their mouths moving together as if trying to say what words can’t.

Carmen’s hands find Jiwoo’s waist, pulling her closer, their bodies pressing against each other on the couch, the forgotten snacks crunching under their shifting weight.

Jiwoo’s hands move with purpose, sliding under Carmen’s hoodie, her fingers tracing the warm, smooth skin of her stomach. The touch sends a shiver through Carmen, her muscles tensing under Jiwoo’s gentle exploration.

“Jiwoo…” Carmen murmurs, her voice a fragile mix of nerves and need, the unfamiliar intimacy both thrilling and overwhelming. Jiwoo’s fingers pause, her eyes searching Carmen for permission.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” she says softly, her voice laced with care.

“It’s not,” Carmen whispers, her hands tightening on Jiwoo’s waist.

Jiwoo smiles, a flicker of relief in her eyes, and tugs the hoodie upward. Carmen lifts her arms, letting Jiwoo pull it off, revealing her simple black bra, the contrast striking against her tanned skin.

Jiwoo’s breath catches, her gaze lingering. “Carmen…” she whispers, her voice reverent, as she leans in, her lips brushing Carmen’s collarbone, then trailing lower, kissing the soft swell of her breasts above the bra.

Carmen’s head tilts back, a soft gasp escaping her lips as Jiwoo’s kisses ignite sparks across her skin. Her hands tangle in Jiwoo’s short hair, anchoring herself as her body arches instinctively into Jiwoo’s touch.

Jiwoo’s fingers move deftly, finding the clasp of Carmen’s bra and unfastening it with a quiet click. The bra falls away, revealing Carmen’s perky breasts, her dark nipples hardening in the cool air.

Jiwoo’s hands cup them gently, her thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks, drawing a sharp gasp from Carmen. “Jiwoo…” she murmurs, her voice trembling, the sensation overwhelming.

“좋아?” Jiwoo asks, her voice low and warm, her eyes locked on Carmen’s flushed face, checking for any sign of hesitation.

Carmen nods, her breath hitching as Jiwoo’s thumbs continue their slow, teasing circles. “좋아” she manages, her words dissolving into a moan as Jiwoo gently pinches and rolls her nipples, her lips finding a sensitive spot on Carmen’s neck.

Jiwoo sucks lightly, leaving a faint mark, her touch both tender and possessive. “You’re so sensitive,” Jiwoo murmurs, her voice a mix of awe and desire, her lips curving into a small smile against Carmen’s skin.

Jiwoo’s hands explore further, one sliding down to the waistband of Carmen’s sweatpants, her fingers teasing the edge.

“Can I?” she asks, her voice gentle but thick with want, her eyes searching Carmen’s for consent.

Carmen’s heart races, the cultural gap she felt earlier fading under the weight of her desire. She nods, slower this time, her voice barely a whisper, “ne...”

Jiwoo’s smile widens, and she hooks her fingers into the waistband, sliding Carmen’s sweatpants and panties down in one smooth motion, tossing them aside.

Carmen’s bare pussy glistens in the dim light, and Jiwoo’s breath catches, her eyes darkening. “Carmen, you’re dripping,” she says, her voice low, almost reverent, as her fingers brush over Carmen’s clit through the slickness, drawing a soft whimper.

Carmen’s hips buck involuntarily, her hands gripping Jiwoo’s shoulders for support. “Jiwoo…!” she gasps, the sensation electric, her body responding in ways she’s never experienced.

Jiwoo’s fingers move with care, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over Carmen’s clit, watching her reactions closely.

Carmen’s moans grow louder, her nails digging into Jiwoo’s shoulders, her body trembling under the building pleasure.

Jiwoo shifts, shedding her own t-shirt and shorts, her movements quick but deliberate. Her black bra and panties stand out against her pale skin, and Carmen’s eyes widen, drinking in Jiwoo’s slender, toned body, the result of countless dance practices.

Jiwoo unclasps her bra, letting it fall, revealing her small, perky breasts, her nipples already hard.

Carmen hesitates, her hands hovering, torn between curiosity and uncertainty. She wants to touch Jiwoo, to feel her, but the newness of it all holds her back.

“Come on,” Jiwoo says softly, her voice inviting, almost playful, as she guides Carmen’s hands to her breasts.

Carmen’s fingers tremble as they cup Jiwoo’s breasts, her thumbs brushing awkwardly over her nipples.

Jiwoo moans softly, a sound that sends a jolt through Carmen, but then Jiwoo laughs, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

“You’re so bad at this,” she teases, her voice warm, not mocking. Carmen’s cheeks burn, and she pouts, her hands still on Jiwoo’s breasts as if speaking to them, “I’m sorry! I’m trying, okay?”

Jiwoo’s laughter softens, and she cups Carmen’s cheeks, pulling her into a deep, reassuring kiss. Their bare breasts press together, the sensation electric, skin against skin, their heartbeats syncing in the quiet dorm.

“Let me lead, then,” Jiwoo whispers against Carmen’s lips. She guides Carmen to lie back on the couch, the plush fabric cools against Carmen’s heated skin.

Jiwoo’s fingers return to Carmen’s pussy, now bare and glistening, her touch more confident now. She teases Carmen’s clit, then slides a finger inside, feeling the tight, wet walls clench around her.

“You’re so tight,” Jiwoo murmurs, her voice thick with desire, her eyes locked on Carmen’s face as she pumps slowly, watching every flicker of pleasure.

Carmen’s moans grow louder, her hands instinctively grabbing Jiwoo’s wrist, not to stop her but to ground herself. “Jiwoo…” she pleads, her voice desperate, the pleasure building faster than she can process.

Jiwoo adds a second finger, curling them to hit Carmen’s sweet spot, her thumb circling her clit with practiced precision.

Carmen’s body trembles, her nails digging into Jiwoo’s wrist, her hips bucking against Jiwoo’s hand. “Jiwoo, I’m… I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” she gasps, her voice breaking, her eyes squeezing shut.

Jiwoo leans down, her lips capturing one of Carmen’s nipples, sucking gently as her fingers move relentlessly. The dual sensations push Carmen over the edge, and she cries out, her body shaking as she cums, her juices coating Jiwoo’s hand in a rush of warmth.

Jiwoo slows her movements, easing Carmen through the aftershocks, then pulls her fingers out, licking them clean with a soft moan. “Damn, Carmen,” she says, her eyes burning with desire, her own arousal evident in her flushed cheeks.

Carmen, still catching her breath, sits up, her eyes dark with a mix of shyness and determination. “I… I want to try that too,” she says, her voice quiet but resolute, her Indonesian accent softening the words.

Jiwoo’s smile is warm, encouraging, as she lies back on the couch, spreading her legs. Her panties are soaked, clinging to her, and Carmen’s breath catches, her heart pounding.

She slides Jiwoo’s panties off, revealing her glistening pussy, and swallows hard, a nervous *glup* escaping her throat.

Jiwoo laughs, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Carmen!” she says, her voice light but affectionate, “Never done this before?”

Carmen blushes, her gaze flicking between Jiwoo’s pussy and her own hands, as if they might betray her inexperience. “Never,” she admits, her voice small. “I’m a newbie at this.”

Jiwoo’s laughter fades into a gentle smile, and she reaches out, brushing Carmen’s cheek. “You can do this. Just… try.”

Carmen nods, her nerves giving way to curiosity. She leans down, her fingers tentatively exploring Jiwoo’s pussy, rubbing slow circles over her clit.

Jiwoo’s soft moan encourages her, and Carmen’s touch grows bolder, her fingers sliding through Jiwoo’s slickness.

The intimacy of it—the warmth, the vulnerability—stirs something deep in Carmen, and she leans closer, her lips brushing Jiwoo’s inner thigh before pressing a tentative kiss to her pussy. Jiwoo gasps, her hips lifting slightly. “Yes, Carmen, like that,” she murmurs, her voice thick with need.

But Carmen’s inexperience shows, her movements hesitant, and Jiwoo senses her struggle. “Want me to show you something else?” Jiwoo asks, her voice gentle but laced with excitement. Carmen nods, eager to learn, to please.

Jiwoo sits up, guiding Carmen to shift positions, their legs intertwining until their pussies press together, slick and warm. “Like this,” Jiwoo says, starting to move, their bodies finding a rhythm. Carmen gasps at the sensation, the friction electric, her hands gripping Jiwoo’s thighs.

They grind together, slow at first, then faster, their moans blending in the quiet dorm. “Jiwoo, this… oh god,” Carmen breathes, her body trembling, the pleasure unlike anything she’s known.

Jiwoo’s eyes are locked on hers, her voice a low whisper. “You feel so good, Carmen.” Their movements grow desperate, the couch creaking, their juices mixing as they chase release.

Carmen’s cultural shock is a distant memory, her body and heart fully surrendered to Jiwoo, to this moment. “Jiwoo, I’m… I’m...,” Carmen gasps, her nails digging into Jiwoo’s skin.

Jiwoo nods, grinding harder, her own pleasure peaking. “Me too. Together.” They climax together, their bodies shaking, moans loud and unrestrained, their pussies pulsing against each other.

Carmen’s vision blurs, her body collapsing onto Jiwoo’s, their sweaty skin pressed together, their breaths ragged.

==========================

They lie there, tangled, the dorm silent except for their softening breaths. Jiwoo brushes a kiss to Carmen’s forehead, her voice soft, “You, okay?”

Carmen smiles, her heart full, her body still buzzing, “More than okay. That was… wow.” They laugh, the tension easing, their bond deeper, more intimate.

They clean up, pulling on their clothes, and curl up under a blanket, Jiwoo’s head on Carmen’s shoulder.

“We’re doing this again, right?” Jiwoo murmurs, her voice sleepy. Carmen nods, her fingers tracing Jiwoo’s hand.

“Right. Just us.” In the heart of Hearts2Hearts, they’ve found something new, a spark born from teasing that’s now a flame they’ll keep burning.

[mineganoe]

Biology After Hours (Male Reader x Yubin)

Synopsis: You are an 18-year-old boy, just Yubin’s ordinary classmate at Shingal High School. When she gets slammed with overdue homework—due to her idol schedule eating up the semester, she turns to you for help.

Time Background: 1 month before Yubin’s graduation.

Tags: Blowjob, Rough Sex, Fingering, Breast Play, Ruined Orgasm, Teasing, Power Dynamics, Classmate

Words: 6k+

You’re a senior at Shingal High School, just a few months shy of graduation, and the clock’s ticking louder every day. The hallways are buzzing with that restless energy—kids cramming for finals, planning college apps, or just coasting ‘til the end. You’re somewhere in the middle, keeping your head down, but there’s one thing that’s been gnawing at you all year: Yubin.

She’s in your class, tripleS’s Yubin—yeah, that Yubin, the idol who somehow balances school and stardom without breaking a sweat. She’s quiet in class, not flashy like you’d expect, always doodling in her notebook or staring out the window, her long-hair glistened her face just right.

At school, she’s just Yubin—smart... well, a little shy, the girl who always has her earbuds in during breaks. You’ve talked a few times—group projects, passing notes about homework—but nothing big, nothing to hint at the way your chest tightens when she’s around.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the day, and the classroom erupts into the usual chaos—kids bolting for the door, bags swinging, chatter filling the air. You’re packing up slow, shoving your notebook into your backpack, when Yubin turns around in her seat, leaning over the desk with a look that’s half-pleading, half-annoyed.

“Hey,” she says, tapping her pencil against her chin, “I’m drowning in some homework. Missed too many classes early semester—idol stuff—and now I’ve got this huge project due, sort of science things. Help me out?” Her eyes lock on yours, and you’re already nodding before your brain catches up, because it’s Yubin, triplesS's Yubin.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you say, adjusting your glasses, trying to play it cool. “When?” She doesn’t hesitate. “Now—. Like, right now. No time left to mess around.” Then she drops the bomb: “Come to my place. My house."

Your stomach flips—she’s inviting you to her real home, not the polished idol world you’ve seen on streams or vlogs. It’s personal, private, and the thought of it makes your palms sweat as you mumble, “Okay, cool.”

Half an hour later, you’re walking beside her, backpack slung over one shoulder, her earbuds dangling loose as she leads you through a quiet neighborhood—tree-lined streets, modest houses, nothing like the glitzy dorm life you’d pictured.

Her house is simple, a two-story with a small porch, and she unlocks the door, kicking her shoes off with a tired groan. “Mom’s out, so it’s just us,” she says, tossing her bag down and heading to the living room.

The coffee table’s a mess—biology textbooks, diagrams of male and female anatomy, a sketch of a penis half-drawn in her notebook. You say, pushing your glasses up, “What’s you up to?”

“Genitals—reproductive systems,” she says, like she knows it’s weird but doesn’t care. Your brain stutters—genitals?—but you manage, “Okay then..”

She flops onto the couch, patting the cushion next to her. “Alright, help me out, come.” You sit, pulse racing, close enough to catch her faint citrus scent, the awkwardness of the topic hanging between you as you dive into hers very real, very private world.

You’re sitting on Yubin’s couch, the biology mess sprawled out on the table—textbooks open to chapters on reproductive systems, diagrams of ovaries and testes staring back at you, her half-drawn penis sketch taunting your nerves. She’s leaning in close, elbow propped on the couch arm, watching you with a spark in her eyes while you try to explain.

“So, uh,” you start, voice cracking slightly, pushing your glasses up as you point at the textbook, “the male system—it’s, y’know, got the testes here, and they produce, uh, sperm, which moves through the—” You stumble, face heating up, the word sperm feeling dumb rolling off your tongue in her living room. “—epididymis, then up to the vas deferens. It’s… basic stuff.” You’re dying inside, awkward as hell, avoiding her gaze.

Yubin’s not fazed—she’s excited, leaning closer, her knee brushing yours. “Wait, so that’s where it all starts? That’s kinda cool,” she says, grabbing the pencil and adding a quick line to her sketch, shading the testes with a grin. “Keep going—what’s next?” Her enthusiasm throws you off, you expected her to cringe or laugh, but she’s into it, eyes bright, like this is some fun puzzle.

“Uh, okay,” you manage, swallowing hard, flipping the page to the female side. “So, the ovaries—they release eggs, right? And the fallopian tubes—” You point, hand shaky, “—they’re like the highway to the uterus. If, uh, stuff meets up, you get… fertilization.” Your ears are burning, and you’re sure you sound like a stuttering idiot.

She nods fast, scribbling notes, then looks up, smirking. “Why are you blushing? It’s just biology—don’t freak out.” She’s teasing, but not mean—her excitement’s real, she's geeking out over genital diagrams with you, her leg now fully pressed against yours. “Tell me more—how’s it all connect?” she asks, pencil poised, and you’re stuck, awkwardness clashing with her energy, trying not to melt under the pressure of her stare and the weird, it's tripleS's Yubin after all.

You’re fumbling through the explanation, Yubin’s thigh pressed against yours, her pencil flying across the page as she peppers you with questions—“So the sperm just swims up there? How fast?”—her voice bright, genuinely hooked on this genital stuff.

You’re trying to focus, pointing at the diagram, “Yeah, it’s, uh, millions of them, but only one—if any—makes it,” but her excitement’s doing something to you. Her closeness, the way she’s leaning in, eyes wide, lips parted—it’s hitting you low, a twitch in your pants you can’t ignore. You shift, hoping she doesn’t notice, but your dick’s getting hard, and it’s not subtle.

She catches it—her gaze flicks down, quick but sharp, landing on the bulge in your jeans. You freeze, face flaming, ready to stammer some excuse, but Yubin doesn’t freak out. She tilts her head, smirking a little, curious as hell. “Wait—is that…?” she says, voice dropping, eyes locked on it like it’s a science exhibit. “Are you hard right now?” There’s no judgment—just pure, her intrigue, the same way she’s been about the diagrams.

You choke out, “Uh—shit, sorry, it’s just—” but she cuts you off, scooting closer, “No, no, it’s cool. I’ve only seen it in porn, y’know? Never… real.”

Her curiosity’s electric—she’s staring, half-amazed, half-fascinated, like your hard-on’s the next part of the project. “Does it always do that? Like, when you’re talking about this stuff?” she asks, nodding at the textbook, her leg brushing you again, intentional or not.

You’re dying, cock throbbing now, and mutter, “Sometimes—uh, you’re close, and it’s… yeah.”

She grins, not shy, just Yubin—your classmate, kpop idol, “That’s wild,” her voice low, her nerdy excitement turning into something else, something dangerous, and you’re both teetering on the edge of this weird, horny biology lesson.

Yubin’s still leaning close, her eyes flicking between your face and the obvious bulge in your jeans, that smirk lingering like she’s just discovered something fascinating. “Okay, but what about girls?” she asks, tilting her head, pencil tapping the textbook absently. “How’s it work for us—like, the horny part?” Her tone’s casual, but there’s a glint in her eye.

You’re flustered, cock still hard, but you try to play it off, clearing your throat. “Uh, simple—girls’ nipples get hard, and, uh, the clit too, when they’re turned on. Same deal, just… less obvious than, y’know,” you nod downward, awkward as hell.

Her mouth drops open a little, then she laughs—soft, amused, not mocking. “Wait, seriously? Nipples and clit? I’ve never even noticed that!” She sits back, glancing down at herself like she’s checking for evidence, then looks back at you, grinning. “That’s so weird—I mean, cool, but weird. How’d I miss that?” She’s half-talking to herself, she caught up in her own curiosity, and it’s almost funny—her innocence clashing with the porn she’s seen, now piecing it together with you right there.

You shrug, still burning up, “Yeah, it’s subtle—happens when you’re, uh, into it. Biology, right?”

She nods, biting her lip, eyes darting back to your lap, then up to you, playful but sharp. “Huh. Guess I need to pay more attention—to myself and this stuff,” she says, tapping the diagram, her leg brushing yours again. It’s light, teasing, but her amusement’s got you harder, her clueless excitement making the air thick—your nerdy classmate turning this biology project into something way too real, and she’s not backing off.

Yubin’s still chuckling about her nipple-and-clit revelation, scribbling something random in her notebook, when she shifts, tugging at her uniform blazer. “Ugh, it’s getting hot in here,” she mutters, shrugging it off and tossing it onto the couch arm. The AC’s busted—you can feel the stuffy warmth creeping in—and without the blazer, her white school shirt clings a little, unbuttoned at the top, showing off her collarbone, the curve of her chest just hinting through the fabric. She’s Yubin—tripleS's S8, your classmate, but right now, she’s all sexiness—casual, unaware, fanning herself with her hand, making it impossible not to stare.

You shift in your seat, your cock still hard from her curiosity, throbbing worse now as you try to adjust—crossing your legs, moving your hips, anything to hide it. But Yubin’s eyes flick down again, sharp and quick, catching the bulge you’re failing to mask.

She doesn’t say anything at first—just smirks, leaning forward on her elbows, her shirt stretching tighter, giving you a better view of her shape. “You’re really struggling down there, huh?” she says, voice low, teasing, not letting it slide this time. “Is it me or the biology talk?” She’s grinning, playful but bold, like she’s testing how far this can go.

You’re caught, face hot, stammering, “Uh—it’s, y’know, both,” pushing your glasses up, trying to laugh it off but dying inside. She’s not fazed—leans closer, her bare arms brushing the table, her scent hitting you again, and keeps staring, amused, curious.

“Crazy,” she murmurs, almost to herself, eyes locked on your lap, then back up to you, that spark in her gaze brighter now.

=================

The room’s a sauna, the broken AC doing nothing to cut the heat, and Yubin’s relentless—her eyes glued to the bulge in your jeans, a smirk playing on her lips as you fumble through the biology explanation.

You’re a wreck—sweat dripping down your neck, ears red, heart pounding so loud you’re sure she can hear it. “Uh—the, uh, reproductive cycle—” you stutter, but she’s not listening, leaning in closer, her breath hot against your skin.

Your words die, focus gone, as she tilts her head, so close now her hair brushes your cheek, and you think she’s about to whisper something—maybe a tease, maybe a question—but instead, her tongue flicks out, grazing your earlobe, quick and deliberate.

You jolt back, “Whoa—!” voice cracking, scooting away an inch, shocked, your glasses nearly slipping off. She giggles—soft, mischievous—covering her mouth like it’s a game, but she doesn’t stop—crawling toward you, slow and playful, until you’re leaning back, hands braced on the floor, trapped under her advance.

She hovers over you, her knee nudging your leg, then presses her hand lightly against your bulge, not hard, just enough to feel it. “It’s so tense down there,” she murmurs, smirking wider, her tone teasing, curious, like she’s testing how far you’ll let this go.

Your breath hitches, pulse racing, hot all over—half from the room, half from her—and you’re gripping the carpet, trying to hold it together. “Yubin—what’re you—” you start, but she just laughs again, leaning in ‘til her face is inches from yours, her voice dropping low.

“Relax, nerd, you’re too wound up. It’s just us.” She’s pinning you down with that bold, playful energy, and you’re teetering—caught between freaking out and giving in, alone in her house with no way to cool down the fire she’s stoking.

Her hand still rubbing your bulge, slow and firm, her smirk growing as you twitch under her touch. The room’s a furnace—sweat sticking your shirt to your back, your glasses fogging at the edges—and she’s relentless, she is staring down at you like you’re her next experiment.

Her fingers sliding to your jeans, popping the button with a flick. She yanks the zipper down fast, the sound loud in the thick air, and tugs your jeans open, peeling them back just enough. “I wanna see it—a real dick,” she says, voice low, eyes wide with that wild, nerdy excitement.

You’re breathless, “Yubin—,” but you don’t stop her—can’t, not with your cock straining, hard and aching, begging to be free. She hooks her fingers into your boxers, pulling them down in one rough tug, and there it is—your dick springs out, thick and stiff, pulsing in the open air.

She stares, mouth parting slightly, like she’s cataloging it—she's inches from your bare cock. “Well damn,” she breathes, half-laughing, half-awed, “it’s… bigger than I thought.” Her hand hovers, hesitant for a second, then brushes it—light, curious, sending a jolt through you that makes your hips jerk.

Your head tipping back, hands gripping the floor harder as she watches it twitch under her touch. She’s mesmerized, giggling soft, “It’s so… alive,” like it’s some biology marvel, but her fingers linger, tracing the shaft, testing it, and you’re losing it—sweat dripping, heart racing, caught in her grip.

Yubin’s got your cock in her hand now, her fingers wrapped around it, she is staring down at you with that mix of curiosity and mischief as your jeans hang open, boxers shoved down. The room’s a sweatbox, air thick and heavy, and you’re panting, every nerve on fire as she brushes the tip with her thumb—slow, deliberate, smearing the bead of pre-cum already leaking out. “Oh, shit,” she murmurs, grinning wide, rubbing the sensitive head in tight little circles, watching your hips buck involuntary. “Look at that—it’s so cute,” she says, amused, like your dick’s some adorable toy she’s just discovered.

You groan loud, “Yubin—” head slamming back against the floor, hands clawing at the carpet as she plays with you—stroking the shaft slow, then fast, her grip loose one second, tight the next, teasing the hell out of you.

She giggles, low and dirty, “Cute, but kinda hot too—how’s it so hard?” Her fingers slide down, cupping your balls for a second, rolling them gently, then back up, focusing on the tip again—rubbing it harder, flicking it with her thumb, making you twitch and curse under her touch. She’s relentless—turning your dick into her personal playground, loving every reaction she pulls out of you.

“It’s like… wiggling or something,” she laughs, squeezing the head, then stroking down the full length, her hand slick with your pre-cum now, moving faster, rougher. Your breath’s ragged, sweat pouring, “Yubin, slow down—” but she doesn’t, leaning in closer, her face inches from it, her hot breath hitting you as she mutters, “No way—this is too fun.” She’s jerking you off now, full-on—hard, fast pumps, amused and turned on, her eyes glinting as you writhe, completely at her mercy in this muggy, out-of-control mess.

Her hand’s still pumping your cock—fast, slick, her fingers tight around you, playing with the tip ‘til you’re a groaning mess, sweat soaking your shirt, sprawled helpless on her living room floor. She’s grinning, reveling in the power, when she suddenly slows, eyes flicking up to yours—dark, curious, dangerous. “Wonder what it tastes like,” she murmurs, almost to herself, and before you can process, she leans down, her tongue darting out, licking the tip slow—hot, wet, tasting the pre-cum glistening there. “Arh—” you gasp, hips jerking up, but she’s already in, wrapping her lips around the head, sucking light, teasing, like she’s sampling you.

You’re gone—head back, hands useless on the carpet, control slipping as she takes over. “Yubin—you don’t have to—” you start, but it’s weak, pointless, she’s got you now, doing whatever the hell she wants.

She pulls off for a second, giggling, “Kinda salty—cute,” then dives back, taking more this time—her mouth hot, tight, sliding down your shaft, tongue flicking along the underside. You groan loud, “Yubin—!” surrendering completely, letting her run it—sucking harder, bobbing slow then fast, her hand still jerking the base, spit dripping down, making it messy.

She’s in charge, and you can’t stop her—don’t want to, not really. Her eyes flick up, meeting yours, amused and smug as she pulls back, lips popping off, a string of spit hanging before she wipes it with her thumb.

Yubin pulls her mouth off your cock with a wet pop, her lips shiny with spit and your pre-cum, a smug little grin spreading across her face as she sits back up. Her hand’s soaked—dripping with her saliva and the slick mess leaking from you—and she doesn’t hesitate, wrapping it around your dick again, tight and slippery.

“This is fun,” she says, voice low, teasing, she's watching you squirm as she starts jerking you off—slow at first, dragging her fist down your shaft inch by inch, letting you feel every slick twist, then speeding up, fast and loose, just enough to make you buck before slowing again. It’s torture—pure, deliberate torture.

“Yubin—” you groan, head lolling back, hands useless against the floor as she plays you like a damn toy. She giggles, focusing on the tip now—rubbing it hard with her thumb, circling the head, smearing the wet mess around ‘til it’s glistening, sensitive as hell.

“So cute how it twitches,” she teases, flicking it lightly, making you jolt, your breath ragged, sweat pouring down your neck. She switches rhythms—slow strokes, then fast pumps, then back to agonizingly slow, her wet grip slipping up and down, torturing you with the unpredictability, keeping you on edge, desperate.

You’re a wreck—hips jerking into her hand, trying to chase it, but she’s in full control, grinning down at you, her spit-slick palm driving you insane. “You’re dying, huh?” she murmurs, leaning close again, her breath hot on your cheek as she rubs the tip harder, relentless, “Bet you can’t take much more.”

Her hand sliding over your cock, slow then fast, torturing you with that playful grip—when she shifts, eyes glinting with new mischief. She grabs your shirt, still buttoned, and yanks it up hard, the fabric straining as it rides over your chest, exposing your nipples.

“Oh, look at that,” she murmurs, smirking. You’re panting, wrecked, but before you can catch your breath, she crashes her mouth onto yours—hard, sloppy, a full-on French kiss, her tongue diving in, hot and needy, tasting you deep.

Her one hand stays on your dick—stroking, rubbing the tip with her thumb, slick and relentless, keeping you twitching—while the other slides up, fingers finding your nipple. She pinches it lightly, then harder, rolling it between her thumb and finger, teasing it ‘til it’s stiff, sending a jolt straight through you. She kisses you harder, tongue wrestling yours, swallowing your sounds, her spit mixing with yours as she presses her chest closer, dominating you completely.

She’s everywhere—hand pumping your cock, fingers twisting your nipple, her lips sucking your tongue, wet and messy, the heat of her breath making your head spin. “So sensitive,” she whispers against your mouth, giggling dark, then dives back in, biting your lip, jerking you faster now, her dual attack ruthless—she's owning you, shirt hiked up, body trembling, lost in her control as she plays you like a damn instrument, pushing you closer to breaking with every slick, torturous move.

Yubin’s got you pinned—her tongue tangled with yours, sloppy and fierce, her spit dripping down your chin as she kisses you hard, owning every inch of you. One hand’s jerking your cock—wet, fast, her grip slick with spit and pre-cum, pumping you relentless—while the other twists your nipple, sharp and rough, making you arch into her touch.

You’re close—too close—your balls tightening, heat spiking, “Yubin, I’m gonna—” you gasp into her mouth, hips bucking, chasing it, the edge right there.

She feels it—your cock throbbing, twitching in her hand—and smirks against your lips, pulling back just enough to whisper, “Oh, you’re ready?”

Her fingers speed up, stroking hard, focusing on the tip, rubbing it raw, and you’re groaning, “Yes, yes—” but then, right as you hit the peak—

She lets go—hand off your dick, mid-thrust, leaving it pulsing in the air. You cum anyway—ruined, weak spurts dribbling out, splattering your stomach, no pressure, no relief, just a pathetic leak as your orgasm collapses. “Arhh—!” you choke, body jerking, desperate, but it’s too late, the wave crashing with no payoff.

She giggles—dark, playful—watching you writhe, shirt yanked up, nipple still tingling from her fingers, your cock twitching uselessly, dripping. “Aw, look at that,” she teases, wiping her hand on your thigh, leaning back to admire the mess—smug as hell. “Cute, but kinda sad,” she says, flicking your nipple one last time, making you flinch. You’re panting, sweating, ruined—pleasure stolen, left hanging—and she’s in control, loving every second of your frustrated, wrecked state, her lips curling as she watches you squirm.

You’re slumped against the floor, shirt still hiked up, chest heaving, your cock twitching weakly as the last dribbles of your ruined orgasm streak across your stomach.

Yubin’s sitting back, smirking, wiping her spit-slick hand on your jeans like it’s nothing, looking way too pleased with herself. You’re a mess—sweat-soaked, frustrated, the high stolen from you—and you manage to rasp out, voice shaky, “How’re you so good at this? Like, that good?” Your eyes flick to her, half-accusing, half-awed, still reeling from her control.

She laughs—light, unbothered—leaning back on her hands, her blazer crumpled beside her, shirt still clinging to her frame. “Oh, that?” she says, shrugging, like it’s no big deal. “I watch a lot of porn. With the other members, y’know—group bonding.” Her grin turns sly, eyes glinting as she watches your reaction. “Chaeyeon’s into the rough stuff, Jiwoo likes the weird kinky shit—learned a few tricks from them.” She tilts her head, smirking wider, “Guess I’m a quick study.”

You blink, brain lagging, trying to process—tripleS’s Yubin, your shy classmate, casually dropping that she’s been watching porn with her groupmates, picking up moves like some twisted team-building exercise.

“You—what?” you stammer, ears red, the image of her and the tripleS girls huddled around a screen flashing in your head, making your dick twitch again despite the ruin. She giggles, crawling closer, tapping your chest playfully. “Don’t act so shocked, nerd—we all watched some porn, right?” Her tone’s teasing, she's back in your face, owning the moment, leaving you stunned and stupidly turned on all over again.

You’re still catching your breath, sprawled on her living room floor, the sting of your ruined orgasm fading as Yubin leans back, grinning, her confession about porn with the tripleS girls still ringing in your ears.

She shifts closer, eyes dropping to your cock—still half-hard, slick with her spit and your mess—and tilts her head, smirking. “Y’know, your dick’s actually pretty impressive,” she says, voice low, teasing but genuine. “Big, too—like, damn, no wonder it felt so good messing with it.” Her fingers brush it lightly, casual, like she’s admiring it, and you twitch, heat surging back, your dick waking up fast under her gaze and words.

She catches your reaction—grins wider—and starts unbuttoning her school shirt, slow, one by one, peeling it open to reveal her bra, her skin smooth and flushed from the heat. Then she reaches for her skirt, sliding it down her hips, kicking it off, leaving her in just her underwear.

Your eyes widen, pulse spiking, and you sit up a little, stammering, “Yubin—uh, you okay? You’re an idol, y’know—don’t you have to, like… be careful?” She pauses, shirt hanging off her shoulders, and looks at you with that sharp, knowing stare.

“I’m human too, nerd,” she says, shrugging, voice soft but firm. “I get horny, I get curious—same as anyone, same as you. No cameras here, just us.”

Her bra’s tight, her panties clinging, and she crawls back toward you, confident, human, stripping away the idol shell. “Besides,” she adds, smirking again, leaning close ‘til her lips brush your ear, “your big dick’s got me worked up now—can’t just leave it there, right?” her touch reigniting you, shirt half-off, skirt gone, pushing you back into that horny haze as she takes control again, no hesitation, just flesh and need.

Yubin’s kneeling over you, her shirt dangling open, bra barely holding on, then stripping down to nothing. She hooks her thumbs into her panties, yanking them down fast, tossing them aside, and there it is—her pink pussy, bare and glistening, right in front of you.

She spreads her legs a little, fingers slipping down, parting the lips shyly but with purpose. “Lube this first…” she says, voice low, a touch hesitant but pushing through, her cheeks flushing as she holds herself open, showing you everything.

You’re done holding back—heart pounding, cock throbbing again—and you grab her hips, pulling her down closer. You diving in, your mouth on her pussy fast, tongue lapping at her slit, tasting her—salty, tangy, a hint of sweetness that hits you hard.

She gasps, “Oh—ahh!” hips jerking against your face as you eat her out, licking deep, sucking her clit, her wetness smearing your lips, your chin. She’s trembling—half-shy, half-wild—fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you, “Yess—like that,” her voice breaking, breathy and needy.

Her pussy’s hot, slick under your tongue—salty from her sweat, sweet from her arousal—and you’re devouring her, no finesse, just hunger, flattening your tongue to cover every inch, drinking her in. She’s moaning now, "Good—so good,” rocking against you, her shyness melting as she grinds harder, letting go, her thighs clamping around your head, her pink folds pulsing, wet and perfect.

You pull back from eating Yubin out, her pussy still slick on your lips, her taste lingering—salty, sweet, addictive. She’s panting with her thighs trembling, eyes half-lidded, caught in the haze you’ve put her in.

You slide up, crashing your mouth into hers—kissing her hard, sloppy, letting her taste herself on your tongue. She moans into it, soft and needy, as your hands move fast—one reaching behind, unhooking her bra with a quick snap, tugging it off to let her breasts spill free, the other diving back between her legs, fingers brushing her wet folds.

"Hmhhh—" She gasps against your lips, but you don’t stop—kissing her deeper, tongue wrestling hers, while your fingers slip inside her pussy, two at once, curling in tight, pumping slow but firm. She’s soaking—hot, tight, clenching around you—and your other hand grabs her breast, squeezing the soft weight, thumb flicking her nipple hard, making it stiffen under your touch.

She whimpers, “Shit—” arching into you, her body rocking between your hands, caught in the rhythm—stripped bare, moaning into your mouth as you finger her and play with her tit.

You keep it up—kissing her breathless, lips bruised, your fingers thrusting deeper, hitting that spot that makes her shake, her wetness dripping down your knuckles. Your other hand kneads her breast—pinching, tugging the nipple, rolling it ‘til she’s squirming, her moans louder, muffled by your tongue.

“So good—” she pants, breaking the kiss for air, but you dive back in, owning her mouth, her pussy, her chest—pushing her further, feeling her tighten, her body begging for more in this sweaty, reckless mess.

=================

You pull your hand free, her wetness coating your fingers, and shift—grabbing your cock, hard and throbbing, lining it up with her pink, slick entrance. She’s sprawled beneath you, legs spread, panting, eyes locked on yours, ready.

You pause, tip brushing her folds, and ask again—voice rough, careful—“Yubin, you sure? Have you done this before?” You’ve asked a few times already, needing to hear it, needing her clear.

She nods, swallowing hard, her gaze steady despite the flush on her cheeks. “Yeah—yes,” she says, breath shaky but firm. “When I signed with the agency… it happened. Not my first time.” Her words hit you, admitting she’s been here before, some agency rite you can’t unpack now—and it’s enough.

You thrust—hard, deep, sliding into her tight, wet pussy in one smooth stroke, filling her up. She gasps, “Fuck—!” back arching, hands gripping your shoulders, nails biting in as you bottom out, her walls clenching around you, hot and perfect.

You don’t hold back—pulling out halfway, then slamming back in, setting a rhythm, fast and rough, her moans spilling out, “Yes—shit, like that!” Your hand’s still on her breast, squeezing, playing with her nipple, the other gripping her hip to keep her steady as you fuck her—hard, relentless, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the muggy room.

You’re deep inside Yubin, your cock buried in her tight, wet pussy, slamming into her over and over, the rhythm brutal and unrelenting. She’s moaning loud—wrecked beneath you, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, her nails clawing your back as you grab her waist, fingers digging into her soft skin.

You pace up—harder, faster—slamming into her with force, pulling her hips to meet you, the wet slap-slap-slap of your bodies echoing in the hot, stuffy room. “Fuck—yes, don’t stop!” she cries, voice breaking, her pussy clenching you tight, sucking you in deeper.

Her legs wrap around you—strong, desperate—locking you in, thighs trembling as she hooks her ankles behind your back, pulling you harder, not letting you go. “Shit—Yubin,” you grunt, feeling her grip, her heat, her need—she’s not giving you an inch to stop, and you don’t want to.

You pound her relentlessly, hands sliding up her waist, gripping her tighter, slamming so deep she’s shaking, her moans turning to gasps, “Fuck—harder—!” she’s taking it all—legs wrapped, body arching, her pussy soaking you, pulsing with every brutal thrust.

You’re lost in it—sweat dripping, your hips driving, her legs holding you captive as you fuck her senseless, the pressure building, your cock throbbing inside her. She’s trembling, clinging, her thighs squeezing you tight, her breath hitching with every slam—raw, wild, completely yours in this moment, and you can feel her breaking under you, pushing you to keep going, no mercy, no pause.

You’re slamming into Yubin, her pussy gripping you tight, wet and hot, her legs locked around your waist—pulling you in, trembling beneath you as you pound her harder, faster, your hands digging into her hips.

She’s moaning loud, desperate, “Fuck—yes—!” and then her body tenses, shaking hard, her thighs clamping down as she cums—hard. Her pussy pulses around your cock, squeezing you in waves, her breath ragged, a sharp “Oh—shit!” spilling out as she rides it, eyes squeezed shut, lost in it.

“Cum outside—outside!” she gasps, voice frantic, still twitching from her orgasm, but you’re too far gone—her clenching, her heat, the way she’s wrapped around you—it’s too much.

“Fuck—Yubin, I—” you try, pulling back, but it’s too late. You cum—hard, deep inside her, a thick, hot burst flooding her pussy, pulsing out as you groan, “Shit—!” Your hips jerk, thrusting through it, spilling every drop, her walls milking you even as she realizes, her eyes snapping open, wide and stunned.

She’s panting, staring up at you, her legs still locked around you, your cum leaking out around your cock as you stay buried in her. “You—did you just—inside?” she says, voice shaky, a mix of shock and something else—maybe panic, maybe not.

You’re sweating, breathless, “I couldn’t—sorry,” stammering, but she doesn’t push you off, just lies there, her pussy full of you.

“Fuck—suck it up, suck it up!” she snaps, voice sharp, panicked, shoving your shoulders down, your cum dripping from her pussy.

“I don’t wanna take those bitter pills again—hurry!” Her hands push at you, insistent, her thighs spreading wider, giving you no choice, no time to argue—your mistake, your mess, and she’s not about to deal with it the hard way.

You drop fast, face between her legs, her pussy still pulsing from her orgasm, now leaking your thick, hot cum. “Shit—Yubin, I—” you start, but she cuts you off, “Just do it!” and you dive in—mouth on her, sucking hard, tongue plunging into her slick, creamy folds. It’s gross, weird—salty, bitter, a mix of her sweetness and your own load, coating your lips, your tongue—but you don’t stop, lapping it up, swallowing the mess you made.

She squirms, “Fuck—yes, get it all,” her hands gripping your hair, pulling you in, guiding you to clean her out. You’re going at it—sucking, licking, the taste strange and overwhelming, her pussy hot and wet, your cum slipping out as you work, she's moaning soft now, less panicked, more relieved.

“Good—keep going,” she pants, hips rocking into your face, her urgency fading into something else—pleasure, maybe, as you eat her clean, taking it all back. It’s filthy, desperate, but you’re doing it—heart pounding, mouth full, making sure she doesn’t have to face the bitter pills.

You’re still between Yubin’s legs, mouth working fast—sucking, licking, pulling every last drop of your cum from her pussy, the taste bitter and strange but fading as you go. She’s gripping your hair tight, panting above you, her thighs quivering, her urgency softening into heavy breaths.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she finally mutters, voice hoarse, tugging you up by the shoulders. You pull back, lips slick, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, both of you wrecked—sweat-soaked, clothes half-off, the living room a muggy, messy haze.

She slumps back against the couch, chest heaving, her skirt crumpled beside her, panties long gone. “Should brought condom” she says, half-laughing, half-relieved, running a hand through her messy hair, she's looking human—flushed, tired, but sated.

You’re just as gone—jeans open, shirt shoved up, sitting back on your heels, catching your breath. “Sorry… got outta hand,” you mumble, glasses fogged, still tasting her and you on your tongue, the whole thing a blur of lust and panic.

She grabs her blazer, tossing it over her lap, then nods at the textbooks still scattered on the table. “Guess we’re done with biology for today.” You both laugh—short, shaky—awkward but real, the tension breaking as you pull your jeans up, she buttons her shirt sloppy, and the moment settles.

It’s over—wild, messy, unforgettable—classmates turned something else, left in the sweaty aftermath, no regrets, just the quiet hum of the busted AC and a project you’ll never look at the same way again.

=================

You catch your breath, pulling your jeans up as Yubin lounges on the couch, blazer over her lap, smirking lazily. You grab your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder.

“I’m out,” you say, keeping it casual, adjusting your glasses.

She nods, “Later” already dozing off, thinking it’s done.

You smirk, heading for the door, knowing the hidden camera in your bag caught it all—every second of her stripping, moaning, you fucking her—recorded perfectly from start to finish.

Outside, the cool air hits you, and you walk home, bag heavy with the secret footage. It went exactly as planned—tripleS’s Yubin on tape, yours to use later, a little smirk tugging at your lips as you imagine what’s next, the power now in your hands.

[mineganoe]

Secret SSS Story pt.3

tripleS Sullin x male reader

link for previous parts: Secret SSS Story pt.1 (Seoyeon) Secret SSS Story pt.2 (Chaeyeon)

author's note: "Hello everyone, thanks for stay tuned for this series, I planned this series to release at least one for every a week at sunday night, and for your remember; this series is not based of their S number, so it could be random, this also applies to the time setting. Once again, thank you so much!"

words: 5.9k+

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intro:

One and a half year had passed.

tripleS had grown, now complete with its full 24-member lineup. The group’s rise was meteoric, their debut as a complete 24-member came to prepare.

Your promotion from junior manager to full-fledged manager came with a flood of new responsibilities. Schedules overflowed with performances, interviews, photoshoots, and fan events, and coordinating 24 unique personalities was no small feat.

The office buzzed with activity, sunlight streaming through windows as you juggled logistics, mediated conflicts, and ensured the members were ready for every stage.

Yet, beneath the professional facade, the secrets you guarded still gnawed at you.

prolog:

Among the new members, one stood out under your careful watch: Sullin, the 22nd member, hailing from Thailand. At just 19, she brought a fresh energy to tripleS, her striking visuals and fluid dance moves already earning her a dedicated fanbase.

But her Korean was far from her best, the result of only two months of intensive language training before joining the group.

Her limited fluency made communication a challenge, she relied heavily on a language-learning app on her phone, its soft voice guiding her through Korean phrases during breaks, her fingers tapping out translations as she mouthed words to herself.

While the other members chatted and laughed, Sullin sat alone in a corner, her phone screen glowing as she repeated Korean phrases under her breath, her brow furrowed in frustration. Her Thai accent was thick, her sentences halting, but she persisted, nodding politely when addressed, though her responses were often delayed as she consulted her app.

The other members were patient as you, some offering simple phrases or gestures to bridge the gap, but you could see the strain in her eyes—the pressure to keep up in a language and culture still so foreign.

As manager, you made it a point to check in with her, your role demanding you ensure every member was supported, especially one facing such a steep learning curve.

“Sullin-ssi, how’s everything going?” you asked one day, approaching her during a break, the sunlight casting long shadows across the practice room floor. She looked up, startled, her phone clutched tightly, and offered a shy smile, her English better than her Korean but still accented and careful.

“It’s… hard,” she admitted, her voice soft, her words deliberate as she glanced at her app for reassurance. “Korean is very different. But I try. I want to be good."

You nodded, offering encouragement. “You’re doing great, Sullin-ssi. It takes time, but you’re already keeping up. If you need help, just let me know, okay?” She smiled wider, her eyes crinkling, and murmured a soft “Thank you, Manajer-nim,” her accent wrapping around the words in a way that was both endearing and resolute.

Sullin’s determination to keep up with her limited Korean fluency was admirable, but her frequent mistakes—misspoken words, cultural misunderstandings, and unintended bluntness—had already caused minor headaches.

You’d worked closely with her, coaching her on key phrases and cautioning her about sensitive topics, but her reliance on a language-learning app and her candid nature made her unpredictable. The fear that she might accidentally reveal something critical, perhaps even one of your own secrets, lingered in the back of your mind, a quiet tension beneath your daily duties.

That fear became reality during a live radio broadcast, a high-profile appearance meant to promote tripleS’s latest activities. The studio, bathed in the soft glow of morning sunlight streaming through large windows, buzzed with energy as the members chatted with the host, their laughter and charm filling the airwaves.

You stood in the control room, watching through the glass, your clipboard in hand, ready to signal cues if needed.

Sullin sat near the center, her phone tucked away as per protocol, her expression focused but nervous as she followed the conversation, her limited Korean making her responses cautious.

The host, a seasoned broadcaster with a knack for drawing out candid moments, turned to Sullin with a playful question.

“Sullin-ssi, what’s next for tripleS? Any exciting plans you can share with the fans?” It was a standard prompt, one the group had prepared for, with safe, vague answers about “working hard” and “surprises soon.”

But Sullin, caught off guard and struggling to translate the question in her mind, hesitated, her eyes darting to the other members for help.

Before anyone could intervene, she spoke, her voice earnest but unsteady, her Thai accent thick.

“Uh… we have comeback… next month, new album, very big!”

The words tumbled out, clear and unfiltered, and the studio fell silent for a split second, the host’s smile freezing as the members’ eyes widened in shock.

The control room erupted into chaos, staff exchanging panicked glances, and your heart sank, the clipboard nearly slipping from your hands. Sullin had just revealed the tightly guarded schedule for tripleS’s next comeback, a secret the company had planned to unveil strategically in weeks.

Chaeyeon, seated beside Sullin, reacted first, her quick-thinking kicking in. “Oh, Sullin-ssi means we’re always preparing something big!” she said with a bright laugh, leaning into the mic to smooth over the slip.

“But nothing’s set yet, right? We’re just excited to keep working!” Other members chimed in, their voices overlapping in a practiced dance of deflection, joking about their busy schedules and teasing Sullin gently to shift the focus.

Sullin nodded, her face flushing as she realized her mistake, her hands fidgeting under the table, but the damage was done.

The broadcast continued, the host tactfully moving on, but time couldn’t be rewound. As soon as the segment ended, the news spread like wildfire. Social media platforms lit up with screenshots and clips of Sullin’s accidental spoiler, fans speculating wildly about the “next month” comeback, while the company’s PR team scrambled to craft a response.

=========================

scene:

The late afternoon sun cast a golden haze over the parking lot outside the broadcast studio, its light glinting off the sleek black van as you opened the passenger door for Sullin.

Her earlier mistake during the live radio broadcast—blurting out the unannounced comeback schedule—had sent shockwaves through the team, forcing her to return to the agency office separately from the other members.

As manager, you’d been tasked with escorting her, a duty that felt heavier than usual given the weight of her error.

Sullin stepped into the van, her movements slow, her usual quiet resilience overshadowed by a palpable tension. She clutched her phone, the language-learning app that had been her lifeline now a silent reminder of her struggle with Korean.

You closed the door gently and circled to the driver’s seat, the memory of your boss’s curt message ringing in your ears:

“Sullin’s on her second warning. Bring her to the office.”

The words carried a cold finality, a reminder of the agency’s strict expectations and the consequences Sullin now faced.

You settled into the driver’s seat, the leather creaking softly, and glanced at Sullin. She sat rigidly beside you, her fingers twisting the hem of her oversized sweater, her almond-shaped eyes fixed on her lap.

The tension in her posture—shoulders hunched, jaw tight—as if she were bracing for the fallout of her mistake.

You fastened your seatbelt, the click breaking the silence, and spoke gently but firmly. “Sullin-ssi, I’m taking you to the agency office, okay?” Your voice was calm, meant to reassure, but the weight of the situation hung between you.

She nodded, her head still bowed, her voice barely audible. “Ne,” she murmured, the single Korean syllable soft and subdued, her accent normally endearing, now carried a tremor of fear, and the sight of her—so small, so vulnerable—tugged at something in you, a mix of sympathy and frustration.

You hesitated, then added, “You’re on your second warning, Sullin-ssi. There’s likely going to be some kind of consequence.” You kept your tone even, careful not to sound harsh, but the truth needed to be said.

Sullin didn’t respond, her head sinking lower, her fingers tightening on the hem of her sweater until her knuckles paled. The silence that followed was heavy, filled only by the faint hum of the van’s engine as you started it, the sunlight glinting off the dashboard.

You stole another glance at her, noting the way her shoulders trembled slightly, the weight of her error pressing down on her. Her struggle with Korean, her reliance on her app, and her earnest desire to belong in tripleS made her mistake all the more painful—a misstep born of inexperience, not malice.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, the city streets unfolding under the fading sunlight, your mind churned. Sullin’s mistake had disrupted the group’s carefully planned comeback, but it also echoed the fragility of your own position.

The van moved through the bustling city, the sunlight softening into a warm orange as evening approached, and the silence between you and Sullin grew heavier. You wanted to say something, to ease her fear, to remind her that mistakes didn’t define her, but the weight of your role—manager, confidant, keeper of secrets—kept you quiet.

.

The van rolled into the agency’s underground parking lot, the hum of the engine fading into a heavy silence as you parked under the dim fluorescent lights.

Her accidental spoiler about tripleS’s comeback had set off a firestorm, and now, with her second warning looming, the agency office awaited—a place of judgment that felt all too final.

You sat beside her, the creak of the leather seats the only sound as you unbuckled your seatbelt, your hand reaching for the door handle.

But before you could open it, Sullin’s voice broke the silence, soft but startling in its clarity.

“나 알아요,” she said in Korean.

The words mean 'I know' made you freeze. You turned to face her, your brow furrowing as you registered her tone. She sat hunched in the passenger seat, her fingers still twisting the hem of her sweater, her head bowed, avoiding your gaze.

“What's that, Sullin-ssi?” you asked, your voice low, a mix of confusion and unease creeping in.

Her expression unreadable as she hesitated, then spoke again, her Korean slow and deliberate, pieced together with effort.

“I know… your secrets with other members,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, but firm and understandable.

“Seoyeon-unnie, Chaeyeon-unnie, Sohyun-unnie… and others.” The names hit you like a shockwave, each one a piece of the carefully guarded web.

Your heart raced, the air in the van suddenly stifling, “Secrets? What are you talking about, Sullin-ssi?” you asked, your tone sharper now, though you tried to keep it steady, hoping to deflect.

But Sullin’s next words cut through your pretense, blunt and unfiltered, her limited Korean making her accusation all the more jarring.

"You… you have sex with them, right?” she said, her voice low but direct, her eyes flicking up to meet yours for a brief, piercing moment before darting away again.

The question hung in the air, raw and undeniable, and your eyes widened, a cold sweat prickling at the back of your neck.

“How did you know that?” you demanded, your voice rising despite your effort to stay calm.

“Sullin-ssi, how did you know that?!” You reached out, your hand gripping her shoulder gently but firmly, urgency driving your words as panic began to take hold.

The secrets you’d guarded so carefully—moments you thought were hidden—had somehow reached Sullin, the least fluent member, whose bluntness could unravel everything.

She didn’t answer immediately, her gaze fixed on her lap, her fingers tightening on her sweater. Then, in a quieter voice, she spoke, her words a mix of Korean and careful negotiation.

“I’ll tell you… but help me, please. I don’t want punishment.” Her eyes flicked up again, pleading now, her vulnerability clashing with the boldness of her earlier accusation.

You exhaled heavily, leaning back in the driver’s seat, your mind racing. The audacity of her bargaining caught you off guard—Sullin, with her halting Korean and earnest demeanor, was leveraging your secrets to escape the consequences of her own mistake.

“Sullin-ssi, I don’t have the power to decide that,” you said, your voice strained but honest. “The agency makes those calls, not me.”

“But you can try, right, Manajer-nim?” she countered, her tone insistent, her eyes searching yours. “You said you’re reliable. You help us.” Her words echoed your own assurances, the promises you’d made to support the members, now twisted into a negotiation you hadn’t anticipated.

You rubbed a hand over your face, the weight of the situation pressing down. “Alright, alright,” you said, your voice low, conceding for now. “I’ll do what I can to make sure the punishment isn’t too harsh. But you have to tell me—who told you about this? How did you know?”

The fear gnawed at you, the possibility that your secrets had leaked, that Sullin’s tendency to speak without filter could expose them further, especially with her limited Korean making her unpredictable.

She shook her head, her expression stubborn. “No, I want no punishment,” she said, her voice firmer now, her bargaining stance clear. “Then I tell.”

You leaned back against the seat, the leather creaking under your weight, your mind a storm of worry and frustration.

This couldn’t be ignored—your secrets, so carefully guarded, had somehow slipped through the cracks, reaching Sullin of all people.

The thought of her accidentally spilling "it", her bluntness turning a private truth into a public scandal, sent a chill through you, as you sat there, facing Sullin’s resolute gaze, you knew this confrontation was only the beginning of a deeper reckoning.

Sullin’s eyes flicked up, her expression a mix of determination and nervousness, and she spoke again, her voice low but sharp.

“Or… I tell the agency about your secrets?” Her Korean was unsteady, but the threat was unmistakable, each word landing like a blow. The implication hung heavy, a direct challenge that made your stomach lurch.

“Wait, no—don’t!” you blurted, turning to face her fully, your hand hovering in the air as if to physically stop her words. Panic surged, your mind racing for a way to regain control.

“Okay, let’s talk about this, Sullin-ssi,” you said, forcing your voice to steady, though your pulse pounded in your ears. You leaned back in the driver’s seat, the leather creaking under your weight, and took a deep breath, grasping for a solution.

“Here’s what I can do: I’ll go to the agency and tell them I’ve already spoken to you about the mistake. I’ll say you’re not in a good mental state to meet with them right now, so they won’t call you in immediately. How does that sound?”

Sullin’s brow furrowed, her fingers still twisting the hem of her sweater as she processed your offer. “I still get punishment?” she asked, her voice small but insistent, her eyes searching yours for reassurance.

“Maybe,” you admitted, choosing honesty to keep her trust, “but I’ll push for it to be as light as possible. I’ll negotiate so it’s not too harsh—something manageable. How about that?” You kept your tone calm, professional, though the fear of her knowledge gnawed at you, the possibility that her bluntness could spill your secrets to the agency or beyond.

She tilted her head, unconvinced. “You can’t make it… no punishment, Manajer-nim?” she pressed, her Korean halting but her intent clear, her negotiation skills sharper than you’d expected from someone still grappling with the language.

"Huft..." you sighed, frustration creeping in despite your effort to stay composed. “I can’t, Sullin-ssi. I don’t have that kind of authority. The best I can do is argue for a lighter punishment—maybe something standard, like a temporary phone restriction. That’s how it usually goes, right?" You met her gaze, willing her to understand the limits of your power, the reality of the agency’s strict hierarchy.

Sullin’s lips pursed, her eyes narrowing as she weighed your words, her silence stretching the tension in the van. “You can’t do more?” she asked, her voice softer now, but with a stubborn edge that tested your patience.

Your jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation breaking through your professionalism. “No, Sullin-ssi, I can’t,” you said, your tone firmer now, the urgency of the situation pushing you to confront the bigger issue.

“If you don’t want my help, you can negotiate with the agency yourself. But I need to know—where did you hear about my secrets? Who told you?” The question burned, the fear that your carefully guarded secrets had leaked to Sullin, of all people, fueling your desperation.

Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to respond, but her words took a dangerous turn. “Okay, then I tell the agency about your—” before she could finish, you reacted instinctively, your hand shooting out to cover her mouth, stopping her mid-sentence.

The sudden movement startled her, her eyes flashing with surprise as she froze, your hand pressed gently but firmly against her lips.

“Please,” you said, your voice low, almost pleading, the panic now raw in your tone. “I can’t make the punishment disappear, Sullin-ssi. I can only try to make it lighter. But you have to tell me—how do you know about this? Who told you?” You pulled your hand back slowly, your breath uneven, the weight of the confrontation heavier than you’d imagined.

Negotiating with Sullin, with her limited Korean and unexpected tenacity, was proving far more challenging than you’d anticipated, her bluntness a double-edged sword that could cut through your carefully constructed facade.

Sullin’s hand suddenly moved to your thigh, her fingers brushing lightly, then stroking with a deliberate slowness that sent a jolt through you.

“I just don’t want to be punished, Manajer-nim,” she said, her voice soft but laced with a calculated edge, her Korean halting but clear.

Her touch lingered, unsettling and intimate, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, a mix of nervousness and determination in her gaze.

“About your secrets… I won’t tell anyone,” she added, her words a promise that felt more like a bargaining chip, the gentle caress of her hand on your thigh amplifying the tension.

“Sullin-ssi, I’m dead serious,” you said, your voice low but firm, trying to ignore the strange warmth of her touch, the way it stirred unease and something else you didn’t want to name.

“I need to know—where did you hear about this? Who told you?” Your tone was urgent driving your insistence.

Sullin bit her lower lip, her expression shifting as if a thought had struck her, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Your offer… about talking to the agency, making my punishment lighter,” she said, her voice steady now, her accent softening the words but not their weight. “I’ll accept it. But about your secrets, Manajer-nim… you have to agree to one more request.”

Her hand continued its slow, deliberate stroke, creeping higher on your thigh, dangerously close to your groin, the familiarity of the gesture sending a chill down your spine—a pattern you’d felt before, with others, in moments that had blurred the lines of your role.

You frowned, your body tensing under her touch. “What’s that?” you asked, your voice tight, a sense of déjà vu creeping in, flickering in your mind.

Before she answered, Sullin’s hand moved higher, her fingers brushing the zipper of your pants, a bold, unmistakable advance.

“Sullin-ssi!” you protested, your voice sharp, your hand instinctively reaching to stop her, but she held your gaze, undeterred, her touch growing more confident.

“Ah, ah, ah,” she said, her tone teasing but firm, cutting you off as her fingers began to tug at the zipper, the sound sharp in the quiet van.

“This is my request, Manajer-nim.” Her words were a challenge, her eyes locked on yours, a mix of vulnerability and audacity that caught you off guard.

Your cock still soft but startled by her touch, twitched faintly, a reluctant pulse of arousal stirring despite your shock and the alarm bells ringing in your head.

“Sullin-ssi, this isn’t—” you started, your voice strained, but the words faltered as her fingers continued their work, the zipper lowering with a slow, deliberate rasp.

The sensation was jarring, a mix of unease and unwanted heat, your body betraying you even as your mind screamed to stop. A pattern you hadn’t meant to repeat but couldn’t seem to escape.

Your hand hovered over hers, torn between pulling her away and letting her continue, the fear of her knowledge, her threat to tell the agency, warring with the professional boundaries you’d already shattered.

“Sullin-ssi, please,” you said, your voice low, almost pleading, but her touch didn’t waver, her fingers brushing against you now, coaxing a response you couldn’t fully suppress.

Her fingers still wrapped around your cock, stroking slowly, her touch light but purposeful, coaxing a response you couldn’t fully suppress.

She murmured something in Thai,

"อันนี้สะอาดเว่อร์!"

Her voice soft and melodic, the unfamiliar words slipping past your understanding but carrying a tone that felt like admiration, perhaps commenting on your shape or size.

Her eyes flicked down, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement, and then, with a gentle tug, she eased back the foreskin, revealing the flushed head of your cock.

A soft giggle escaped her lips, her expression brightening as if she found it endearing, a stark contrast to the gravity of the situation.

“Sullin-ssi…” you groaned, your voice low and strained, a mix of protest and involuntary response as her hand continued its slow, teasing rhythm. The sensation was overwhelming, her touch stirring a pulse of arousal despite the alarm bells ringing in your head.

Sullin released her seatbelt with a soft click, her movements fluid and confident, her hand never leaving you. She stood briefly, leaning across the driver’s seat to reach the door locks, her body brushing against yours as she pressed the button.

A sharp click echoed in the van, the sound of the doors locking sealing the moment in a private, suffocating bubble. Her grip on your cock remained firm, her fingers still stroking, and she settled back into the passenger seat, her eyes meeting yours with a sweet, almost innocent smile that belied the boldness of her actions.

“Sullin-ssi,” you said again, your voice a hoarse plea, your hand hovering uncertainly, torn between stopping her and succumbing to the heat building within you.

She giggled again, the sound light and disarming, and resumed her slow, deliberate strokes, her fingers gliding with a rhythm that made your breath hitch. Your cock twitched under her touch, hardening despite your resistance, a betrayal of your body that deepened the panic gnawing at you.

“좋아?” Sullin asked, her voice soft but tinged with a playful confidence, her Thai accent softening the Korean words.

The question hung in the air, a challenge you couldn’t answer, your breath hitching as you tilted your head back against the headrest, the leather creaking under your weight.

The pleasure was overwhelming, your cock now fully erect, throbbing under her touch, but the weight of the situation kept you silent, torn between surrender and resistance.

Before you could process further, Sullin reached across you, her body brushing against yours as she adjusted the driver’s seat.

With a quick tug, she reclined it fully, the sudden motion dropping you backward until you were nearly lying flat, your body exposed and vulnerable.

The shift startled you, your hands gripping the armrests as the van’s interior seemed to tilt.

She paused, her hand still wrapped around your cock, and gathered her hair with her free hand, tying it into a quick, messy ponytail that swayed as she moved. The gesture was practical but intimate, a sign of her intent to escalate further.

“Sullin-ssi…” you murmured, your voice a hoarse mix of protest and involuntary arousal, but she didn’t respond, her focus shifting as she leaned forward.

Her lips brushed the tip of your cock, a fleeting warmth that made you gasp, and then her tongue darted out, licking slowly, deliberately, tracing the sensitive head with a teasing precision.

The sensation was electric, her mouth hot and wet, and you squeezed your eyes shut, only to open them again, unable to look away. Her head moved up and down, her lips sliding along your length, each motion sending shivers through you, your hips twitching involuntarily as pleasure overtook your senses.

You hadn’t expected this—not with Sullin, the quiet Thai member whose language struggles had defined her presence in tripleS. Her boldness now, so different from her usual shy demeanor, caught you off guard, you hadn’t meant to repeat this pattern but now seemed powerless to stop.

Her tongue swirled, her hand stroking in tandem, and you groaned, your head falling back as the pleasure built, your body betraying the panic still gnawing at your mind. Her ponytail swayed with each movement, her eyes occasionally flicking up to meet yours, a silent assertion of control that both thrilled and terrified you.

Her knowledge of your secrets, her threat to tell the agency, hung over you like a shadow, but her touch, her audacity, pulled you deeper into the moment, a dangerous bargain you hadn’t anticipated.

“Sullin-ssi…” you groaned again, your voice barely audible, her mouth and handheld you captive, her request a demand you couldn’t fully resist, and as the pleasure mounted, you knew this moment would only complicate the web of secrets you carried.

She pulled back briefly, her lips glistening, her eyes meeting yours with a mix of playfulness and control. “You brought condom, Manajer-nim?” she asked, her voice soft but direct, her Thai accent softening the Korean words as she resumed licking the tip of your cock, her hand stroking in tandem.

Your breath hitched, the question catching you off guard. “I—I forgot,” you admitted, your voice strained, glancing down at her, the dim light highlighting the curve of her ponytail and the intensity in her gaze. The admission felt reckless, a reminder of how unprepared you were for this moment, yet the pleasure she was drawing from you clouded your judgment.

She paused, her lips hovering over you, and tilted her head. “You can… pull out, right?” she asked, her tone teasing but practical, before returning to her task, her mouth enveloping you again, the suction growing more intense, more deliberate. The sensation was overwhelming, her tongue swirling with a precision that made your head spin, your resolve weakening with each passing second.

“Sullin-ssi…” you groaned, your hand instinctively moving to her head, fingers tangling in her ponytail as you guided her pace, urging her faster. The wet heat of her mouth, the slick mix of your precum and her saliva, sent shivers through you, your hips twitching as the pleasure built.

She pulled back with a soft pop, her hand still stroking you, keeping you on edge. She shifted in the passenger seat, her movements quick and decisive, and began to slide off her underwear, keeping her skirt in place.

For a brief moment, you caught a glimpse of her pussy—slightly shadowed, a faint trace of hair, glistening faintly in the dim light—before her skirt fell back, concealing it. The sight was fleeting but electrifying, stirring a fresh wave of desire despite the panic gnawing at you.

“우리 빨리 놀자” she said, her voice low, a mix of command and mischief, a clear 'we play quick'

She climbed onto your lap, straddling you in the reclined driver’s seat, her hands bracing on your chest for balance, she positioned herself above you, her skirt hiding the act but not the intent.

She reached down, guiding your cock to her entrance, and you felt the warm, slick brush of her pussy lips against you, a sensation so vivid it made you gasp.

Slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself, your cock sliding into her inch by inch, her warmth enveloping you without the barrier of a condom.

The sensation was raw, intense, her pussy tight and slick, gripping you as she settled onto you. Her hands pressed against your chest, steadying herself, while your hands found her hips, gripping the fabric of her skirt to help guide her.

She moaned softly, "Ahh~" her eyes fluttering closed for a moment, her ponytail swaying as she adjusted to the feeling. “Sullin-ssi…” you murmured, your voice a mix of awe and strain.

She is riding quickened, her hips rolling faster, more urgent, the rhythm sending waves of pleasure through you. She leaned closer, her face inches from yours, her breath hot and ragged, her eyes half-lidded with unbridled desire.

Her lips crashed against yours, a hungry, desperate kiss that silenced the protests in your mind. Your tongues met, tangling in a heated dance, the taste of her—sweet, urgent—fueling the fire between you, each kiss deepening the raw connection of your bodies.

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her closer, your hands gripping her waist as you thrust upward, matching her rhythm, your cock driving deeper into her. Her moans, muffled against your lips, grew sharper, her nails digging into your shoulders as she rode you with abandon.

The intensity built, relentless, the slick sounds of your bodies moving together filling the van. Sullin broke the kiss, gasping, her head tilting back as her movements grew erratic, her pussy clenching tightly around you. “좋아... 좋아... ” she panted, she liked this, her voice a breathless moan, her Korean barely audible as she chased her release.

Her body trembled, and with a soft cry, she came, her pussy pulsing around you, her hips grinding down as waves of pleasure overtook her. The sight of her—flushed, lost in ecstasy, her ponytail swaying wildly—pushed you to the edge.

“Sullin-ssi…” you groaned, your voice strained, the climax surging within you.

Remembering her earlier request, you acted quickly, your hands gripping her hips to lift her off you. Your cock slipped free, slick with her arousal, and you came with a shuddering gasp, your release erupting in thick spurts.

The first pulse hit her lower back, streaking across her skin, while more landed on the hem of her skirt and the curve of her ass, glistening in the dim light.

The sheer volume surprised you, a testament to the intensity of the moment, your body trembling as you leaned back against the seat, breathless and spent.

Sullin collapsed against you, her chest heaving, her breath hot against your neck as she caught her own breath.

The van was silent save for your shared panting, the creak of the seat, and the faint hum of the parking lot’s lights. The dim glow exposed the aftermath—her skirt hiked up, your release marking her skin, the locked doors a reminder of the secrecy that bound you.

=========================

aftermath:

The agency’s conference room was a tense. You stood before a panel of agency executives, their expressions a mix of stern focus and measured curiosity.

The weight of the morning’s events pressed heavily on you: her accidental spoiler during the live radio broadcast, her shocking revelation about your secrets, the intimate encounter that had followed in the van. Each moment had left you on edge, but now, as manager, you had to channel that turmoil into professionalism, advocating for Sullin as you’d promised while guarding the secrets that threatened to unravel everything.

You adjusted your tie, clearing your throat as you began, your voice steady despite the nerves simmering beneath.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” you said, addressing the executives, their eyes fixed on you. “

I’m here to discuss Sullin-nim's mistake during the radio broadcast this morning. As you know, she inadvertently revealed the comeback schedule, which has caused some challenges. However, I believe this situation can be turned into an opportunity.”

The executives exchanged glances, their silence prompting you to continue. You leaned into the strategy you’d outlined to Sullin, the one you’d hoped would soften her consequences.

“Sullin-nim's spoiler, while unplanned, has already generated significant buzz online,” you explained, your tone confident but measured.

“Fans are speculating, and the attention is driving engagement. With the marketing team’s expertise, we could leverage this as a teaser campaign—release cryptic hints, build anticipation, and frame the leak as a deliberate spark to ignite interest. It could position the comeback as even more impactful.”

You paused, gauging their reactions, then pressed on, addressing the heart of your promise to Sullin.

“As for Sullin-ssi herself, I strongly recommend leniency. She’s still adapting to the language and the industry’s nuances, having only studied Korean for two months before joining. Her mistake was unintentional, a result of her inexperience, not negligence. She’s deeply remorseful and committed to improving. I believe a harsh punishment would hinder her growth and affect her mental health, which could impact the group’s dynamic. If a consequence is necessary, I suggest something light—perhaps a temporary restriction on solo media appearances, paired with additional language training to support her.”

The room fell silent. The executives exchanged looks, their expressions unreadable, but you knew your reputation as a manager—professional, reliable, with a track record of navigating the group’s complexities—carried weight.

Your words, carefully chosen, were a blend of strategy and empathy, a reflection of the balance you’d learned to strike in a role tangled with secrets and responsibilities.

The head executive, a stern woman with a reputation for pragmatism, leaned forward, her fingers steepled.

“You’re suggesting we turn a mistake into a marketing opportunity,” she said, her tone neutral but probing. “And you’re vouching for Sullin-nim, despite this being her second warning. Your performance as manager has been commendable, so we’ll take your perspective seriously. But why such leniency? Is there more to this?”

Your heart skipped, the memory of Sullin’s hand on your thigh, her lips on you, her knowledge of your secrets flashing through your mind. You kept your expression neutral, a skill honed through months of managing crises and concealing truths.

“It’s about the group’s long-term success,” you replied smoothly. “Sullin-nim's potential is immense, and with the right support, she’ll grow into a vital asset. Punishing her harshly now risks breaking her confidence, which could affect tripleS’s unity, especially with the comeback approaching.”

After a moment of deliberation, the executives nodded, their murmurs signaling agreement. The head executive spoke again.

“Very well. We’ll refrain from punishing Sullin-nim this time, given your recommendation and her circumstances. We’ll also instruct the marketing team to explore your idea of leveraging the spoiler for the comeback campaign. But we expect you to ensure she receives additional language training and guidance to prevent further incidents.”

Relief washed over you, though it was tempered by the lingering weight of Sullin’s leverage. “Thank you,” you said, bowing slightly.

“I’ll oversee her progress personally and ensure the team is aligned for the comeback.” The executives dismissed you with a nod, and you left the room, the sunlight streaming through the hallway a stark contrast to the dim parking lot where the deal had been struck.

As you stepped into the corridor, the memory of Sullin’s touch—her bold advance, her whispered promises—resurfaced, along with the fear of how she’d learned your secrets.

The relief of securing her leniency was overshadowed by the new secret you now shared with her, another thread in the web with the others.

The agency’s trust in you, your professional facade, felt more fragile than ever, and as the sunlight warmed your face, you knew this victory came at a cost—a precarious balance that could tip with Sullin’s next move, under the unrelenting pressure of tripleS’s dazzling but unforgiving world.

[mineganoe]

Hi author! love the SSS series! are we getting a part 3 for secret sss story?

hi there! im scheduled for sss series to released once per week, and part 3 is coming out soon, glad to received some feedback! thanks a lot!

[mineganoe]

Loved Or Loving (bonus part 1)

tripleS Chaeyeon (ft. Jiwoo)

bonus part 1: aftermath & chaeyeon's back story words: 3.5k

link for part 1:

Love Or Loving (part 1)

====================

The school day unfolded as usual, lessons flowing by—your physics teacher droned on about Newton’s laws, your notebook filled with scribbled formulas, and the occasional noise from the corridor seeping into the classroom.

You sat in class, your thoughts mostly fixed on Shion, her smile at the gate this morning, and the Sunday nights that had become your ritual. The past two months with her felt like a cozy dream, brimming with warmth and passion.

Chaeyeon, who once dominated your mind with wild fantasies about her toys, was now a faint memory, a shadow no longer relevant. Or so you thought.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, in the quiet hallway behind the laboratory building, Chaeyeon stood with a commanding yet alluring presence.

Her hair was neatly tied, her uniform slightly crumpled at the sleeves, but her aura remained captivating—a blend of the popular senior’s charisma and something darker, more secretive.

In front of her, a male student—nerdy, thick glasses, flushed face, and a disheveled uniform—looked nervous, his hands trembling as he tried to straighten his clothes.

“Enough, don’t go too far!” Chaeyeon snapped, pushing him back with a swift but controlled motion after his hands groped her chest and his lips hungrily kissed her neck.

Her voice was sharp, but there was a calculated coldness, as if she was used to situations like this. The student flinched, stepping back, his face pale with a mix of guilt and fear.

Chaeyeon pulled a small mirror from her skirt pocket, checking her neck with an annoyed expression. There, where he had kissed her, was a clear red mark—a hickey that couldn’t be hidden.

“Hickey, extra charge, 30,000,” she said, her voice flat, like she was collecting a routine debt. Her eyes locked onto the student with a stare that left no room for negotiation.

“S-sorry, Chaeyeon-ssi. I… I got carried away, b-but I don’t have that much money right now,” the student stammered, his hands rubbing his neck as if it could erase his guilt. “I… I’ll pay tomorrow, I swear!”

Chaeyeon narrowed her eyes, weighing his words. She leaned in slightly, making the student even more nervous. “Hmm, fine,” she said finally, her voice softening but laced with a veiled threat.

“Since you’re a good kid, tomorrow it is. But if you don’t pay, I’ll track you down, go to your house, and tell your parents.” Her smile was cold, but her lips curved with a charm that made her threat all the more intimidating.

“Y-yes, Chaeyeon-ssi, I promise, thank you!” the student blurted, hastily adjusting his slipping glasses, his face still red. He nearly tripped as he turned, hurrying out of the hallway.

“Go on, get lost,” Chaeyeon said, waving him off with a lazy hand gesture, then checked her neck in the mirror again.

She sighed, pulling a thin scarf from her bag and wrapping it around her neck to hide the hickey as if nothing had happened. But beneath her cold, transactional demeanor, there was something more complex—perhaps necessity, perhaps power, or perhaps just her way of surviving in this world.

Chaeyeon walked back to the main corridor, her steps confident, though her eyes occasionally scanned her surroundings, ensuring no one had seen.

Midday sunlight slipped through the windows, illuminating Chaeyeon’s desk, covered in abstract doodles scrawled in her notebook. In the classroom, the lesson felt monotonous. The history teacher droned on about the Joseon dynasty, their voice echoing in a room filled with students only half-listening.

She sat at the back, her uniform neat but the thin scarf around her neck slightly askew, nearly revealing the hickey she’d concealed that morning. Her face was calm, but her eyes betrayed deep boredom—this lesson, the school routine, all of it felt like a tiring loop.

Chaeyeon let out a soft sigh "Huft...", her hand slipping into her skirt pocket to grab her phone. She glanced at the teacher, ensuring no one was watching, then unlocked the screen with a quick swipe.

A notification lit up, and as she opened it, her eyebrow twitched slightly. A 200,000 won transfer had just hit her account, from a contact saved vaguely as “Client 3.” Alongside it was a brief message: “Saturday night, usual place.”

Chaeyeon stared at the message for a moment, her expression unreadable. This man wasn’t new, he was one of her regular “clients,” someone older, likely an office worker, who always booked her for weekends.

The “usual place” was a cheap motel on the city’s outskirts, with red neon lights out front and rooms that smelled of disinfectant.

Chaeyeon knew what was expected of her there—touches, kisses, and sometimes more, depending on the agreed price. It wasn’t about love or passion for her, but about control, money, and a way to fill the empty gaps in her life.

She sighed again, heavier this time, then typed a curt reply: “Okay.” The message sent, she slipped the phone back into her pocket, her eyes returning to the blackboard as if nothing had happened. But in her mind, thoughts churned.

The money would cover her bill, monthly expenses, new phone, or maybe a new toy, or so, like the one she bought two months ago at the supermarket—a moment that suddenly resurfaced, when you stared at her in shock at the checkout. She brushed the memory away quickly, refocusing on reality.

Chaeyeon leaned back in her chair, her fingers toying with the scarf’s edge. She knew Saturday night would be long, as usual. The man would arrive with the same lust, perhaps droning on about his boring job, and Chaeyeon would play her part perfectly—cool, captivating, and in control.

But beneath her steely demeanor, she guarded something tightly, a creeping exhaustion, questions about what she was doing and why she chose this path. As always, she buried those thoughts deep, focusing instead on the next step, the next payment, the control she held so fiercely.

The lesson ended, the bell rang, and Chaeyeon packed her books with swift movements. She stepped out of the classroom, scarf covering her neck, her stride as confident as ever. But within her was a world no one saw—a world of transactions, secrets, and needs that kept her moving, night after night, behind the facade of the charismatic senior.

===================

Saturday night arrived.

The sky outside the cheap motel was dark, lit only by the flickering red neon sign out front. Inside one of the rooms, the scent of disinfectant mixed with Chaeyeon’s vanilla perfume and the faint musk of sweat.

The room was plain—a bed with slightly crumpled white sheets, a small mirror on the wall, and a fluorescent light casting a cold glow.

Chaeyeon lay on the bed, her body partially covered by a thin blanket up to her chest, her usually neat hair now disheveled, strands clinging to her pale face.

Tonight, she wasn’t herself—not vibrant, not engaging, just going through mechanical motions, complying with the man’s requests without the charm she typically exuded.

The man, middle-aged with a slightly wrinkled shirt, stood beside the bed, buckling his belt. He occasionally glanced at Chaeyeon, their session had just ended, but the room felt heavy with an uncomfortable silence.

Chaeyeon stared at the ceiling, her eyes vacant, then said in a soft but firm voice, “This is the last time. Don’t book me again.”

The man paused, his hands still on his belt, his face showing confusion. “Why?” he asked, his tone half-joking, half-probing. “Tired of being a whore?”

The words were harsh, but Chaeyeon didn’t react as she usually would—no cold smile, no sharp retort. She kept staring at the ceiling, and unnoticed, a single tear slid from the corner of her eye, trailing down her cheek.

“Yeah,” she replied curtly, her voice barely audible, laden with an exhaustion she could no longer hide. The word wasn’t just an answer but a confession—to herself, to the world she’d been navigating.

The man fell silent, his expression shifting from confusion to a flicker of pity. The Chaeyeon he knew was always friendly, compliant, professional—never dramatic or complaining. He sensed something different tonight, something deeper than a bad mood.

“Alright,” he said finally, his voice softer now, as he fastened the last button of his shirt. He nodded slightly, as if acknowledging that Chaeyeon was grappling with an inner weight she’d never shared.

He reached for his wallet, pulling out a few bills and placing them on the small table beside the bed. “100,000 extra,” he said, his tone flat but carrying a hint of empathy.

Chaeyeon turned her head, her wet eyes glancing at the money, then at him. Slowly, she sat up, the blanket still covering her, and took the bills with a trembling hand. “This…” she mumbled, her voice catching, unsure what to say.

The man looked at her for a moment, then said, “Consider it severance pay. If you want to change, change completely. Don’t do it halfway.” His words were simple but carried weight, like a gentle blow full of meaning. He didn’t wait for a response, he left the room, leaving Chaeyeon alone with her thoughts.

Chaeyeon clutched the money tightly, staring at it as if it were more than just paper but a reflection of everything she’d done. Tears fell again, more freely now, but she didn’t wipe them away.

She pulled the blanket closer, her body curling up on the bed, and for the first time in a long while, she let herself feel the weight of all the choices she’d made. She knew this wasn’t the end, but maybe, just maybe, it was the start of something new—if she could find the courage to take that step.

.

She took a deep breath, trying to gather herself, then reached for her phone on the small bedside table. Her fingers moved quickly, opening the contact labeled “Jiwoo” and hitting the call button.

Jiwoo is Chaeyeon’s closest friend, the only one at school who knew her dark secrets. They’d been friends since their first day, when they got lost in the corridors and ended up laughing together in the canteen.

With her warm yet firm nature, Jiwoo became Chaeyeon’s refuge, though she never fully understood why Chaeyeon chose this path—intimate transactions, cheap motels, clients who came and went. Jiwoo didn’t judge, never distanced herself or showed disgust, but behind her loyal demeanor was a quiet pity, an unspoken question:

"Why is she like this?"

-

The phone rang a few times before Jiwoo picked up.

“You at home?” Chaeyeon asked, her voice soft, almost fragile, though she tried to hide the tremor of her emotions. “I… I want to stay over at your place tonight.”

Jiwoo’s voice came through, slightly sleepy but full of concern. “What time is it?” she asked, her tone mixing worry with familiarity, as if used to late-night calls like this.

They paused, then Jiwoo sighed softly, a sound Chaeyeon recognized as her holding back a comment. “Where’ve you been? With a client?” Jiwoo asked, her tone blunt but not judgmental, just seeking the truth as always.

Chaeyeon looked down, staring at the blanket still covering her. She never hid anything from Jiwoo—there was no point, Jiwoo always knew. “Eum,” she replied curtly, her voice barely audible, heavy with a burden she couldn’t express right now.

Jiwoo sighed again, heavier this time. “Alright, come over. Don’t take too long,” she said, her voice still warm despite a hint of weariness. “I’m home, door’s unlocked.”

“Thanks, Jiwoo-ya,” Chaeyeon mumbled, her voice a bit steadier now. She ended the call, then rose from the bed, the blanket slipping to the floor.

She put on her clothes—a short skirt, a crumpled shirt, and the scarf to cover the hickey on her neck. The banknotes went into her small wallet, but they felt like carrying a stone.

She glanced at the motel room one last time, the mirror reflecting her tired face, then turned and left, her steps slightly lighter but still laden with questions.

Outside, the night air was cold, stinging her skin, still warm from the motel room. Chaeyeon pulled her scarf tighter, walking toward the nearest bus station to head to Jiwoo’s place.

She knew Jiwoo would be waiting, perhaps with warm tea and light jokes to make her smile. But tonight, Chaeyeon wasn’t just seeking shelter—she was searching for the courage to face herself, to decide if the man’s words— “change completely”—could become reality.

.

Chaeyeon slipped into Jiwoo’s house without knocking, their closeness making such formalities unnecessary. The house was still, the quiet of the night barely disturbed.

Jiwoo, living alone since losing her parents, had left the place as familiar as a second home to Chaeyeon.

She trudged upstairs to Jiwoo’s room, her steps heavy with the night’s burden.

As she raised her hand to knock, the door opened, and Jiwoo appeared, her hair slightly tousled from bed, her eyes alert despite the late hour.

“Door locked?” Jiwoo asked, her tone casual but tinged with concern.

“Um, yeah,” Chaeyeon replied, her voice faint, drained of its usual fire.

Jiwoo leaned in, her nose wrinkling as she caught the sharp scent of sex clinging to Chaeyeon—a smell she loathed. “God, you stinks! Shower first!” she said, her voice firm but not harsh, gesturing toward the bathroom down the hall.

“Ne,” Chaeyeon muttered, her response weak, almost lifeless. She shuffled toward the bathroom, her posture slouched.

Jiwoo watched, her brows knitting together. Something was wrong. Chaeyeon usually returned from clients with a defiant spark, shrugging off the grim reality of her work with a grin and promises like, “I’ll treat you tomorrow!”

But tonight, that energy was gone, replaced by a hollow stillness. Jiwoo’s chest tightened. “What’s up with you? Client gets rough?” she asked, her voice softening, worry creeping in.

Chaeyeon shook her head, staring at the floor, silent. Then, abruptly, she turned and threw her arms around Jiwoo, clinging tightly.

“I want to stop,” she whispered, her voice cracking as tears spilled out. Her body shook with sobs, the weight of her confession pouring out.

Jiwoo stiffened briefly, caught off guard by Chaeyeon’s raw vulnerability. She’d seen her cry before, but never like this—never with such desperate resolve.

Normally, when Jiwoo urged her to quit, Chaeyeon would brush it off with a playful, “Oh, come on, I’ll still treat you!” But this time, Chaeyeon wanted to stop, driven by her own will.

Without a word, Jiwoo returned the embrace, her arms wrapping around Chaeyeon firmly, letting her sob into her shoulder.

The hallway was silent, save for the faint ticking of a downstairs clock and Chaeyeon’s muffled cries. Jiwoo held her, her heart aching but her presence steady.

She didn’t press for explanations, didn’t need to. Chaeyeon’s words were enough—a crack in the facade she’d worn so long. Jiwoo’s hands gently rubbed Chaeyeon’s back, a hope that with Jiwoo’s unwavering support, she might find the courage to leave behind the life that had trapped her, one painful but determined step at a time.

After cleaning herself up in the bathroom, Chaeyeon emerged, her skin still damp from the shower, her hair tied loosely. She wore one of Jiwoo’s oversized t-shirts, the scent of sex and motel disinfectant replaced by the clean smell of soap.

Her steps were slow as she made her way to Jiwoo’s room, where the soft glow of a bedside lamp cast a warm light. Jiwoo was already there, sitting cross-legged on the bed, a mug of tea in her hands. She patted the space beside her, silently inviting Chaeyeon to sit.

Chaeyeon sank onto the bed, pulling her knees to her chest, her eyes distant. The weight of the night clung to her, even after the shower. Jiwoo didn’t push, just waited, her presence a steady anchor.

Finally, Chaeyeon spoke, her voice low, almost hesitant. “I told him… the client tonight. I said it’s the last time. I’m done.”

Jiwoo’s eyes softened, a flicker of pride crossing her face. “You really mean it this time, don’t you?” Her voice was gentle, encouraging, but she could sense there was more Chaeyeon wasn’t saying.

Chaeyeon nodded, her fingers twisting the hem of the t-shirt. “Yeah, I do. But…” She trailed off, her gaze dropping to the bed, her shoulders tensing. “There’s something else. It’s Donghoon.”

Jiwoo’s expression hardened slightly at the mention of Donghoon, Chaeyeon’s boyfriend. She knew the story—had known it for a while—and the name alone stirred a quiet anger in her.

“What about him?” she asked, her tone careful but edged with protectiveness.

Chaeyeon took a shaky breath, her voice trembling as she began to unravel the knot in her mind. “I don’t think I can just… walk away from him. Not because I don’t want to, but because of… that incident.”

Her eyes flickered with a mix of shame and fear; memories she’d buried resurfacing. “He’s got that video, Jiwoo. And he knows how to use it.” Jiwoo set her mug down, her full attention on Chaeyeon. She didn’t need to ask what Chaeyeon meant—she knew the story too well.

.

A year ago, Donghoon, a handsome basketball member club with sharp features and a charm that matched Chaeyeon’s type perfectly, had been one of her clients. Chaeyeon, struck by his looks, had offered him a discounted rate, a rare lapse in her usual business-like demeanor.

But Donghoon broke her rules. Without her knowledge, he recorded their encounter, capturing every moment of their intimacy. Afterward, he used the video as leverage, a subtle threat, be his girlfriend, or the footage would spread.

Since then, Donghoon got what he wanted—free access to Chaeyeon, not just as her “boyfriend” but under the constant shadow of his blackmail. Their relationship was a twisted mix of attraction, coercion, and fear.

“He’s still holding that over you?” Jiwoo asked, her voice low but firm, her hands clenching slightly. “Chaeyeon, we’ve talked about this. If he leaks that video, he’s screwed too. His face is in it, isn’t it? He’d be ruining himself just as much.”

Chaeyeon nodded, but her expression didn’t lighten. “I know, I know you’ve said that. And logically, yeah, it makes sense. But…” She pressed her palms to her eyes, as if trying to push away the thoughts swirling in her head.

“It’s not just about the video. It’s him. He’s got this… hold on me. He’s good-looking, yeah, and sometimes I feel like I’m stuck because I let myself fall for him at first. But it’s not love, Jiwoo. It’s like… I’m trapped. Every time I think about leaving, I see that video in my head, or I hear his voice, and I just… freeze.”

Jiwoo’s jaw tightened, but she kept her tone steady, reaching out to place a hand on Chaeyeon’s arm. “He’s manipulating you, Chaeyeon. That’s what he does. The video’s just a tool. You’re not trapped. You told a client tonight you’re done. That’s you taking control. You can do the same with Donghoon.”

Chaeyeon’s eyes glistened, tears threatening to spill again. “But what if I can’t? What if he does something? Edited the video? Blur his face out? I’m so screwed, tired, Jiwoo. I just want it all to stop—him, the clients, this… this life.” Her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

Jiwoo slid closer, wrapping an arm around Chaeyeon’s trembling frame. “You want to stop? Then we’ll make it happen. Donghoon’s not some untouchable king. We’ll figure out how to deal with him—together. Maybe confront him, maybe find a way to get that video. Whatever it takes. But you’re not stuck, Chaeyeon. Not anymore.”

Chaeyeon leaned into Jiwoo’s embrace, her tears soaking the t-shirt. For a moment, she let herself believe Jiwoo’s words—that she could break free, that Donghoon’s hold wasn’t unbreakable.

======================

[mineganoe]

Loved Or Loving (part 1)

tripleS Shion (ft. Chaeyeon) x male reader

words: 7.8k+

please read the aftermath and Chaeyeon's back story on bonus part here: Loved Or Loving (bonus part 1)

The sunset was fading, painting the sky orange at the end of the street. You and Shion walked side by side after school, as usual. She was talking about a romance novel she’d just read, her voice soft with her signature light giggle.

When you reached her house—a simple home with a small flower garden in the yard—Shion stopped and turned to you, her hair slightly tousled by the breeze.

“Wanna come in for a bit?” she asked, her eyes hopeful, a faint smile on her innocent face. There was a gentle tone in her voice, like she really wanted you to stay longer.

You shook your head gently, feeling a bit guilty. “Not today. I need to hit the supermarket. My little sister asked me to grab some snacks, and she’ll sulk all day if I don’t hurry,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Shion nodded, but her eyes couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Oh, okay… Be careful, then. See you tomorrow?” She bit her lower lip slightly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her uniform skirt.

“Yeah, see you,” you replied with a small smile, then turned to leave. As you walked away, you glanced back and saw Shion still standing by the door, watching you with an unreadable expression before she finally went inside.

At the supermarket, fluorescent lights lit up the aisles packed with shelves. You pushed a small cart, searching for your sister’s favorite snack—cheese-flavored potato chips that always disappeared in a day.

But as you passed the snack aisle, your eyes drifted to a staircase leading upstairs. There, a section was marked “Adults Only,” partially hidden by a sheer curtain. Curiosity crept in.

What was up there? Magazines? Weird products? You’d never gone up, but your imagination started running wild.

As you glanced upward, a familiar silhouette caught your eye. Someone was moving slowly between the shelves, their movements graceful yet confident.

Long hair tied back loosely, straight shoulders—and wait—was that Chaeyeon? Your heart skipped a beat. Chaeyeon-sunbae, the senior who always made you nervous, was in the adults-only section? She was holding something—maybe a bottle or a package—and casually placed it in her basket, as if it was no big deal.

You froze, half wanting to hide, half dying to know what she was buying. Your mind raced with questions: What was Chaeyeon doing there? And why, of all people, did it have to be her you ran into at a moment like this?

You tried to distract yourself from the image of Chaeyeon’s silhouette in there. Pushing your small cart, you focused on picking out snacks for your famil, potato chips for your sister, chocolate biscuits for your mom, and your dad’s favorite candies.

But Chaeyeon’s at upstairs kept creeping into your mind, making you wonder what she was buying. You shook your head, trying to brush off the nagging curiosity.

Done shopping, you headed to the checkout. The line was short, just one or two people ahead. As you started unloading your cart, a surprised voice broke your focus. “Hey, you?!”

You turned, and your heart skipped a beat. Chaeyeon stood in the next line, clutching her shopping basket tightly to her chest. Her slightly damp hair was tied back loosely, and for the first time, she looked… nervous.

Her face flushed, her eyes wide, clearly not expecting to see you here. “Chaeyeon-sunbae?” you replied, just as shocked.

She quickly looked down, shifting her basket to hide its contents, but the movement only piqued your curiosity. You caught a glimpse of what was inside, a bottle of vanilla-scented lotion, a box with a clear image of a dildo—similar to one you’d secretly seen in an online ad, and a small package that looked like a buttplug.

Your brain froze, trying to process what you’d just seen, "You… you’re buying that, sunbae?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, your voice low but filled with shock. Your face burned as you realized how bold the question was.

Chaeyeon stiffened, her face turning even redder. “N-no, it’s… it’s for my older sister!” she stammered, her voice shaky and her eyes avoiding yours. Her hesitant tone and panicked expression made the lie painfully obvious.

She bit her lower lip, then stepped closer, lowering her voice and admited. “Ye-yes... i'm buying these. Don’t tell anyone, okay?"

.

The sunset had given way to darkness, lit only by flickering streetlights along the sidewalk. You left the supermarket, carrying a plastic bag filled with snacks for your family.

Beside you, Chaeyeon walked a little faster than usual, gripping her shopping bag tightly to her chest as if hiding something. Her face still held a hint of the awkwardness from the checkout, but she tried to act casual, occasionally glancing at you.

You walk side by side with her together, her place is in the same direction, your steps in sync on the quiet sidewalk. At first, the only sounds were the rustle of plastic bags and the tap of your shoes.

You stole a glance at Chaeyeon—her loosely tied hair, her straight shoulders, and the bag she hugged like a guarded secret. Your mind flashed back to her basket’s goods. You quickly looked away, your face heating up.

“So… you and Shion, how long has it been?” Chaeyeon asked, breaking the silence. Her tone was casual, but there was a faint curiosity in her eyes.

“Uh, about a month or so,” you answered, slightly stumbling over your words. “We’re… you know, normal. We hang out at school, and I sometimes walk her home.”

Chaeyeon nodded, a small smile forming. “Shion’s sweet. She seems really genuine with you.” She paused, then added, “But… you like her, right? Like, really like her?”

Her question hit you like a small jab. You looked down at your shoes. “I… I do. Shion’s kind, caring, and… she makes me feel comfortable. But for some reason, it feels like something’s missing. Like I’m not completely sure.”

The words spilled out, more honest than you’d planned. Maybe it was Chaeyeon’s confident yet warm presence that made you feel safe enough to open up.

She glanced at you, her eyebrow slightly raised. “Huh, really?” she murmured, her voice soft but with an unreadable tone. “Honestly, I thought you’d be more… certain about your feelings.” She gave a small laugh, but there was something in her eyes—like she was weighing something.

You smiled wryly, feeling a bit called out but also curious. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, still clutching her bag tightly. “Nothing, just… sometimes we think we like someone because they’re nice, but our heart’s actually looking for something else. I’ve been there.” She paused, then added more quietly, “That’s why I’m saying, take care of Shion. Don’t hurt her just because you’re confused.”

Her words hung in the air, leaving you silent. You kept walking, but your mind was now filled with images of Shion—her innocent face, her genuine smile—and Chaeyeon, walking beside you with her secretive bag and words that somehow felt like a mirror to your own feelings.

When you reached the intersection where your paths split, Chaeyeon waved with a small smile. “Be careful on your way home. And… remember, don’t tell anyone about earlier,” she said, half-joking but with a serious look in her eyes.

You nodded, but as she turned away, you couldn’t help staring at her a little longer. Her shopping bag, her nervous demeanor, and your conversation left you with a confusing mix of feelings—guilt toward Shion, a growing attraction to Chaeyeon, and uncertainty about what you truly wanted.

note: bonus scene (chaeyeon solo play) at the end

=======================

Tomorrow.

The midday sun streamed through the school cafeteria windows, illuminating the table where you and Shion sat during break. Shion was across from you, holding a lunchbox filled with rice and homemade rolled eggs.

She beamed, her eyes sparkling as always, excitedly talking about the book club she’d just joined.

“I was thinking we could read a novel together, like that couple in the movie, you know?” she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her uniform.

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Sounds fun,” you said. But even with Shion right in front of you—her genuine kindness and innocent face that always put people at ease—your mind wasn’t fully there.

Since morning, Chaeyeon’s image had haunted you like a persistent fog. The supermarket encounter last night—her shopping basket, the vanilla lotion, the dildo, the buttplug kept replaying in your head, growing vivid as the day went on.

When Shion offered you a piece of rolled egg with her chopsticks, saying, “Try this, I made it myself!” you took a bite, nodding as you commented, “It’s really good, Shion.”

But in your mind, you saw Chaeyeon. You imagined her in her room, alone, with dim lighting and drawn curtains. You pictured the lotion coating her new toys, her graceful hands guiding the dildo with confident movements, her breath hitching, her toned body moving in an intimate rhythm. The image was so vivid, so real, that your face grew hot and your heart raced.

“Are you okay? Your face is red,” Shion asked suddenly, her brows furrowing with concern. She leaned toward you, her hand nearly touching yours on the table. “You’re not sick, are you?”

You quickly shook your head, forcing an awkward smile. “No, I’m just… a bit hot, I guess,” you lied, fanning your face to hide the guilt. Shion nodded, but her eyes lingered on you with curiosity, as if she sensed you were hiding something.

“Wanna come to the library later? I want to borrow a new book,” she asked, her voice soft but hopeful.

You nodded automatically, “Yeah, sure,” but your heart felt heavy.

Shion was right there, offering genuine care and warmth, yet your thoughts kept spiraling leaving you questioning: Could you truly stay loyal to Shion, or would your mind keep getting lost in the wild allure of your senior?

.

That afternoon, the sky glowed a soft orange as you and Shion walked to the school library. Shion led the way, her bag gently swaying on her shoulder, her long hair occasionally fluttering in the breeze.

Inside the library, she eagerly searched for the romance novel she’d mentioned at lunch, her fingers tracing the bookshelves with excitement. “Found it!” she exclaimed, proudly showing off a book with a pastel cover.

You smiled and nodded, but your mind was only half-present. The vivid images of Chaeyeon from earlier—wild fantasies about her new toys—lingered, making it hard to focus on Shion’s cheerful presence.

After borrowing the book, Shion suggested stopping by the same supermarket from yesterday. “I need to grab something for dinner. Come with me to supermarket, okay?” she said, her eyes full of hope.

Your way to supermarket not something you thinks about, Shion just blabbering about anything, what she like, what sports she's into about. But your mind still flew back to Chaeyeon, your imagination making Shion's not there with you.

The bright fluorescent lights and crowded aisles felt like déjà vu. While Shion busied herself picking vegetables in the produce section, your gaze kept drifting to the staircase leading upstairs—the adults-only aisle with its sheer curtain.

Your face grew hot, and you quickly looked back at Shion, who was now holding a bunch of spinach with a puzzled expression.

“This one or that one?” she asked, pointing at two bundles of greens. You pointed randomly, “That one,” trying to hide your nervousness.

At the checkout, Shion suddenly grabbed two ice cream sticks from the cooler. “My treat!” she said with a wide smile, handing you one.

You both decided to eat on the supermarket’s terrace, sitting on a small wooden bench facing the street. The evening breeze felt cool, and Shion chatted about her plans to start reading her new book tonight.

The chocolate ice cream in your hand began to melt, and you licked it while trying to focus on her words. But your mind wandered back to Chaeyeon—now with sharper details: her sweaty skin, her fingers guiding the toy in a seductive rhythm, her eyes possibly closed in pleasure. The image was so vivid that you barely noticed the ice cream dripping onto your chin.

“You’re making a mess,” Shion giggled softly. Before you could react, she pulled a tissue from her bag and carefully wiped your mouth.

Her fingers nearly brushed your skin, and her eyes met yours with genuine warmth. “What’s got you so distracted today? Your face is red again,” she teased, though there was a hint of worry in her voice.

You stammered, “Uh, nothing, just… thinking about homework,” lying as your face grew hotter. Shion nodded, but her expression suggested she wasn’t entirely convinced.

She went back to licking her ice cream, her hair falling to the side of her face, and for a moment, you were touched by her innocence, by the way she cared for you without expecting anything in return.

The touch of Shion’s tissue felt like a reminder: she was your girlfriend, the one who chose you. But the image of Chaeyeon, with her new toys and your increasingly uncontrollable fantasies, made you question: How could you balance this comfort with the burning desire in your mind? And more importantly, could you truly stay loyal to Shion, or would Chaeyeon remain an irresistible temptation you couldn’t shake?

.

The evening was creeping toward night, the sky outside Shion’s house a gradient of purple and orange. You walked side by side after leaving the supermarket, the sweetness of the ice cream still lingering on your tongue.

Shion chatted lightly about the novel she’d just borrowed, but you only responded with occasional hums. You tried to focus on Shion, but every time she smiled or accidentally brushed your hand, guilt pressed harder against your chest.

At her doorstep, Shion stopped and turned to you. “Come in for a bit,” she said, her voice soft but hopeful. Her eyes gazed at you with care, and she added, “You’ve been spacing out all day. I’ll make you some warm tea to help you relax.”

You shook your head, trying to decline politely. “No need, Shion. I should head home, it’s getting late.”

But Shion wasn’t giving up. She pouted slightly, her playful sulk always managing to weaken your resolve. “Come on, just for a bit. You look tired. My tea’s really good, I promise!” Her earnest tone was so sincere that before you could refuse again, she gently tugged your hand toward the door.

Inside, the warm aroma of cooking greeted you. Shion’s mother, a friendly woman in a floral apron, was busy in the kitchen.

“Oh, this is Shion’s boyfriend, right?” she said with a wide smile, making your face flush. Shion quickly cut in, “Mom, don’t embarrass him!”

She pulled you past the living room, straight to her room at the end of the hallway. “Wait here. I’ll make the tea. If we stay in the living room, Mom will keep asking questions,” she said with a giggle, leaving you alone in her room.

Shion’s room was small but cozy, with cream-colored walls and a bookshelf packed with romance novels. Her bed was covered with a pastel blanket, a small bunny plushie resting on the pillow. The faint scent of her sweet, floral perfume filled the air.

You sat on the edge of the bed, trying to calm yourself, but your thoughts drifted back to Chaeyeon. The image was so vivid—that you barely heard Shion’s footsteps returning.

“Here’s the tea,” she said, entering with a small tray holding two steaming cups. The jasmine-scented steam rose, calming the air.

She sat beside you, close enough that her knee nearly touched yours. “You’re really okay, right? You’ve been acting like something’s on your mind,” she asked, her brows furrowing with concern. She blew gently on her tea, watching you with attentive eyes.

You sipped the tea, trying to mask your nervousness. “Yeah, just… tired, maybe,” you lied again, but your voice lacked conviction. Shion nodded, but her gaze lingered, as if trying to read what you were hiding.

She set her cup down and gently took your hand. “If something’s up, you can tell me, you know. I’m your girlfriend,” she said, offering a small smile, though there was a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

Her touch was warm, genuine, and for a moment, guilt washed over you as your mind remained consumed by Chaeyeon—her wild body, the toys that now felt like a secret you shared with her. Shion was right there, giving you everything with an open heart, but your imagination kept pulling you elsewhere, to someone who wasn’t even yours.

Shion set her teacup on the small bedside table, her hands now clasped in her lap. She took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “You’re… really okay, right?” she asked again, her voice softer than before. “All day, it’s felt like you’re not fully here. Where’s your mind at?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but the words caught in your throat. Shion’s expression—her slightly furrowed brows, her pursed lips—made guilt weigh heavier on you. “I’m… just tired,” you lied, but your voice was weak, and you knew she wouldn’t buy it this time.

She looked down for a moment, her fingers twisting the hem of her uniform. Then, with a voice that trembled slightly, she said, “I know I’m probably not your type. I’m not… as pretty or as cool as other. But I’m serious about you. I just want to know… do you really like me? Or… are you only with me because you feel bad saying no back when i confessed to you?”

Her question cut like a knife, sharp and piercing the core of your confusion. You knew Shion deserved honesty, but the truth felt too tangled. “Shion, I… I do like you,” you said finally, your voice soft, but a hint of doubt lingered that you couldn’t hide. “You’re kind, genuine, and I’m happy with you. It’s just… I’m confused about my own feelings.”

Shion looked at you, her eyes glistening, but she forced a smile. “Confused how? Are you… not sure about continuing this?” She gestured between the two of you, her hand trembling slightly. “I don’t want to be a burden, you know. If you’re not all in, I’d… I’d rather we end it than you stay out of pity.”

Her words stung, tightening your chest. You saw the softness in her face, her hands now gripping the edge of the blanket, and for a moment, you wanted to hug her, to reassure her everything was fine. Guilt mixed with uncontrollable desire, and you fell silent, unsure how to respond.

“I just want you to be honest,” Shion added, her voice barely a whisper. “Whatever it is, I’ll accept it. But I don’t want us to pretend.”

She looked at you, waiting, and in that moment, her small room felt like a confessional, a place where you had to choose: Shion’s genuine warmth or the burning temptation of Chaeyeon that consumed your thoughts.

You took a deep breath, set the cup on the small table, and finally said, “Shion, I… I need to be honest. All day, my mind hasn’t just been on you. I’ve… I’ve been thinking about Chaeyeon-sunbae.”

The words came out with effort, each syllable lifting a weight from your chest. “It’s not that I don’t like you. You’re amazing, truly. But… I’m confused. I don’t know why she keeps filling my head.”

Shion went quiet for a moment, her eyes widening slightly, but there was no anger on her face. She looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the blanket’s edge, then nodded slowly.

“Thank you,” she said suddenly, her voice soft but steady. “Thank you for being honest with me.” You were stunned, expecting anger or tears, but Shion gave a small smile, though a hint of pain lingered in her eyes. “I know that wasn’t easy to say. I just want you to be happy, even if… maybe it’s not with me.”

Her words hit like a gentle blow, tightening your chest with a mix of guilt and admiration. Shion sighed, then, in a move you didn’t expect, she slipped off her uniform blazer. Her white dress shirt clung slightly to her body, highlighting her slender, graceful curves.

Her hair, previously tucked behind her neck, now looked slightly damp with sweat—perhaps from the warm afternoon or the tension of the moment. A few strands stuck to her neck, creating an unintentionally alluring sight—innocent, yet with a subtle charm that made your heartbeat faster.

She turned to you, unaware of the effect of her actions. “I’m not mad, really,” she continued, her voice calmer now. “I just want us both to be honest. If you like Chaeyeon-sunbae more, or if you just need time to think, I won’t force you to stay.”

She pulled her knees to her chest, hugging them, and looked at you with an expression full of understanding. “But if you want to try continuing with me, I promise I’ll give you my all.”

You looked at her, your chest tight with guilt and a desire to make things right. Without thinking, you reached for her shoulders, your fingers feeling the warmth of her skin through her thin shirt.

“Shion, I want to stay with you,” you said, your voice firm despite a tremble. “I don’t want to lose you. I mean it.” The words came from deep within, even as Chaeyeon’s image flickered in the corner of your mind.

Shion stared at you, her eyes widening briefly before she closed them, as if absorbing your words. Her breath hitched, and with slow, deliberate movements, her hands moved to her shirt’s buttons. One by one, she undid them, her trembling yet steady fingers revealing her pale, smooth skin and a simple white bra that hugged her slender frame.

“I know my body isn’t like Chaeyeon-sunbae’s,” she said, her voice low, almost a whisper, but brimming with unexpected courage. “I know I’m not as captivating as her, not curvy enough to turn heads. But… I’ll give you everything I have, if you want it.”

Her words hit like a blow—not because they were self-deprecating, but because of the raw sincerity behind them. She opened her eyes, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

Her body, though slender and understated, was so real in front of you—her skin faintly glistening with sweat, her damp hair clinging to her neck, her gaze hopeful yet fragile. There was a charm in her, she wasn’t trying to be anyone else; she was offering herself as she was, and it left you speechless.

Your hands still rested on her shoulders, feeling the warmth of her skin, but before you could speak, Shion took the lead. With a determined look, she stepped closer, her body nearly pressed against yours.

“I’m serious about you,” she whispered, her voice soft yet firm. Then, with a bold move, she gently pushed you down until you lay back on her bed. The pastel blanket felt soft against your back, and the sweet scent of Shion’s floral perfume filled the air.

Shion climbed onto the bed, straddling you, her knees on either side of your hips. Her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’d never seen before, then she leaned down, her lips meeting yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

Her lips were soft, warm, but there was an urgency in how she kissed, as if she was proving something—to you, or perhaps to herself. Her tongue brushed against yours, hesitant at first but growing more confident with each passing second. Her breath hitched, filling the space between you.

Your hands moved almost instinctively, sliding to her back, finding the clasp of her bra. As the kiss continued, heated and tender, you unhooked it, the white bra slipping away to reveal her small but beautiful breasts.

They fit perfectly in your hands, soft yet firm, her nipples already hardened, betraying her arousal. You touched her gently, your thumb circling her nipple, and Shion let out a soft moan into the kiss, her body trembling slightly.

Suddenly, you wanted to take control. With a swift movement, you sat up, startling Shion slightly. You sat up behind her, pulling her into your embrace from behind.

Her slender body felt warm in your arms, her fully unbuttoned shirt now hanging loosely on her shoulders. Your hands found her breasts again, cupping them gently but firmly, your fingers teasing her sensitive nipples.

Shion tilted her head, offering access to her neck, and you kissed the skin behind her ear, then trailed down to her neck, still slightly damp with sweat. Her scent—a mix of floral perfume and natural sweat—drove you deeper into the moment.

Your lips traced her neck, leaving a path of kisses that drew soft sighs from her, her hands gripping your arms as if seeking an anchor.

“I… I want you to be happy with me,” Shion whispered, her voice hoarse, thick with emotion and desire. Her body pressed back against you, her hips brushing yours, and you could feel the warmth radiating from her. The moment was intense, so real, yet in the corner of your mind, her body now open to you, demanded your full attention.

Suddenly, Shion turned, breaking your embrace. Her eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mix of desire, love, and a trace of lingering doubt. Her gaze was alluring, her lips slightly parted, her breath ragged.

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you into a kiss deeper than before. Her lips were hot, her tongue dancing with yours, full of urgency and courage that made you forget everything but her.

You stumbled onto the bed, your bodies collapsing onto the pastel blanket, your kiss unbroken, growing wilder, hungrier.

In the midst of the searing kiss, Shion pulled back briefly, her breath heavy in the now-heated air.

“Are you still thinking about Chaeyeon-sunbae, baby?” she asked, her voice husky, thick with emotion. The word “baby” slipped from her lips for the first time, soft yet loaded with meaning, making your heart lurch.

Chaeyeon’s image—the pink dildo, her body moving with passion, the moans you fantasized about—lingered in the corner of your mind, but Shion, with her slender body and open heart before you, demanded your full focus.

“No,” you answered, your voice firm, filled with a sudden conviction. “Right now, I only want you.” Your hands cupped her cheeks, pulling her back into a deeper kiss, your tongue exploring hers with raw desire.

Shion moaned softly into the kiss, her hands moving, tracing your chest, then sliding down to your pants. Her fingers felt the hardness of your straining cock through the fabric, and with a fluid, bold move you hadn’t expected, she unzipped your pants. Her warm hand slipped inside, freeing your throbbing cock, ready for her.

Her first touch made you catch your breath, the sensation of her soft yet firm fingers sending waves of pleasure through your body. Shion glanced at you, her eyes gleaming with a mix of passion and love, then kissed you again, her lips absorbing every moan that escaped your mouth.

You stared at her, still stunned by her courage, her hand so skilled despite this being your first time this intimate. “You’re good at this,” you said, your voice hoarse, half-joking to ease the tension. “Where’d you learn that?”

Shion gave a small smile, her face flushing, but a playful glint sparkled in her eyes. “Hhh… I watch a lot of porn,” she admitted, her voice soft but honest, with a nervous giggle. “You?”

“Same,” you replied, grinning widely, feeling an unexpected new bond between you. Your shared laughter broke the tension, but the passion in the air only grew stronger with each passing second.

Shion bit her lip, then, with a slightly hesitant but eager tone, said, “Wanna… watch some porn together?” Her eyes searched yours for approval, but the boldness in her gaze made it impossible to refuse.

“Sure,” you answered, your voice brimming with enthusiasm, surprised but intrigued by this new side of Shion. She smiled, a bit shy but clearly excited, and got up from the bed, her open shirt revealing her slender curves.

She walked to the desk in the corner, grabbing the tablet she usually used for studying. “When I’m bored of studying, I sometimes watch porn, hehe…” she said, giggling softly as she powered it on, her face red but full of honesty.

“Damn, I had no idea,” you teased, leaning back on the bed, watching her, still in disbelief. “I thought you were a true bookworm, just reading romance novels.”

She glanced back, setting the tablet beside the bed, and returned to your embrace with a mischievous smile. “I’m a bookworm, but… I’m human too, you know,” she said, her voice teasing but with a hint of challenge.

She opened a familiar site, the tablet screen displaying explicit video thumbnails that instantly sent your blood racing. Shion picked one—a passionate scene with a couple, soft moans already emanating from the tablet’s speakers.

You settled back on the bed, Shion leaning against your chest, her hand still on your cock, her movements now slower, as if syncing with the video’s rhythm.

You kissed her neck again, your hand slipping to her breast, teasing her still-hard nipple. The sounds from the video—moans, groans, and the rhythm of bodies moving—blended with your increasingly heavy breaths.

Shion, with her newfound boldness, her skilled touch, and her real, tangible body in your arms, pulled you fully into the moment. “You like this kind of stuff?” Shion whispered, her eyes flicking to the tablet, then to you, full of curiosity and a touch of teasing.

You smiled, kissing her lips briefly. “Love it, especially with you,” you replied, and for the first time, you felt that maybe Shion—with her innocence and this newly discovered wild side—could be more than just comfort, but also the passion you’d been craving.

Shion glanced at the tablet, her eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and boldness. The scene on the screen had shifted to a reverse cowgirl position—the woman on top, facing away from her partner, controlling the rhythm with confident movements.

“I want to try that,” Shion said, her voice husky, filled with desire but tinged with her characteristic nervous giggle. She pointed at the screen, then looked at you, seeking approval.

“Let’s do it,” you replied, grinning widely, your blood boiling with excitement and surprise at Shion’s wild side that kept unfolding. You never imagined the girl you once thought was just a bookworm could be so bold, so open.

Shion rose from the bed, her shirt slipping to the floor, leaving her slender body clad only in her uniform skirt. She walked to a small drawer in the corner wardrobe, pulling out a condom in a foil packet.

“I kept this… I don’t know, felt like I might need it,” she said, giggling softly, her face flushed but brimming with courage.

She returned to the bed, carefully tearing open the packet, she rolled the condom onto your hard cock. The warmth of her fingers made you groan softly, your body reacting intensely to her every touch.

Shion gave you a quick glance, a small smile on her lips, then stood on the bed, unfastening her uniform skirt. It fell to the floor, followed by her already-wet panties, revealing her slightly hairy pussy, glistening with arousal.

The sight made you catch your breath, your desire surging higher. Shion climbed over you, facing away as in the video, her position now aligned with the tablet still playing the heated scene.

With a trembling hand, she guided your cock, its tip brushing against her warm, slick pussy. She took a deep breath, then slowly lowered herself, taking you inside her.

The sensation was incredible—warm, tight, and deeply intimate. Shion let out a soft moan, her head tilting back, her long hair swaying as she began to move.

She followed the video’s rhythm, her hips rising and falling cautiously at first, finding her comfort, then growing more confident. Your hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements, her skin soft under your fingers. The moans from the tablet blended with Shion’s gasps, creating a symphony that set the room ablaze.

“You… feel so good,” Shion whispered, her breath ragged, her head turning slightly to meet your gaze, her eyes filled with love and lust. You could see her slender back, the curve of her hips moving.

Suddenly, Shion let out a louder moan, her body trembling. “I… I can’t hold on,” she gasped, her voice hoarse, a mix of innocence and raw desire.

Her hips slowed, her legs seeming to lose strength, and she collapsed back toward you, leaning against your body on the bed. Her warm frame pressed tightly against your chest, her small breasts soft against your skin, her ragged breaths hot near your neck.

Her pussy still gripped your cock, tight and pulsing, making it nearly impossible to restrain yourself.

You took control, your primal desire urging you to move. Your hands grabbed her hips, holding her in place, and you began thrusting from below, driving your cock into her pussy with a steady, forceful rhythm.

Each thrust drew louder moans from Shion, her head tilting back, her hair cascading over your face. “Oh… baby,” she gasped. Her pussy grew slicker, tighter, responding perfectly to your every move.

You quickened your pace, your hips rising and falling with a wilder rhythm, thrusting into her pussy from below. Sweat dripped from your forehead, mingling with Shion’s, slicking your skin.

The video on the tablet showed a similar scene, but what you were experiencing was far more real, far more intense. “Shion…” you groaned, your voice rough, feeling the pleasure building toward its peak.

She turned slightly, her eyes half-closed, brimming with passion and love. “I… I’m close too…” she whispered, and with that, you both surrendered to an unstoppable rhythm, racing toward a climax that was just within reach.

Her body tensing. “I… I can’t hold it anymore!” she cried, her voice raw, brimming with uncontainable pleasure. Her hips shook violently, and with a long, room-filling moan, she squirted, warm liquid soaking your cock, the bed, and your thighs.

She let it all out, her body collapsing back against you, resting on your chest, her breaths coming in heavy gasps. Her pussy still pulsed, slick and hot, making it nearly impossible for you to hold back.

You hadn’t climaxed yet, your desire still blazing. Breathing heavily, you guided her hips, sliding your still-hard cock back into her now-drenched pussy.

Shion moaned softly, her body still sensitive from her orgasm, but she responded by moving her hips again, as if unwilling to let the moment end.

Your climax was nearing, the waves of pleasure building in your body. You wanted more, wanted to feel Shion completely.

With a swift move, you pulled out, making Shion gasp in surprise. “Wait, what—” she started, but before she could finish, you tore off the condom with trembling hands, the foil dropping to the bed.

Without hesitation, you slid your cock back into her pussy, this time bare. The skin-to-skin sensation was like lightning—warm, raw, and so intense it drew a loud groan from you.

Shion moaned too, her head tilting back, her hands gripping your arms. “Oh, God… this is… insane,” she gasped, her voice a mix of shock and ecstasy.

Shion pressed her hips down, meeting your every push, her moans blending with yours, filling the room with a symphony of passion. Sweat coated your skin, Shion’s slender body glistening, her hair sticking to her neck, her small breasts bouncing with the rhythm.

“Baby… I’m… again…” she whispered, signaling another peak, the word “baby” pushing you to the edge.

Shion clawed at your back, her trembling hands leaving faint marks, her moans growing higher with every thrust. Your skin pressed together, sweat soaking you both, her small breasts swaying gently with each push. “You’re… so insane,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, brimming with satisfaction, her eyes locking onto yours with unhidden love.

Your climax was nearing, waves of pleasure building, making you groan loudly. “Shion… I’m…” you started, your voice breaking under the unbearable sensation, your body tensing.

Shion, panting, reacted quickly. “Outside,” she whispered urgently, her arms wrapping around your neck, pulling you closer, her eyes filled with both urgency and tenderness.

With one final thrust, you felt the peak hit. Quickly, you pulled out of her pussy, and with a long, guttural moan, you released everything onto her stomach.

Warm cum splashed across her pale skin, glistening in the room’s dim light. Shion let out a soft moan, her body still trembling from lingering pleasure, her hands gripping your neck tightly as if unwilling to let go.

You both froze for a moment, your breaths ragged, sweat dripping from your forehead onto her chest. The video on the tablet played on, but its sounds felt distant, drowned out by the resonance of your racing heartbeats.

You collapsed beside her, your bodies still touching, skin sticky with sweat and fluids. Shion turned to you, a small smile on her lips, her eyes warm despite her flushed face.

She is giggling softly, her hand gently brushing your cheek. You smiled, pulling her into your embrace, feeling the warmth of her slender body.

The bed was a mess, the pastel blanket askew, and the tablet beside it was finally turned off, its screen now dark after the porn video ended.

Shion rested against your chest, her breathing steadying, her damp hair clinging to your cheek. Her stomach still glistened with the cum you’d left behind, and she gave a small smile, her eyes warm as she looked at you.

“I never thought… we’d end up like this,” she said, giggling softly, her voice gentle with a hint of shyness creeping back.

You smiled, kissing her forehead tenderly. “Me neither, Shion,” you replied, your voice hoarse but full of warmth. “But… I’m glad.”

The words were genuine, and for the first time, you felt free from Chaeyeon’s haunting images—the dildo, her toned body, your wild fantasies. Shion, with her courage and love, had filled that space completely.

.

You both eventually got up, realizing how late it was. Shion grabbed tissues from the small bedside table, wiping her stomach carefully, her face flushing as she chuckled, “This… got a bit messy, huh.”

You helped tidy the bed, pulling the blanket back into place and gathering the scattered clothes—her open shirt, her skirt, and her still-wet panties.

You also tossed the used condom into the small trash bin in the corner, trying to make everything neat before her mom grew suspicious.

Shion slipped her shirt back on, leaving a few buttons undone, her hair now loosely tied, giving her a relaxed yet still alluring look.

She glanced at you, smiling, her hand brushing your arm. “You… don’t regret this, right?” she asked, her voice soft, a flicker of doubt in her eyes.

You shook your head, pulling her into a brief hug. “No, Shion. I’m happy with you,” you answered, and this time, you truly felt the honesty in your words. She beamed, hugging you tightly before letting go.

“I should head home, it’s getting late,” you said, glancing at the wall clock showing past seven. Shion nodded, though a hint of disappointment lingered in her eyes.

“Yeah, be careful, okay,” she said, walking you to the front door. Her mom, still in the kitchen, waved with a friendly smile. “Come back soon, alright!” she called, making you smile awkwardly.

You smiled, waving, then walked home, your mind filled with the night’s moments—Shion’s warmth, her moans, and the unconditional love she gave.

=================

The morning at school felt bright, sunlight filtering through the trees by the gate, casting swaying shadows on the sidewalk.

You walked toward the school, your backpack slung over your shoulder, your mind still buzzing with flashes of last night in Shion’s room—her warmth, her moans, and the sincere love she showed.

The feeling lingered, like the residual heat of a fire just extinguished. As you neared the gate, you spotted Shion waiting, standing neatly in her uniform, her skirt falling perfectly, her hair tied in a ponytail that swayed slightly in the breeze.

Her face glowed, a stark contrast to the passionate, sultry Shion from last night.

“Hey, sleep well?” she greeted, her voice soft, with her signature sweet smile, as if there were no trace of the bold wildness she’d shown the night before. Her eyes sparkled, full of warmth that made you smile unconsciously.

“Pretty good, I managed to relax,” you replied, then added with a teasing tone, “You?”

Shion nodded, her smile widening, her cheeks faintly pink. “Me too,” she said, her voice light but with a mischievous glint in her eyes, as if she, too, was recalling last night.

You walked side by side into the school, your steps in sync, your shoulders occasionally brushing. Your conversation was casual—math homework, the morning weather—but there was a new intimacy between you, something unspoken.

Shion glanced at you now and then, a small smile on her lips, and you felt your heart lighter than ever.

At the corridor, you parted ways to your respective classrooms. “Meet up at break, okay?” Shion asked, standing by her classroom door, her hands nervously clutching her bag’s strap.

You nodded, smiling. “Definitely,” you replied, watching her step lightly into class, her ponytail swaying.

The morning lessons went smoothly, the math teacher droned on about formulas on the board, but you were more preoccupied stealing glances at the window, imagining Shion in the next classroom, probably taking neat notes as usual.

When the break bell rang, you hurried out of class, heading to Shion’s room next door. She was already waiting at the door, her bag slung over her shoulder, her face lighting up when she saw you.

“Let’s hit the canteen, I’m starving,” she said, giggling, then casually linking her arm with yours—a natural gesture that made your heartbeat faster.

You walked to the canteen, chatting about what to eat, but beneath the light conversation was a new feeling—an intimacy forged from last night’s honesty and passion.

You knew that, even as you slipped back into the school routine, something had shifted between you, and for the first time, you felt truly committed to this relationship with all your heart.

=================

bonus scene:

Night had enveloped the city, and Chaeyeon’s room became her own little world. A small desk lamp cast a dim glow, just enough to illuminate her neatly made bed. The curtains were drawn tight, shielding her from the outside world.

On the white sheets, the shopping bag from the supermarket lay open, its contents now on display, a bottle of vanilla lotion, a soft yet firm pink dildo, and a small, shiny buttplug gleaming under the light.

Chaeyeon sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only a tight tank top and black panties, her hair loose and wild after being freed from its tie. Her face flushed, her heart raced—a mix of embarrassment, excitement, and an urge to explore something that had only existed in her imagination.

She picked up the lotion, squeezing a small amount into her hand. The sweet vanilla scent filled the air, calming her tense nerves slightly. With trembling fingers, she applied the lotion to the dildo, coating its surface until it glistened.

She stared at it for a moment, her mind drifting to the awkward encounter at the supermarket—your shocked expression, your hesitant voice when you asked her about it. “Don’t tell anyone,” she’d said, but now, the thought of you made her body feel hotter. She shook her head, trying to focus.

This was about her, about her desires. Chaeyeon lay back on the bed, her head resting on a soft pillow. She pulled up her tank top, revealing the full curve of her breasts, her nipples already hardened with anticipation.

Taking a deep breath, she let her hands explore her body—down her flat stomach, over her hips, to her warm thighs. Her fingers slipped under her panties, touching herself gently, feeling the wetness already forming. A soft moan escaped her lips as she found the spot that made her body tremble.

She reached for the dildo, it's cool tip brushing against her thigh. Slowly, she moved it closer, teasing herself with light touches along her vaginal lips before gently pushing it inside. The fullness made her gasp, her eyes closing as she adjusted to its size.

She began to move, guiding the dildo with a rhythm that quickened, each thrust sending waves of pleasure that lifted her hips off the bed. Her breathing grew ragged, a thin sheen of sweat coating her forehead.

Her thoughts turned to the buttplug. With a still-shaky hand, she grabbed it, applying more lotion to ensure smoothness. She shifted, bending her knees slightly, and carefully inserted the small toy into her anus. The unfamiliar yet thrilling sensation made her hold her breath, but as she relaxed, a new kind of pleasure washed over her.

The combination of the dildo still working inside her vagina and the buttplug’s gentle pressure pushed her to the edge.

“Oh, God,” she muttered, her voice hoarse, her body trembling intensely. Your image flashed in her mind uninvited—your eyes on her at the checkout, your surprised voice. For some reason, imagining you seeing her like this drove her wilder.

She sped up her movements, the dildo thrusting in and out with an almost relentless rhythm, while the buttplug added an unbearable intensity. Her body tensed, muscles contracting, and with a long, almost uncontrollable moan, she reached climax.

The orgasm surged through her, leaving her gasping, her body collapsing onto the bed, sweat slick on her skin. Chaeyeon opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling as her breathing slowed. A small smile crept onto her lips, a mix of satisfaction and newfound courage.

The toys lay beside her, wet and warm, like evidence of her nighttime adventure. She felt alive, more connected to her body, her desires. Your image lingered in her mind, but for now, she savored this moment alone—a secret that made her feel powerful, free, and a little naughty.

[mineganoe]

Hi im your new follower 🫶🏻 i just wanna say hopefully i can get more story about tripleS ❤️

hi there, surely there's would be more smuts of them, thanks for letting me know! 🥰💕

[mineganoe]

Secret SSS Story pt.2

tripleS Chaeyeon x male reader

link for part 1:

Secret SSS Story pt.1

words: 9.4k+

.

"Cut! Great work, Chaeyeon-ssi!" the director’s voice rang out in the small studio at HAUS, tripleS’s dorm, now transformed into a filming set. Midday sunlight streamed through large windows, bouncing softly off the white walls and creating a bright atmosphere that matched the concept for the reveal trailer of the fourth member: Chaeyeon. The spotlights, still glowing, were turned off one by one, and the crew moved swiftly, adjusting equipment for a retake or a brief break.

You stood in the corner, clipboard in hand, carefully overseeing the shoot. This was Chaeyeon’s introduction trailer as tripleS’s fourth member, a key moment for the growing group. Meanwhile, the first three members—Seoyeon, Hyerin, and Jiwoo—were in New York, busy filming a brand commercial with the senior manager and another production team. The full responsibility now rested on your shoulders, a junior manager, to ensure Chaeyeon’s debut went flawlessly in the sunlit HAUS.

Chaeyeon stood at the center of the set, her breathing still slightly quick from the last scene. Her long hair fell neatly, and the whitely dress she wore gave off a fresh vibe that blended perfectly with the sunlight flooding the room.

"Thank you, thank you for your help!" she said politely, bowing several times to the director and crew, who smiled back. Her demeanor was humble, but you could see the tension in her shoulders and her slightly trembling smile—lingering signs of nerves after the shoot.

You stepped closer, carrying a cold water bottle you’d grabbed from the crew’s table, feeling the warmth of the afternoon despite the studio’s air conditioning. The set behind you was being tidied, the sounds of equipment being moved and the crew’s light chatter creating a busy yet warm atmosphere.

"Great job, Chaeyeon-ssi," you said, offering the bottle with a gentle tone to ease her anxiety.

She took it with both hands, bowing slightly in thanks. "Thank you, Manager-nim," she said, her voice soft but sincere. She opened the cap and sipped slowly, then looked at you with eyes full of hope and a touch of worry.

"I was so nervous… I was scared I’d move wrong. I hope it turned out okay?"

You smiled, trying to boost her confidence. "You looked natural, Chaeyeon-ssi. The director said you did great, didn’t he? The fans are going to love seeing you in the trailer."

You point your nose toward the monitor in the corner, where the director was reviewing clips. "Come on, let’s check the footage together so you can see for yourself."

Chaeyeon nodded eagerly, though her cheeks were still flushed—perhaps from nerves or the studio’s warmth in the midday heat. You walked to the director’s table side by side, standing together as the monitor replayed the shoot.

The screen showed Chaeyeon moving gracefully, her shy yet captivating smile glowing under the sunlight softened by a diffuser. In one scene, she spoke to the camera, her voice clear and full of energy, introducing herself as part of tripleS. Chaeyeon watched with wide eyes, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress. "It doesn’t… look bad, does it?" she said softly, glancing at you with a small smile.

"Way better than ‘not bad,’" you replied, chuckling. "You looked confident there. This part—" you pointed to a scene where she smiled while glancing to the side, her hair gently swaying in the artificial breeze—"this is going to make the fans fall in love."

The director nodded in agreement from the side. "You picked up the directions quickly, Chaeyeon-ssi. This is solid for the trailer. We might just need minor tweaks in editing, but you don’t have to worry." Chaeyeon bowed again, thanking him politely, and you noticed her shoulders relax, a clear sign of relief.

"Satisfied?" you asked, making sure she felt good about the result.

"Yes, Manager-nim. Really satisfied," she answered, her smile now wide and genuine. "I just hope the fans like it. This is my first time appearing as tripleS…" Her voice trailed off, but the sunlight streaming through the window made her eyes sparkle with hope.

You stepped back from the director’s table as the crew began packing up the set more quickly. The spotlights were off, and the bright midday sun now dominated the room, casting soft shadows on the floor.

The production team said their goodbyes, most heading back to the agency to start editing, while others loaded equipment into a van outside. The director gave you a quick wave before leaving, and soon it was just you and Chaeyeon in the quieter HAUS living room, bathed in warm sunlight.

You both sat on a long sofa near the window, the sunlight filtering through the glass and highlighting Chaeyeon’s gentle features. You set your clipboard aside, knowing this was a chance to connect with her—as her manager, you needed to understand her better.

"So, Chaeyeon-ssi," you began casually, "how does it feel to be back in the idol world after… what, a long break?"

Chaeyeon looked at her hands in her lap, then let out a soft sigh. "It wasn’t really a break, Manager-nim," she said, smiling faintly with a hint of pain. "I debuted with Busters before… maybe you’ve heard of them? But things didn’t go smoothly."

She paused, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress. "We worked hard, but a lot was out of our control—management, the market, everything. The group ended up disbanding, and I thought… maybe I wasn’t meant to be an idol."

You listened intently, not wanting to interrupt. Her honesty felt raw, something rare in this industry. "I felt like I’d failed," she continued, her voice quiet but firm. "I tried living a normal life, looking for other jobs, but my heart kept saying I wasn’t done. When the tripleS audition came up, I thought—this is my last shot. I never expected to pass, let alone debut."

She looked at you now, her eyes glistening but filled with gratitude. "I’m so lucky, Manager-nim. tripleS gave me a second chance, and I don’t want to waste it. That’s why I was so nervous today—I want to make everything perfect, for the agency, the fans, and… for myself."

You nodded, touched by her openness. "I understand, Chaeyeon-ssi. And from what I saw today, you gave it your all. Busters may not have worked out, but that wasn’t because of you. Now you’re with tripleS, and I’m sure you’ll amaze a lot of people." You smiled, hoping your words would encourage her.

She laughed softly, quickly wiping the corner of her eye. "Thank you, Manager-nim. You’re making me feel more confident." She glanced out the window at Seoul’s clear blue sky in the afternoon light.

"I can’t wait to meet Seoyeon-nim, Hyerin-nim, and Jiwoo-nim. I heard they’re in New York now—it must be exciting. I want to learn from them so I can help make tripleS bigger."

You nodded, though Seoyeon’s name gave you a slight jolt, reminding you of the secret in the Purple Room. You quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing on Chaeyeon. "They’ll definitely welcome you warmly," you said, keeping your voice steady. "And I’m here to help you settle in, so if you need anything, just let me know."

"Will do, Manager-nim," she replied, her smile as bright as the sunlight outside. You chatted longer about lighter things—her favorite foods, songs she’d been listening to, and upcoming practice plans. But in the back of your mind, the growing world of tripleS and your increasing responsibilities lingered, along with the secret that never truly faded, lurking behind the bright midday light.

===================

You and Chaeyeon sat side by side on the long sofa, the remnants of your earlier conversation fading into a quiet, meaningful pause. She fidgeted with the hem of her whitely dress shirt, her fingers twisting the fabric nervously. Her expression held a mix of hesitation and determination, as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to begin.

“Chaeyeon-ssi, is everything okay?” you asked gently, your voice soft to encourage her. “You look like you have something on your mind.”

She lifted her gaze, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush under the sunlight. Biting her lower lip for a moment, she murmured, “Manajer-nim, I… I just want to be honest with you.” Her voice was quiet, almost drowned out by the faint hum of the room’s ventilation, but it carried a sincerity that caught your attention.

You nodded, leaning slightly forward to show you were listening. “You can tell me anything, Chaeyeon-ssi. As your manager, I’m here for you—always. Whatever it is, I’m all ears.” Your words were genuine, though a flicker of unease stirred in the back of your mind, memories of your secret with Seoyeon in the Purple Room lingering like a shadow.

Chaeyeon took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “I just… I’m so grateful to be debuting again,” she started, her voice soft but heavy with emotion. “Manajer-nim, I don’t know if you can imagine, but I felt so broken after Busters fell apart.” She looked down again, her fingers tightening on her dress. “I tried to keep going, you know? back when i was an MC on Boni Hani too, but…” Her voice faltered, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

She paused, then continued, her tone trembling. “There, some seniors treated me badly. They called me a failed idol, said I was just chasing attention, that I didn’t belong on screen. I smiled through it, but every night when I got home, I felt worthless. I thought maybe I wasn’t meant for this world.”

You listened intently, her words weighing heavily on your heart. Chaeyeon, who had shone so brightly during the shoot earlier, now revealed a fragile side that made you want to protect her even more. “Chaeyeon-ssi, I had no idea you went through that,” you said softly, your voice full of empathy. “But what they said wasn’t true. You’re here with tripleS because you’re talented and resilient. I saw it myself today—you were amazing in the trailer.”

A small smile tugged at her lips, and she quickly wiped the corner of her eye. “Thank you, Manajer-nim. I just… I want to say how grateful I am to everyone at tripleS—the crew, the staff. They gave me a second chance I never thought I’d get.” She looked at you, her eyes shining with gratitude. “And especially you. You’ve made me feel welcome from day one, and that… it means everything to me.”

Her words warmed your heart, but before you could respond, she reached for your hand resting on the sofa. Her fingers wrapped around yours, soft and warm, her touch so sincere it sent a shiver through you. The gesture was gentle, yet it carried an intensity that made your resolve waver, despite the warning bells in your head. “Chaeyeon-ssi…” you began, your voice catching, trying to find the right words to maintain boundaries.

But she held your hand tighter, her eyes locking onto yours with a quiet boldness. “You said I could say anything, right?” she whispered, her voice low and earnest. “This is what I want to say: I need to thank you… in my own way.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, she reached up and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her dress shirt. The fabric parted, revealing the soft curve of her cleavage, framed by a simple white bra. Her breasts were fuller than you’d expected—larger than Seoyeon’s, a comparison that flashed unbidden in your mind, making your throat tighten.

“Chaeyeon-ssi, we can’t—” you started, your voice strained as you tried to stop her, but she gently guided your hand toward her chest before you could pull away. Your fingers brushed against the warmth of her skin, the softness of her breast beneath the thin bra, and a quiet gasp escaped her lips, sending a jolt through your body. “This is what I mean, Manajer-nim,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion and something deeper. “Let me thank you… please.”

You froze, your hand still on her, feeling the rapid beat of her heart under your touch. Your mind raced—Seoyeon, the Purple Room, your role as her manager—but the sincerity in her eyes, the warmth of her skin, and the quiet plea in her voice unraveled your defenses. “Chaeyeon-ssi, this is wrong…” you murmured, but your words lacked conviction, and your hand didn’t move, instead pressing slightly, eliciting another soft moan from her.

She leaned closer, her face inches from yours, her breath warm against your lips. “I know it’s not supposed to happen,” she whispered, her voice shaking but resolute, “but I can’t lie about how I feel, Manajer-nim.” Her other hand rose to your neck, her fingers tracing your skin lightly, and you felt a heat stirring within you, your body betraying the boundaries you were meant to uphold.

Chaeyeon unbuttoned one more button, her dress slipping further to reveal more of her, the sight both intimate and overwhelming. She guided your hand again, letting you feel the fullness of her breast, her breath hitching as your fingers pressed against her.

You knew you should pull away—every instinct screamed to stop, to rebuild the boundaries crumbling between manager and member—but the weight of her in your palm, so different from Seoyeon’s, held you captive. Chaeyeon’s breasts were undeniably larger, heavier, their softness almost hypnotic compared to the memory of Seoyeon’s more delicate frame. The contrast flashed in your mind, unbidden, fueling a heat you couldn’t suppress.

“Chaeyeon-ssi, we… we have to stop,” you managed, your voice hoarse, a weak protest drowned by the way your fingers betrayed you. Instead of pulling back, they pressed deeper, squeezing gently, feeling the give of her flesh and the faint outline of her nipple hardening under the fabric. A quiet moan slipped from her lips, her head tilting back slightly, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine, tightening the knot of desire in your chest.

She opened her eyes, catching your gaze, and a playful smile curved her lips—half-shy, half-teasing, as if she found your struggle endearing. “Manajer-nim, you’re so cute,” she murmured, her voice soft but laced with a warmth that felt both innocent and daring. “You say we shouldn’t, but you’re not stopping either.” Her words were gentle, not accusing, but they struck you like a spark, highlighting the truth you couldn’t deny. She wasn’t pushing you away—instead, she seemed to revel in your hesitation, her trust in you mingling with something bolder.

Before you could respond, Chaeyeon’s hands moved to her dress shirt. With slow, deliberate motions, she undid the remaining buttons, one by one, until the fabric fell open completely. The whitely shirt parted like curtains, revealing her torso—smooth, glowing under the sunlight—and the white bra that barely contained her full breasts. The sight was breathtaking, her curves more pronounced now, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away. She let the shirt hang loosely on her shoulders, her breath hitching as the air brushed her exposed skin.

“You’re staring, Manajer-nim,” she teased, her voice light but carrying a playful challenge. She leaned closer, her hands resting on your thighs for balance, bringing her chest nearer to your still-wandering hands. “If you’re so curious… why don’t you take it off?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she nodded toward her bra, a daring glint in her expression

Your heart pounded, the room spinning under the weight of her words. “Chaeyeon-ssi, this—” you started, but your voice faltered as your hands moved almost on their own, squeezing her breasts again, thumbs brushing over the edges of her bra. The fabric felt flimsy, a fragile barrier between restraint and surrender. Her teasing laugh, soft and melodic, broke the silence, but it didn’t hide the way her breath quickened at your touch.

“Don’t overthink it,” she whispered, her tone a mix of encouragement and vulnerability. She shifted slightly, pressing herself closer, making it impossible to ignore the heat radiating between you. Her fingers grazed your wrist, guiding your hands to linger, and the invitation was clear—she wasn’t just allowing this; she was urging you forward.

She shifted suddenly, turning her body to face away from you, revealing the smooth expanse of her back. Her skin glowed under the sunlight, flawless and inviting, with the delicate curve of her spine leading your gaze to the taut straps of her white bra, still firmly clasped. The sight made your breath catch, the intimacy of the moment hitting you harder now that she wasn’t facing you.

“Manajer-nim,” she said softly, her voice a mix of nervousness and encouragement, “can you... take it off?” She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes catching yours for a brief, electric moment before she looked away, her cheeks flushed.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as your heart pounded in your chest. Your hands hovered uncertainly, drawn to the clasp but hesitant, knowing this step would push you further across a line you’d already blurred.

“Go on,” she urged gently, her voice steady despite the slight tremble in it. “It’s okay… I want you to.” Her words were both a reassurance and a pull, guiding you deeper into the moment.

You reached for the clasp, fingers fumbling at first, the small hooks proving trickier than expected. In your nervousness, the strap slipped, snapping lightly against her back with a soft twang.

“Aww, Manajer-nim!” Chaeyeon yelped, a mix of surprise and amusement in her voice as she flinched slightly. Her head turned, and she shot you a playful pout over her shoulder, though her eyes sparkled with laughter.

“S-sorry!” you stammered, your face heating up as you scrambled to recover. “I didn’t mean to—it’s just…” Your words trailed off, embarrassment mixing with the tension coiling in your chest.

She giggled softly, the sound light and disarming, easing the moment’s awkwardness. “It’s okay. Here, let me help you,” she said, her tone patient and teasing. “Just pinch the hooks together, then slide them out. Like this.” She reached back briefly, demonstrating with one hand before letting you try again, her guidance making her feel both vulnerable and in control.

You nodded, steadying your hands as you focused on the clasp. This time, your fingers moved with more care, following her instructions. The hooks released with a quiet click, and the bra loosened, its straps slipping slightly down her shoulders. Chaeyeon let out a small, relieved breath, her back still turned to you.

Slowly, she reached up, sliding the bra cups away from her chest and letting them fall to her lap, the fabric rustling softly in the quiet room.

Your heart raced, anticipation building as you watched her bare back, the curve of her shoulders, the way her hair cascaded over her skin. She hadn’t turned around yet, and the waiting was almost unbearable, each second stretching longer under the unrelenting sunlight.

You could feel your pulse in your throat, your hands clenching at your sides, torn between wanting her to stay as she was and craving the moment she’d face you again. “Chaeyeon-ssi…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, a mix of hesitation and longing.

She paused, her fingers lingering on the bra in her lap, as if savoring the tension. Then, with a soft chuckle, she said, “Manajer-nim, you’re so nervous… it’s cute.” Her voice was warm, teasing, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity that made your chest tighten.

“Just wait a second, okay?” she added, and you could hear the smile in her words, keeping you suspended in the moment, your breath hitching as you braced for what came next.

The quiet rustle of her movements snapped you back to the moment, and then, slowly, Chaeyeon began to turn.

She reached up, gathering her long hair with both hands, lifting her arms to tie it into a high ponytail. The motion revealed the smooth, pale curve of her underarm, glowing under the sunlight, and as she pivoted to face you, her bare torso came into view.

Your breath caught, your throat tightening until swallowing felt impossible. Her breasts, now fully exposed, were breathtaking—larger than you’d imagined, fuller and heavier than Seoyeon’s, with a natural weight that drew your eyes irresistibly.

Her nipples, slightly larger than you’d expected, were a soft brown, standing out against her fair skin, and a single small mole dotted the curve near her left breast, an intimate detail that made the moment feel even more surreal.

Your mouth went even dry, your pulse racing as you tried to process the sight before you. Your cock, already straining against your pants from earlier, throbbed painfully now, an undeniable response to her beauty and the forbidden line you were crossing.

Chaeyeon finished tying her ponytail, the motion causing her breasts to sway slightly, and she met your gaze with a mix of shyness and quiet confidence. You couldn’t look away, even though you knew you should.

She lowered her arms, then, with a deliberate but gentle motion, cupped her left breast, lifting it slightly as if to emphasize its weight. The gesture was both vulnerable and bold, her fingers sinking into the soft flesh, and you could see the effort it took to hold it, the sheer heft of it undeniable.

“This is actually a heavy burden I carry every day, Manajer-nim,” she said, her voice soft but tinged with playful sincerity. A small smile curved her lips, though her cheeks remained flushed, betraying the nervous courage behind her words.

You tried to speak, to find some way to pull back, but your voice stuck in your throat. “Chaeyeon-ssi…” you managed, barely a whisper, your eyes locked on her—her lifted breast, the mole near her nipple, the way her ponytail swayed as she tilted her head.

She let her breast fall gently, the motion sending a subtle ripple through her chest, and leaned closer, her hands resting on your thighs for balance. “You don’t have to say anything, Manajer-nim,” she murmured, her voice low, almost soothing, though her eyes held a spark of something daring.

“I just… I want you to know how much this mean to me.” Her fingers tightened slightly on your thighs, inches from the bulge in your pants, and the proximity sent a fresh surge of heat through you, making it harder to think, to resist.

You tried to hold back, to cling to the last shred of your duty as her manager, but your hands betrayed you. They twitched at your sides, fingers curling with an almost desperate need to reach out, to feel the softness you’d only grazed moments ago.

Chaeyeon noticed, her eyes flicking to your hands, and a soft, amused smile curved her lips. “ㅎㅎ,” she chuckled, low and warm, tinged with a playful edge, “you don’t have to fight it.” She leaned closer, her ponytail swaying slightly, her hands still resting lightly on your thighs, inches from the evidence of your arousal.

“Chaeyeon-ssi, I…” you started, your voice hoarse, barely audible, but the words dissolved as your hands moved, almost of their own accord. You hesitated, fingers hovering just flying above her chest, the air between you charged with tension.

Chaeyeon tilted her head, her smile softening into something gentler, encouraging. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice a quiet reassurance. She shifted slightly, bringing her chest closer, giving you silent permission. “I want you to.” Her words were a spark, and your restraint crumbled completely.

Your hands reached forward, trembling at first, and then settled on her breasts, fingers sinking into their softness. They were heavier than you’d imagined, warm and pliant under your touch, filling your palms with a fullness that made your breath hitch.

You squeezed gently, almost reverently, feeling the give of her flesh and the faint firmness beneath. Chaeyeon let out a soft gasp, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening again, locking onto yours with a mix of amusement and something deeper—trust, perhaps, or desire.

“You’re so careful, Manajer-nim,” she teased, her voice light but breathy, her cheeks flushed under the sunlight. She didn’t pull away, instead arching slightly into your touch, letting you explore. Your thumbs brushed over her nipples, the light brown peaks hardening under your fingers, and she bit her lip, a quiet moan escaping her.

The sound sent a jolt through you, your erection throbbing harder, and you squeezed again, more confidently now, unable to stop yourself from marveling at how different she felt compared to Seoyeon—fuller, softer, overwhelming.

Chaeyeon’s teasing smile, her gentle encouragement, only fueled you further, “you don’t have to hold back.”

Her words were like a key unlocking something primal within you, and before you could think, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against her breast.

The warmth of her skin met your mouth, and you pressed a tentative kiss, then another, before taking her nipple between your lips. The sensation was electric—her nipple firm yet yielding, a contrast to the plush fullness surrounding it. You sucked gently at first, then with more hunger, your tongue swirling over the sensitive peak, savoring the unique texture and heat.

“Yes, Manajer-nim!” Chaeyeon gasped, her voice a mix of surprise and delight, her head tilting back as her ponytail swayed. “You love this, don’t you?” Her tone was playful, almost triumphant, as if she reveled in seeing you unravel.

Her words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, and you couldn’t deny the truth in them. Your free hand moved to her other breast, stroking and squeezing, fingers sinking into its softness, marveling at how different it felt— heavier, more overwhelming—than anything you’d experienced.

You buried your face between her breasts, the warmth and scent of her skin enveloping you, a heady mix of sweetness and intimacy that made your head spin. Your lips moved from one nipple to the other, sucking and teasing, while your hand continued its rhythmic kneading, drawing soft moans from her that echoed in the sunlit room.

Your cock strained painfully against your pants, the fabric dampening with precum as your arousal grew unbearable, every sensation heightened by her closeness and the forbidden thrill of the moment.

Chaeyeon noticed, her eyes flicking downward with a knowing glint. “Manajer-nim…” she murmured, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. Her hand slid from your thigh to the bulge in your pants, fingers brushing over the taut fabric, feeling the slickness of your precum.

The contact made you groan against her breast, your hips twitching instinctively toward her touch. “You’re so worked up,” she teased softly, her fingers tracing the outline of your erection before finding the zipper.

With a slow, deliberate motion, she tugged it down, the sound sharp in the quiet room, and reached inside, freeing your cock from its confines. Her touch was light at first, her fingers wrapping around you, warm and sure, stroking gently as she explored your length. The relief was immediate but torturous, her slow rhythm only stoking the fire burning within you.

You pulled back slightly, your lips glistening from her skin, and met her gaze—her cheeks flushed, her eyes half-lidded with a mix of nervousness and boldness.

“Chaeyeon-ssi…” you groaned, your voice thick with need, barely able to form words as her strokes grew firmer, her thumb brushing over the slick tip of your cock. Her touch, her warmth, and the raw intimacy of this moment consumed you.

=================

Chaeyeon paused, her fingers slowing as she glanced up at you, a playful smile tugging at her lips, “Let me try something.”

Before you could respond, she shifted closer, her hands gently cupping her breasts, lifting their weight with a deliberate grace. She leaned forward, guiding your cock between them, enveloping you in their soft, warm embrace. The sensation was overwhelming—her breasts, full and pliant, pressed tightly around you, creating a perfect, slick warmth that made your breath catch.

You sank back against the sofa, your body almost reclining as the pleasure took hold, every nerve alight with the intensity of her touch. The sunlight poured over you both, illuminating the scene with a stark clarity—the curve of her shoulders, the faint mole near her nipple, the way her ponytail swayed as she moved. Chaeyeon began to move, her breasts sliding up and down your length with a slow, deliberate rhythm, the friction both gentle and maddening. “You like this, don’t you?” she teased, her voice breathy, her eyes flicking up to meet yours, sparkling with a mix of amusement and desire.

You groaned, unable to form words, your head tilting back as you surrendered to the sensation. Her breasts were a perfect fit, their weight and softness enveloping you completely, each motion sending shivers of pleasure through your core.

The slickness of your precum mingled with her skin, easing the glide, and the sight of her—so exposed, so confident—only heightened the rush.

But Chaeyeon wasn’t done. She leaned forward further, her lips parting as she lowered her mouth to the tip of your cock, her tongue darting out to tease you with a quick, warm flick.

The combination was devastating—her breasts squeezing you tightly, her mouth joining in with soft, tentative licks that grew bolder with each pass. She took you deeper, her lips closing around the head, sucking gently while her breasts continued their rhythmic motion, the dual sensations pushing you to the edge.

“Chaeyeon-ssi…” you managed, your voice a strained groan, your hands gripping the sofa cushions as you fought to stay grounded. Her moan vibrated against you, a low hum that sent sparks through your body, and you could feel the heat building, your control slipping further with every second.

She glanced up again, her eyes half-lidded, her cheeks flushed under the sunlight. “Manajer-nim, just enjoy it,” she whispered, her voice muffled as she returned to her task, her tongue swirling over you while her breasts pressed even tighter, the pressure and warmth almost unbearable.

The way her lips glistened as she worked. Your hips twitched involuntarily, seeking more, and she adjusted effortlessly, her movements growing faster, more deliberate, as if determined to unravel you completely. Her breasts and mouth worked in perfect harmony, you felt yourself teetering on the brink, caught in a tide you could no longer resist.

Each movement of her full, heavy breasts—sliding up and down with a rhythm that grew more confident, more tantalizing—sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, amplified by the soft, wet heat of her mouth teasing your tip.

The pleasure was unbearable now, each stroke of her breasts and flick of her tongue pushing you closer to the edge. Your hands gripped the sofa cushions, knuckles white, as your hips twitched involuntarily, chasing the sensation.

“Chaeyeon-ssi…” you couldn’t take it anymore—the heat, the pressure, the sight of her glowing under the sunlight, her ponytail swaying with each motion. A surge of need overtook you, primal and unstoppable.

You gently but firmly pushed her back, guiding her down until she was lying flat on the sofa, her bare torso stretched out beneath you. Her breasts settled slightly, their weight spreading enticingly.

You moved swiftly, kneeling over her, your knees bracketing her hips as you positioned yourself above her. Your cock, slick and throbbing, hovered just above her breasts, the anticipation making your pulse race.

Chaeyeon looked up at you, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and excitement. “Manajer-nim…” she murmured, her voice breathy, but there was no hesitation in her gaze—only a quiet invitation, a willingness to let you take the lead. Her hands rested lightly on your thighs, grounding you, encouraging you, as the sunlight poured over her, illuminating every curve, every detail.

You pressed her breast together with your hands, marveling at their softness, their fullness. The sensation was electric as you began to move, thrusting slowly at first, the slick warmth of her skin enveloping you completely. Chaeyeon gasped softly, her fingers tightening on your thighs, and she arched her back slightly, pushing her breasts closer, amplifying the friction.

“Yes, Manajer-nim,” she whispered, her voice a mix of awe and encouragement, her lips parting as she watched you, her ponytail splayed across the sofa like a dark halo. Each thrust between her breasts sending you spiraling closer to release. Your hands kneaded her flesh, fingers sinking into their softness, and the faint brown of her nipples, hardened and inviting, brushed against your palms, adding to the dizzying rush.

The sofa creaked under your movements, your cock glistened with precum, easing each thrust, and the pleasure was relentless, building with every second. Chaeyeon’s hands slid higher, one grazing your hip, steadying you as you moved, her touch a reminder of her presence, her consent, her desire to share this with you.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak as you knelt over her, your hips moving with a desperate rhythm.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. The heat, the pressure, the sight of her breasts molding around you pushed you past the point of control. “Chaeyeon-ssi…” you groaned, your voice breaking as your body tensed, the climax surging through you like a tidal wave.

You thrust harder, faster. Your hands pressing her breasts tightly together, the slickness of your precum easing each movement. The pleasure crested, and with a low, guttural moan, you came, your release spilling hot and thick across her chest, painting her breasts and catching the faint mole in its path.

The intensity didn’t stop there—your hips jerked involuntarily, and another pulse shot upward, streaking across her collarbone and landing on her flushed cheek, a glistening drop clinging to her skin.

Chaeyeon gasped softly, her eyes widening for a moment before softening into a mix of surprise and quiet satisfaction. She didn’t pull away, her hands still resting on your thighs, steadying you as you trembled above her, your breaths heaving in the aftermath.

Her chest glistening with your release, a single bead trailing down toward her neck, the streak on her face catching the light like a forbidden mark. Your cock throbbed with the last pleasure, softening slightly but still slick between her breasts, which rose and fell with her quickened breaths.

“Manajer-nim…” she said softly, her voice a mix of amusement and warmth, a small smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at you, unfazed by the intimacy of what had just happened.

You collapsed back slightly, still kneeling over her, your hands falling to your sides as reality crashed in. “Chaeyeon-ssi, I…” you started, your voice hoarse, but words failed you, lost in the haze of what you’d done.

===================

She sat up slowly, her breasts shifting with the movement, the evidence of your climax still glistening on her skin. “It’s okay, Manajer-nim,” she murmured, her tone gentle, almost soothing, as she reached for her discarded dress shirt, not to cover herself but to dab lightly at her cheek.

“You really enjoyed that, didn’t you?” Her eyes sparkled, her flushed cheek still bearing a trace of your release, and the sight stirred a conflicting rush of awe and shame within you.

The air was heavy with the aftermath, your body still trembling from the intensity of release, your cock softening between her breasts as you knelt above her on the sofa. Her quiet smile, warm and unashamed, met your dazed gaze, she shifted beneath you, her breasts rising with each breath.

But then her gaze dropped to your cock, still slick and sensitive, and a new glint of mischief crossed her face. “I’m not done yet, though,” she said, her voice lowering to a sultry whisper, a hint of hunger beneath her words. Before you could protest, she leaned forward, positioned herself between your legs.

“Chaeyeon-ssi, wait—” you started, your voice hoarse, still reeling from the climax, but she silenced you with a soft, reassuring smile.

Her fingers wrapped around your sensitive cock, her touch light but deliberate, and you flinched at the intensity, your nerves still raw. “Just relax, Manajer-nim,” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin as she leaned closer.

Her tongue flicked out, teasing the tip with a slow, deliberate lick, and a jolt of pleasure mixed with overstimulation shot through you, making you gasp.

She didn’t stop there. Her lips parted, and she took you into her mouth, her tongue swirling over the sensitive head, cleaning the remnants of your release with a care that felt both intimate and possessive.

The sensation was almost too much—your cock twitched, caught between the lingering sensitivity and a stirring heat as she worked. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, half-lidded and gleaming with satisfaction, and the sight of her lips wrapped around you, her breasts swaying slightly with each movement, sent your mind reeling.

Chaeyeon’s mouth moved lower, her lips brushing along your shaft before she shifted her attention to your balls, sucking gently, her tongue tracing slow, warm circles. The new sensation drew a low groan from your throat, your hands gripping the sofa as your body arched involuntarily.

“Chaeyeon-ssi…” you managed, your voice strained, but she only hummed softly, the vibration sending another spark through you. Her touch was relentless yet tender, coaxing your cock back to life despite the sensitivity, and you felt yourself hardening again, the ache of arousal returning with a vengeance.

She noticed, pulling back slightly to admire her work, a satisfied smile curving her lips as she stroked you lightly, coaxing you back to full arousal. “See, Manajer-nim?” she said, her voice playful yet sultry. “You’re not done either.”

"You’re ready for more, aren’t you?” Before you could respond, she reached toward the small coffee table beside the sofa, her fingers deftly retrieving a tiny purse tucked among her belongings.

From it, she produced a foil packet—a condom—its appearance catching you off guard, a jolt of surprise cutting through the haze of pleasure.

“You… always carry condoms?” you asked, your voice low, a mix of curiosity and unexpected disappointment creeping in. The sight of it stirred something uneasy—you hadn’t anticipated this level of preparedness, and it made you wonder about her intentions, her past. Your heart sank slightly, though the arousal still pulsed through you, clouding your thoughts.

Chaeyeon glanced at you, her smile playful but reassuring as she tore open the packet with a practiced ease. “Better to be prepared.” she said lightly, her tone teasing yet calm.

“Don’t worry, Manajer-nim—it’s thin. You’ll still feel everything.” Her fingers moved with confidence, rolling the condom onto your cock with a slow, deliberate touch, her warmth lingering through the latex as she ensured it fit snugly. The sensation, though slightly muted, sent a fresh shiver through you, your erection twitching under her care.

You swallowed hard, the question burning in your throat despite the intimacy of the moment. “That's not the problem rather than you… have done this a lot?” you asked, your voice hesitant, searching her face for answers. The weight of your words hung between you, a flicker of doubt surfacing as you realized how little you truly knew about her experiences.

Chaeyeon’s movements paused, her expression flattening for a moment, her eyes unreadable as they met yours. The silence stretched, heavy under the sunlight, before she answered, her voice steady but carrying a quiet edge.

“This is how I’ve survived in the entertainment world, Manajer-nim,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, though a trace of vulnerability lingered beneath it.

“I’ve done it more times than I’d like to count.” She finished securing the condom, her fingers lingering briefly before pulling away, her gaze softening as she looked at you.

Her words hit you like a wave, a mix of raw honesty and unexpected weight. The revelation stirred a pang of sympathy, mingling with the desire still coursing through you, and you found yourself caught between wanting to comfort her and the undeniable pull of the moment. Chaeyeon leaned closer, her hands resting on your thighs, her breasts brushing against your legs as she waited, her eyes searching yours for a reaction.

“Chaeyeon-ssi…” you started, your voice thick, unsure whether to press further or let the moment carry you forward. But her smile returned, softer now, and she shook her head slightly, as if to dismiss any lingering tension.

“Let’s just focus on this, okay?” she murmured, her voice warm again, guiding you back to the present.

Chaeyeon shifted, her hands braced on your shoulders, her breasts swaying slightly as she positioned herself above you, the heat of her body tantalizingly close.

With a slow, deliberate motion, she lowered herself, guiding your cock to her entrance, and the first contact made you both gasp. The condom was indeed thin, as she’d promised—you felt every inch of her warmth, her tightness enveloping you in a way that sent shivers through your core.

She began to move, riding you with a steady rhythm, her hips rolling with a grace that belied the intensity of the moment. The sensation was overwhelming, the latex barely dulling the slick, intimate heat of her, each thrust drawing you deeper into her.

Her breasts bounced with each motion, their fullness mesmerizing under the sunlight, the faint mole a quiet anchor in the sea of sensation. You groaned, your hands instinctively reaching for her hips, guiding her as she rocked against you, the sofa creaking louder now under the shared weight.

Chaeyeon leaned forward, her breasts hovering just inches from your face, their soft curves swaying tantalizingly close. The invitation was clear, and this time, you didn’t hesitate. Your lips found her breast, kissing the warm skin before taking her nipple into your mouth, sucking gently at first, then with more hunger.

The taste, the texture—firm yet yielding—was intoxicating, and she moaned softly, her hands tangling in your hair as she pressed herself closer. “Yes, Manajer-nim…” she gasped, her voice breathy, urging you on as her hips continued their relentless rhythm.

Your hands moved to her breasts, cupping their weight, using them as leverage to match her movements, squeezing in time with her thrusts. The fullness filled your palms, driving you to suck harder, your tongue swirling over her nipple while your fingers teased the other. Her moans grew louder, her ponytail swaying wildly now, her body arching as she rode you faster, the slick sound of your connection mingling with the creak of the sofa.

The condom did little to dull the intensity—you felt every pulse, every clench of her around you, the heat building to a fever pitch. Your lips moved between her breasts, kissing and sucking, your hands gripping them tightly as she drove you both toward another peak. “Chaeyeon-ssi…” you groaned against her skin, your voice muffled, lost in the rhythm of her body and the overwhelming pleasure.

She leaned closer still, her breath hot against your ear, her voice a mix of desire and triumph. “You feel so good, Manajer-nim,” she whispered, her hips grinding harder now, pushing you deeper.

Your hands gripped her breast, fingers sinking into their softness, using their weight to match her pace, while your lips and tongue devoured her nipples, drawing soft, breathless moans from her that echoed in the sunlit space.

“Manajer-nim…” Chaeyeon gasped, her voice a sultry mix of need and encouragement, her ponytail whipping wildly as she leaned forward, pressing her breasts closer to your face. Her skin was flushed, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on her collarbone, and the scent of her—sweet, warm, intoxicating—filled your senses.

You sucked harder, your tongue swirling over one nipple while your fingers teased the other, pinching lightly, feeling them harden under your touch. Her moans grew sharper, her hips grinding with more urgency, the slick sound of your bodies moving together mingling with the creak of the sofa beneath you.

The intensity was unbearable now, a fire building in your gut as she rode you faster, her movements more desperate, more demanding. You could feel every pulse, every clench of her around you, the thin latex amplifying rather than dulling the heat.

Your hands tightened on her breasts, using them as leverage to thrust upward, meeting her halfway, the collision sending sparks through your body. “Chaeyeon-ssi…” you groaned, your voice rough, muffled against her skin as you buried your face between her breasts, kissing and licking the valley between them, lost in their overwhelming fullness.

She arched her back, her hands bracing on your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as she pushed herself closer to the edge. “Yes, Manajer-nim… like that,” she panted, her voice breaking with each thrust, her hips slamming down harder now, driving you deeper.

You couldn’t get enough, your lips returning to her nipple, sucking with a hunger that matched the frantic rhythm of your bodies, your hands kneading her breasts like they were the only thing grounding you.

The pleasure was a tidal wave, building to a crescendo you couldn’t stop. Your thrusts grew erratic, your hips bucking to meet hers, the sofa groaning under the strain. Chaeyeon’s moans turned into sharp gasps, her body trembling as she chased her own release, her tightness gripping you like a vice.

“Manajer-nim… I’m so close…” she whimpered, her voice raw, her eyes locking onto yours for a fleeting moment, half-lidded and blazing with desire. The sight of her—bare, glistening, lost in the moment—pushed you to the brink.

You thrust upward one last time, hard and deep, your hands squeezing her breasts tightly, your mouth latching onto her nipple with a final, desperate suck.

The climax hit you like a storm, a white-hot surge that tore through you, your cock pulsing inside her as you came, the thin condom capturing your release but doing nothing to dull the intensity. You groaned her name, your voice breaking, your body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, each pulse more powerful than the last.

Chaeyeon gasped, her own release triggered by yours, her body convulsing as she ground down against you, her moans rising into a soft cry that filled the sunlit room. Her breasts pressed against your face, their warmth enveloping you as she rode out her orgasm, her hips slowing but still moving, milking every last moment of pleasure.

You collapsed back against the sofa, your chest heaving, your hands falling to her hips as she slumped against you, her breaths ragged but satisfied. Her breasts rested against your chest, their weight a lingering reminder of what had just happened, and her ponytail tickled your shoulder as she caught her breath. “Manajer-nim…” she murmured, her voice soft now, a mix of exhaustion and contentment, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke.

====================

Your cock, still nestled inside her, softened slowly in the warm, slick aftermath of your shared climax, the thin condom a faint barrier to the lingering heat of her body. Both of you were breathless, your bodies entwined, the sofa creaking faintly under your shared weight as the world seemed to pause in the sunlit haze.

Chaeyeon’s head rested on your shoulder, her ponytail tickling your skin, her breaths slowing as she recovered from the intensity. The quiet intimacy of the moment felt fragile, almost sacred, yet heavy with the weight of what you’d done. You shifted slightly, still inside her, and the movement stirred a question you couldn’t hold back, a mix of curiosity and unease rising to the surface.

“Chaeyeon-ssi,” you murmured, your voice low and hesitant, “are you… going to do this with others? Like the crew, or other managers?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, tinged with a vulnerability you hadn’t meant to reveal, your mind flashing to her earlier confession about surviving in the entertainment world.

She lifted her head, her eyes meeting yours, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. “Why are you asking that, Manajer-nim?” she replied, her voice soft but curious, a teasing lilt at the edges as she studied you. Her body remained pressed against you, her warmth a constant reminder of the intimacy you’d shared, and the sunlight caught the faint sheen of sweat on her skin, making her seem almost luminous.

You faltered, your throat tightening as you scrambled for an answer, feeling exposed under her gaze. “I-I mean, it’s just… you don’t have to do this with everyone,” you stammered, your words awkward, betraying a concern you hadn’t fully processed. The thought of her with others—crew, managers, anyone—twisted something in your chest, though you couldn’t quite name it.

Chaeyeon’s lips curved into a small, amused smile, and she let out a soft laugh, the sound light and disarming in the quiet room. “Are you jealous, Manajer-nim?” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she tilted her head, her ponytail swaying slightly. The question caught you off guard, and you felt your face heat up, the truth of her words hitting closer than you’d expected.

“N-no, I’m not—I just…” you started, stumbling over your words, but before you could finish, Chaeyeon leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a sudden, gentle kiss.

The contact was soft, lingering, a contrast to the raw passion of moments before, and it silenced your protests, leaving your heart racing anew. She pulled back slightly, her breath warm against your lips, her eyes holding yours with a mix of affection and playfulness.

“You’re so cute, Manajer-nim,” she said, her voice warm and teasing, but with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. “If you’re jealous, fine—I won’t do this with anyone else, okay?” Her smile widened, but then her tone shifted, a hint of something more serious beneath the tease. “But… you have to be there for me, yeah? Whenever I need you.” Her words carried a quiet promise, a weight that settled between you, both comforting and daunting.

You swallowed, still reeling from her kiss, her words, the feel of her body against yours. “Chaeyeon-ssi…” you murmured, unsure how to respond, your mind torn between the warmth of her offer and the complications it implied.

You shifted, gently but firmly pushing her back until she lay flat on the sofa, her bare torso stretched out beneath you, her ponytail splaying across the cushions. Her eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and anticipation.

Your cock slipped free from her as you moved, the condom from your previous climax still clinging to you, filled with the evidence of your release. With a quick, deliberate motion, you peeled it off, discarding it to the side, the act feeling both liberating and reckless.

The sight of her beneath you—bare, vulnerable, glowing—drove you forward, your erection now free and throbbing, ready for another round. You parted her thighs gently, revealing her pussy, still slick and glistening from before, its pink folds inviting under the sunlight, the faint scent of sex and her arousal intoxicating you further.

“Manajer-nim, the condom…” Chaeyeon started, her voice hesitant, a flicker of concern in her eyes as she propped herself up slightly, her breasts shifting with the movement. But you were too far gone, the raw need to feel her without barriers overwhelming any caution. You shook your head, silencing her with a look of quiet determination, and positioned yourself between her legs, the tip of your cock brushing against her entrance.

Without a word, you pushed forward, entering her in one smooth, deep thrust, the sensation of her bare warmth enveloping you like a shockwave. She was tight, slick, and impossibly hot, the absence of the condom making every detail—every pulse, every clench—vivid and raw.

Chaeyeon gasped, her head falling back against the sofa, her hands gripping your arms as you pressed your body closer, sinking deeper until your hips met hers. “Manajer-nim…” she moaned, her voice a mix of surprise and pleasure, her initial concern melting into the rhythm of your movements.

You leaned forward, your chest brushing against her breasts, their fullness soft against you as you began to thrust, slow at first, savoring the unfiltered connection. Your hands found her hips, guiding her to meet each thrust, the sofa creaking louder now under the weight of your urgency. The pleasure was intense, almost primal, driven by her promise and your need to claim this moment, to be the one she turned to.

Her moans grew sharper, her legs wrapping around you, pulling you deeper as she surrendered to the pace. “Yes… Harder” she panted, her voice breaking with each thrust, her breasts bouncing slightly with the motion.

Your hands moved to her breasts, their heavy fullness filling your palms as you gripped them for leverage, squeezing with each thrust, her hardened nipples brushing against your fingers. The sight of them bouncing, the faint mole near her nipple catching the light, fueled your desire, urging you to move faster, harder.

The rhythm grew frantic, your hips slamming against hers, the slick sounds of your bodies echoing in the sunlit room. You leaned forward, your face inches from hers, her flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes drawing you in as you fought to speak through the haze of pleasure.

“Chaeyeon-ssi,” you gasped, your voice rough, almost pleading, “please… don’t do this with anyone else.” The words spilled out, raw and unguarded, a reflection of the need to keep her close, to claim this connection as yours alone. Her eyes met yours, wide and intense, and she bit her lower lip, nodding quickly, a silent agreement that sent a surge of heat through you.

Her hands reached up, cupping your face with a tenderness that contrasted the ferocity of your movements. “Manajer-nim…” she whispered, her voice trembling with desire, and then she pulled you down, her lips crashing against yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

The taste of her, the softness of her mouth, ignited you further, the intimacy of the position—her breasts pressed against your chest, her hands holding you close—pushing your lust to new heights. Her tongue danced with yours, urgent and needy, as her hips rocked to meet your thrusts, the sofa groaning under the shared intensity.

The pleasure was overwhelming now, a tightening coil in your gut that you couldn’t hold back. “I’m gonna—” you groaned, breaking the kiss, your voice strained as the climax loomed, unstoppable.

Her eyes widened, her hands tightening on your face as she nodded quickly. “Outside, Manajer-nim,” she panted, her voice urgent but soft, guiding you through the haze.

With a final, desperate thrust, you pushed deep, savoring the grip of her body one last time before pulling out, the sensation almost painful in its intensity. Your hand gripped your cock, and the climax hit like a wave, your release erupting in thick, pulsing streams.

The first spurt landed across her face, catching her cheek and lips, and more followed, coating her flushed skin in a glistening mess that covered nearly her entire face—her closed eyes, her parted lips, her chin—far more than you’d expected, the sheer volume a testament to the intensity of the moment.

Chaeyeon gasped softly, her breath hitching as your release marked her, but she didn’t flinch, her hands falling to the sofa as she lay there, panting, her body still trembling from her own peak.

Your chest heaved, your body shuddering as you knelt above her, the aftershocks of pleasure mingling with a rush of awe and guilt. “Chaeyeon-ssi…” you murmured, your voice hoarse, barely audible, as reality crept back in.

The sofa creaked faintly as you caught your breath, the midday light casting long shadows, illuminating the weight of what you’d done.

===================

In the days after that sunlit afternoon in the HAUS, life at tripleS slipped back into routine.

Chaeyeon threw herself into debut preparations, her focus sharp, her laughter bright, as if the intimate moment you shared had been tucked away. Seoyeon, Hyerin and Jiwoo are back from New York and continuing their schedule as member of tripleS for now.

Yet, her fleeting glances during rehearsals—a knowing spark in her eyes—kept the memory alive, stirring both desire and guilt, complicating your role as manager, but Chaeyeon’s quiet promise to rely on you alone held you fast.

As her debut loomed, the sunlight softened, casting long shadows over secrets you both carried, a silent weight beneath the normalcy of the days ahead.

[mineganoe]

Secret SSS Story

tripleS Seoyeon x male reader

words: 7k+

=================

"Manager-nim, this is huge... how could you possibly hide this from me?" Seoyeon said in a soft, teasing tone. Her fingers glided slowly along the head of your cock, already slick with the precum that had started to leak out, stroking it with such skillful movements that your breath hitched in your throat.

"Seoyeon-ssi... ughh," a groan escaped your lips uncontrollably, your body tensing as it reveled in the unfamiliar yet intoxicating sensation. Waves of pleasure surged through you, igniting every nerve that had never been touched before.

You’re a 23-year-old junior manager, freshly recruited into the team behind tripleS, an ambitious South Korean idol girl group project developed by Modhaus.

tripleS aren’t your typical group—its concept is groundbreaking, with plans to gradually bring in up to 24 members, forming a massive collective set to shake up the K-pop industry.

But for now, in these early, mysterious stages, there’s only one member: Seoyeon. And somehow, despite all the senior staff around, you’ve been assigned to oversee her first steps.

Your experience is limited. Before this, you were just a low-level assistant at another agency, managing trainee schedules and fetching coffee for senior managers. When the offer to become a junior manager for tripleS came, you could hardly believe it—a huge opportunity, but also a heavy burden.

Seoyeon, though newly debuted, already carries a commanding presence. At 20, she has a soft, beautiful face paired with sharp, confident eyes. Her smile is sweet on camera, but off it, she has an unexpected side—one you just encountered in this Purple Room.

Today was supposed to be routine. Your task was simple: meet Seoyeon at the dorm to discuss her training schedule and early promotion strategies. tripleS is still laying its foundation, and Seoyeon is its first pillar.

But what happened now in her room was anything but "professional." How could you—a rookie manager meant to uphold boundaries—is on this situation with your very first member?

She looked at you, a small smile playing on her flushed lips. "Don’t tell me no one’s ever touched you like this, Manager-nim?" she asked, her hand now confidently stroking your cock, gripping it tightly as it moved up and down in a rhythm that made you lose all sense of control.

You shook your head quickly, eyes squeezed shut, your face flushed red as you struggled to hold back the overwhelming tide of pleasure crashing over you. Each motion of her hand felt like it was unlocking a world you’d never explored.

Seoyeon let out a soft laugh, her voice sweet but laced with a hint of mischief. "You’re so innocent, Manager-nim. Look at you, trembling like this..." she teased, speeding up her hand, her fingers deliberately pressing on your most sensitive spots, making you bite your lip.

She leaned closer, her warm breath brushing against your neck. "There’ll be 24 girls later, you know. Still think you can stay this innocent, Manager-nim?" she taunted again, her hand now moving with wild abandon, stroking you with bold confidence, pushing you to the edge while savoring every helpless reaction you couldn’t hide.

Her hand moved faster now, more assertive, stroking your cock, with a rhythm that left no room to breathe. The sensation flooded you—hot and electric—making your legs tremble uncontrollably. "Seoyeon-ssi... wait... this isn’t—" your voice broke off into a groan you couldn’t suppress, the words of protest dying in your throat.

"What’s that, Manager-nim? Trying to say, ‘this isn’t allowed’?" Seoyeon cut in, her sweet tone laced with mockery, her eyes piercing into you with total control. Her hand didn’t stop; instead, it gripped your throbbing, rock-hard cock even tighter, her fingers slick with the increasing flow of precum. "But your body’s telling a different story."

"I... I don’t want..." you mumbled weakly, your hand half-heartedly rising to push her arm away, but your heart betrayed you. Your body leaned into her touch, surrendering to the burning pleasure.

"So cute, Manager-nim," Seoyeon giggled, her voice low and seductive. She leaned in closer, her lips nearly brushing your ear, her warm breath tickling your skin. "You say you don’t want it, but this—" she sped up her hand, focusing on the increasingly sensitive head of your cock, "—can’t hold back, can it?"

You bit your lip hard, your head tilting back, your breathing ragged. "Seoyeon-ssi... enough..." your plea sounded more like a whimper, but she didn’t care. Instead, she pressed her thumb right at the tip, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that made you jolt violently. Your body tensed, muscles contracting, and you knew the climax was right at the edge.

"Can’t resist, huh? A naive junior manager, toyed with by his own member," she whispered triumphantly, her hand now stroking you at full speed, pushing you to the brink. "Just let go, Manager-nim. I know you want to."

And with one final, powerful stroke, you couldn’t fight it anymore. Your body shuddered violently, a long groan spilling from your lips as the last of your control crumbled in Seoyeon’s hands. She kept smiling, satisfied, watching you fall apart in the overwhelming pleasure she’d orchestrated.

The Purple Room, Seoyeon’s private space that once looked tidy with its soft purple tones, was now a mess. The lavender satin sheets, previously smooth and pristine, were now stained and soaked with the forceful spurts of your cum, leaving sticky trails that marred the fabric.

A faint, distinct scent filled the air, mingling with the sweet perfume that usually defined her room. You lay sprawled on your back across the bed, your chest heaving rapidly, your breathing still uneven as it struggled to settle. Your arm rested over your eyes, as if trying to shield yourself from the reality of what had just happened.

Seoyeon stood beside the bed, gazing at you with a small, unreadable smile—a blend of satisfaction and an unexpected tenderness. "Manager-nim, this stays between us, okay?" she said softly, almost in a whisper, though there was an unmistakable firmness beneath her words.

"I won’t tell anyone, promise." She leaned down, bringing her face close to your still-sensitive, faintly throbbing your cock. Her lips brushed the tip with a light kiss—a gesture so intimate and startling that it made you flinch slightly, despite your exhausted state.

You didn’t respond, staying silent, your arm still covering your eyes. Your mind was a whirlwind, torn between guilt as a junior manager who was supposed to remain professional and the lingering echoes of pleasure that still pulsed through every inch of your body.

The sound of Seoyeon’s light footsteps receded, followed by the creak of the en-suite bathroom door opening. Water began to flow from the tap, and you could picture her calmly washing her hands, as if what had just happened was merely a minor moment in her ordinary day.

Meanwhile, you remained motionless on the bed, the wet, sticky sheets beneath you a stark reminder of your defeat. "What have I done..." you muttered inwardly, the words never making it past your lips.

=================

As Seoyeon emerges from the bathroom, her hair slightly damp with water droplets clinging to her cheek, she glances at you, still lying silently on the bed.

"Manager-nim, come on, get up. We still need to go over the schedule, right?" she says casually, as if nothing extraordinary just happened. You lower your arm from your eyes, looking at her with a mix of confusion and embarrassment. She offers a faint smile, then sits at her vanity chair, crossing her legs gracefully.

"tripleS is going to be huge, Manager-nim," she says, dropping the usual formalities this time. "Later, when there are 24 members, you’ll need to be stronger than this. I’m just one, and you’re already like this..." Her tone is playful, but there’s an underlying challenge in her words. You sit up slowly, trying to gather what’s left of your authority as a manager. The stained sheets behind you feel like silent evidence of your weakness, but Seoyeon’s right—this is only the beginning.

tripleS will grow, member by member, until it reaches 24, and if you can’t control yourself with just one, what will happen later? Your chest still pounding, you grab your notebook from your bag, attempting to refocus on work. But in the back of your mind, the secret of the Purple Room looms like a ticking time bomb, one that could explode someday.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your notebook open on your lap, but your hands still tremble slightly as you try to jot down the points Seoyeon mentions. She stands in front of her vanity mirror, casually brushing her slightly damp hair as if the events in the Purple Room earlier were nothing more than a passing breeze.

"Tomorrow, there’s a vocal training session at 10 a.m., then a meeting with the creative team in the afternoon to discuss the debut concept," you say, your voice flat, like you are reading off a grocery list.

"Make sure I’m not late, okay, Manager-nim?" She replied, her hands still brushing her half-messy hair.

You nod quickly, trying to appear professional despite your scrambled thoughts. "Yeah, I’ll... I’ll set a reminder," you reply, your voice a little hoarse. The pen in your hand nearly slips, and you tighten your grip in a hurry, hoping she doesn’t notice your nerves.

But Seoyeon, with her sharp instincts, glances at you through the mirror’s reflection. A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips, and you know she’s fully aware of what’s running through your head.

"Don’t be so tense, Manager-nim," she says, turning around and leaning against the vanity with a relaxed posture. "We’re just getting started. I’m the only member right now, so you only need to focus on me. Easy, right?" Her tone is light, but there’s something beneath her words that makes you feel like she’s testing you again.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. tripleS is indeed just beginning, and Seoyeon is currently its sole member. But the agency has big plans—recruiting new members gradually, building the group into something unprecedented.

As a junior manager, your job is to ensure everything runs smoothly, starting with Seoyeon and eventually extending to the other 23 members who will join later. But after what happened earlier, you’re starting to doubt whether you can truly keep things under control.

Seoyeon walks over and sits beside you on the bed, close enough that you can catch the faint scent of shampoo from her hair. "I heard the second member’s going to be announced next week," she says, her eyes locking onto yours with a knowing look.

"You ready to manage two girls at once, Manager-nim? Or do I need to teach you more, so you don’t get all flustered?" She lets out a soft laugh, her hand briefly brushing your knee before resting back in her lap.

Your heart skips a beat, but you quickly look down at your notebook, pretending to be busy writing. "I... I can handle it," you mumble, though your voice lacks conviction. Seoyeon just nods, but her smile doesn’t fade, as if she knows you’re still under her spell.

That night, after leaving the dorm and returning to your small apartment, you collapse onto the sofa, your mind spinning. The Purple Room, Seoyeon’s touch, and the secret promise now binding you both feel like a shadow you can’t shake.

tripleS are just beginning, and with the second member soon to join, the pressure of being a manager will only grow. But beneath it all, a question gnaws at you: can you really maintain boundaries, or will Seoyeon keep playing you like she did this afternoon, even as tripleS expands into a full 24-member powerhouse?

=================

Three days. Just three days until Hyerin, the second member of tripleS, officially joins and shifts the dynamic that’s so far only involved you and Seoyeon.

The days since the incident in the Purple Room have flown by, filled with vocal training, photoshoots, and strategy meetings with the agency team. You’ve been trying desperately to slip back into professional mode, keeping your distance from Seoyeon, but she always finds a way to remind you of the secret you share.

This morning, you stand in the corner of living room, clutching a clipboard with today’s schedule. Seoyeon with the vocal trainer, train her vocal into a microphone, her voice flowing soft yet powerful. The vocal trainer beside her nods approvingly, but your eyes can’t help but linger on the subtle movements of her body—the way she grips the mic, the way her hair sways with every high note. Every little detail seems to pull you back to that moment in her room, and you quickly look down at your clipboard, forcing yourself to focus.

"Manager-nim, I’m thirsty," Seoyeon calls out suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts. She walks toward you, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead after the intense practice. You nod, hurrying to grab a water bottle from the counter and handing it to her.

As your hand brushes hers, she lets her fingers linger a moment too long, her eyes meeting yours with a smile that’s far too familiar. "Thanks, Manager-nim. You’re always so thoughtful," she says, her tone innocent but her gaze saying something entirely different.

You pull your hand back quickly, feeling your face heat up. "Y-yeah, no problem," you mumble, turning away to pretend you’re checking the schedule again. Inside, you curse yourself.

Three days until Hyerin arrives, and you need to get a grip. tripleS is about to grow, and you can’t let Seoyeon keep playing you like this. But every time she gets close, every time her voice calls you with that sweet tone, your resolve seems to crumble.

That afternoon, after practice wraps up, you and Seoyeon sit in the living room for a quick briefing. She leans back on the couch, one leg propped up on a small table with a casual air. "So, Hyerin’s coming on Saturday, right?" she asks, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "You ready to be a manager for two of us, Manager-nim?"

"I’m ready," you reply, trying to sound firm. "I’ve already coordinated with the team, and the schedule for both of you is set. We just need to stick to it."

Seoyeon chuckles, then leans forward, bringing her face closer to yours. "Good to know. But don’t forget, I was here first. Don’t get so caught up with Hyerin that you neglect me, okay?" Her tone is teasing, but there’s a slight edge to it, like she’s staking her claim.

You swallow hard, struggling to keep your expression neutral. "I’m your manager—both of you. I’ll be fair," you say, though your voice wavers slightly.

Seoyeon just smiles, then stands and gives your shoulder a light pat before heading to her room. "I trust you, Manager-nim. But we’ll see how it goes," she says, disappearing behind the door of the Purple Room, leaving you with a tangle of emotions.

That night, in your small apartment, you sit at your desk with your laptop open, reviewing Hyerin’s profile, freshly sent by the agency team. She’s 16, energetic, with standout dance talent—a perfect addition to tripleS.

But beneath the excitement of welcoming a new member, a growing tension tightens in your chest. Seoyeon’s already a handful, and with Hyerin joining, things could get even more complicated. Three days from now, your journey as a tripleS manager will truly be tested—not just by schedules, but by the secret still tucked away in the Purple Room.

=================

The night before Hyerin’s arrival, the sky outside your apartment is dark, lit only by the faint flicker of streetlights. You’ve just finished double-checking tomorrow’s schedule—Hyerin’s arrival shoot is set for noon, with a team briefing scheduled in the morning. Everything’s in order, and you plan to sleep early to keep your energy up. But as you reach to turn off the lights, your phone buzzes. Seoyeon’s name pops up on the screen, and her short message makes you frown.

"Manager-nim, come to the dorm now, please. I need more briefing for tomorrow’s shoot."

You stare at the text, your fingers hesitating.

"The briefing’s tomorrow morning, Seoyeon-ssi, Hyerin’s arriving in the afternoon, so we still have time. I need to rest first."

You hit send, hoping that’ll settle it.

But less than a minute later, your phone buzzes again.

"Please, Manager-nim. I’m serious about you coming. I need to vent, and... I need calming down. I’m not ready for Hyerin. I’m scared we won’t get along."

The message ends with a sad face emoji, and the vulnerability in her tone makes you second-guess refusing her.

You let out a long sigh, glancing at the clock—it’s past 10 p.m. You could stand your ground, but something in her words tugs at you, making it hard to say no. After wrestling with yourself, you type back,

"Fine, I’ll come. But just for a bit."

Grabbing your jacket, you step out into the chilly night.

When you arrive at HAUS, the door to the Purple Room is slightly ajar as you knock. Seoyeon appears, wearing an oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair messy and loose.

"Thanks, Manager-nim," she says softly, opening the door wider. The room still glows with its purple hues, the sheets replaced, but her familiar perfume lingers, pulling you back to memories you can’t shake.

You sit on a small chair in the corner, keeping your distance from the bed. "So, what do you want to talk about?" you ask, trying to stay professional. "We’ve locked in tomorrow’s shoot schedule, and the briefing just needs confirmation in the morning."

Seoyeon doesn’t answer right away. She sits on the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. "I’m scared, Manager-nim," she murmurs quietly. "I’ve been the only one in tripleS so far. Now Hyerin’s coming out of nowhere... What if we don’t get along? What if she doesn’t like me?" She looks at you, her eyes soft but hopeful. "That’s why I asked you to come. I need you to calm me down."

You frown, unsure of her meaning. "Calm you down? How? I can give you advice if you’re anxious," you say, confused but trying to help.

Seoyeon gives a small smile, then stands and walks toward you. "Not just advice," she whispers, her voice low. Without warning, she takes your hand from your lap and guides it slowly toward her chest.

Your fingers flinch as they brush the softness of her breast through the thin hoodie, its full, warm shape pressing into your palm. "I need this, Manager-nim. Calm me down... before Hyerin gets here," she says, her eyes locked on yours, filled with a plea you can’t misinterpret.

You freeze, your breath catching. "Seoyeon-ssi, this... this isn’t—" Your words falter, your mind scrambling for a reason to pull away, but your hand doesn’t move, letting her press it harder against her. Your heart pounds, and Seoyeon closes the distance, sitting on your lap without hesitation, her face just inches from yours.

"I just want to feel safe tonight," she whispers, her hand now stroking your neck. "Tomorrow’s going to change everything, and I don’t want to lose what we have right now." She moves your hand, letting you feel the curves of her body more deeply, and though your mind screams to stop, your body surrenders to her will once again.

That night, in the Purple Room, the line between manager and member crumbles yet again. When you leave the dorm near midnight, Seoyeon’s scent clinging to your jacket, you know tomorrow—when Hyerin arrives—will be more complicated than you ever imagined. The secret grows deeper, and Seoyeon, in her own way, ensures you can’t break free from her hold.

Seoyeon sits on your lap, her body light yet undeniably real, pressing against your thighs with a warmth that’s impossible to ignore. Your hand remains on her breast, guided by her, your fingers feeling the soft texture beneath the thin hoodie.

Your breath catches, your heart racing uncontrollably, and your mind races to find a way to pull back—but your body refuses to listen. "Seoyeon-ssi, we can’t..." you mumble, your voice weak, almost like a plea unsure of itself.

"Manager-nim, I’m only asking for this tonight," she whispers, her voice soft yet laced with a captivating strength. Her face is so close, her warm breath brushes your lips, and her eyes—usually sharp and confident—now radiate a vulnerability that somehow makes it impossible to refuse her. She moves your hand again, letting you squeeze her breast more deeply, and a faint moan escapes her lips, a sound that sends a jolt through your entire body.

You know this is wrong. As a junior manager for tripleS, your job is to protect and guide Seoyeon, not to drown in the temptation she offers. But as her other hand strokes your neck, her fingers sliding slowly toward the nape, all logic seems to evaporate.

"I’m scared tomorrow will feel different," she says, her voice almost a whimper. "Hyerin’s coming, and I don’t want you to forget me." She presses herself closer, her hips shifting subtly on your lap, and you feel your cock hardening, no longer concealable.

"Seoyeon-ssi..." you try again, but your words falter as she leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth, soft yet deliberate. The already fragile boundary shatters completely.

Your hand, once passive, now moves on its own, squeezing her breast more boldly, feeling its weight and softness as your blood surges. She smiles faintly between kisses, then pulls her hoodie up, revealing a simple black bra that frames her perfect shape.

"Calm me down, Manager-nim," she pleads again, taking your other hand and guiding it to her hip. Your mind can’t think straight anymore. Your fingers slip beneath her bra, brushing against warm skin and a hardened nipple, and Seoyeon moans softly, her head tilting back.

That sound acts like a trigger—you pull her closer, your lips finally meeting hers, a hesitant kiss that quickly turns hungry, fueled by the desire you’ve suppressed all this time.

She responds fiercely, her tongue dancing with yours, while her hand slides down to your pants, stroking your already stiff cock, through the fabric. "I want you to remember me, even when Hyerin comes," she whispers between kisses, her fingers swiftly undoing your zipper.

You can’t resist anymore—your hands explore her body, squeezing her breasts, slipping to her hips, while she strokes you with a rhythm too familiar from that earlier moment in the Purple Room.

The kiss deepens, Seoyeon’s tongue dancing with yours in a rhythm fueled by raw desire, making you momentarily forget who you’re supposed to be in this room.

Your hands move more freely now, slipping beneath her black bra, your fingers finding her hardened nipple and stroking it gently until a soft moan escapes into your mouth. That sound—soft, needy—ignites something inside you, and thoughts of the boundaries that should exist vanish.

Seoyeon pulls back briefly, her breathing uneven, her eyes glinting in the dim light of the Purple Room. "Manager-nim," she whispers, her voice husky yet sweet, "I want you even closer." She takes your hand from her hip, guiding it downward toward her shorts.

Your fingers hesitate for a moment, but she leaves no room for retreat—she presses your hand against the inside of her thigh, letting you feel the warmth of her soft skin and a faint dampness starting to seep through.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding. "Seoyeon-ssi, this..." you start, but your voice fades as she shifts, spreading her legs wider on your lap. Her hoodie is hiked up to her waist, revealing the smooth curve of her stomach and the slightly shifted bra that exposes more of her breasts. She looks at you, lips parted, then pulls your hand deeper until your fingers brush the thin fabric of her damp panties.

"I want you to touch me, Manager-nim," she pleads, her voice almost a whimper. "I’m scared that tomorrow I won’t be your only one anymore. So... make me feel special tonight." She moves her hips slowly, rubbing herself against your fingers, and you feel the heat building between your own legs, your cock straining against your pants, pressing into her thigh.

You can’t resist anymore. Your fingers begin to move, tracing gently over the fabric, feeling her soft shape and the way her body trembles in response. Seoyeon moans again, louder this time, her head tilting back, her hair spilling wildly over her shoulders.

"Yes... like that..." she breathes, her hands gripping your neck, pulling you into another kiss. Your lips crash into hers, a kiss brimming with lust, as your fingers slip inside her panties, touching her slick, warm skin directly.

She flinches slightly, her hips rocking to the rhythm of your touch, and you feel how fragile she is beneath her usual dominance. "Manager-nim... you’re all I have right now," she whispers between ragged breaths, her hand sliding down to your pants, undoing them with quick yet careful movements. Her fingers wrap around your cock, stroking it slowly, unhurried, as if savoring the moment.

You let out a small groan, the sensation of her hand mixing with the softness you’re exploring between her legs. Your touch grows bolder—one finger slips inside her pussy, feeling the tight warmth that makes her bite her own lip.

"Deeper..." she begs, her voice trembling, and you obey, adding a second finger, moving them in a rhythm that has her gripping your shoulders tightly.

The Purple Room fills with the sound of your mingled breaths, Seoyeon’s soft moans, and the rustle of shifting fabric. She leans in again, kissing your neck, her teeth grazing your skin lightly as her hand keeps stroking you with gentle control.

"Don’t stop, Manager-nim," she whispers, and you realize this night isn’t about briefings or venting anymore—it’s about Seoyeon embedding herself into you before Hyerin arrives.

=================

Seoyeon can no longer hold back. Her breathing quickens, coming in short, ragged gasps, and her body trembles beneath the touch of your fingers, still exploring the softness between her legs. "Manager-nim..." she breathes, her voice thick with a need she can’t hide anymore.

She pulls her hand away from your cock, then, with trembling movements, shifts off your lap and onto the bed. She lies back on the purple sheets, her hair fanning out wildly across the pillow, her eyes locked on yours with a mix of desire and vulnerability.

Her thighs spread wide, an unmistakable invitation that nearly stops your heart. Her hoodie is fully hiked up, her bra pushed above her chest, revealing her breasts rising and falling with each breath.

Her right-hand slides downward, her fingers brushing over her glistening, wet pussy in the dim light of the Purple Room. Slowly, she parts her lips, exposing the slick, pink softness within, waiting for you with palpable anticipation. "I can’t take it anymore, Manager-nim," she whispers, her voice hoarse. "Put it in... I need you now."

You freeze for a moment, staring at the sight before you—Seoyeon, your first member, the one you’re supposed to protect, now lying so open, so vulnerable, yet so irresistibly tempting. Your cock is fully hard, standing rigid in the air after she released it, and your blood surges, urging you to go further. "Seoyeon-ssi, this..." you start again, but your voice dies in your throat, overtaken by an impulse you can’t fight.

She nods faintly, her eyes pleading. "I just want you tonight. Tomorrow there’s Hyerin, but right now... it’s only me." Her fingers keep herself spread, and the wetness dripping from her pussy leaves a small stain on the sheets, a testament to her longing. "Come on, Manager-nim," she urges again, her thighs quivering slightly, awaiting your touch.

You move closer, your knees pressing into the bed as you position yourself between her legs. Your hands tremble as they graze her thighs, feeling the warm, soft skin, then slide to her hips to steady her. Your cock hovers near her entrance, the tip brushing against her inviting wetness, and Seoyeon lets out a soft moan from just that small contact. "Hurry..." she breathes, her hands reaching for your shoulders, pulling you closer.

You draw a deep breath, your mind still struggling to resist, but your body has already given in. With a slow push, you slide your cock inside her, feeling the tight, warm embrace that envelops you instantly.

Seoyeon lets out a long sound—part moan, part relief—her head tilting back as you sink deeper. "Yes... like that..." she says, her voice shaking, her legs wrapping around your waist, urging you not to stop.

The sensation is overwhelming—she’s so wet, so tight, that every inch you enter feels like plunging into something forbidden yet addictive. You start moving, slowly at first, savoring every slide, every subtle clench from within her. Seoyeon grips the sheets beside her, her mouth open as louder moans spill out, her eyes fixed on you with fierce intensity.

"Faster, Manager-nim... I want to really feel you," she pleads, her voice dripping with lust.

You obey, quickening your thrusts, driving deeper until the bed creaks faintly beneath you. The Purple Room fills with sound—your clashing breaths, Seoyeon’s increasingly wild moans, and the undeniable friction of your bodies. She lifts her hips to meet each thrust, her hands reaching for her own breasts, squeezing them as if to amplify the sensation you’re sharing.

=================

Seoyeon suddenly pushes your shoulders with both hands, sending you falling back onto the bed. The purple sheets beneath you feel cool against your heated skin, but it’s not enough to douse the fire raging between you.

She wastes no time—with swift movements, she climbs on top of you, her soft thighs straddling your hips, her eyes glinting with a raw, unbridled lust. "Manager-nim, I want more..." she breathes, her voice hoarse, dripping with unrestrained desire.

Without waiting for your response, she grabs your cock—still hard and slick from her wetness—and guides it back to her pussy with trembling, eager hands. As the tip brushes her entrance, she slams her hips down, taking you in fully with one forceful thrust that draws a simultaneous groan from both of you. "Ahh..." her voice breaks, her head tilting back, her hair swaying wildly as she begins riding you from above.

Her movements are fast, almost feral, with no trace of gentleness left. Her hips rise and fall in a relentless rhythm, each thrust making the bed creak loudly under your combined weight. You can feel every inch of her—warm, tight, and slick—gripping your cock as if refusing to let go. "Manager-nim... you feel so good..." she moans, her voice fractured by her ragged breathing, her hands pressing against your chest for balance.

You’re mesmerized, unable to tear your eyes away from her. Her body moving atop you is a sight you can’t escape—her breasts, free from the bra, bounce with the rhythm, her hardened nipples tantalizing in the air, and her face—lips parted, eyes half-lidded—etched with an expression of unbearable lust. Instinctively, your hands reach for her hips, gripping her soft skin, guiding her increasingly wild motions.

"Yes... hold them..." she pleads, her voice almost a small cry. She leans forward, her hair spilling over your face, and her lips capture yours in a ravenous kiss. Her tongue dances fiercely with yours, while her hips keep riding you, faster, deeper.

You can feel the subtle clenches inside her, a sign she’s teetering on the edge, but she doesn’t stop—instead, she speeds up, as if determined to wring every second from this moment.

"Manager-nim... I want you to only think of me..." she says between kisses, her hot breath washing over your face. Your hands slide up to her breasts, squeezing them firmly, your fingers teasing her nipples until she moans louder, her body tensing above you.

Her pussy grips you tighter, each movement pulling you closer to the brink, but Seoyeon clearly doesn’t care—she’s lost in her own desire, fully in control of you.

You groan beneath her, the sensation of her rapid movements and the pressure of her body overwhelming your senses. Your hands grip her hips harder, trying to match her pace, but she’s the one in charge—she dictates how deep, how fast, how far you’ll go.

"Seoyeon-ssi..." you mutter, your voice swallowed by a groan, but she only flashes a small, triumphant smile, her flushed, sweaty face glowing with satisfaction at seeing you helpless beneath her.

Seoyeon keeps riding you from above, her movements growing faster and more erratic, her hips slamming up and down in a rhythm that makes the bed creak loudly beneath you. Her body glistens with sweat, her hair clinging to her flushed face, and her moans rise higher, almost like small cries of pure ecstasy.

"Manager-nim... I..." she gasps, her voice breaking, her hands gripping your chest so tightly that her nails leave faint marks on your skin.

You can feel her pussy clenching harder, the frequent little spasms signaling she’s on the brink. The sensation—warm, slick, and tight—pushes you to your limit, and you can’t hold back any longer.

Your hands clutch her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh, trying to match her wild pace, but she’s too powerful, too consumed by lust. "Seoyeon-ssi..." you mutter, your voice lost in ragged breaths, your body tensing beneath her.

She leans forward, her face just inches from yours, her half-lidded eyes burning with desire. "Inside me," she whispers, her voice trembling yet firm, "I want to feel you... all of you."

Before you can respond, she speeds up again, her hips crashing into you with deep, forceful thrusts, her pussy gripping your cock so tightly it feels like she’ll never let go.

The climax hits like an unstoppable wave. Your body shudders violently, a long groan escaping your lips as you reach your peak, and with one final thrust from Seoyeon, you release inside her. Your cum surges out, filling her pussy with slick warmth, and she moans loudly, savoring every spurt you unleash, her hips still rocking slowly as if to milk every last drop from you.

Her body tenses above you, her pussy clamping down hard around you, and she reaches her own climax just moments after yours. "Manager-nim!" she cries out softly, her head thrown back, her hair whipping wildly, her body trembling fiercely atop you. Her juices mix with your cum, creating a warm, sticky mess between you, a few drops spilling onto the purple sheets, staining them once again.

Seoyeon collapses onto your chest, her breathing heavy and uneven, her face resting against your neck as her legs still straddle your hips. You can feel her rapid heartbeat against yours, both pounding in unison. Your cock remains inside her, slowly softening, but the warmth of the creampie lingers, a tangible proof of what just happened. "Manager-nim..." she whispers weakly, her voice now soft, a stark contrast to her earlier ferocity. "I feel safe now."

You stay silent, your hands still holding her hips, unsure of what to say. Your mind is a mess—guilt as a manager clashes with the lingering pleasure still coursing through your body. The Purple Room falls quiet again, filled only with the sound of your breaths gradually calming and the scent of sex now thick in the air.

Seoyeon lifts her head, giving you a small, satisfied smile before kissing your lips gently. "This is our secret, okay?" she says, then slowly rises, letting your cock slip out of her, a trickle of your cum dripping from her onto your thigh.

She walks to the en-suite bathroom, leaving you lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling with a shattered mind. Tomorrow, Hyerin will arrive, and tripleS will enter a new chapter. But tonight, you know Seoyeon has etched herself deeper into your life—and this secret will keep binding you, for who knows how long.

=================

Seoyeon disappears into the en-suite bathroom, the faint sound of running water drifting through the closed door. You linger on the bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling of the Purple Room, which now feels both foreign and all too familiar.

The purple sheets beneath you are damp and disheveled, stained with your cum and Seoyeon’s juices—a stark reminder of what just transpired. Your breathing steadies, but your chest still trembles with a mix of intoxicating pleasure and creeping guilt.

You sit up slowly, your body sluggish and heavy, as if you’ve just weathered a storm. With slightly shaky hands, you fix your half-open pants, then grab your jacket from the floor, slipping it on to mask the scent of Seoyeon that seems to have seeped into your skin. Before leaving, you glance at the bathroom door—no sign of her emerging tonight. Maybe she’s deliberately giving you space to slip away wordlessly, or perhaps she’s already satisfied with what you shared. For some reason, you don’t want to know the answer right now.

With quiet steps, you exit the Purple Room, closing the door behind you until a soft click echoes in the stillness. The HAUS dorm of tripleS is silent, its hallways dark save for the faint glow of an emergency light in the corner. You hurry toward the main entrance, the cold night air greeting you as you step outside. The wind bites at your skin, but it’s not enough to erase the heat still lingering in your body. Your phone shows it’s nearly midnight—tomorrow, Hyerin will arrive, and your life as a tripleS manager will grow more complex. But tonight, your mind is consumed by Seoyeon, her touch, and the creampie you left inside her.

The walk back to your small apartment feels like a haze. Seoul’s usually bustling streets are quiet now, with only the occasional car passing by, its headlights briefly blinding you. You opt to walk despite the chill piercing through your jacket, unable to sit still in a taxi with your thoughts spinning wildly. Each step takes you farther from the HAUS dorm, but the image of the Purple Room clings to the back of your mind—Seoyeon atop you, her moans, the warmth as you climaxed inside her.

When you reach your apartment, you unlock the door with hands that still feel sluggish. The small space is dark, lit only by slivers of streetlight slipping through the gaps in the curtains. You toss your jacket onto the sofa and collapse into a chair in the corner, staring at the blank wall ahead.

Seoyeon’s faint scent lingers on your hands, and when you close your eyes, the sensation of her riding you felt vividly real again. "What have I done..." you mutter to yourself, your voice swallowed by the silence.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and when you check it, there’s a message from Seoyeon.

"Manager-nim, thanks for keeping me company tonight. Let’s welcome Hyerin together tomorrow, okay? Sleep well."

The message is simple, but there’s a trace of satisfaction in her words that unsettles you. You don’t reply, just turn off your phone and let your head lean back against the wall.

Sleep doesn’t come easily that night. Your mind splits between your looming responsibilities as a tripleS manager, which will grow heavier tomorrow, and the secret now binding you tighter to Seoyeon. A tie that will shadow you even as tripleS expands to 24 members.

In the quiet of your small apartment, one thing is certain: what happened in the Purple Room tonight isn’t an end—it’s the beginning of something far more complicated.