#◜ answered ◞ ┊┊ from the voice of a fool! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

qwibkwib · 3 days ago

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Deception

Series: Promised 9 Chapter - 2

Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 Baek Jiheon (Fromis_9) X Male reader Word Count: 11.1k+

a/n: It might look inconsistent but bear with me. i omitted the reader's given name this time. Recap: After a long shift, you left your bag at the Golden Brew café and returned to retrieve it—only to stumble upon a secret gathering of nine women, some familiar, some famous. The next day, your memory was hazy, but the illusion shattered when Chaeyoung confronted you. With a veiled threat, she led you to a hotel, ensuring a sleepless night.

You stir awake to the soft rustle of fabric and the faint, lingering scent of lavender. Morning light seeps through the curtains, casting the room in a muted gold. Every muscle in your body protests as you shift beneath the tangled sheets, memories of the night before flickering like fragments of a dream.

By the window, Chaeyoung stands wrapped in a silk robe that clings to her frame like liquid. She gazes out at the city below, her expression unreadable—calm, distant, almost detached. But when she notices you stirring, a sly smile tugs at her lips.

“Finally awake?” Her voice is a low purr, amusement dancing in her eyes.

You sit up, raking a hand through your disheveled hair. “What did you mean earlier… about it being a long day?” Your voice scrapes raw, throat dry from lack of sleep.

She turns, gliding toward the bed with effortless grace. “You’ll see,” she says, deliberately vague. Her robe slips slightly off one shoulder as she leans against the bedpost, watching you.

You glance at the clock on the nightstand and freeze. Shit. “What time is it?”

“Thirty minutes past your last alarm,” she replies, tracing a finger along the edge of the bedsheet.

“You looked so peaceful. I thought I’d let you sleep a little longer.”

“Peaceful?” You groan, scrambling for your clothes strewn across the floor. “I’m late for my shift. Gyuri’s going to skin me alive.”

Chaeyoung tilts her head, her smile sharpening. “Relax. I’ll call her. Tell her you’re… detained.”

You pause mid-motion, shirt halfway over your head. “But they’ll know I remembered everything. The meeting, the Nine—”

“They already know, silly.” Her laugh is light, almost musical. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

You glare at her, but she only smirks, unfazed.

As you yank your shoes on, her voice stops you at the door. “Oh, and if any of the girls ask why you were with me…” She pauses, her gaze sharpening. “Just tell them Saerom will explain.”

You frown, adjusting your bag. “Saerom? The one you called earlier? Is she your… captain?”

Chaeyoung’s lips twitch. “You could call her that. Trust me, it’ll be enough.”

You hold her gaze, searching for answers she’ll never give, before turning away. Her soft laughter follows you out like a ghost.

~~~

The bell above Golden Brew's door jingles as you slip inside, the café's warmth enveloping you—rich coffee, buttery pastries, the hum of morning chatter. But the comfort evaporates the moment Gyuri's voice slices through the noise.

"You're late."

She stands behind the counter, arms crossed, her usual warmth replaced by a frosty glare. The air around her crackles with unspoken tension.

You duck behind the counter, fumbling with your apron. "Sorry, I was—"

"With Chaeyoung?" Her tone is sharp, eyes lingering on the faint mark peeking above your collar.

Your cheeks flush, guilt and shame mingling. Of course she'd notice. "Look, I can explain—"

"Save it." She cuts you off, turning to aggressively wipe down the counter. "I trusted you to be professional. To respect this workplace."

You catch what you think is hurt in her voice, and your stomach twists. Great. Now Gyuri thinks you're fooling around with Chaeyoung instead of working. "It's not what you think. Chaeyoung, she..." You swallow hard. "She said Saerom would explain everything."

The name hits like a thunderclap. Gyuri freezes mid-motion, the rag clenched in her fist. "Saerom?" she echoes, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"That's what Chaeyoung told me," you say, watching her reaction carefully.

The anger in Gyuri's face transforms into something else entirely – fear? She sets down the rag with deliberate slowness, her hands trembling slightly. "Of course she did," she mutters, more to herself than you. When she looks back, her eyes are haunted. "She dragged you into this, didn't she?"

Your confusion grows. This isn't the reaction of a jealous boss anymore. "Into what? It's not like I had a choice—"

"You always have a choice," she snaps, then catches herself, voice softening to something almost desperate. "You could've come to me first. I could've... protected you."

The words hang between you, heavy with meaning you can't quite grasp. Your earlier assumption about jealousy crumbles, replaced by creeping unease.

"Protected me from what?" You step closer, frustration boiling over. "From them? From whatever this is? What aren't you telling me?"

Gyuri's expression shutters closed, professional mask sliding back into place. "You're a good kid," she says flatly, already turning away. "Like you said... Saerom will explain."

The dismissal stings. Before you can retort, she's already vanished into the kitchen, leaving you alone with the echo of her silence.

Your phone vibrates. Reaching into your pocket, the blue screen flashes your eyes, you find messages from a familiar name.

"Where did you sleep? I went to your dorm this morning you weren't there."

The message feels oddly natural. "I'm sorry, I didn't sleep in the dorm, something unexpected came up"

"okay I wont ask more..."

You turn back to work, focusing on the morning rush. The steam wand screams as you foam milk for a cappuccino. Another message.

"Can you grab my textbook from your place when you're done with work?"

You pause. Her textbook? Right – the calculus one she left last week when you were studying. The memory feels hazy, but it must have happened.

"Sure, which one was it again?"

The morning blurs between orders and conversations. A businessman wants his Americano extra hot. A student spills her latte. Your phone buzzes.

"The blue one! Don't tell me you're using it as a coaster again "

You smile, remembering the water ring on her– wait. When did that happen?

"I would never," you type back, uncertain why you're playing along.

The cafe fills with the lunch crowd. While preparing a sandwich, another message arrives.

"By the way, I cooked seaweed soup for you, to bad you weren't there this morning, you know the one that you kept asking me to cook?"

You blink. You were craving for some seaweed soup recently . Though you don't remember asking her for it. But there's that image – her concentrating, in the kitchen one hand om the ladle the other on her phone, trying out the recipe– No. That couldn't have happened. Could it?

"I'm sorry," you reply simply, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

More customers. More drinks. More messages that feel like pieces of a life you're not quite sure about.

"Hey, I can still stay over this weekend right? You promised." (Have you agreed for her to sleep in your dorm?)

"Don't forget your umbrella today!" (How did she know about the forecast?)

Each message slots perfectly into your day, filling gaps you didn't know existed. The strangest part is how unstrange it feels.

When lunch break arrives, you check your messages one last time:

"Let's grab dinner at the usual place? 7pm?"

You stare at the screen. The usual place. Of course – that small restaurant around the corner. The one with the red awning and the owner who always gives you extra–

You stop yourself. What usual place?

"Sounds good," you type anyway, wondering why your response feels so automatic.

You unconsciously find yourself scrolling back at your conversation, seeking comfort after the tense morning with Gyuri. The messages flow past your screen, and something warm unfurls in your chest. Of course – the usual place. That hole-in-the-wall restaurant near the engineering building where she always claims their kimchi stew tastes just like her grandmother's.

Three months ago: "Made it to Prof. Tan's seminar! Saving you a seat " Your lips curve into a smile, remembering how she'd dash across campus between classes just to sit together in Advanced Economics. The way she'd slide her coffee over when yours ran empty.

Six months ago: "Still up for study group? The midterms are killing me" The memory settles in naturally – hours in the library's third floor, her head bent over statistical models, the way she'd explain complex theories with perfectly simple analogies. That was before you picked up the cafe job, wasn't it? But the timeline feels right somehow.

A year ago: "Thanks for helping with my research paper! Dinner's on me " The quiet booth at the back of the restaurant, her excited chatter about her findings, how one dinner turned into regular study dates – everything feels right. Why were you questioning this earlier? The memories slot into place like they've always been there.

Your thumb traces over her messages, each one a reminder of shared moments between classes and coffee runs. The morning's uncertainties fade away, replaced by a gentle certainty. Of course she's worried about where you slept. Of course she checks on you. Of course she remembers which days you have back-to-back lectures.

Suddenly a hand taps on your shoulder.

"Hey, take your lunch break." Gyuri's voice carries that familiar warmth, her smile back as if your morning argument never happened.

You nod, already reaching for your phone to tell her you're heading out for lunch. How strange that you felt confused earlier. Must be the lack of exhaustion from everything that has been happening lately, you think, as you type out a quick "On break now, can't wait for dinner "

"Your on lunch break? Where?" she quickly replies.

"Probably just by the nearby konbini, by the campus, why do you want to have lunch together?" You ask her.

"I would love to, but my lecture just started" she replies.

The konbini's automatic doors slide open with a familiar chime. You grab your usual lunch combo – instant noodles, a triangle kimbap, and milk. The perfect trio. The cashier barely looks up as you pay, already familiar with your routine purchases.

Outside, you find a quiet spot on one of the concrete benches. The noodles steam in the cool air as you stir them, your phone silent now that she's in class. The sky above is a brilliant, crystal blue – the kind of blue that makes you think of clear water, of deep ocean trenches, of falling...

A peculiar heaviness settles over you as you finish the last of your milk. Your eyes drift upward again, drawn to that hypnotic blue expanse. It seems to pulse gently, like a heartbeat, like a lullaby. Your thoughts begin to blur at the edges, memories swirling like cream in coffee – the morning rush at the cafe, Gyuri's smile, messages on your phone, that familiar name, those shared memories that feel more real with each passing moment...

The empty milk carton slips from your fingers as your eyelids grow impossibly heavy. The last thing you see is that endless blue sky, beautiful and terrifying in its perfection, before darkness claims you.

~~~

You wake up with barely enough time before your shift starts. Gathering yourself, you rush back to the Golden Brew. You were already late this morning – being late again in the afternoon will definitely anger Gyuri, especially after the sour conversation you had.

As you run towards the cafe, you realize the nap left you feeling unusually refreshed, more than any normal rest could provide. The body aches you'd been expecting to endure all day have vanished. Your thoughts, heavy with recent events, now feel unexpectedly light.

Your mood lifts further as you step into the cafe. The familiar coffee scent, the cozy atmosphere, the gentle hum of the coffee machine – everything feels right.

You greet Gyuri with a smile, only to find her eyes already fixed on you. There's something different about her look, something you've seen before – her eyes sharp, searching for something.

"You're back. You seem happy." Her voice carries a concern that feels deeper than usual. "Did you meet with someone?"

"No." You smile at her specific query. "Just grabbed lunch at the konbini, got a short nap afterwards."

"Nap? At the konbini?" Gyuri doesn't look convinced. She studies you for a long second before nodding, though the furrow in her brow remains. "If you say so," she murmurs, but there's an edge in her tone that suggests she isn't letting this go.

You clock in and don your apron, moving behind the counter. Seoyeon catches your eye, still in her usual spot, focused intently on her laptop screen. You'd been about to wonder where she was – and there she is, as if summoned by the thought.

Between customers, you reach for your phone to continue your earlier conversation, but the front door's bell interrupts you. Regular customers enter – the usual trio, except they're missing someone. Your eyes automatically search for the third, and an unexpected disappointment settles in your chest.

"Good afternoon, just the two of you?" you ask as you serve their orders.

"Why, are you looking for her? Disappointed it's just us?" One of them teases as they both giggle.

You smile, unable to mask your honesty. "Yeah," you reply shyly. "Where is she?"

"She said she can't come with us, their professor doesn't want to end the class," one explains.

"Also, why are you asking us? You could ask her yourself," the other quickly adds.

"Maybe I should. Thanks," you say, taking their advice.

Back at the counter, you pull out your phone, opening the messages. 'I would love to, but my lecture just started' was the last message of your conversation.

"Hey, heard you're still in class. Your friends were just here. Have you eaten yet?"

'Seen'

The notification catches you off guard. It's not unbelievable, but it's something she rarely does.

"Jiheon?"

You message her name just to be sure.

"Sorry, I was packing up my stuff, the lecture just finished," Jiheon replies.

"I didn't have lunch yet. I'll just wait at your dorm, I'll be eating the soup I left there earlier," she continues.

"Can I?" she asks for permission.

"Of course, I'll finish my shift then go home," you reply.

"I'll be waiting," comes her final message.

“Hey…” Gyuri’s voice pulls you back to the present. “You’ve been fiddling with your phone. Is something wrong? You never do that.”

You blink, realizing you've been staring at your screen for too long.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” You bow your head slightly, but her words linger—You’ve never done this before.

You slip your phone into your pocket, exhaling softly. A warm contentment settles over you, pushing away the earlier unease—the confusion about Jiheon’s messages, the odd gaps in your shared memories, all of it dissolving like morning mist.

Of course, Jiheon would be waiting at your dorm. Of course, she'd eat the soup she made.

Of course, everything is exactly as it should be.

The afternoon light streaming through the cafe windows takes on that same crystal blue tint from your lunch break, but you hardly notice it now. You're too busy thinking about getting home.

~~~

You barely reflected on it, but now as each step brings you closer to your dorm, the weight of your guilt feels heavier.

Hesitant until the last moment, you finally knocked on your own door. No response.

“Jiheon?” You called out.

You step inside, closing the door softly behind you. Each movement feels heavy, like the air itself is resisting you. Jiheon lays there, her chest rising and falling gently, her face serene, untouched by the chaos inside you. She looks so delicate, so trusting, and it only deepens the ache in your chest.

Your thoughts swirl relentlessly as you stand frozen near the door. How could you do this? How could you betray her like that? You clench your fists, the guilt eating away at you. It wasn’t just Chaeyoung’s fault, or your inability to resist—it was you. You crossed the line, and no excuse could absolve you of that.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly walk to the edge of the bed and sit down carefully, not wanting to wake her just yet. The sight of her so peaceful and vulnerable makes it harder to hold everything in.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper under your breath, the words meant more for yourself than her.

But as if she’d heard, Jiheon stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She blinks a few times, disoriented, before her gaze lands on you. A soft smile spreads across her lips, one that feels like both a comfort and a dagger to your heart.

“You’re home,” she murmurs, her voice groggy but warm. “You okay? You look… tired.”

“I am,” you admit, though the exhaustion isn’t just physical. “Did you eat yet?”

“Yeah, I saved you some soup,” she says, stretching as she walks toward the kitchen. “I'll heat it up for you.”

As she busies herself with the soup, you watch her familiar movements—the way she hums while stirring, how effortlessly she navigates your cramped dorm. The domesticity of it all should bring you comfort, but instead, it leaves you feeling even more unsettled.

When the soup boils, she turns off the stove and brings the pot to the table, gently guiding you to sit down.

She scoops some soup with a spoon, blows on it, and holds it out to you. “Come on, eat. You've been asking for this all week,” she says with a soft smile.

“Jiheon, we need to talk,” you start, the heaviness in your chest almost unbearable.

She sits across from you, brushing her hair out of her face. “Is something wrong?” she asks, her tone light, though her eyes search yours with quiet concern.

You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. Her care, her worry—it makes the guilt even sharper. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve her.

“I—” you begin, but she cuts you off, placing a hand gently over yours.

“Whatever it is,” she says softly, “it can wait. You’ve had a long day.”

“No, Jiheon.” You shake your head, pulling your hand away gently. “I need to tell you something. About last night.”

For a moment, her expression falters. A flicker of something unreadable crosses her face, but she quickly forces a soft smile—one that feels more like a shield. “Last night? You mean after work?”

You nod, barely able to meet her gaze. “Something happened, and I—”

“Stop.” Her voice is gentle but firm, cutting through your confession. She leans forward, cupping your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her. “I don’t need to hear it.”

“But—”

“Please.” Her voice trembles slightly, her thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “Let’s not… let’s not talk about it, okay? Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. I just need you to be here. With me.”

“I shouldn't, Jiheon. I’ve wronged you…” you begin, your voice cracking under the weight of your guilt.

“No, you could never do that, okay?” she says, her voice trembling now. “You could never wrong me.”

“Whatever happened that night, I forgive you,” she says, her panic slowly building. “Just… just forget about it, okay?”

As you glance away, the soft glow of the kitchen light catches the steam rising from the soup, refracting faintly against the walls in muted blues and silvers. For a moment, the reflection dances across your peripheral vision, subtle and natural, like a ripple in the air. Your gaze lingers, and without realizing why, you feel the tightness in your chest loosen.

It’s a fleeting, delicate moment—the kind you might’ve ignored on any other night—but it soothes you. The guilt that felt immovable now feels lighter, as though the air itself is urging you to stay, to let go of the weight pressing on your heart.

“We’ve… we’ve been through worse. We can move past this, right?” she reasons, her voice pulling you back. Her words carry the same desperate edge, but the calm from that fleeting moment lingers within you.

“You know I love you, right? Nothing’s going to change that.” Her voice cracks, and tears begin to swell in her eyes.

“No matter what happened, it’s fine. Just don’t leave me… You know I can’t live without you. Please…” she begs, her voice breaking into sobs. Your heart aches as you reach for her, pulling her into your arms.

“I’m sorry, Jiheon. I shouldn’t have thought of leaving. I’m sorry,” you whisper, realizing the mere idea of it is what hurts her most, the guilt now quieted by something warmer, more resolute.

You press a kiss to her forehead and lock eyes with her, tears pooling in your own. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, knowing it will never be enough, but hoping—praying—it can at least start to mend the cracks.

As the tension lingers in the room, Jiheon’s sobs soften, her hands clutching at your shirt as though afraid to let go. You hold her closer, your chin resting on the top of her head.

“I’m here,” you murmur, your voice soft but firm, as if trying to convince her as much as yourself.

Jiheon slowly pulls back just enough to look at you, her tear-streaked face lit with a bittersweet smile. Her gaze searches yours, still heavy with unspoken questions, but she says nothing. Instead, she cups your face with trembling hands, her thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks.

“Promise me,” she whispers, her voice raw. “Promise me you won’t leave.”

You nod, your forehead pressing against hers. “I promise.”

Her breath hitches, and before either of you can second-guess the moment, her lips find yours. The kiss is soft at first, hesitant, as though she’s testing the waters. But as the seconds stretch, it deepens, her desperation and longing pouring into you.

You respond in kind, your hands slipping to her waist, pulling her closer. The room feels smaller now, the world narrowing to just the two of you. The weight of guilt and exhaustion begins to melt away, replaced by the warmth of her touch and the comfort of her presence.

Her fingers wove into your hair, tugging gently as her lips pressed against yours, moving with a hunger that made your pulse race. Her breaths quickened, shallow and uneven, mingling with yours as the kiss deepened. When you finally broke apart, just enough for air, she rested her forehead against yours, her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed, her half-lidded eyes brimming with emotion.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute, the words carrying a weight that made your chest tighten.

“I love you, too,” you replied, the confession slipping from your lips effortlessly, as though it had been waiting to be spoken all along.

Her lips crash against yours again, fiercer this time, fueled by an unspoken urgency. Your fingers find hers, weaving together in a silent promise, gripping tighter as the intensity builds. Her soft, breathy moans are swallowed into the heat of your kiss, felt more than heard, trembling against your lips.

Your tongue slips past her parted lips, tangling with hers in a slow, deliberate exploration. Gasps mingle in the space between you, each one drawing you deeper, pulling you further into the feverish heat of her touch. The air thickens, the world beyond this moment blurring into nothing as the kiss deepens, as the fire between you ignites into something undeniable.

Then—clank.

The sound slices through the tension like a needle through silk. The cup tumbles from the table, liquid spilling in a slow, creeping pool across the floor. Jiheon’s hand, still hovering where it knocked the cup, twitches slightly—caught between embarrassment and the lingering heat of your touch.

You both flinch, startled, eyes locking in shared surprise. For a moment, the intensity lingers, crackling in the air between you. But then, Jiheon giggles—a soft, melodic sound that melts through the weight of the moment like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

That once heavy, almost unbearable atmosphere shifts. Her smile—warm, unguarded—disarms you completely. There’s no frustration, no regret, just her, basking in the moment, unbothered by the mess, as if the only thing that truly matters is you.

Her laughter is contagious. Before you know it, you’re smiling too, drawn into the simple joy of being here, of being hers.

“Bed?” you ask, your voice low, laced with something deeper.

She nods, without hesitation.

You take her hand, guiding her gently, deliberately, until the backs of your knees hit the bed. You sit first, looking up at her, eyes tracing the delicate curve of her face, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. Then, with a soft pull, you lead her onto your lap, her body settling perpendicular to yours, her warmth pressing firmly against you.

As the mood settles, the tension thickens once more. There’s no hesitation when your lips find hers again—no second-guessing, just the raw, undeniable pull between you.

The kiss deepens, slow yet hungry, your hands moving on instinct, fingertips grazing the soft curve of her breast. The fabric between you is a mere formality, a fleeting barrier that does little to dull the warmth of her skin beneath.

Then, suddenly, she pulls back.

Her breath is unsteady, her lips parted as she struggles with her words. “Aren’t I… aren’t I heavy?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.

You don’t hesitate. “No…” The answer is quick but gentle, steady, reassuring. Your fingers tighten slightly on her waist, a silent promise that she is wanted. Still, you sense the hesitation lingering in her, the quiet vulnerability she won’t voice aloud. So, without another word, you shift.

“Here, let’s move you.”

With care, you ease her onto the bed, her body sinking into the mattress beneath her. You hover for a moment, watching her, taking in the way her chest rises and falls, the way her fingers curl slightly as if unsure where to place them.

You place your hand on her breast again, fingers tracing over the soft curve, your palm molding to the warmth of her body as you knead gently. Her breath hitches, her chest rising beneath your touch. “Babe…” she calls out, her voice a little shaky, heavy with something unspoken.

You pause, your thumb circling lightly over the fabric covering her skin. “Huh… what’s the matter?” Your voice is soft, laced with concern, but you don’t pull away just yet.

Jiheon exhales deeply, her fingers tightening slightly where they rest against your shoulders. Her lips part as if to say something—but then she shakes her head.

“No… never mind… it’s nothing,” she dismisses quickly, exhaling sharply, as if trying to steady herself.

But you see it—the way her body tenses, the subtle way her fingers clutch at your shirt, like she’s caught between desire and hesitation.

You don’t ignore it. You don’t push, either. Instead, your voice drops to something softer, something meant only for her.

“We can stop if you want,” you murmur, brushing a thumb over her side. “You don’t have to force yourself.”

Her eyes flick up to meet yours, searching, uncertain for just a second—until she shakes her head. “No, it’s not that,” she whispers, hands coming up to cup your face. Her touch is warm, grounding, and when she smiles, it’s small but genuine.

“Please… continue,” she pleads, voice barely above a breath, yet somehow deafening in the quiet space between you. “I like it too…”

The words ignite something deep in your chest.

Your hands move, trailing down from her chest, fingers hovering just above her skin. When they finally meet her bare midriff—her top having ridden up slightly from all the movement—she shivers under your touch.

The warmth of her skin is intoxicating beneath your fingertips, soft and inviting. You pause, letting her breathe, letting her feel every second of your presence.

And when she doesn’t pull away, when she leans just a little closer, you know—she wants this just as much as you do.

Your hands slip beneath her shirt, fingertips gliding under the fabric, slipping past the lace of her bra until they find her chest. You tease her nipples, feeling the way her breath hitches, her body reacting instinctively to your touch.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you lift her shirt fully, discarding it, leaving her bare beneath you.

You pause.

Your eyes drink her in, taking in every detail—the way her skin flushes under your gaze, the soft rise and fall of her breath, the vulnerability in her expression as she watches you carefully.

She hesitates. “It may not be the bigge—”

“Jiheon,” you cut her off, your voice firm but warm. You meet her gaze, letting every word sink in. “You’re already sexy as you are. I couldn’t ask for more.”

Your hand continues to tease her breast, rolling her nipple between your fingers, feeling the way it hardens under your touch. At the same time, your other hand moves lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her pants, fingertips gliding past the last barrier of her panties.

The heat there is intoxicating, warmer than anywhere else on her body, as if this is where her desire has been pooling all along. You press gently between her thighs, fingertips brushing against her, and feel the dampness already beginning to gather.

“Ah!” she gasps, her body jolting in surprise.

Then she laughs, breathless, cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry… I just wasn’t expecting it.”

You pause for a moment, watching her, feeling the way her thighs twitch beneath your touch. But she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she exhales shakily, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s fine… continue…”

Her cuteness drives you wild—the way she bites her lip, the tremble in her voice, the way her body instinctively presses into your hand despite her shyness.

You obey, rubbing slow, teasing circles against her sensitive spot. Her warmth spreads, her womanhood gradually growing slick beneath your fingers, the dampness deepening with each stroke. She shudders, her breath catching, her moans no longer muffled but clear, soft, needy.

Then, carefully, you push one finger inside, slow and deliberate, your eyes locked onto hers, reading her every reaction.

“Mmnnngg… it’s in… your finger… you’re inside…” she mutters, her voice trembling, surprise laced in every breath as she clenches around you. The way her body reacts, instinctively drawing you in, makes your pulse quicken.

You move, easing deeper, pulling out just enough before pushing back in, curling your finger inside her, coaxing new sounds from her lips.

“Babe… it feels… weird… I… can’t—mmnngg,” she whimpers, words cut off by the moans spilling from her throat.

You can feel it—how she’s growing wetter, how her body is adjusting, how each stroke pulls another shiver from her. Slowly, you try to slide in another finger, wanting to stretch her just a little more—

But before you can fully press in, her hands fly to your arm, gripping you tightly.

“Babe… don’t… please… it’s too much… I can’t…” she pleads, her voice so small yet so desperate.

You freeze immediately. “I’m s—”

Before you can even finish apologizing, she shakes her head, stopping you with a single glance.

“Instead…” she whispers, her hands now hovering over your pants, fingers brushing against your length, feeling the heat trapped beneath the fabric.

Even through the layers, you feel the way she hesitates—curious, nervous, but undeniably wanting.

Excitement courses through you, anticipation crackling between you like static. You strip off your shirt first, then your pants, Exposing your hardness completely before reaching for her waistband. Your fingers hook into the fabric, tugging gently.

“Jiheon, lift up a little…” you murmur, your voice husky.

She nods, her breath unsteady, pushing up just enough for you to slide them down. The fabric glides over her smooth skin, peeling away inch by inch, revealing more of her bare thighs, her soft curves.

And then—there she is.

Her most intimate place bared to you, glistening with anticipation, the soft folds parting just slightly with each shallow breath she takes.

You freeze.

Your eyes drink her in, utterly captivated, completely mesmerized.

Jiheon shifts slightly, noticing your stare. “Why are you looking at it like that?” she asks, her voice laced with curiosity.

You blink, snapping out of your trance, heat rushing to your face. “Uhm… it just looks pretty,” you confess, unable to tear your gaze away.

Her cheeks flushed a delicate rose as her smile bloomed, a beacon drawing you in. She reached out, her hand a soft invitation, cupping your face. Her thumbs traced gentle circles against your skin, a featherlight touch that sent shivers down your spine. Then, with a deliberate grace, her thumbs moved to your lips, gliding from the curve above to the fuller bottom, lingering there, a silent question hanging in the air.

The anticipation was a taut string, vibrating with unspoken desires. You lowered your gaze, your focus drawn to the place where your bodies met, where your tip pressed against her entrance. A low thrum of need pulsed within you.

"Jiheon…" you murmured, your voice thick with the urgency building inside. "I'm putting it in."

Her eyes, dark pools of longing, met yours. She nodded, her breath catching in her throat. "Slowly—" she began, her voice a breathy plea.

But the hunger was too intense, the pull too strong. Before she could complete her request, you plunged into her, your shaft claiming its rightful place within her.

"Ah—" she gasped, her body jolting, a sharp intake of breath as you entered her. Her nails dug into your shoulders, a reflex of surprise, her muscles clenching around you, a hot, tight fist gripping your throbbing flesh with an intensity that stole your breath. She held you captive.

Not fully inside, she was already breathless, on the edge. You tried pushing deeper, but her passage tightened, a stubborn resistance that made you pause.

“!… Ah… nngg… it hurts,” she yelped, a small, pained cry that vibrated against your skin. Her body trembled beneath you, a delicate tremble like a struck bell. You pulled back slightly, a slow retreat, her heat clinging to you, her inner walls pulsating.

Seeing the flicker of pain in her eyes, you decided to be gentler, teasing at the entrance.

You thrust again, a slow, deliberate slide. “Nnng…” a moan, softer this time, escaped her lips, a sound of surprised pleasure.

You pulled back again, leaving her wanting, a frustrated gasp escaping her.

“Hnngg!!”

Only to plunge deeper than before, filling her completely with a surge of heat.

“ngh…” she moaned, her head falling back, an unguarded display of pure sensation.

As you started to draw back, her hands flew to your arms, digging in this time with purpose. Her grip wasn't pushing you away, but fiercely pulling you in, demanding more.

You thrust once again, this time with more force.

“Nhhgg” she responded, eyes wide and fixed on you, her mouth agape, gasping, her body, still trembling slightly, was surrendering to the pleasure.

“Are… you okay?” You asked, a note of concern in your voice.

"Yeah... I'm okay..." Her hands tightened on your shoulders, a flicker of desire igniting in her eyes.

"Please... continue," she whispered, her voice husky with urgency.

You deepened your rhythm, the pace accelerating. Each thrust met with a muffled moan, her grip on you tightening with each movement.

"Babe..." she gasped, arching her back as you filled her. Your hand moved to her breast, gently caressing the taut skin. You couldn't fully enter, her body still tight with anticipation.

"Hnnnnn..." she moaned, a wave of pleasure washing over her.

You moved within her, finding the sweet spot where pleasure met comfort. It wasn't enough to cause pain, yet it was enough to send shivers down her spine. "It... hurts," she breathed, her tongue darting out to catch it. "Kiss me."

You leaned in, your tongues meeting in a passionate dance. Her moans were muffled against your mouth, but you could feel the vibrations deep within her. As you moved your hips, your tongues entwined, exploring every corner of each other's mouths. You felt her body begin to loosen, yielding to the deepening kiss. Finally, you parted, your tongues lingering for a fleeting moment before breaking free.

Your face moved to her chest, your mouth finding her erect nipples. You gently suckled on one while holding the other, eliciting a soft gasp from her. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer.

"Don't suck too hard..." she whispered, her voice breathless.

You moved your mouth away from her breast, replaced by a gentle pinch.

"Nnggf..." she gasped, a shiver running through her.

"Jiheon, your breasts are beautiful," you murmured, admiring their shape.

"Haaa... Really?" she asked, a playful lilt to her voice.

Your hands began to massage her breasts, gently kneading the soft flesh. You moved them closer, teasing her nipples together, rubbing them against each other.

"Babe... I'm sensitive there..." she panted, her breath catching.

You pushed her nipples closer, feeling their sensitive tips brush against each other. Then, you lowered your head, licking them together, savoring the taste of her arousal. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, causing you to thrust harder.

"Ahhhhh!" she cried out, surprised by the sudden increase in your pace.

"Jiheon, you feel so good," you groaned, lost in the moment.

Her hips arched upwards, meeting your thrusts at a new angle.

"Does it still hurt?" you asked, your voice rough with desire.

A smile spread across her face. "No... you're making me feel so good right now."

Her words were like a trigger, shattering your remaining control.

"Then... Jiheon, I'm going deeper this time," you informed her, your voice low and urgent.

"Deeper?" she asked, surprised. "You... weren't—"

You didn't wait for her to finish, plunging deep inside her. Your length was fully buried within her, her body tightening around you like a vice.

Her hands instinctively reached for the front of your pelvis, stopping you.

"Ah— Babe! I can't... please... Don't move... I can't breathe..." she wailed, her body trembling violently.

"Then... shall we stay like this while you adjust?" you offered, your voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

You leaned in close, your hand slipping beneath her head as you pulled her closer, enveloping her in your embrace. You could feel her hot breath fanning against your neck, frantic and now slowing down as she relaxed against you.

As the room settled, you throbbed gently within her, her body embracing yours, making it feel as if you were meant to be there, a part of her. A part of you yearned to remain still, to savor this moment of perfect union.

She whispered against your ear, "Isn't this more lewd?" she asked, a hint of a smile in her voice. "Us... in this... embracing each other, feeling each other's heat through our connection?"

You shifted, wanting to see her face now that the room had calmed. As you gazed down, you saw her smiling beneath you, her hair spread across the bed, some strands framing her face. Her beauty was radiant, enhanced by the sheen of sweat on her skin.

You couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her again, a slow, lingering kiss that deepened with each passing moment. As you deepened the kiss, you resumed your rhythm, your movements slow and deliberate at first, teasing her with each gentle thrust. Her body, now relaxed and receptive, met your movements with a growing eagerness.

You moved your hands to her back, tracing the curve of her spine, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips. You lingered there for a moment, savoring the feel of her before continuing your exploration, your hands moving lower to cup her buttocks, pulling her closer.

"Mmm..." she moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed.

You quickened your pace slightly, each thrust becoming a little deeper, a little more insistent. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, as she met your rhythm with increasing fervor. You could feel the heat rising between you, the tension building with each passing moment.

"Please... continue," she whispered, her voice filled with a desperate longing. "I'm ready now... take me..."

Her words were the final invitation, the key that unlocked the floodgates of your desire. You surged forward, your movements now more forceful, more demanding, as you pushed her closer and closer to the edge.

You grasped her legs, and she slowly lifted her hips towards you, her body mirroring your own peak.

"Jiheon, I'm close..." you murmured, your voice thick with desire. "I'll finish in your stomach."

"I feel weird..." she whispered, trying to maintain her composure, her words punctuated by soft moans. "I think... I'm close too."

She pulled you closer, her lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, a kiss that spoke of shared desire and impending release. You shifted your hands to support yourself as the rest of your body surrendered to the wave of pleasure.

"Ahhhggg... Babe!!!" she cried out, her voice a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

Her body tensed, her arms tightening around your neck, her legs locking around your hips. Her core pulsed, squeezing you tightly, drawing you deeper into her embrace.

"Jiheon, I can't hold it in anymore," you groaned, your control slipping away.

You tried to pull back slightly, but as she held you close, her peak intensifying its grip, your release had no choice but to erupt within her, your fluids mingling together.

"Hmmmgg..." a moan escaped her lips as she accepted your warmth, her body filled with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Her eyes half-open, you caught a flicker in their depths – a spark of joy, of satisfaction, and a hint of mischief, as if she'd done something she shouldn't have.

You collapsed beside her, the aftermath of passion leaving you both breathless

For a moment, you lay intertwined, catching your breath. Jiheon was the first to recover, snuggling closer, her arms embracing you, her cheek resting against your arm.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to finish inside you," you apologized, a hint of guilt in your voice.

"Don't..." she murmured, her voice soft. "I'm more at fault. I didn't let go of you." She paused, then added reassuringly, "And it's fine... it's my safe day.”

You absently ran your fingers through her hair, but your mind was elsewhere – a nagging feeling that something was amiss.

"Jiheon?" you murmured, feeling her shift slightly against you.

"Mmm?" Her response was drowsy, content.

You hesitated, trying to reconcile the fragmented memories in your head. "Tonight felt... different."

She tensed almost imperceptibly before relaxing again. Had you not been so attuned to her, you might have missed it. "Different how?"

"You seemed..." You struggled to articulate the feeling, not wanting to upset her. "It felt like your first time."

Jiheon lifted her head, meeting your gaze with a soft laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Are you saying I'm not usually this responsive?" Her fingers traced distracting patterns on your chest.

"No, that's not—" you frowned, trying to grasp your elusive thoughts. Fleeting images flickered through your mind – your supposed first time together, other intimate moments – but they felt strangely distant, blurred, like looking through frosted glass. "You were in pain."

"Maybe you were just particularly passionate tonight," she teased, pressing a kiss to your jaw. Her voice held a practiced lightness. "Besides, it's been a while since last time."

You tried to recall your last encounter, but the memory slipped away, elusive as smoke. "I suppose..."

"You think too much," she whispered, curling closer. Her hand cupped your cheek, turning your face toward hers. "Just be here with me now."

As you gazed into her eyes, the questions swirling in your mind began to dissipate, replaced by a comfortable haze. She was right – you were overthinking things. Everything was fine. Everything was exactly as it should be. Or so it seemed.

As the night deepened, your whispers faded into soft breaths, and you drifted to sleep together, the unsettling feeling lingering somewhere in the back of your mind, a secret you couldn't quite decipher.

~~~

The morning sun filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You wake up to the soft sound of Jiheon’s breathing beside you, her back turned slightly away. The sight of her, the way the golden light catches in her hair, makes your heart swell.

Smiling, you shift closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and pressing a soft kiss to the back of her shoulder. “Good morning,” you murmur against her skin.

She stiffens, just for a second, before relaxing under your touch. “Morning,” she says, but her voice lacks its usual warmth.

You don’t notice at first. Instead, you prop yourself up on one elbow, brushing her hair away so you can see her face. “I still have time before my shift start,” you say, voice laced with affection, “We didn't get to go to our usual place last night, how about we get brunch there?”

She gives you a small smile, but something about it feels... off. “Yeah… that sounds nice.”

You lean down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before getting up to change clothes. Jiheon watches you from the bed, eyes clouded with something unreadable.