#TripleS Yooyeon

[kwilquib]

Falling for You, Again.

TripleS Kim Yooyeon x Reader

Switching POV

Word Count: 14.4k+

Kim Yooyeon sat upright in the hospital bed, the sterile scent of disinfectant clinging to the air. It no longer unsettled her the way it once did. She had been here long enough to adjust—to wake up every morning knowing she had lost her memories, knowing that her only grasp on the past came from what others told her.

And what they told her was this:

She was married. She was deeply in love. And her husband, who had been abroad for work, had been devastated when he heard about the accident, even more when he couldn't return immediately. Today—the day of her discharge—she would finally go home.

Her parents had been with her since the beginning, threading her past together with their words. Their voices were steady, unwavering—as if the truth could be spoken into existence.

"You and your husband were so perfect together," her mother gushed, her voice thick with emotion. "Always looking at each other like you were the only two people in the world."

Yooyeon held onto the words, testing them, trying to find something familiar in them.

A flicker of memory surfaced. A formal dinner, the gentle clink of wine glasses, a man’s hand resting on the small of her back as they smiled for photographs. She could almost hear the laughter, but it felt distant, muted—like a scene from someone else’s life.

Her father nodded approvingly. "He's a good man. Responsible, capable. And devoted to you, as any husband should be."

Another fragment—her husband adjusting his tie in their shared bathroom mirror, his reflection catching hers. A quiet familiarity between them, practiced and smooth. She remembered feeling something then—a warmth in her chest, steady and certain.

"You don’t remember?" her mother asked hopefully.

Yooyeon hesitated. Did she? The images were there, but they felt too crisp, too clean—like a story well-told, not a memory truly lived.

"I... I think I do. Little pieces."

Her mother brightened immediately. "See? It’s coming back! I always said true love leaves its mark on the soul, even if the mind forgets."

The words settled over her like a soft weight. True love.

With each story they shared, more pieces seemed to surface. Their first dance at a business gala. Weekend brunches with friends where they finished each other’s sentences. Vacation photos where they looked blissfully happy.

Each memory felt genuine—yet the edges of them blurred, like an oil painting smudged by an impatient hand.

She wanted to believe it. She wanted to be the woman they spoke of, the one who had been so deeply in love.

But wasn’t love supposed to feel more certain than this?

The nurse entered with her discharge papers. "Mrs. Kim, you’re all set to leave. Your husband must be relieved—his wife is finally getting discharged."

His wife.

The words settled into the quiet room, lingering in the air longer than they should have.

She had heard it before—"your husband," "your loving marriage," "you were so happy together." Each time, the words had been spoken with certainty, as if they alone could fill the void in her memory.

But this felt different. Final. Binding.

Her fingers curled around the ring on her left hand. The metal was warm, familiar. She traced its shape, searching for something—anything—that felt like certainty.

She waited for the rush of emotion, the deep-seated knowing. It didn’t come.

Her mother squeezed her hand. “Your husband called while you were resting. He’ll be returning from his work trip this week.”

Yooyeon nodded, ignoring the flutter of something in her chest. Excitement? Anxiety? Or something else entirely?

As the elevator descended to the hospital lobby, her parents chatting excitedly beside her, Yooyeon let herself lean into the stories, into the warmth they promised.

If she reached for the love they spoke of, if she believed hard enough—would it become real?

Today, she was going home.

To them.

And maybe, just maybe, to the love she was supposed to remember.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You step into the familiar quiet of your home, and for a moment, it doesn’t feel real.

This place—this moment—was never supposed to happen like this.

You were supposed to come back with a clearer mind, with the weight of your feelings for Yooyeon finally worn down by distance and time. You had convinced yourself that being away, that drowning in work, was the right thing. You had nearly succeeded in quieting the ache of wanting her—of wanting something you were never meant to have.

But then the call came.

The accident. The words you never expected to hear. That she had lost her memories, that she couldn’t remember you.

And suddenly, the distance that was supposed to help you move on became unbearable.

You couldn’t leave. Couldn’t abandon your work, not when this deal had been months in the making. But you couldn’t call her either. You weren’t ready to hear her voice, to confirm with your own ears that she didn’t remember you. Instead, you asked about her indirectly—through doctors, through her parents. Keeping yourself just close enough to know she was okay, but far enough to not face the truth.

Now, you’re home. And for the first time since you left, you can’t avoid her anymore.

She’s in the living room when you step in, arranging flowers—an image so delicate, so carefully composed, that it stops you in your tracks. You never remembered her paying so much attention to things like this before.

“Welcome home,” she says, offering you a small smile. It’s polite, warm even, but there’s something unfamiliar about it. It’s measured, like she’s giving you exactly what she thinks you expect.

It throws you off.

She’s different, and yet—she’s not. She’s not an entirely new person, not a stranger. She’s still Yooyeon, but softened in ways she never was before. Less guarded, less sharp. And it terrifies you how easily she could slip into the version of her you used to dream about—the version that could have loved you back.

You clear your throat, setting down your luggage. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get back sooner.”

Her fingers still briefly over the petals. “It’s fine… they told me your trip was important.” Her voice is light, but there’s something beneath it. A hesitation. A quiet disappointment.

Then, softer, almost to herself, “We could’ve at least talked on the phone.”

Your chest tightens. You don’t know if she’s saying it because she wanted to talk to you or because she thinks it’s something she should say.

“How have you been?” you ask, even though you already know. You know what the doctors have said, what her parents have told you. But you need to hear it from her.

She launches into a recounting of her recovery—how she’s been adjusting, how her parents have practically hovered over her. But as she speaks, something feels off. Her words are careful, almost rehearsed, as if she’s reading from a script someone gave her.

And it hits you—she is following a script.

She’s trying to fit into the life everyone says she had. Trying to be the person they tell her she used to be.

The realization unsettles you.

It should be easy to draw the line. You told yourself, over and over, that this marriage had given you nothing but a lingering ache. That whatever warmth you once felt had long since dulled into something muted, tolerable. Maybe this is the clean break you need—the perfect excuse to finally move on without guilt.

But instead, all the walls you’ve built, the callousness you spent months forging, begin to crack.

You watch her—this version of Yooyeon, untouched by old wounds and past hesitations—and wonder.

Is this a curse? Or is this the only chance you’ll ever have to hold onto something that was never truly yours?

Later, over lunch, the air between you still carries an odd tension—not uncomfortable, just… unfamiliar. You catch yourself hesitating before speaking, unsure which parts of your shared past she still holds onto and which have slipped through the cracks.

"Do you remember the trip to Busan?" you ask, testing again, reaching for a thread of the past.

Yooyeon blinks, her brows knitting together. "Busan…?"

"The conference," you remind her. "Last year. You spent half the time making fun of that presenter’s slides."

She lets out a small laugh but shakes her head. "I don’t remember that at all. But it does sound like something I’d do."

There’s a beat of silence, then a quiet chuckle from both of you—awkward, but not entirely unpleasant.

"Tell me about it?" she asks, tilting her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "I want to know what kind of person I was."

The question throws you off guard, though you’re not sure why. Maybe it’s the vulnerability in her voice, the quiet plea to be filled in on the version of herself that she’s lost.

You hesitate, then exhale softly. "You were—" You stop, correcting yourself. "You are sharp. Witty. You never let anyone get away with nonsense."

She smiles at that, as if it reassures her. "That’s good to hear."

Bit by bit, the stiffness fades.

By evening, it’s different. The space between you, once uncertain, feels smoother, more fluid. It’s not the same as before, but in some ways, it’s easier. Lighter.

Yooyeon touches you more. Small, fleeting gestures—her fingers brushing against yours when she hands you a plate, resting a hand on your wrist when she asks a question, leaning into you slightly when you walk side by side. It’s nothing dramatic, nothing she seems to think twice about. But it’s different.

Before the accident, before the marriage, you thought of Yooyeon as a great friend—someone easy to talk to, someone who made life feel less heavy. When you agreed to the marriage, you thought maybe, just maybe, you were moving toward something more. At first, it seemed like it. The familiarity deepened, your feelings began to take shape, creeping in slowly, almost unnoticed. There were moments—glimpses of what could be—where it felt like the two of you were truly building something together.

But then, it stopped. Or maybe it just never went far enough. She was always there, yet just out of reach. She smiled at you, laughed with you, shared meals with you, but there was always a quiet hesitation in her, an invisible wall she never dared to cross. You wanted more. You wanted to pull her closer, to make her see what you were feeling, but something kept holding you back. Kept holding her back.

Your love for her didn’t fade—it grew. And the more it grew, the more it hurt.

You lived together, spent your days and nights side by side, yet the gap between you remained. A happy marriage, but never quite content. Companions, but never quite lovers.

And now? Now she’s changed. Now, that boundary is gone—not in the way you once wished it would be, but in a way that feels almost unreal. Like something delicate and fleeting, something that shouldn’t be yours to hold.

You don’t comment on it.

You tell yourself it’s just her way of adjusting, of seeking comfort in something familiar.

So you play along.

As the evening drags on, you feel her eyes on you constantly, but there’s no familiar ease to it. No comfort. It’s as if she’s studying you, trying to figure out the person she’s married to, trying to place you into this new reality where you don’t fit. You catch her refilling your water glass before you even ask, adjusting your collar just slightly, even suggesting things she thinks will please you—asking how the trip went, what you did, if you’re tired. Every move she makes feels calculated, like she’s not trying to be the woman you married, but the woman she thinks you expect her to be.

Her actions are all wrapped in politeness and care, but it feels like a performance. You’re a stranger to her now, and she’s just trying to fit the role she believes she has to play.

You can’t help but wonder, does she even know who you are anymore?

After dinner, Yooyeon sets her chopsticks down and looks at you expectantly. “Can we watch some videos?” she asks.

You blink. “Videos?”

“Our wedding, maybe? Or just… us?” She hesitates, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers. “I want to see. I want to remember.”

You don’t answer right away. Something about the request unsettles you, but you don’t know why.

She watches you carefully, waiting. And for some reason, you find yourself nodding.

Minutes later, you’re both sitting on the couch as the TV screen flickers to life. The first video plays—a montage of your wedding day. The ceremony, the smiles, the laughter. The perfect image of a couple in love.

Yooyeon watches intently, her gaze scanning the screen like she’s trying to etch every second into her mind. “I remember this part,” she murmurs when the camera captures her slipping the ring onto your finger. “I was so nervous.”

You glance at her. “Were you?”

She nods, eyes still locked on the screen. “I kept worrying I’d drop the ring. But you… you looked so calm.” She tilts her head, studying the way you held her hand in the video. “Did you feel nervous?”

You almost laugh. “No. It was just a formality, I was rushing for the event to be over.”

The words sit between you, stark and unfiltered.

Yooyeon doesn’t flinch. Instead, she hums thoughtfully. “Still. We looked happy.”

You don’t answer.

The video shifts to another clip—your honeymoon. A trip spent half in public, playing the roles expected of you, and half in quiet companionship behind closed doors.

“You remember this?” you ask, testing her again.

She pauses. “Not all of it,” she admits. “But some parts… they feel familiar.”

She leans into your side, her body warm against yours.

You hadn’t noticed when it happened, but somehow, Yooyeon ended up nestled against you, her head resting lightly against your shoulder, your arm loosely draped around her. The closeness should feel foreign—it never used to be like this—but strangely, it isn’t.

It feels natural. Too natural.

On the screen, the version of you from the past smiles at her, something soft in his expression that even you don’t quite recognize.

Yooyeon shifts slightly in your arms, tilting her head up to look at you.

Your breath catches.

She’s close. Closer than she should be.

The glow of the screen casts soft shadows over her face, highlighting the curve of her lips, the quiet intent in her eyes. The air between you grows heavy, charged with something neither of you acknowledges.

And then she moves.

Her lips press against yours—gentle, seeking. A quiet, hesitant question in the form of a kiss.

Your body reacts before your mind does.

You’d spent months trying to forget, convincing yourself that this love was better buried.

And yet, here you were—undoing everything in a single moment.

You kiss her back.

Before your kisses could get any deeper, she breaks it off.

“I— I should probably take a shower…” her breath heavy. “Before we continue…” she muttered almost a whisper. As she runs towards your room.

The warmth of her lips still lingers on yours as Yooyeon stumbles away, her words barely registering in your mind. Your pulse is erratic, breath unsteady as she disappears into the bathroom. The sound of running water fills the space, but your thoughts are too tangled to process anything else.

You exhale sharply, running a hand through your hair. What just happened?

The weight of her kiss, the way her body fit against yours—it felt inevitable, like something long overdue.

Minutes pass, stretching endlessly until the water finally stops. The door creaks open, and for a brief moment, you catch a glimpse of her silhouette before she vanishes into your room, wrapped in nothing but a towel.

Your heart is still racing as you push yourself off the couch. The air feels thick, charged with an energy you don’t know how to name.

The shower is quick, the cold water doing little to calm the storm inside you. Even as you dry off, the memory of her touch lingers—her warmth, her scent, the way she looked at you before she kissed you.

Steeling yourself, you step into your bedroom.

And then—you freeze.

Yooyeon lies on your bed, the blanket pooling around her bare shoulders, exposing smooth skin bathed in the dim light. Her damp hair spills over the pillows, dark strands curling at the ends.

Your throat goes dry.

She watches you, her expression unreadable, lips parted slightly as if caught between hesitation and expectation.

Then it hits you.

Under that sheet, Yooyeon is completely naked.

And so are you.

The towel slips from your fingers, falling soundlessly to the floor. Her gaze follows the movement, trailing over your body before flickering away when it lands lower—shyness warring with curiosity.

You move closer, sitting at the edge of the bed. Your hand reaches out, fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the blanket. Slowly, deliberately, you peel it back, unveiling inch after inch of her bare skin.

First, her collarbones, delicate and defined.

Then her breasts, supple, rising and falling with her breath.

Your eyes trace the gentle slope of her stomach, the way it tenses slightly under your gaze.

And then, finally, the last of the blanket falls away, revealing the most intimate part of her.

You pause, drinking her in—every curve, every detail, the sheer vulnerability of this moment.

She is beautiful.

You remind yourself not to rush. To take your time.

Slowly, calmly, you lean in, capturing her lips in a kiss—soft at first, testing, savoring. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she melts into you, her hands trailing up your back, fingertips pressing lightly as if urging you closer.

The kiss deepens.

Your tongues meet, a slow, intoxicating dance. Her taste lingers on your lips, warm and sweet. You tug at her tongue, coaxing it out, teasing, savoring every second before finally breaking apart, breathless.

Both of you pant for air, foreheads pressed together, heat radiating between you. Then, you feel it—Yooyeon’s hand wrapping around your length, her touch light at first, then firmer, stroking you, making you harder than you already are.

You tense, instinctively pulling back for a second, startled by the sudden contact. Her eyes flicker with confusion, but you don’t explain. Instead, you press forward, shifting your focus.

Your lips trail down her body, kissing her skin, feeling the way she trembles beneath you. Her quiet moans spill out as you kiss along her side, then lower, past her navel.

You don’t linger. You know she’s already wet.

Positioning yourself between her legs, you part them, revealing her.

“Yooyeon… can I?” Your voice is low, thick with need.

She nods, her gaze heavy-lidded, filled with anticipation.

You lean in, your tongue sliding against her folds, tasting her, teasing her. She gasps, back arching slightly, her moans growing louder as you work her with slow, deliberate strokes. You take your time, letting each flick, each swirl of your tongue build her pleasure.

You feel her body loosening, her walls softening around your touch. Taking it as your cue, you push your tongue inside, warmth enveloping you as her arousal coats your mouth. She’s overflowing, her body giving in to pleasure.

Her legs clamp around your head, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. Fingers tangle in your hair, grasping tightly as her moans turn desperate, erratic.

You hold her thighs apart, refusing to let her escape. The way she writhes beneath you, the way her voice rises with each stroke of your tongue—it only fuels you. Her pleasure feeds your hunger.

You pick up the pace, teasing and flicking against her sensitive bud. She cries out, hands gripping the sheets, her body arching as the sensation overwhelms her.

Then, without warning, you push your tongue back inside, not giving her a moment’s reprieve. Her moans turn to breathless, broken sounds, her mind too lost in the pleasure to form words.

"Fuh…Ah—Nnn… fuah!!!"

Her body tenses, muscles locking up as the pressure builds. Her legs tremble, stretching outward, her hands pressing against your head, trying to ground herself. Her back arches high, head tilting back as the wave finally crashes over her.

And you don’t stop—drawing out every last pulse of her release, savoring the way her body trembles beneath you.

But your hunger isn't satisfied.

Even though she’s already drenched, already ready, you want more.

Moving back up, you claim her breast, taking a hardened peak into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it, sucking, teasing, while your hands knead her softness, fingers flicking and pinching in tandem with your lips. You alternate between gentle licks and sharp bites against her sensitive tips, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips.

A loud moan escapes her, her back arching.

Your eyes flick up, catching the way her head tilts, her neck exposed—a silent invitation.

You answer it immediately, trailing kisses along her skin, feeling her pulse quicken beneath your lips. Each press of your mouth sends another shiver through her, her body reacting to every touch.

But you need more.

Your lips find hers again, and before you can even take the lead, she’s already parting her mouth, welcoming you, her tongue eagerly meeting yours.

The kiss deepens, slow and consuming, both of you losing yourselves in the heat of it.

And then—another moan escapes her, breaking the kiss.

Your tip presses against her, teasing her entrance.

You don’t stop. Instead, you return to her lips, deepening the kiss as you rub your length along her slick folds, coating yourself in her arousal.

Her moans sync with each slow, deliberate movement, her body shuddering beneath you. Her hands cradle your face, fingers gliding over your skin, smearing the mess of your mixed saliva as she pulls you in closer.

Your lips part, but your tongues remain locked in their heated dance, unwilling to separate—until she finally pushes you back, breathless.

"Dear… it’s enough… ah!" she whispers between moans.

But is it?

Doubt lingers, and instead of answering, you dip back down, capturing her breast in your mouth, sucking lightly, flicking her sensitive tips with your tongue. She gasps, arching into you, her fingers tightening against your skin.

You trail back up, capturing her lips once more, silencing any protests. She parts her mouth as if to speak, but you don’t let her—your tongue claims hers again, drawing another muffled moan from her.

Finally, she pleads, her voice trembling with need.

"Please… put it in…"

You pull back slightly, your breathing ragged.

Is it really enough?

Your eyes search hers, questioning and hesitating. You want her completely—but only when she’s truly ready.

Then another thought crosses your mind: rubber. Hastily, you reach for the drawer, but before you can, her hand intercepts yours.

“Wait…” she says softly, holding out a condom. Her eyes sparkle with a mix of impatience and assurance. You know you’re supposed to use it, yet in this heated moment, the raw intensity of your desire makes you yearn for an unfiltered connection.

Clutching the condom in your hand, you feel that inner battle between safety and passion. In one impulsive moment, you decide—raw is what you need. With deliberate urgency, you press yourself against her, entering her without delay.

“Ahnnn…” escapes her lips as she welcomes you. Every thrust is met with her rising moans—a rhythmic symphony that spurs you on.

Your hand slides up to her breast, massaging and flicking it, alternating between gentle licks and teasing bites along her sensitive nipple. The sound of her moans draws your attention to the delicate curve of her neck, where your lips trail a fiery path of kisses.

Her insides grow warmer and more intense with each movement, wrapping around you, pulling you deeper into the moment. Sensing that the intensity might soon overwhelm both of you, you briefly pull back—tearing open the condom wrapper with a mix of urgency and hesitation.

You withdraw slightly, and she moans in response. The pause makes you acutely aware of how close you both are to the edge. Desperate not to lose the rhythm, you fumble to put the condom on again.

Sensing your hurry—and perhaps sharing in your urgency—her hand reaches out, deftly fitting the condom for you. Without missing a beat, she guides your length back to her welcoming embrace. Your body re-enters her, and you murmur her name, “Yooyeon.”

“I'm about to cum,” you confess in a low, husky tone, “but… is it okay?”

She meets your gaze with a smile and a nod of encouragement, “Yes… do it whenever you like.”

Emboldened, you resume your pace, each thrust growing more rapid as your kisses overlap with her soft moans. The sight of her—flushed and panting, eyes half-closed in bliss, strands of hair clinging to her flushed skin—drives you closer to your limit. You grip her waist tightly as her arms cradle your head, locking you together in a passionate embrace.

You feel your release building rapidly. Her hips rise to meet your every thrust as she arches her back, her body moving in perfect rhythm with yours. In a final, desperate surge, your finger finds her clit, adding one last burst of stimulation to the electric mix of pleasure.

“No—… Not—There—” she gasps breathlessly as her body twists with the overwhelming sensations.

"I’m—cumming—cumming… Ah!!!" she cries, and in that climactic moment, both of you shatter under the intensity of your shared release.

Her body convulses as waves of heat and pleasure surge through her, each pulse sending shudders down her spine. The sheets beneath you seem to ripple with the force of your climax, every fiber of your being alive with raw ecstasy. You feel her muscles tighten around you, an unspoken invitation to surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation.

Exhausted yet exhilarated, you collapse beside her, your heads turning to face each other. Her expression radiates satisfaction and joy as she softly calls your name. Gently, she plants a kiss on your lips, then on your forehead, and finally on your nose—each tender gesture sealing the memory of your shared passion.

As her eyes close and she nestles into your embrace, you both drift in the afterglow—a raw, unforgettable moment of intimacy that lingers long after the night fades.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yooyeon stirred awake to the warmth of a steady heartbeat beneath her cheek, her fingers curled lightly against his bare chest. His arms were still around her, firm yet relaxed, holding her in a way that made her feel safe. Wanted. Loved.

A quiet smile ghosted her lips as she let herself sink into the moment.

Last night had been…

Her cheeks flushed at the memory—her own boldness, the way she had moved on instinct, the way his touch had set fire to every inch of her skin. She hadn’t thought too deeply about it at the time. She had simply acted on a feeling—a feeling that told her she wanted him, wanted to be close to him in the most intimate way.

And she had been right.

Being with him had felt good, natural. She felt satisfied, happy, content in a way that only reaffirmed everything she had come to believe since waking up in this life—she loved him.

She was sure of it.

The realization sent a quiet thrill through her. She had been nervous, hesitant, unsure if her memories would ever return, but last night had proven that love didn’t need memories to exist. She felt it in the way she craved his presence, in the warmth that filled her chest when he looked at her.

Yooyeon shifted slightly, pressing closer to him, breathing in the faint scent of him—clean, comforting, familiar.

But then his voice cut through the soft haze of her thoughts.

“That was… unexpected,” he murmured, his fingers absentmindedly tracing slow circles on her back.

She blinked, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. “Unexpected?”

He hesitated, just for a second. Then, with a careful smile, he said, “It’s been a while.”

A while.

The words settled in her mind, stirring something she didn’t quite understand. Of course, it had been a while—she had only woken up to this life weeks ago. But his tone, the way his hand tightened slightly around her waist, made her feel like it was more than that. Like this distance between them wasn’t just from her accident, but something older.

She wanted to ask—why had it been so long?

But the words never left her lips. It wasn’t hard to imagine why. Their relationship was complicated. She might not remember everything, but she could sense it—the hesitance in his touch, the way he always seemed to be holding back, like there was something unspoken between them.

Maybe that was just how marriage worked. Maybe love wasn’t always constant, but something that came and went.

Still, as she rested her head against his chest, the thought lingered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At first, it unsettles you.

The way Yooyeon moves around you so effortlessly, the way she reaches for your hand without hesitation, the way she speaks to you with such natural affection—it’s disorienting.

She doesn’t remember.

She doesn’t remember that your marriage was built on something practical, something strategic. She doesn’t remember that love was never part of the equation.

And yet, she looks at you like it is.

Like it always has been.

You catch yourself hesitating around her more often than not. There’s a strange discomfort in knowing something she doesn’t, in feeling the weight of the truth pressing against your ribs every time she smiles at you. You should tell her. You should set things straight.

But you don’t.

Instead, you find yourself falling into the rhythm of her new version of your life together.

You wake up with her in your arms, and you don’t pull away.

You sit together for breakfast, and when she instinctively places a peeled orange slice on your plate, you take it without thinking.

You come home from work to find her waiting, sometimes with dinner already prepared, other times with stories of her day, filling the house with a warmth that never quite existed before.

And slowly, day by day, you stop resisting.

You settle into married life again—but this time, without hesitation.

She reaches for you first. She falls asleep in your arms, waking up smiling at you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The distance that once defined your relationship is gone, replaced by something warm, something dangerously easy to believe in.

You let yourself fall into the illusion.

One evening, as you sit in the living room, Yooyeon is curled up beside you, flipping through an old photo album she found while reorganizing the shelves.

“Oh,” she says, her fingers tracing over a picture. “I remember this one.”

You glance over. It’s from a ski trip, a company retreat you attended together two winters ago. She had nearly sprained her wrist trying to prove she could keep up with the more experienced skiers. You had ended up guiding her down the slope, an arm around her waist, both of you laughing as she barely managed to stay upright.

“You do?” you ask, cautious.

“Sort of,” she hums. “It’s faint. More like… I remember how I felt.”

You watch her quietly. “And how did you feel?”

She turns to you with a small smile. “Happy.”

Your chest tightens.

There are other moments, too—soft, fleeting, but impossible to ignore.

Nights spent in the kitchen, cooking together, bumping into each other as you move around the stove. She steals bites of whatever you’re preparing, grinning at you when you feign irritation.

Late-night talks, lying in bed with the lights off, her voice quiet but filled with warmth as she tells you about all the things she wants to do, all the places she wants to see. And for the first time, you let yourself imagine being there with her.

She steals kisses—teasingly, playfully, like you’ve always been in love. A kiss on the cheek as she passes by, a lingering press of her lips to yours just before bed. At first, it startles you, but then you start to expect it. Crave it.

And before you realize it, you start kissing her back.

You begin to dream of a life where this isn’t just a lie.

Another time, during dinner, she asks a question you aren’t prepared for.

“What was our first date like?”

You pause, chopsticks hovering midair. “Our first date?”

She nods eagerly, resting her chin in her hand. “I was thinking about it earlier. I tried to remember, but I couldn’t, so… tell me.”

You exhale slowly, setting your chopsticks down. A smile tugs at your lips, unbidden. “You don’t remember sneaking out of that charity banquet when we were seventeen and eating instant ramen at a convenience store?”

Her eyes widen in surprise before a small, delighted laugh escapes her. “That was a date?”

“You called it one,” you say, smirking. “Said it was the best meal you ever had.”

She hums, thoughtful, before grinning. “I must’ve been charming back then.”

“You still are,” you murmur without thinking.

Her expression softens. Then she tilts her head playfully. “That’s cute, but I meant a real date. You know—one where we both knew what it was.”

You hesitate, because you know what she’s really asking.

There was never a first date in the way she’s imagining—no sweet, nervous anticipation, no deliberate choice to step into something romantic. Your relationship had always been tangled in something more complicated.

But now, as she looks at you with expectation, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the edge of her napkin, you find yourself saying—

“Then let’s have one.”

She blinks. “What?”

“A first date,” you say simply, watching her reaction. “One you can remember.”

Her face brightens, eyes gleaming with something warm, something real. “Okay,” she says, smiling. “Let’s do it.”

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—this doesn’t have to be a lie.

You don’t realize when you stop overthinking things.

When she slides her hand into yours while walking through a park, you don’t flinch.

When she leans against you while watching a movie, you don’t stiffen.

When she laughs at something you say, her whole face lighting up, you don’t look away.

And one day, you catch yourself smiling at her when she isn’t looking.

The feeling that stirs inside you is unfamiliar and familiar all at once.

Because the truth is—you’ve always had feelings for her.

You just never let yourself acknowledge them before.

But now, standing in the middle of a life that feels almost real, you wonder if this is a sign.

A sign that maybe, just maybe, you can start again.

And maybe—just maybe—you don’t have to tell her the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yooyeon stood in front of the mirror, carefully adjusting the delicate bracelet around her wrist. A soft hum of excitement bubbled in her chest as she checked her reflection one last time. Their first real date—the kind she had always dreamed of. She wanted today to be perfect. Not because it had to be, but because it already felt like it would be.

She had spent the past hour choosing the right outfit, something that felt effortless yet pretty, hoping he would notice. Hoping he would look at her the way she was starting to look at him.

By the time she stepped out of the bedroom, he was already waiting near the door. His gaze flickered over her, lingering just long enough for warmth to spread through her.

“You look nice,” he said simply, his voice softer than usual.

She grinned. “Only nice?”

He exhaled a small chuckle, shaking his head as if she was impossible. Then, more sincerely—“Beautiful.”

Her breath caught. She wanted to tease him, but the way he said it, like he meant it, left her speechless. Before she could find the words, he extended his hand.

A simple gesture. A quiet offering.

She took it without hesitation, her fingers slipping between his, fitting as if they belonged there. He gave her hand a small squeeze, and together, they stepped out into the world beyond their home.

The day unfolded like something out of a dream.

Their first stop was a small bakery-café, the kind nestled between old bookstores and cozy boutiques. It smelled like fresh bread and vanilla, warmth curling in the air like an embrace. Yooyeon picked a selection of pastries for them to share, carefully choosing the ones she thought he would like.

She watched with barely contained excitement as he took a bite of a strawberry tart.

“It’s good,” he admitted, chewing thoughtfully.

“Good?” She gasped, placing a dramatic hand over her chest. “This is art.”

His lips quirked into a smirk. “Alright, it’s art.”

Satisfied, she took her own bite, savoring the sweetness. The café was quiet, filled with the murmur of soft conversations and the gentle notes of a piano melody playing in the background. She found herself stealing glances at him, memorizing the rare ease in his expression, the way the afternoon sunlight kissed his skin.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like they weren’t pretending.

The movie theater was next. She had picked a lighthearted romantic comedy, wanting to keep the mood playful. He hadn’t protested, only giving her an unreadable glance when she insisted it would be fun.

It was.

She found herself laughing at the silliest scenes, and every now and then, when she peeked at him, she caught the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. He wasn’t laughing outright, but he was watching her more than the movie, and somehow, that made her heart flutter more than anything on the screen.

At one point, when she reached for the popcorn, their hands brushed. Neither of them moved.

Slowly, he intertwined their fingers beneath the dim glow of the screen.

Her heart stuttered. She squeezed his hand lightly.

He squeezed back.

By afternoon, they had made their way to the park, where a small picnic awaited them. She had planned it in advance, packing simple homemade sandwiches and fresh fruit. The air was crisp, the sky stretching endlessly above them, and for a while, they simply enjoyed the peacefulness.

Yooyeon leaned against him, letting her head rest against his shoulder. He didn’t move away. Instead, his hand found its way into her hair, his fingers brushing through it absentmindedly.

Her heart melted.

“I think this is the first time we’ve actually done something like this,” she murmured.

“Like what?”

“Spent a whole day together… just being a normal couple.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then, in a voice so low she almost missed it—

“Yeah.”

She smiled, closing her eyes for a brief second, savoring the warmth of him. The world felt quieter like this. Like it had shrunk to just the two of them, existing in a space untouched by the past.

She wanted to stay in this moment forever.

Night had fallen by the time they reached their final stop—a quiet hill overlooking the cityscape. From afar, the lights twinkled like stars, stretching far beyond what the eye could see. The air was cool, crisp against her skin, but standing beside him, she barely noticed.

“I used to come here alone sometimes,” he admitted, his voice softer, more open. “Just to think.”

Yooyeon turned to him, searching his face. “And now?”

He looked at her then—really looked at her. As if seeing her for the first time. As if realizing something he hadn’t before.

“Now, I think I’d rather share it with you.”

Her breath hitched.

The moment stretched between them, delicate and charged.

Without thinking, she stepped closer, lifting a hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing over his skin. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, leaning into her touch, like it was something he had been waiting for.

Her gaze flickered to his lips.

The tension thickened, the world around them fading until there was nothing left but the space between them.

She moved first, closing the distance, pressing her lips to his in a kiss so soft, so tender, it felt like a secret. He inhaled sharply against her mouth, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, slow and consuming, filled with something warm and terrifyingly sweet.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathless. He pressed his forehead against hers, eyes closed as if grounding himself.

“Maybe we should go home,” he murmured, voice husky.

Yooyeon nodded, still dazed. “Yeah.”

He took her hand again, this time holding it a little tighter as they made their way back.

And deep down, she knew—tonight wasn’t over just yet.

The drive home is quiet, but not tense. Her fingers remain laced with yours the entire way, her grip firm—like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go. You don’t say anything about it. You just hold on.

By the time you step through the door, the house feels different. Warmer, despite the lingering shadows. It’s strange how just her presence can make it feel like home again.

Neither of you turn on the lights. There’s no need. The dim glow from the night city lights outside is enough to guide you through the familiar space. Without a word, you both make your way to the bedroom, as if some unspoken understanding pulls you forward.

And now—here you are.

Sitting side by side at the edge of the bed, your hands still loosely linked. The weight of the night settles over you, thick with all the words that haven’t been spoken yet.

You steal a glance at her, only to find her already looking at you. There’s something different in her eyes tonight—not just longing, not just resolve, but something deeper. Something that makes your breath catch.

You thought you had lost her. And maybe, in a way, you did. But now she’s here, choosing you—not because of old memories, not because of a past you held onto alone, but because of now.

And that’s when it hits you.

You had loved her before. Loved her in quiet ways, in restrained touches, in the unspoken words that always hovered on the tip of your tongue. But now—now, you’ve fallen again. Harder. Deeper.

She tilts her head slightly, waiting. For you to speak, for you to move, for you to reassure her that this isn’t a mistake.

You exhale, threading your fingers through hers, squeezing once. “Yooyeon…”

Her name feels different when you say it this time—like something new and familiar all at once.

She smiles, small but real, and she pressed her lips against you.

And just like that, you fall all over again.

She pulls away, her lips barely parting from yours as she searches your face. There’s warmth in her gaze, a quiet certainty that makes your chest tighten. Then, she smiles—soft, unwavering.

You cradle her face in your hands, and she leans into your touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment as if memorizing the feel of you.

You kiss her again. This time, there’s no hesitation—just slow, unhurried intimacy, deepening with every passing second.

Her hands rest lightly against your chest, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your shirt. You can feel her heartbeat, unsteady yet eager, mirroring your own.

Your hand slides up the smooth curve of her thigh, fingers ghosting over her soft skin before slipping under the hem of her skirt. She shudders but doesn’t pull away—if anything, she presses closer, her breath coming faster, anticipation thick in the space between you.

Your lips break apart just as her gaze flickers down—drawn to the movement of your hand between her legs. She knows what’s coming. She wants it.

Without hesitation, your fingers slip beneath her panties, gliding over her soaked heat. A slow, teasing stroke along her slit makes her breath hitch, her thighs twitching in response. You find her clit, circling it with deliberate pressure, and she gasps—soft at first, then louder as your touch grows bolder.

Her head drops onto your shoulder, her body sagging into you, surrendering. You let your free hand tangle in her hair, stroking her, keeping her close as she clings to your other arm. Her grip tightens whenever you rub just right, her body reacting instinctively, desperately.

She’s soaked now, dripping, her slickness coating your fingers as you ease one inside her. She tenses, then relaxes, her walls fluttering around you as you curl your finger, testing, teasing.

“Hnnng…” A breathy moan spills from her lips, her body trembling against yours.

She leans into you, eyes wide and desperate as they lock onto yours—raw, pleading, and hungry for more. You can tell she’s craving every inch of this moment, and you’re more than ready to deliver.

“Can... can I—like, you... lie down?” she asks shyly, her voice low and breathy.

“Sure,” you reply, a mix of confusion and intrigue in your tone as you both head for the bed. Once there, she starts undressing, and you watch, not quite sure what she’s planning.

“Should I... too?” you ask with a playful smirk.

“Ye—yes,” she stammers, her voice thick with anticipation.

Before long, you’re shedding your shirt, pants, and boxers, leaving you completely bare as you wait for Yooyeon to finish. With a final, deliberate move, she slips off her soaked panties, revealing everything. Her eyes linger hungrily on your throbbing package, and after a deep, steadying breath, she crawls over and positions herself on top of you.

Meeting your gaze, she confesses, “It’s because... last time, you teased me way too much,” her cheeks flushing with both embarrassment and desire.

Before you can even reach out for a cuddle, her hand finds your cock, stroking it with a confident, teasing rhythm.

“Yooyeon...” you murmur, barely above a whisper.

Without missing a beat, she shifts so that her dripping, slick pussy meets your throbbing tip. Her natural juices make every touch wet and irresistible.

“Hnnng…” she breathes as she slowly pushes down on you, her warm, inviting opening taking you in inch by inch. Her body settles over yours, fully engulfing you as she adjusts to the sensation.

Then. Her hips start moving—first slow and deliberate, then quickening into a relentless, pulsing rhythm. The heat of her body surrounds you as she rides you hard, every thrust drawing you deeper into a night of raw, unfiltered passion.

“I can feel it twitch…” she breathes, her voice husky as she asks, “Do—does it feel good?”

“Yeah, Yooyeon… it feels amazing,” you reply, your words thick with desire.

Your lips collide, entangling in a deep, fervent kiss as your fingers cradle her cheeks. The kiss intensifies, every touch stoking the fire between you. Rising slightly, she quickens her pace—her desperation unmistakable as she chases her own pleasure.

Before long, exhaustion begins to claim her, and her movements slow; yet even as she gasps for air, her hips remain insistent, grinding slowly despite her fatigue. Sensing an unspoken urge, you murmur, “Yooyeon, there’s something I want to try,” offering an excuse in case she’s too shy to ask outright.

A quick nod is all you need. You reposition her gently to your side, guiding her so that her head rests on your arm. With her back to you, you slide into her again, savoring the fresh angle as both your rhythms realign. Her moans return, matching the new, steady pace that builds once more.

As your hands explore, hers finds yours, fingers interlocking tightly as the intensity escalates. Your other hand wanders over her breasts, teasing her hardened nipples with every deliberate stroke. “I’m—I'm close,” Yooyeon confesses, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Noticing her gaze drifting back to you, you grasp her chin and pull her into another searing kiss, your tongues dancing together. Shifting once again, you climb atop her, pressing her flat against the bed as you prepare to drive her to the edge. “I’m close too,” you murmur between kisses, the admission fusing your sensations into one.

The pace quickens; her moans grow louder, her movements erratic as both your breaths come in ragged bursts. The heat between you becomes almost unbearable, every thrust and every touch amplifying the approaching climax. “Cum with me… please,” she pleads, her voice raw with need.

In that electrifying moment, her body convulses in overwhelming pleasure. You feel your own climax surge through you as you pull away, releasing your heated burst onto her back. The space between you, though charged with the remnants of passion, holds the echo of every gasp, every moan, and every shared moment of unbridled ecstasy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lying in bed, Yooyeon feels the warmth of his arm draped over her waist, the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back. The room is dim, the only light coming from the soft glow of the city outside. She should be at peace, comforted by his presence—yet something gnaws at her, an unease she can’t quite place.

She traces slow circles on the back of his hand with her fingertips, a habit that feels instinctual, familiar, though she can’t remember why. The motion soothes her, but the ache in her chest lingers. Without thinking, she murmurs,

“You always used to hate holding hands.”

His entire body stiffens.

She feels it instantly—the tension in his muscles, the way his breath halts for a split second before resuming, just a little too controlled.

She blinks, turning to look at him. His face is carefully blank, but she knows better now. Knows enough to recognize the way his guard snaps into place.

“…Didn’t you?” she presses, searching his face for an answer.

He exhales slowly, withdrawing his hand. “I don’t remember saying that.”

But she knows he does.

Her memories aren’t whole—just flickers, shadows of something real but unreachable. Yet, in those fragments, there’s a truth she can’t ignore.

She starts noticing it more—the subtle moments when he pulls away. The slight hesitation before he responds to her touch. The darkness in his eyes when she speaks too easily of their love.

And it starts to hurt.

One night, the weight of it all crashes into her. “Why do you act like this?” she asks, voice trembling. “Like you’re afraid of me?”

His expression hardens. “I’m not.”

“You are,” she insists, stepping closer. “I see it in your eyes. Every time I talk about us, about our past, you look at me like—” Her throat tightens. “Like you’re waiting for something to fall apart.”

His jaw clenches. He looks away. “Yooyeon, drop it.”

But she can’t. She won’t.

“Why did we choose the beach?” she asks suddenly, searching his face for the truth she feels slipping through her fingers.

His arm stiffens around her shoulders. “You wanted something grand.”

No. The memory surfaces, unbidden. I wanted it small. Private. Just us.

His gaze is raw, almost pained, as if she’s a ghost he can’t touch. When she reaches for him, he hesitates—a heartbeat too long—before brushing a kiss to her temple.

Something inside her cracks.

The fear she’s been trying to suppress rises to the surface, wrapping around her throat, making it hard to breathe. She needs to hear it. Needs him to say it.

“Did you love me from the start?” she whispers in bed that night, her palm flat against his chest, feeling the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat.

He goes still. Seconds stretch into something unbearable before he answers,

“Yes.”

But it’s the wrong kind of yes—heavy with guilt, not devotion.

She sits up, the sheets pooling around her. “Then why does it feel like you’re lying to me?”

His jaw tightens. Moonlight catches the sheen of sweat at his temple.

“Yooyeon—”

“Tell me the truth.” Her voice cracks. “Please.”

He turns away, his silhouette rigid against the night. “You’re still recovering. We shouldn’t—”

“Stop treating me like I’ll break!” The words burst out sharper than she intends. When she grabs his wrist, he flinches.

He actually flinches.

Her breath catches. “You… you’re scared of me.”

“No.” But his pulse is racing beneath her fingers.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” She cups his face, forcing his gaze to meet hers. What she sees there steals the air from her lungs—anguish, regret, something deeper, darker.

His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“Because when you remember everything… you’ll wish I hadn’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You notice it the moment you step inside.

The air feels different—thicker, colder, heavy in a way that has nothing to do with temperature. Some of the lights are off, casting the house in an eerie dimness, as if it were holding its breath.

And Yooyeon—she isn’t there to greet you.

That alone makes you pause. Even on days when she’s distracted, even when she’s lost in thought, she always turns at the sound of the door unlocking. Always lifts her head, always meets your gaze.

But tonight, she doesn’t.

Your chest tightens. You don’t even take off your coat before stepping further inside, following the faint glow of the living room lamp.

Then you see her.

She’s sitting on the couch, unnaturally still. Her hands rest in her lap as if she’s forcing them to stay there. But it’s her eyes that give her away—locked onto something on the table, unblinking.

A single sheet of paper.

Something prickles at the back of your neck.

“…Yooyeon.”

She flinches. It’s subtle, barely noticeable, but you catch it.

Then, like a switch, she turns to you, a smile flickering onto her lips—too practiced, too forced. “You’re home.”

Your gut twists. Something is wrong.

Still, you don’t press. You nod, greeting her quietly. She nods back, but her fingers tighten against the fabric of her dress, her nervousness seeping into you.

You tell yourself to let it go. To wait. If it’s important, she’ll bring it up.

So you step away, heading toward your home office. The silence follows you.

You place your briefcase down, reaching for the drawer to put away your documents—

—and stop.

The drawer is open.

Your heart stutters.

It shouldn’t be. You always keep it locked. You always make sure.

Your breath is shallow as your eyes lower—and then you see it.

The contract.

The one detailing everything. The terms of your marriage.

The proof of how pragmatic your relationship was.

The paper that stands in direct contrast to the warmth you’ve built with her now.

Your pulse pounds.

Yooyeon.

She saw it.

You’re moving before you can think, your footsteps brisk as you retrace your steps, each second stretching unbearably long.

When you step into the living room again, she’s already looking at you.

Panic. That’s what you see first. She opens her mouth, stumbling over her words, voice thin and desperate, like she’s trying to contain a flood. “I—I found it when I was cleaning. I didn’t mean to pry, I just—”

She stops, swallowing hard. Then, softer, like she already knows she won’t like the answer:

“…What does it mean?”

Your throat tightens.

The weight of it crashes between you, an invisible force pressing against your chest, against your ribs.

She knows.

She doesn’t know.

Not completely. Not yet. But she’s one breath away from understanding.

You could lie. You could say it was nothing. That it was just an old, forgotten document. You could keep pretending.

But you don’t.

Because the truth is already here, unraveling between you.

You exhale, stepping forward, your voice quiet, steady.

“Yooyeon… there’s something I need to tell you.”

The silence is suffocating.

Yooyeon doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t have to. You see it in her eyes. The confusion, the disbelief, the quiet, desperate hope that this isn’t what she thinks it is.

You wish you could spare her. Wish you could rewind to a moment before she found that damned contract, before she looked at you with that kind of fragile, breaking expression.

But you can’t.

So you force yourself to meet her gaze, force yourself to let the truth spill before it’s too late.

“Our marriage wasn’t… real. At least, not the way you think it was.”

Her breath catches.

You don’t look away. “It was arranged. A contract. Your parents and mine, they wanted us to marry. We went along with it.”

Her lips part, but no words come out. You can see the gears turning in her head, the memories she’s tried so hard to piece together now twisting into something cruel, something she never saw coming.

She swallows. “So… so you’re saying…” Her voice shakes. “It was all fake?”

Something twists in your chest.

“No,” you say immediately. Desperately. “No, I—” You drag a hand down your face, frustration clawing at you. “It wasn’t like that. Not for me.”

She flinches.

And that’s when it happens—the moment her heart breaks.

You can see it, feel it, the way her entire body tenses like she’s trying to hold herself together, but the cracks are already there, spreading, widening.

“…Every time you told me you loved me,” she whispers, “was it just part of the act?”

“Yooyeon.” Your voice is strained, pleading. “I didn’t lie about loving you. I just never had the courage to tell you the truth.”

She stares at you.

Then she lets out a quiet, shaky laugh—one that isn’t amused at all.

She takes a step back. Then another.

Your stomach drops.

She’s leaving.

You don’t know where, don’t know if she even has anywhere to go, but she’s walking away from you.

“Yooyeon, wait—”

She shakes her head. “I need to think.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I just… I need to think.”

Everything in you screams to stop her. To explain, to beg, to do anything but let her go.

But you don’t.

Instead, you inhale sharply and take a step back first.

“I’ll give you space,” you say, though it nearly kills you. “But don’t leave. Please.”

She hesitates.

You reach for her hand—just barely, just enough for her to know you would still hold on if she let you.

And finally, finally, she exhales, her shoulders dropping as if she’s too exhausted to fight anymore.

“…Okay,” she whispers.

She stays.

But the distance between you has never felt wider.

You exhale, slow and measured, though everything inside you is fraying at the edges.

“I’ll stay at a hotel,” you say, voice quiet but firm. “For as long as you need.”

Yooyeon doesn’t respond right away. She’s still looking at you like she doesn’t know who you are anymore. Like she’s seeing you for the first time and hating that she ever trusted you.

It’s unbearable.

“I don’t want you to feel trapped here,” you continue, forcing the words out despite the knot in your throat. “I don’t want you to think I’m keeping you in a place built on lies.”

Her breath stutters, but she quickly masks it. She’s still trying to be strong.

You wish she wouldn’t.

You wish she’d yell at you, cry, say something that doesn’t feel like an unbearable silence stretching between you.

“Okay,” she finally whispers.

You nod, forcing yourself to move. To walk away first, even when every instinct in you screams to stay.

But before you reach the door, her voice stops you.

“How long?”

You turn, eyes meeting hers.

“How long were you going to keep this from me?” she asks, arms wrapping around herself. “If I hadn’t found out… would you have ever told me?”

The truth is cruel, but it’s the only thing she deserves now.

“…I don’t know.”

Yooyeon swallows, then looks away.

That’s when you realize—you’ve broken something that might never be fixed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yooyeon wakes up alone.

The bed feels bigger now, colder, the silence stretching around her like an unwelcome embrace. She lies there for a moment, staring at the empty space beside her, before finally sitting up.

Another day.

She moves through the house like a ghost, her footsteps quiet, her routine unchanged—yet everything feels different. The kitchen table where they used to share quiet breakfasts, the couch where he used to sit, sifting through papers while she curled up beside him. It’s all the same, and yet it isn’t.

Because he’s not here.

He never called. Never came back.

She should be relieved. This is what she wanted, wasn’t it? Space. Time.

But instead, all she feels is this aching loneliness.

Her eyes fall to the coffee table, where the contract still sits, edges curled from how often she’s touched it, read it, searched it for something—anything—that could make this hurt less.

Each word, each line, feels heavier now. A binding agreement, an arrangement born from necessity. But as the days pass, as she reads it over and over, something in her shifts.

It was never just that.

Her mind drifts back to that night—his voice, raw with emotion.

"I didn’t lie about loving you. I just never had the courage to tell you the truth."

She remembers the way he looked at her, desperate, conflicted, afraid. She hadn’t been able to see it then, too consumed by the betrayal, by the weight of everything she didn’t know. But now, with time, with distance—

Hadn’t she felt the same way?

She rests a hand over the contract, fingers trembling slightly.

Her memories come in fragments. Unclear at first, like pieces of a puzzle she can’t quite fit together. But slowly—painfully, inevitably—they start to return.

She remembers loving him. Wanting him. Long before marriage was even a question.

They had been friends first, before their parents had forced them together. But she had never felt trapped, had never resented the idea. Because she had wanted it too.

She had been happy, at first. Happy at the opportunity to be something more, to step into a future where she could love him freely.

But then—she hesitated.

Fear had crept in, silencing her before she could say the words, before she could risk what they already had. She had told herself it was better this way. Safer.

And then—

The accident.

The memories she had lost. The love she had forgotten.

Yooyeon lets out a shaky breath, pressing her palm against her forehead.

She had already fallen for him before the marriage.

And now—she's not going to lose him again.

She already lost him once to her memories. She won’t let it happen a second time.

It doesn’t matter how it all started, doesn’t matter what had happened before. She had fallen for him before. More importantly is that she fell for him again.

She loves him. Now.

And that’s enough.

Her hands tighten around the contract for a moment before she exhales, setting it aside. She grabs her coat, her keys. She needs to see him.

She needs to fix this.

Without another thought, she heads for the door, heart pounding as she makes her way to his hotel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t expecting her.

Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

Days had passed, stretching into something unbearable, something you forced yourself to endure because it was what she needed. Space. Time. A chance to decide if she even wanted to come back.

You had told yourself you wouldn’t wait forever. That if she wanted to leave, you would let her. That you wouldn’t be selfish—not anymore.

But when the knock comes, sharp and hesitant against the hotel door, your heart betrays you.

You open it, and there she is.

Yooyeon stands in the dim hallway, arms wrapped around herself, eyes flickering with uncertainty. Her hair is slightly damp, as if she’d rushed here without thinking twice. Her lips part, as if searching for something to say—something to explain why she’s here at all.

But then she steps forward.

Her hands reach for you first, fingers curling into your shirt, and before you can ask, before you can even breathe—

She kisses you.

It’s not careful. Not hesitant. Not like before.

It’s deep, unrestrained, filled with something desperate and aching, like she’s trying to grasp something that’s always felt just out of reach.

You’re stunned. For half a second, your body locks up—because how could you have prepared for this? For her? For the way she clings to you, pressing herself close like she’s afraid to let go?

And then you give in.

Your arms wrap around her, pulling her fully into you, returning the kiss with everything you’ve held back for too long.

She came back.

She wants this.

When she finally pulls away, her forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling in the small space between you. “I don’t want to remember a love we pretended to have.” Her voice is quiet, steady despite the way her fingers tremble against your chest. “I want to love you for real.”

The words hit harder than you expect.

You swallow, pressing your lips together, hands tightening at her waist. “Are you sure?”

Her answer is immediate. “Yes.”

And that’s all you need.

You don’t know how you make it to the bed. Only that she doesn’t let go. That every step, every kiss, every touch feels like something slipping back into place—like something that had always been there, waiting to be found.

She’s warm against you, tucked under the sheets, her body curled into yours as if she belongs there.

And maybe she does.

Her head rests against your chest, fingers playing absently with the fabric of your shirt. She’s quiet, but not distant. Not like before.

You hesitate, then run a hand down her back, slow, deliberate. She shivers, but doesn’t pull away.

“I thought I lost you,” you admit, voice low in the quiet.

She shifts, tilting her head up to meet your gaze. In the dim light, her eyes are soft, filled with something painfully tender.

“I won’t leave you,” she murmurs.

You inhale sharply.

She presses her hand against your chest, right where your heartbeat pounds—steady, strong.

“Not again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Their steps were slow, unhurried, yet every kiss, every touch, pulled them further inside, as if gravity itself was drawing them together. Yooyeon wasn’t even sure who was leading. It didn’t matter. Between soft sighs and the heat of his hands on her waist, guiding her closer, she only realized they had reached the bed when the backs of her knees met the edge.

She looked up at him, breathless, her pulse thrumming with anticipation. There was no hesitation this time, no uncertainty. Just them.

She kissed him again, rising onto her toes to meet him, her lips warm and insistent. He responded without pause, deepening the kiss, his hands steady on her waist as he pulled her closer. The sensation of him, solid and warm, sent a shiver racing down her spine.

Then, he pulled away just enough to rise above her, his gaze heavy with intent. Yooyeon’s breath caught, her skin buzzing with anticipation as his fingers found the hem of her sweater. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it, the fabric sliding over her skin, gathering just above her chest. Cool air met the warmth of her body, sending a shiver through her as her stomach and the lace-covered swell of her breasts were revealed to him.

Her heart pounded as he leaned down, his lips tracing a slow, unhurried path along her jaw, then lower, down the delicate curve of her neck. Every press of his mouth left her skin tingling, warmth pooling deep inside her. His hands followed, tender yet assured, cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks. A quiet sigh escaped her, her back arching instinctively into his touch, silently urging him on.

His fingers skimmed the slope of her waist, tracing along her ribs before venturing lower. The anticipation made her breath stutter, her senses sharpening as his hand found the waistband of her jeans. She felt his fingers slip past the fabric with ease, the heat of his touch pressing against the thin lace of her panties.

A sharp breath hitched in her throat as he explored, teasing at her center with slow, deliberate strokes. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure curling through her. She clung to his shoulders, her grip tightening as he pushed her further into sensation—patient, unhurried, savoring every reaction she gave him.

Beside her, his warmth enveloped her, grounding her even as his fingers continued their slow, teasing rhythm. Every movement was precise, coaxing, igniting a fire deep within her. She could feel the way her hips responded, rising instinctively to meet his touch, chasing the pleasure he so expertly drew from her.

Her breath came in quiet, uneven gasps, each one only spurring him on. His gaze flickered between her flushed face and the way her body moved under his touch, drinking in every sound, every shiver.

Then, seamlessly, their position shifted. He sat up, pulling her with him, his arms wrapping around her as he cradled her against his chest. Her head rested against the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, her breath shaky, her body trembling in his hold. Yet his hand remained between her thighs, never faltering, never rushing—just holding her there, guiding her deeper into sensation.

She clung to him, her fingers gripping his shirt as if anchoring herself against the pleasure that threatened to consume her entirely.

“Yooyeon…” He whispers her name, his voice deep and coaxing.

His free hand stroked her hair, tender and grounding—a stark contrast to the way his other hand moved with aching precision. She gasped, thighs trembling around his wrist, and he tightened his hold around her, murmuring soft reassurances against her temple.

She could feel his arousal pressing against her through his pants, heat radiating from him. Instinctively, her hand drifted down, palm grazing over the rigid outline. A quiet sigh escaped him at her touch.

“I want to make you feel good,” she whispered, her voice laced with quiet desire.

A silent agreement passed between them as he slowly withdrew his hand from between her thighs, releasing her just long enough to let them shift.

Yooyeon pulled her sweater over her head, the fabric slipping away to reveal bare skin beneath. He helped her, his fingers grazing along her arms as he eased it off. She returned the gesture, undoing the buttons of his shirt, pushing it from his shoulders, baring him to her touch.

Piece by piece, they undressed—her bra, her jeans, the soft slide of lace slipping down her legs until nothing remained between them. She moved closer, hands finding the buckle of his belt, unfastening it with deliberate care. He watched her, breath shallow, as she worked the zipper down, easing his pants over his hips and letting them pool at his feet.

Left only in his boxers, his arousal strained against the fabric, the tension between them thick with anticipation. Settling between his legs, Yooyeon reached for the waistband, fingers curling around it as she tugged it down, inch by inch. The moment the fabric gave way, his erection sprang free, no longer bound by restraint.

She glanced up at him, lips slightly parted, her breath warm against his skin. He looked down at her, eyes dark with something between restraint and longing.

“Yooyeon… you don’t have to,” he murmured, his voice low, hesitant.

She shook her head, her heart aching at how gentle he was with her. “But I want to.”

And she did. It wasn’t just about desire—it was something deeper, something that went beyond the heat simmering between them. She wanted to show him how much he meant to her, how much she trusted him, how much she loved him. Every touch he had given her had been filled with tenderness, with devotion. She wanted to give that back to him now, to see him unravel because of her.

Holding his gaze, she leaned in, letting her lips brush against him first—soft, deliberate, reverent. His breath caught. Encouraged, she let her tongue flick out, tasting him, before slowly taking him into her mouth. He twitched against her tongue, and a quiet groan slipped from his lips. The sound sent warmth curling through her, not just from arousal, but from the knowledge that she could bring him pleasure like this. That he would let her. That he wanted her to.

She moved slowly, savoring the weight of him, the heat, the way his fingers threaded through her hair—not to guide her, not to demand, but simply to touch, to hold. His restraint was palpable, and it only made her more determined to make him feel good.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and the sight of him nearly stole her breath. His jaw was clenched, his brows drawn together, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. But it was his eyes that struck her most—heavy-lidded, filled with something deep, something raw. It wasn’t just lust. It was trust. It was need. It was him letting her in, completely.

She took him deeper, her fingers gripping his thighs as she found a rhythm—slow, unhurried, giving him everything she had. She wanted him to feel it—to feel her. To know that this was more than just pleasure, that it was her love, her devotion, poured into every movement.

“Yooyeon…” His voice was strained, rough with need.

She stilled immediately, understanding him without question. He wasn’t asking her to stop—he just wanted something different. Something more.

He reached for her, his hands open, waiting. Without hesitation, she took them, letting him guide her up, pulling her closer.

She followed his lead, moving effortlessly into his lap, their bodies pressing together as she settled atop him. Face to face now, her knees hugged his sides, her chest brushing against his with every breath. A sharp shiver ran through her as she felt him—hot, hard, pressing against her stomach, the intimacy of their position making her pulse race.

She gazed at him, her fingers trailing over his shoulders, his neck, his jaw, memorizing every inch of him. His eyes, dark and unreadable, searched hers, and for a moment, they simply breathed together, held in the gravity of this moment.

Slowly, tenderly, she leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss—one filled with everything she couldn’t say out loud.

But she wanted to show him. To give him everything.

Her gaze drifted downward as she reached between them, her fingers grazing along his hardness, feeling the heat of him against her palm. A quiet shiver ran through her as she caressed him, taking her time, savoring the way he responded to her touch. With careful precision, she guided him, adjusting her position, her body instinctively preparing to take him in.

And then, without hesitation, she moved.

A quiet gasp left her lips as she slowly enveloped him, her body stretching to accommodate him, every inch sending waves of sensation through her. Her arms wrapped around his neck, seeking both support and connection, her forehead resting briefly against his as she took a steadying breath.

She felt him—deep, warm, filling her completely. But more than anything, what she felt was joy. A slow, radiant smile formed on her lips as she met his gaze, her heart swelling with something beyond just pleasure.

And then, as if that smile was all the invitation he needed, he began to move.

The first thrust sent a sharp, sweet pleasure rippling through her, her breath catching before it spilled out in a quiet moan. The next had her clutching onto him, overwhelmed by the intensity of feeling. The sound of their mingled breaths, the heat between them, the way their bodies moved together—it was all-consuming.

She melted into him, lost in the rhythm, lost in him.

The intensity overwhelmed him, and he fell back, bringing her with him. A gasp left Yooyeon’s lips as she followed, her body molding against his as his thrusts remained unrelenting. His hands moved to her hips, then lower, gripping her firmly as he guided her movements, driving her deeper into pleasure.

She felt the heat, the desperation between them, the way their bodies refused to part even for a second. Every movement sent another wave of sensation crashing through her, pushing her closer to the edge.

But she wanted more than just the pleasure. She wanted him—completely.

Yooyeon cupped his face, her fingers threading into his damp hair as she looked down at him. His jaw was clenched, his brows furrowed, lost in the sheer intensity of their connection. She could see it, feel it—the tension coiling tight within him.

So she kissed him.

Soft at first, then deeper, her lips parting to welcome him, their tongues meeting in a slow, tangled dance. She poured herself into the kiss, coaxing, soothing, grounding him even as the pleasure consumed them both.

And slowly, she felt him relax beneath her, surrendering to her touch, to her.

As his pace became less erratic, she adjusted, matching his rhythm with newfound confidence. She learned his movements, feeling the way their bodies aligned, and slowly, she took control—rolling her hips in time with his, meeting each thrust with her own.

Their breaths synced, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

She felt it in the way he held her, in the way his hands tightened on her waist, guiding her but letting her lead. A quiet thrill coursed through her at the unspoken understanding between them, at the way he let her set the pace, trusting her, surrendering to her.

Their eyes met, locking in an intimate gaze, the world around them fading away. There were no words—there was no need for them. In that moment, everything was clear.

It was just them.

“Yooyeon… I’m close…” His voice was ragged, strained, barely holding on.

She gasped, her fingers tightening against his shoulders as pleasure coiled tighter inside her. “Me too…” she whispered, her breath hitching. Then, she met his gaze, her eyes soft, full of trust. “You can… it’s fine.”

A shudder ran through him at her words, at the quiet certainty in her voice.

And then, together, they unraveled.

His grip on her waist tightened as he thrust deep, his release spilling into her just as she came undone around him. A sharp, breathless cry escaped her lips as pleasure surged through her, overwhelming, consuming. She trembled in his arms, her body clinging to his as the waves of ecstasy pulsed through them both.

For a long moment, neither of them moved—just the sound of their breaths mingling, their bodies still entwined, the warmth of each other keeping them grounded.

Slowly, Yooyeon melted against his chest, her heart still racing, a soft, contented sigh escaping her.

They had never felt closer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up before her.

The first thing you notice is the weight of her arm draped over your chest, her fingers lightly curled against your skin. The second is how deeply she sleeps—peaceful, unguarded, as if she belongs here, as if there was never a time when she didn’t.

Something tight eases in your chest.

You should move, should slip away before she stirs, but you don’t. You just lie there, watching the slow rise and fall of her breathing, the way the early morning light catches the strands of her hair.

She came back.

Not out of obligation. Not because of memories.

But because she chose you.

Your fingers brush over her knuckles, tracing the shape of her hand. She shifts at the touch, her brows scrunching slightly before her eyes flutter open.

For a second, she blinks at you, dazed with sleep. Then, she smiles—small, warm, real. "You're staring."

You huff a quiet laugh. "You're the one who came here in the middle of the night and threw yourself at me."

She flushes, burying her face into your chest. "I did not throw myself at you."

"You did." You smirk, tightening your hold around her. "Not that I’m complaining."

She groans but doesn’t pull away, only presses closer. You feel the sigh she lets out, something soft and content against your skin.

Then, quieter, almost hesitant—“What happens now?”

Your grip on her tightens slightly.

Because the truth is, you don’t know.

There is no contract binding you anymore. No pretense of a marriage built on expectations, no excuse to hide behind the illusion of what you used to be.

There is only this—the love she chose to give you.

And you—the love you’ve always had for her.

You exhale, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We take it one day at a time.”

She tilts her head up, searching your face. You meet her gaze, your voice quieter when you add, “And this time, we don’t hide.”

Her expression softens. She lifts a hand, cupping your cheek, her thumb brushing just below your eye.

"Okay," she whispers.

And just like that, it’s decided.

This time, it’s real.

No pretending. No distance.

Just you and her.

[4m1rz]

Pool Relieve

TripleS Yooyeon x Male Reader

Tags: pool sex, mommy kink, creampie

If you have the opportunity to be close with your favourite member in your favourite group, what would you do? How would you feel?

Well, this incident happens to Do Kangdae. He is a very huge fan of Kim Yooyeon since she was in the survival show, My Teenage Girl. He watched every single episode of the show until the final episode as she wasn't able to be in the debut lineup. He feels devastated as his favourite girl couldn't make it to the debut lineup as he puts his efforts in voting for her in every single episode.

One day, he scrolls on his Twitter account and sees a notification that Yooyeon will be joining a group called tripleS. And obviously, his feelings went to the roof and he's hoping that she will be able to debut. By the time when the group’s first subunit makes it debut, he is so enthralled especially since Yooyeon is in the sub-unit.

As the time passes by, it's already the comeback season with the group having a new sub-unit called “EVOLution”. Kangdae bought as many of the albums as possible, hoping that he'll be able to get the ticket for their upcoming fan meeting. Luckily for him, he received a message noting that he is invited to the fan meeting that's gonna be held on Saturday. This makes him feel very ecstatic.

Fast forward to the fan meeting day, he arrives at the venue of the fan meeting 3 hours before the event begins. Some WAVs, which is the fandom name for tripleS, can be seen outside the venue. When he enters, more fans can be seen, waiting for the fan meeting event to start. He then goes to one of the seats that are still available before sitting on it and starts to make conversations with those who are sitting beside him.

Three hours later, the fan meeting event begins. All members in the subunit “EVOLution” walk one at a time towards the center of the stage. This causes an eruption of cheers coming from the fans. This includes Kangdae, but his eyes are only focused on the only member that gets his full attention, which is of course, Kim Yooyeon.

After some interactions and performances from the members, it is time for the fans to meet and greet with one member at a time. All of the fans, including him, start to line up before interacting with every member. As he lines up, he noticed the arrangement of the members and was shocked to see that his ultimate bias is the first one.

A few minutes later, it was his turn to interact with Yooyeon. He sits on the chair while facing her and starts greeting her. “Hi there. May I know what your name is?” She asks. “Y-Yeah, s-sure. My n-name is Do Kangdae. Nice to m-meet you.” He answers, despite the multiple stuttering as he's really nervous.

His reaction causes Yooyeon to giggle a little as she finds it cute. “I wonder… if you are this nervous because of me?” She asks him while being curious. This makes him feel a bit more embarrassed and also guilty at the same time. “S-Sorry, I didn't mean it… in a bad way. I am indeed n-nervous… because I'm facing my ultimate b-bias right now.”

The statement from him makes her gasp in amazement. “Oh really, I'm your ultimate bias? Since when?” She excitedly asks which makes him blush even more. “Erm, it was since when you're still in that show, ‘My Teenage Girl’.” He answers, which leads to her gasp yet again. She wouldn't guess that someone has been her fan from when she was in that survival show up until now. They both had a bit more conversation before he was forced to move to the next member.

After that, he goes to meet and have a conversation with the other members. This time, it went out pretty smoothly than during his conversation with Yooyeon. After he finished, he went back to his seat and waited until all the other fans had finished meeting every member. Once all fans have done the meet and greet session, the members then resumed with the performance. During the last performance, he noticed that Yooyeon gave a wink in his direction.

This causes the fans in that particular place to start to cheer loudly. However, he feels as if she is winking to one particular person, but isn't sure whether it's actually for her fanpage or him. After a couple of minutes later, it's the end of the fan meeting event. All of the members then line up into a straight line before bowing down and thanking the fans to join the event before leaving the stage, one member at a time.

This causes the fans to slowly exit the venue, which includes Kangdae. As he was about to exit the venue, he got stopped by two bodyguards that were behind the members earlier. He feels scared at that moment as he thought he did something back then. However, one of the two bodyguards says that two people want to meet him backstage. He just agrees and follows the bodyguards backstage.

As he and the bodyguards arrive backstage, he is shocked to see Yooyeon and another lady who he believes is the group's manager. Then, the manager asks the two bodyguards to let only the three of them be in the room, to which the bodyguards comply and leave the room. After that, she starts to explain what is actually happening.

“Greetings. I'm Boo Chowon, the manager for not just this subunit, but also the whole tripleS…” The manager first starts introducing herself to Kangdae, which indeed concludes his thought of her being the manager. “…I'm so sorry that I drag you here, but Yooyeon has something to talk about to you.” She continues talking before turning her attention to Yooyeon.

As he and the manager look at Yooyeon, she chuckles a little before talking. “Well, I asked Chowon unnie earlier if I can make you my own personal manager.” She says, looking at him. That statement makes him stunned, which makes her giggles even more seeing his reaction. “...but before that, I want to apologize to you first…” She continues talking, but her sudden apology makes him confused.

“You see, I once encountered your fanpage about me on Twitter. I was so amazed to see someone supporting me since that survival stage era. However, I also… accidentally saw your personal account since there's also the link for it and I accidentally clicked on it. So, I'm so sorry yet again.” She continues explaining while putting her hands close as a sign to apologize. The first thing he did after hearing her explanation was to grab her hand and push it down.

“I-It’s fine. Besides, I actually wanna put the link for my personal account on the fanpage account as I want to have more fans as my friends. I didn't expect my ultimate bias would encounter that fanpage.” He says and chuckles, which makes her sigh in relief and smiles. “So, is this why I'm being your personal manager? You're hoping to compensate for your mistake?” He then asks her.

Just before she is able to answer the question, Chowon cuts her through it. “Basically that, but also because she grows fond of you because of how strongly you've been supporting her. After seeing you just now during the fan meeting, she constantly talks about the topic of letting you be her personal manager to me.” She says, which makes Yooyeon nod before covering her face with her hands. This reaction of hers makes him chuckle a bit more.

“Well then, I accept the offer of being her personal manager. This is a once in a lifetime experience, but I promise I'll do my best to be a great manager to Yooyeon.” He says and gives a salute to the two ladies. Chowon nods while Yooyeon giggles to see that response from him. “Ok then, your job starts right now, after I leave the room right… now.” Chowon says and leaves the room after, leaving just him and Yooyeon.

“I guess we will introduce ourselves first then. I'll start. My name is Kim Yooyeon. I was born on 9th February 2001 and I live in Seoul. I studied at Ewha University, so you might know my nickname then, right?” She introduces herself and gives a wink to him at the last part. “I guess it's my turn then. My name is Do Kangdae. I was born on 8th June 2002. I was raised in Busan, but now I'm living here in Seoul. I study at Yonsei University, in a sports science program. Pleasure meeting you.” He properly introduces himself to her.

“Ah, so I'm your noona then?” She asks, to which he nods. “Did you go to the gym a lot?” She asks again and he responds back with a nod. “Ah, no wonder you have this buff physique, yet you are being shy earlier at the fanmeeting.” She says while giving a teasing smirk which makes him scratch the side of his head in embarrassment.

“Now, I guess you wanna ask me to stay at the dorm. However, I believe my place and your dorm is around the neighborhood.” He says. His statement shocks her as if he knows what she just wants to ask him. “So noona, wanna go to your dorm now?” He asks her, to which she nods. They then walk towards his car and start going towards the dorm of tripleS members.

After several minutes later, they arrive at the dorm. “Well, we're here. I'll see you tomorrow then, my new manager.” She says. “Yeah, sure. Want me to-” He replies, but stops as he feels his cheek get kissed by her before turning his head towards her in a shocked expression. This makes Yooyeon giggles and smirks. “See you, handsome.” She says again before getting out of the car and going towards the dorm building. He is only able to shake his head, feeling disbelief on the action she did earlier before starting to drive back home.

That's how Kangdae became from being just a fan to being one of the tripleS managers, but specifically, the manager of his ultimate bias. He has been doing what his job suggests, planning her schedule with the company and accompanying her in her activities. However, despite all this, it seems that she also pampers him by buying him stuff and not letting him pay for it, even if he tells her that he wants to pay for it. This also results with them being a lot intimate and secretly being a couple.

This situation also seems to be the change of the dynamics between them. One day, he jokingly said that he should call her ‘mommy’ instead of ‘noona’ due to her acting like one towards him. He thought that she would feel disgusted with it, but instead she had this wicked grin visible on her face. “Oh really? Well, I don't mind it. Besides, you sound so sexy saying that word, Kangdae.” She says and gives him a sultry wink. This change of dynamics also results with both of them able to have their own personal fun and fulfill their sexual needs.

Fast forward to today, which is October 25th, they have finished with the Australia World Tour and every member and staff have some free time to spend before going back to Korea. Kangdae has been planning to just go to the nearest bar and just have some drinks. However, as he is going to the bathroom to clean himself, his phone starts to vibrate multiple times. He then checks the phone to see several messages from Yooyeon.

[Mommy Yoo❤️]

Meet me at the hotel private pool at 8.00 p.m.

Don't be late, or mommy would punish you 😉

-

He chuckles seeing her messages, knowing that her threats were always a bluff. However, he thinks that it would be a good idea to be able to hangout with her as they both have been busy for the 3 days of the world tour. He also thinks whether he and Yooyeon would do some naughty stuff or not later on.

Later on, he arrives at the hotel’s private pool which is located quite far from the hotel rooms. He scans around the place and sees someone already in the pool. He walks closer towards the pool to see that the one asking him to come to the place has already been waiting for him at the poolside, wearing a black swim dress with white ribbon straps.

“Hey there, my beloved noona.” He says, indicating her of his arrival. This makes her tilt her head, seeing him which then she gives him a naughty grin. “You're late, baby. You make mommy wait for you for 5 minutes. You really want mommy to punish you?” She says while adding a smirk after the last sentence.

Her statement makes him chuckle a bit. “Oh please, mommy… We both know that your threats of punishing me is always a bluff. By the way, I see that you've dipped in the pool, huh?” He says and also asks as he notices the swim dress that she's wearing is already wet, to which she nods.

“Yeah, I went for a swim just now, just waiting for you to arrive.” She retorts back and gives him a playful glare which makes him chuckle even more. “Now, do you want to join mommy in the pool or not?” She asks him once again to which he nodded.

“Great then. Now take off your clothes.” She says to him before plunging herself into the pool once more. “Really mommy? Do you really want me to take off my clothes right here with you looking?” He asks, trying to argue. “As if you haven't done that in front of mommy before, baby…” She retorts his argument and gives him yet another smirk.

He sighs in defeat before starts taking off his clothes until he is left with just his swimming trunks. As she notices a slight tent forming at his swimming trunks, this makes her to smirk even more and looks intently at his crotch region. He notices where she's looking at which makes him chuckle and mumbles the word ‘naughty’. Then, he gets into the pool and joins her by hugging her close.

“It's been awhile since we get to be like this huh, mommy?” He asks which she nods as an answer. They stay in that position for another 10 minutes before he feels her grinding her crotch region with his.

“Mommy, are you horny already? I thought you wanted us to go for a swim first.” He taunts her. There's no reply from her other than soft moans coming out from her mouth for 5 minutes. After that, she tries to answer his question despite her still moaning and grinding.

“Mmmmh, I am, baby… After all, w-we haven't been with each… mmmh… other. Mommy believes t-that you also want me r-right now.” Her answer makes him chuckle and shake his head. After that, he slithers one of his hands towards under the swim dress until he feels her pussy. Once he feels her pussy, he starts to rub it which makes her moan a bit louder.

“Mmmmh, t-that’s it baby. G-Gosh, this is just only y-your fingers, what if it's your dick inside me, mmmmmh…” She exclaims. Then, she responds by moving her left hand towards the inside of his swimming trunks until she reaches his dick and grips it before slowly stroking it. This causes him to groan softly yet hoarsely right towards her ear.

As things getting heated between the two with them pleasuring each other, he couldn't wait to fuck her which makes him to stop rubbing her pussy. This makes her confused as she was actually getting close to orgasm. “W-Why did you stop? Mommy's close…” She whines.

“S-Sorry mommy, but I can't wait any longer.” He exclaims. After saying that, he yanks his swimming trunks down a little to release his hard dick, then pulls up one of her legs before pushing his dick into her pussy. This causes them to moan due to the pleasure of both sexual parts and also the pressure from the pool water.

“Oh god, mmmmh… Mommy's pussy still feels so… tight. The water also makes the feel of your pussy even better, mommy.” He says. After a few minutes later, he pulls out his dick until his tip remains before pushing it back inside which leads to him thrusting inside her pussy. However, the pressure from the pool's water makes it a bit harder for him to thrust his dick.

“Mmmmh, I've b-been craving for this, baby. Mommy has been… mmmmh… waiting to get that dick of yours. So p-please, ruin mommy's pussy.” She says to him, the pleasure feeling seeps all over her body. Suddenly, he stops thrusting which makes her puzzled yet for another time. “B-Baby, why did you stop t-thrusting? M-Mommy wants m-more.” She whines.

Her whines didn't get any reply from him, instead he lifted her up a little which made her wrap her legs around his waist. Then, he carries her towards the pool wall and pins her towards it before resumes thrusting his dick inside her pussy, but a bit more harder. This action makes her squeal loudly as she didn't expect it.

“Oh, mmmmh… My baby is such a t-tease… Mommy l-loves it though… mmmmh…” She says, followed with laces of moans. As he is still thrusting, he lifts her a little and gets his hands to untie the straps of her swim dress. Once that is done, he tugs down the swim dress to reveal her modest tits before starting to play with them.

“Mmmmh, mommy loves it when you play with my tits, baby. It makes mommy… mmmh… even more aroused.” She says gleefully. This makes him attack her tits even more, with the combination of sucking, groping, tweaking and biting while still thrusting his dick.

After 5 more minutes later, both of them are at the brink of cumming. He really wants to cum inside her as it's been their habit of finishing their sex session. However, he thinks that he should get her consent to do so which makes him do just that.

“M-Mommy, I'm c-close. Can I c-cum inside you, mmmmh?” He asks. Her reaction is to just nod aggressively before answering him. “M-Mommy is close t-too. Luckily, today is mommy's safe day, so y-you can cum i-insi- oh gosh, mmmmh!!!”

As soon hearing her answer and not letting her finish it, he unloads all of his cum deep inside her pussy which triggers her to cum as well. After he believes that he has fully unloaded his cum deep inside her, he slowly pulls out his dick as well as lifting her. This causes a little bit of their mixed cum to spill out from her pussy.

Then, they both hug each other once more for another 5 minutes to relax themselves before she suddenly hits his chest playfully. “Yah, you're such a naughty boy. You didn't notice mommy that you're about to cum.” She says which makes him chuckle. “Hehe, sorry mommy. I was so eager to hear your approval that I just cummed on the spot and forgot to tell you. Well, you did like it didn't you, mommy?” He answers back.

His answer makes her giggle and shake her head. “Yeah, I miss this feeling of you cumming inside me. Now, shall we have a swim this time?” She says to which he answers with a nod. Then, they let go of the hug before fixing their garments; or more so taking off the remaining clothes left which makes both of them skinny dipping. After that, they start to do swimming and playing in the water before leaving an hour later.

P/S: Welp, the inevitable incident has happened... Idk why, but that photo really fuels me up to make a smut for her even if I don't want to 🥲. Still, I hope you all enjoy reading it

[octoberautumnbox]

우린 길을 만들어

tripleS Kim Yooyeon, Kim Chaeyeon, Park Sohyun, Zhou Xinyu

Categories/warnings: angst, major character death yes im serious

a/n: prompt by @mintwithchoco! sorry in advance lmao oh also i love 24 so much go listen

~~~

Yooyeon‘s body makes a loud thud as she’s thrown again onto the now-brittle road, her bones steadily crumbling just like the asphalt beneath her. The air she worked so hard to gather in her chest is forced out once more as her back meets the cold, hard surface, and it takes with it a generous amount of her blood. She clutches her side—struggling to keep her lungs in her ribcage, holding the hole in the side of her stomach closed, trying in vain to stop her liver from leaking any more bile.

Lying with her temple to the floor, her eyes dart back and forth all over the scene, trying to make sense of the immediate danger she could at least keep occupied just two seconds ago. The sounds are still somewhat clear in her head past the dull ringing—her ears still work, at least—and she can still feel the heavy, rhythmic thuds through the ground coming from far away. Her nose stopped working the first time she got clocked in the head, and since then it’s all smelled like iron and gold.

Her vision blurs, darkness creeping in from the edges of her sight. The heat on her arms dissipates the fastest they've ever had, and she slowly starts to feel weightless, as if sinking into the icy depths of the ocean. Her eyelids get heavier with each labored breath she takes, and as the fuzz in front of her eyes get farther away, memories slowly replace them…

She recalls the first time she entered the big house, how it felt pulling her luggage behind her walking up the cobble path to the door and fearing what awaits on the other side. Seoyeon comes out and takes her bag—clearly younger but she felt she had an air of responsibility about her. Then came another, and another, and another still to welcome her in. It wasn’t much, but it was her new home.

She remembers the way it felt, burning for the first time. Panic flooded her nerves as her fingers gave off the beginnings of wisps of smoke, and it took Coach Jeon thirty minutes to help her realize that none of it hurt. She remembers how the petals on her guard glowed for the first time, how the steel of her new sword’s handle sapped her hands of the warmth that stuck to her like glue, and it was the moment Yooyeon had finally learned what cold felt like.

She’s brought back to when they welcomed the newest teaching aide: a shy girl from Japan this time. Director Jo realized the House was growing too quickly; three people to keep a close eye on the then-sixteen foundlings was much too much—four for the sixteen and counting would be heaps more manageable, and Sohyun and Xinyu would love the help more than Yooyeon herself.

A recent memory flashes back: Coordinator Im, younger and tinier than Yooyeon yet much wiser, had the bleakest look on her face. A search-and-rescue after Coaches Jeon, Kim, and Park went MIA in the field investigating a series of black box distress calls from a war-torn location that only seemed to pile up. Yooyeon told Seoyeon to stay behind and look after the kids, asked Jiwoo to supply the tough love Seoyeon could never muster, and Lynn to stay at the beacon on the field to make sure it stayed operational and ready for anyone to beam back anytime. It felt odd, picking who got the privilege to be deployed. She remembers Chaeyeon putting on a tough front—“Unnie, I can heal now, I can help—” despite the quiver in her lip as she showed her hands glowing pink.

Just then a shriek rips through the air from somewhere behind her: “Yooyeon, stay down! I’ll cov—AAAAAHHHHH!” The shock sharpens her eyes to near 20/20 again, only to find Sohyun clutching her skull as she crumples to the floor. The way her friend folds in half before falling face-first into the gunk and junk of the tipped trashcan ignites her second, and maybe last, wind.

“Argh, stop!” Yooyeon struggles to her feet, her left hand still holding her organs in place, as she scrambles across the floor, picking up her rapier with the last bout of determination she can afford. She locks in on the summoner in front of her, the witch’s arm raised in Sohyun’s direction as wisps of blue smoke waft from her fingertips to Sohyun’s eyes and nostrils even as the latter thrashes back and forth on the pavement and waste. A white line reveals itself, extending from the tip of Yooyeon’s sword to her opponent’s neck, and it pulls on her arm, raring to get back to clashing and relieving Sohyun of the psionic torment.

Her blade glows, first into a deep scarlet before blazing into a blinding white. Her body grows lighter and the pain subsides as she picks up speed, one steady step after the other, she feels the asphalt beneath her feet melting into tar and sticking worthlessly onto the bottoms of her shoes. Faster and faster like the beating of her heart, she breaks into a sprint, and the witch raises her staff to guard against Yooyeon’s incoming charge. It doesn’t matter—it’s just wood, and wood burns easy—as the same blue wisps of smoke surround her staff and arm, growing into a corporeal shroud of armor.

Initial contact sets off a small explosion—the summoner is pushed back, her smoke falters, and Sohyun is given a moment of reprieve. She looks back to her friend and finds two more tending to her: Chaeyeon’s mana coats her hands in a pink glow as she brings them over Sohyun’s temples, and next to her Xinyu propped up against a wall beside Sohyun loads a bolt onto Chaeyeon’s crossbow and aims long past Yooyeon’s shoulder. She notes the lack of water golems surrounding them, in their place sat puddles of Chaeyeon’s pink sludge. No more time to think, Yooyeon rushes to follow the witch through the cloud of dirt. Her rapier’s white thread directs her through the dust wisps, and it takes no time at all to find the witch recovering from the explosion.

In the nick of time Xinyu’s bolt glowing with Chaeyeon’s pink mana buries itself into the witch’s shoulder, and Yooyeon drives her blade into the other one: the solid smoke dissipates from the staff as embers lifting from Yooyeon’s guard make contact with the wood, singeing it from the inside out. More sludge materializes from Xinyu’s bolt, filling the wound with a viscous goo that overflows and starts replacing the witch’s blood.

The witch howls in pain as she collapses backward, and Yooyeon pushes with desperation to pin her opponent to the ground. The asphalt around them bubbles as Yooyeon’s blade and body take on a righteous yellow glow, and before she knows it, the summoner is sunk and buried in the tar underneath them. Steam and noxious gas rises from the bubbles, the tar ripples with each dull thud growing progressively louder, and Yooyeon tugs her blade out of the ground and backs away breathless.

Her glow dies down gradually and the pain returns. She takes measly trudges back to her friends, her side throbbing with each shock of her foot meeting the floor, and finally collapses to her knees in front of Xinyu.

“Unnie, let me see,” Chaeyeon sobs, the pink mana dripping in excess from her trembling hands. She reaches for Yooyeon’s bloody waist, but is swatted away.

Yooyeon winces and reels, “I’m fine, Chaeyeon. Sohyun got a lot of that smoke in her head—”

“Don’t fight this, Yooyeon. We don’t have time,” Xinyu commands anyway, restraining her arms despite the heat still rising off of them. It singes her palms too, and Xinyu fails to hide the pain, yet holds on anyway.

“What’s gotten into you, Xinyu?! Sohyun is—”

“Gone… Unnie, Sohyun is gone. Please,” and Chaeyeon is finally able to grab her elder’s waist. A tender warmth spreads from her fingertips throughout Yooyeon’s body as she feels her bones fusing back together and her organs righting themselves into place. The relief from the pain brings tears to her eyes, but her focus remains:

“Okay, I’m feeling better now, Chae, now do Sohyun—”

“There’s nothing left, Unnie. All her neurons are firing—no more thoughts in her head, just static. She’s gone…”

Yooyeon can’t believe her ears, her stomach turns and her heart sinks. “What…? No, Chaeyeon, you have to try!”

Xinyu strikes Yooyeon’s cheek with an open palm, “What the fuck do you think we were doing here this entire time?! Chaeyeon did everything she can and it didn’t bring her back!” Tears are streaming down Xinyu’s eyes now too, and Chaeyeon sobs quietly as she tries for Yooyeon’s legs. Relief washes over her knees, but it only stabs at her heart deeper. The flashing pain reduces to a numbing ache, and the tremors from the ground don’t seem as heavy.

“Listen, Yooyeon, we need you now more than ever, okay? Get back to the beacon and regroup with everyone.” Xinyu loads one last bolt into Chaeyeon’s crossbow. “I’m keeping this, Chae, I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?! Chaeyeon, take your crossbow back, and Xinyu, help me pick up Sohyun, the four of us can go together!”

“Unnie,” Chaeyeon chokes out, “Xinyu can’t walk.”

“W-what?”

“It’s… some sort of anesthetic,” Xinyu mutters through her scratchy throat. “Hit the base of my spine. My legs don’t work anymore, Yooyeon. I can’t walk, I can’t kick.”

Only then does it occur to Yooyeon the peculiar support Xinyu provided: where she should have rushed to Yooyeon’s side with her leg cocked and ready to unleash a roundhouse, instead she stayed sat against a wall next to their healer. She notices the socks Seoyeon gifted her are tied to her ankles instead, and her boots are nowhere to be found.

“Yeah,” Xinyu spots Yooyeon’s eyes and confesses, wiping away more tears from her own cheeks, “I got rid of them. Chae here complained I got too heavy to carry,” she admits with a dry chuckle.

The ground rumbles once more, and as it gets steadily louder they can’t ignore the consistent pattern any longer: footsteps of a march. Chaeyeon grows pale and shoots her eyes desperately to Yooyeon, “Unnie, we have to go.”

“Xinyu, weren’t you with Tone? Where is she?”

Xinyu announces with her eyes shut tight, “The anesthetic was on some sword, and that summoner should’ve gotten me while I had my back turned, but Kotone stepped in front of it.” She sobs another ugly sob before continuing, “Right through her shield and her gut, Unnie. And we were surrounded, didn’t stand a chance.”

“No… no, no, no! Where’s Dahyun?! Yubin?!”

Chaeyeon chimes in, the little strength in her voice quickly fading, “I was heading back to the beacon, Jiyeon told me to go ahead, and I found Yubin’s head… or, half of it.”

Panic rises higher in Yooyeon’s chest, “What…? W-where?”

Xinyu shrieks, “We don’t have time! Just go! Chaeyeon never should have even stopped for me!”

“No! Chaeyeon, where is everyone else?!”

“Dead, Yooyeon, all dead,” Xinyu interrupts, “just like Tone, like Yubin, like me if you stay any longer!” The march has grown inexplicably louder, any moment and the army of reinforcements would be upon them. Xinyu shoves Yooyeon away, “Just go. I can buy you five… no, ten minutes, and one less golem at least. Just… leave me the crossbow—Chae, I’m so sorry—just leave me here with Sohyun,” she casts her eyes towards Sohyun, slumping over if not for Xinyu holding her up. “Please… go.”

Yooyeon’s heart breaks, seeing her fellow seniors so broken like this. Are they really losing? Are the girls really gone?

A tug on her sleeve snaps her out of it, “Unnie, please, I’m scared. I want to go home…” Chaeyeon pleads, evidently running out of tears and mana as well. It’s a wake up call—up until the last moment, Xinyu puts the girls first, even at the cost of herself. Sohyun was the same, always thinking she was the weakest, revealing her position to the enemy to give Yooyeon the best chance of surviving. Mayu, however she might be, must be keeping Lynn safe as they work the beacon even though they, she, could just go home herself.

Yooyeon's aching heart sways with Chaeyeon's words, and she attempts to rise. Her knees wobble underneath her, but Chaeyeon catches her and swings her arm over her shoulders. She steadies herself, mindful to cool down and make it easier for Chaeyeon to hold her, and they begin to trudge away.

Yooyeon takes one last look back towards her fellow aides as Chaeyeon drags her off—she finds Xinyu sobbing, cuddled up to Sohyun, her face buried in her neck as Sohyun’s eyes remain open but empty.

~~~

[bambiel]

͏ ͏

⠀ ⠀˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳. WaterLoo .˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.

[waldfgrl]

[kilmeslow]

⠀ֵ⠀ׂ⠀⠀̻⍺்݀֔⠀ֵ⠀𝗍⍺ְ݀⠀יִ⠀໋̻⠀  ׅ⠀𖧋⃘⠀ׂ⠀ֵฯꪱ⠀ׂ⠀⃘̻🐒ׂ⠀ֵ⠀

⠀ֵ⠀ׂ꒰⠀ׅ⠀⚾ᷧ ᷧ יִ⠀ׂ ⠀᩿⠀𝗍ꭐꪱ⠀ׅ ◌⠀ׂ𝗅ꪱ𝗀𝗁𝗍ֵ ⠀꒱⠀ׂ⠀࿔⠀

[wiinternightt]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀ֵ⠀☆͜⠀ׄ⠀ᦸֵ𝗍ᦸɾׄ𝗇ִ⍺݀𝗅⠀ִ⠀ಿ⠀ׄ⠀ꨳִ𝗎𝗇ׄ݀ꨣ𝗁꩝꯭ׄ𝗇꯭ᦸ꯭ׄ⠀⠀ֵ♡ׄ⠀ִ⠀

[elryuse]

It Should Be Me

Yandere Yooyeon Triples X Male Reader

Requested by my dear friend on discord. Hope you like it bruh.

I can't remember a time when Yooyeon wasn't there. We were practically attached at the hip from preschool. She was always the older, wiser one, even if by a year. I remember her pulling me away from a particularly nasty sandbox fight, her small hand gripping mine with surprising strength.

"Don't fight, Y/n," she'd said, her voice firm for someone so young. "It's not nice."

I pouted, but I listened. There was something about the way she looked at me, with that intense focus, that made me feel safe.

As we grew older, our bond deepened. We'd spend hours lost in our own world, building forts in the woods behind my house, sharing secrets, and dreaming about the future. Yooyeon was my confidante, my protector, and my best friend.

Then Nakyoung came along. She was a whirlwind, a burst of sunshine that lit up every room. I was drawn to her energy, her laughter. It was like she brought color into my world. I remember the day she confessed her feelings for me, under the old oak tree in the park. My heart pounded in my chest as she poured her heart out. It was overwhelming, but there was something about her sincerity that made me realize I felt the same way.

We started dating, and it was like a dream. Nakyoung was everything I could have asked for in a girlfriend. She was smart, funny, and incredibly supportive. We spent countless hours together, holding hands, sharing secrets, and making plans for the future.

But somewhere in the back of my mind, there was always Yooyeon. She'd been there for me through everything, and I cared about her deeply. But our relationship had changed. The closeness we once shared had drifted apart. She seemed quieter, more withdrawn.

Now in high school, with Nakyoung by my side, I tried to ignore the growing distance between Yooyeon and me. It was like she was watching from the sidelines, a silent observer of our happiness. Sometimes, I'd catch her looking at me with a longing that made me uncomfortable.

I pushed those feelings aside. After all, Yooyeon was my best friend, and I trusted her completely. But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Yooyeon was changing, and I didn't know how to help her.

Little did I know, the darkness that was creeping into Yooyeon's heart would soon consume her, and our lives would be irrevocably changed.

The cafeteria was a cacophony of noise, a sea of students jostling for space and food. Nakyoung was perched on my lap, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck as she giggled into my ear. Her laughter was like a warm sunbeam, chasing away the shadows of my worries.

"You're such a dork, Y/n," she teased, her breath tickling my skin. I grinned, squeezing her a little tighter.

"Only for you, princess," I replied, my voice muffled by her hair.

Just as I was about to steal a kiss, a crash echoed through the cafeteria. My heart skipped a beat as I turned to see Yooyeon standing there, her face flushed with embarrassment. A tray of food lay shattered on the floor, the remnants of Nakyoung's lunch scattered everywhere.

Nakyoung's smile vanished, replaced by a scowl. "WTF!!! Watch where you're going, idiot!" she snapped, her voice sharp.

Yooyeon's eyes widened in shock. "I-I'm so sorry," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.

A wave of anger washed over me. It wasn't Yooyeon's fault. Accidents happen. I reached out to take Nakyoung's hand, trying to calm her down. "It's okay, Nakyoung," I said softly. "It was an accident."

But she was beyond reason. Her anger was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. "Don't defend her," she hissed, her eyes flashing with fury. "She's always been clumsy."

My blood ran cold. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Yooyeon was my friend, and Nakyoung was being incredibly unfair. A surge of protectiveness for Yooyeon ignited within me.

"That's enough, Nakyoung," I said firmly, my voice low and dangerous. Her eyes widened in surprise. I'd never spoken to her like that before.

Without another word, I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the cafeteria. We stormed out into the hallway, ignoring the stunned stares of the students.

I dragged her into a small café on the corner, the bell above the door jingling softly. We sat down at a quiet corner table, the soft jazz music providing a much-needed respite from the chaos of the cafeteria.

I ordered two dalgona coffees and a small plate of brownies, trying to calm my racing heart. Nakyoung sat across from me, her arms crossed, her face still flushed with anger.

"I can't believe you defended her," she said finally, her voice laced with venom.

"Yooyeon is my friend, Nakyoung," I said calmly. "She didn't mean to spill your food."

"She's clumsy," she retorted.

I sighed. "Accidents happen, Nakyoung. We all make mistakes."

She glared at me, but I could see the anger slowly fading from her eyes. I took a sip of my coffee, the sweet and bitter taste a comforting contrast to the turmoil inside me.

*sighs* "I-i'm sorry for overreacting," she said finally, her voice softer.

I smiled. "It's okay. But please, try to be a little kinder to Yooyeon. She's been there for me since we were kids."

She nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I know. She's your noona, right?"

I chuckled. "Yeah, she's my noona. Even though we've grown apart a bit since high school, she's still my senior. I look up to her."

Nakyoung smiled, and for the first time since the incident, her eyes held a genuine warmth. "I'll apologize to her tomorrow," she promised.

Relief washed over me. I reached across the table and ruffled her hair. "Good girl," I said, grinning.

As we left the café, hand-in-hand, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. The tension between Nakyoung and Yooyeon had been a constant source of stress, but for now at least, it seemed to have eased.

Meanwhile, In Yooyeon's POV

My heart pounded in my chest like a trapped bird. The sting of Nakyoung's words was a physical pain, a sharp knife twisting in my gut. To be dismissed so casually, to be seen as nothing more than a clumsy idiot, it was almost too much to bear.

I watched as Y/n and Nakyoung walked away, their hands intertwined, their laughter like a mocking melody in my ears. They were a perfect match, a fairytale couple, and I was the unwanted extra in their story.

A wave of despair washed over me. I'd loved Y/n for as long as I could remember. I'd watched him grow from a shy little boy into the handsome young man he was now. And yet, I'd never had the courage to tell him how I felt.

I pulled out my phone and found a picture of Y/n from our high school yearbook. His smile was as bright as the sun, and my heart ached with longing. I traced his features with my finger, tears blurring my vision.

"Why didn't I tell him?" I whispered to myself, my voice trembling. "Why didn't I have the courage?"

The answer was a bitter taste in my mouth. Fear. Fear of rejection, fear of losing his friendship. I'd let my fear dictate my life, and now I was paying the price.

But as the tears continued to flow, something else began to stir within me. A dark, twisted feeling that was both terrifying and exhilarating. A part of me wanted to lash out, to hurt Nakyoung for what she'd said. To make her pay for stealing Y/n's heart.

And another part of me wanted to possess Y/n completely, to be the only one who saw him, touched him, loved him. I wanted to be the center of his world, the only person who mattered.

A dangerous smile crept across my face as I stared at the picture of Y/n. This wasn't the Yooyeon I knew, the shy, quiet girl who was always in the background. This was someone new, someone dark and twisted.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. I knew what I had to do. I had to get Y/n back, no matter the cost.

And as I looked into Y/n's smiling face, I made a promise to myself. I would have him, even if it meant destroying everything in my way.

The cafeteria was buzzing with activity, a sea of students chattering and laughing. I took a deep breath and walked in, bracing myself for whatever Nakyoung had planned.

To my surprise, she approached me with a look of genuine remorse. "Yooyeon Unnie, I'm so sorry about yesterday," she said, her voice sincere. "I was out of line."

I was caught off guard. I hadn't expected an apology, certainly not such a heartfelt one. I forced a smile. "It's no problem, Nakyoung. It was my fault for being so clumsy."

We stood there for a moment, an awkward silence hanging between us. Then, she nodded and walked away, joining her friends.

As the day wore on, I tried to focus on my classes, but my mind was racing. Nakyoung's apology had thrown me off balance. Part of me wanted to believe that she was sincere, but the other part was wary.

During my last class, I caught a glimpse of Nakyoung and her friends huddled together, their voices filled with laughter. I couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"And guess what?" I heard Nakyoung say, her voice excited. "I'm going to steal Y/n's first kiss!"

The room seemed to tilt on its axis. My heart pounded in my ears as I processed her words. She was going to take Y/n's first kiss? How could she be so heartless?

My vision blurred as anger and jealousy consumed me. I couldn't breathe. I had to get out of there.

I stood up abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor. My classmates stared at me in confusion, but I didn't care. I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the classroom, ignoring the teacher's calls for me to stay.

I ran out of the school and into the fresh air, the cold wind doing little to cool the fire burning inside me. I stumbled upon a park bench and collapsed, my body trembling.

How could I have been so stupid? I'd let Y/n slip through my fingers, and now he was about to be taken by someone else. I was a failure as a friend, as a woman.

Desperation and hatred warred within me. I had to do something, but I didn't know what. All I knew was that I couldn't let this happen.

Nakyoung was going to pay for what she was planning to do.

Back To Y/n's POV

I was buried in textbooks, trying to absorb the dense material for the upcoming exam. A sharp rap on the door startled me. Assuming it was Nakyoung, I quickly got up to open it. To my surprise, it was Yooyeon, standing there with a hesitant smile, holding a bag and a glass of soju.

"Yooyeon Noona? What are you doing here?" I asked, confusion evident in my voice.

She chuckled nervously. "I brought you dinner. And... well, I thought we could use a drink."

I stepped aside, inviting her in. The sight of her, standing in my small apartment, felt oddly intimate. We settled on the couch, the bag of food between us. The apartment was filled with an awkward silence, a stark contrast to the usual noise of our high school lives.

"So, how have you been?" I asked, trying to break the ice.

Yooyeon's smile faltered slightly. "I've been... okay, I guess. Just dealing with the usual final term stress."

We talked for a while, about school, friends, and the future. It felt like we were reconnecting, like we were back in those carefree days of childhood. As the soju warmed my insides, the conversation turned more serious.

"Y/n," Yooyeon began, her voice trembling slightly, "I need to tell you something."

I nodded, my heart pounding. "What is it Noona?"

She took a deep breath. "I saw Nakyoung with another guy today. They were... pretty intimate."

My world seemed to stop. Nakyoung? Cheating? It couldn't be true. I knew her, I trusted her.

"Y-you're lying," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Yooyeon's eyes filled with tears. "I wish I was. But I saw it with my own eyes."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I felt betrayed, deceived.

"N-no," I whispered again, shaking my head. "It's not true."

Yooyeon reached out and took my hand. "I know it's hard to believe, but it's true. She's been cheating on you."

Tears streamed down my face. I couldn't stop them. I felt like a fool, a complete idiot for trusting her.

Yooyeon pulled me into a tight embrace, her body trembling against mine. "I'm so sorry, Y/n," she whispered. "I know this must hurt you"

I clung to her, finding solace in her warmth. In that moment, she was the only person in the world who understood my pain.

"You're the only one who's ever really cared about me," she said, her voice muffled by my hair.

I looked up at her, my vision blurred with tears. She leaned in closer, her eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and desire. And then, she kissed me.

It was a gentle kiss, filled with a tenderness that surprised me. In that moment, the world disappeared, leaving only us. It was my first kiss, and it was perfect, or so it seemed.

But as our lips parted, a cold dread washed over me. I had been betrayed, not just by Nakyoung, but by my own heart.

I was lost, adrift in a sea of confusion and pain.

Nakyoung's POV

My heart pounded in my chest like a frantic drumbeat. It was almost midnight, and Y/n hadn't answered any of my calls or texts. A wave of panic washed over me. Something was wrong.

I raced to his apartment, my mind a whirlwind of worst-case scenarios. I pounded on the door, my knuckles aching. "Y/n! Open up!" I shouted, my voice trembling.

The door creaked open, revealing Yooyeon standing in the doorway. She was wearing a little piece of clothing, Her hair was disheveled, her eyes filled with a strange intensity. My heart skipped a beat. What was going on?

"Yooyeon Unnie? " I stammered, my voice barely a whisper.

She stepped aside, revealing Y/n sitting on the couch, looking pale and drawn. My relief turned to horror as I took in the scene. Yooyeon was wearing Y/n's shirt, and there was an undeniable intimacy between them that made my blood run cold.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded, my voice rising.

Yooyeon's lips curled into a sinister smile. "It's simple, Nakyoung. Y/n is mine now."

I felt a surge of anger. "You're crazy! He loves me!"

Yooyeon laughed, a cold, hollow sound. "Love? That's a childish notion. Possession is power, and he belongs to me now."

I lunged forward, ready to confront her, but she held up a hand to stop me. "Don't even bother," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "It's too late for you."

She turned to Y/n, her eyes softening. "Darling, why don't you show her how happy you are?"

Y/n looked at me with a vacant expression, as if he were a sleepwalker. He stood up and walked towards me, his movements slow and deliberate.

Terror gripped me as he approached. I backed away, but there was nowhere to go. I was trapped.

Yooyeon stepped in front of me, her arm around Y/n's waist. "He's mine now, Nakyoung," she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. "So go home. This is our life now."

I tried to fight, to break free, but it was useless. Yooyeon was stronger than I thought, and Y/n was like a zombie, following her every command.

As I was dragged out of the apartment, I looked back at Y/n one last time. The man I loved was gone, replaced by a hollow shell controlled by a deranged woman.

A cold despair settled over me. I had lost everything.

The world seemed to darken as the door closed behind me, leaving me alone in the cold, unforgiving night.

The End

[slowlydifferentbluebird]

Timing

Hello there, people. This fic is a gift for my on of my besties, who really needed some TripleS fics to read and as a fellow stan, I agree. This is my first attempt writing about them on this blog, if I'm not wrong, so why don't start with a good dose of angst? Let me know if if you liked it and if you would like to see more of them 💙

Knock knock. "Manager, can I come in?", Yooyeon knew it was your rest day and that you deserved to have a good rest after all the hard work you have done for her and the other 23 members, and yet she still wanted to be the one to wake you up in the morning. Maybe you two could have been outside for breakfast and then have a nice walk in that park you always talk about. Not receiving any answer, she decided to get in; the light was dim, just few sun rays were able to penetrate through the curtains of your window. "Sorry to come in...", she said in a light tone, before noticing you were still deeply sleeping in your bed. She smiled sweetly at your calm face, laying on the white pillow. Another couple of steps and then...the disappointment. Hidden by blankets, Yubin was also sleeping between your arms, the happiest expression showing on her face. She had to suppress the loudest sigh to not wake up the both of you. She went back on her steps, biting her bottom lip and doing her best to hold her tears. "Mhh...did your hear anything, Yubin?", you asked, looking around confused; you were sure that you heard the door being opened and closed again few moments ago. "I'm sure the members were just playing and being loud as usual...go back to sleep", Yubin answered lazily, before nuzzling against your chest and pulling you even closer in her embrace. Yeah, she was probably right, it was nothing to worry about for sure.

Few hours later, around the middle of the morning, you decided to wake up, when Chaeyeon almost kicked down the door to kidnap Yubin and bring her to the living room to replicate who knows which TikTok trend. You groaned, bothered by the interruption of your peace, before strenching your body; it was too bad but it was worth to start your day at that point. You came out of your bedroom just to receive the greetings and hugs of all members as every morning: Nien, Kotone, Kaede, Lynn, Yeonji...as you went around the three dormitories you met all the girls...well, except one. "Seoyeon, do you know where Yooyeon is? I have still not seen her this morning", you asked to S1, that usually was the quickest way to know about everyone whereabouts. "I'm pretty sure I heard her going out few hours ago, but she didn't tell me where was directed too. Maybe she went to study for her exams", she explained, shrugging with nonchalance before returning to her Mario Kart challenge with Mayu. You nodded, convinced, it sounded plausible in your head, after all it was not the first time the oldest girl of the group disappeared to go to the library, furthermore it was not a secret that she was a lover of her privacy. You still decided to try to call her but it was all useless. You pouted sadly, you would have liked to bring her out this morning, doing breakfast together and maybe having a walk in the park you always tell her about. "Anyone down to go out for me?", you proposed in the living room where the majority of girls were, still intentioned to have a great rest day. An hand was lifted faster than all the others...

Yooyeon opened her eyes, meeting the blue sky and the bright sun, and then she removed the earbuds, stopping the music going on. Her healing time helped her to calm her down. She checked her phone and she was surprised to discover a couple of missed calls from you. She felt so stupid, she was there acting all edgy and sad on a random bench when you were looking for her. She dialed your number, she took a deep breath...and then she saw you: you and Yubin were walking laughing and teasing each other, your arms linked and two big smiles on yours faces. Once again the girl had to try her best to not launch her phone away or walking towards you and cursing, but in the end she just stayed still, looking at her manager and friend disappear in the crowd. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, why am I so stupid?", Yooyeon scolded herself, running back to the dorm, this time failing to hold her tears, the images of you and Yubin on your happy date hurting her heart and mind.

When you went back to the dorm, you were so exhusted. Yubin made you walk around all day, going in and out at every shop she was interested in. Also, you really appreciate her company, but she seemed to be in a very good reasons that day so she was very hyper. Also, Yubin was known for being a bit of a tease, but she never stopped to flirt until you got home. And talking about home...the atmosphere was completely different since when you went out. All the girls were gloomy and their eyes had a worried look. "Dahyun, what happened?", you asked, almost whispering. "I'm not sure...during lunch Yooyeon unnie came back crying. She ran in her room and closed herself inside, not letting anyone go inside", she explained, making your heart sink for some reasons. What did happen to her? Yooyeon was a smart and strong girl, it was so rare to see her crying, and you are pretty sure no one has ever seen her breaking down...well, until today at least.

You walked till her room, you could already hear her faint sobbing from outside the room. You wondered for a couple of minutes about what to do in this situation and eventually you gathered the courage to knock on the door and go in. "Hey Yoo, are you alrig-", your question was immediately interrupted when the girl realized you were the one talking to her. "GO OUT! NOW!", she shouted at you, almost scaring you: you have never seen her so angry nor her voice so loud. "Yoo, calm down. Why don't we try to talk so you can explain to me what's wrong?", you proposed, but that only made things worse. "Are you kidding me? Are you a fool or what? This is all your fault", she said, getting up and hitting your chest with her index finger. "Me?", you questioned in a whisper, totally lost after her accusation. "Yes, you! You are nothing more than a player and a liar", at every words her fingers kept hitting you, but actually you were more hurt by the names she was calling you. "What? How come? What have I done to deserve this treatment?", you asked, your expression a mixture of shock and offense. "Go ask that to Yubin", she answered harsly, almost spitting out her words. That sentence alone was enough to make your eyes roll back in annoyance. "Oh my God, don't tell me you are making such a mess just because I had a friendly date with Yubin", you groaned, facepalming now that the whole situation was becoming more clear. "Friendly my ass! You don't sleep with your friends", she burst out, throwing her pillow at you. Luckily you were fast in catching it. "She came in my room in the middle of the night, totally scared because of a nightmare, what was I supposed to do? Send her back?", you scoffed at her accusal, now she was being irrational. On the other hand your explanation made sense to the oldest girl, but still it didn't sit right with her. "Sure, like if she has not roommates to go for these cases. And she's not already 19 or something? What are you? Her babysitter?", she attacked once more, her most immature side slowly crawling out. "Don't talk like that about Yubin, you are leader, you should protect her, not mock her. Furthermore everyone has its own shits to deal with, so stop judging", you were quick to block her tantrum, scolding her as rarely you did in your time as her manager. "You're right, it's not her fault, it's yours: after all why don't invite her to a romantic date after sleeping together?", her tone full of sarcasm was really hitting your nerves at that point. "Oh, you're being ridiculous right now. I went out with her just because you were not home", you gritted her teeth, once more having to explain obvious stuff to her. "What...no, you're lying...", she puts her hands together, conflicted about believing you or not. "I'm not! Otherwise why would I have called you three times this morning?", you gave her the final proof of your innocence, making all the wrong thoughts about you crumble at once. There was nothing more to add, only silence remained in the room.

You skipped dinner, you were no hungry at all after that absurd fight. You were on your bed, brooding about if you had done the right thing. Were you too tough? Maybe you could have handled the situation in a different way or time. But no, you had to sort it out quickly, the following day the girls would have had a schedule, there was no time for any problem. You surely didn't expect the deal to be you interacting with a member. Sure, it could have been misunderstandable, but Yooyeon had disproportionate reaction. Like, you didn't want to deny the reality: you and Yoo had something going on. The problem is that you didn't know what that something was. It was this weird dynamic of slow-burning attentions and small gestures that didn't lead to absolute nothing in the past months...and yet, both of you felt attached to each other, at this point for Yoo maybe it was something more. But even if you really made a move with Yubin, could the other girl blame you? There was nothing concrete: not a kiss, not an affectionate moment, not even a date. What was she mad about? Sure, after Yooyeon made you notice, also Yubin bevahior was weird lately...

Knock knock. "Manager, can I come in?", speaking of the devil... Different person, different time, same words: the fate is such a fascinating thing, but you couldn't know that. "No, I prefer to stay alone at the moment", you replied, but your words were ignored. Despite those, Yubin came through anyway; she was wearing her night clothes and had a sleepy look on her face. "I know this is a wrong moment, but can I sleep here again?", she asked with nonchalance, sitting really close to you on the bed. "I don't think it's appropriate, Yubin", you tried to act professional in front of her but the girl could easily read your feelings. "Is this because of what Yooyeon unnie said about me?", she blurted out, now she was more awake than ever. "Did you hear us?", you sighed, scratching your neck embarassed. "Yes, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, but honestly almost any member could hear you two because of how loud you were being", she confessed, shrugging that weight from her shoulder. Shit, another problem to solve the following day, but in that moment you had other to think about. "Don't be angry to your unnie, I'm sure she didn't mean to be rude or anything, she was just mad...", you tried to reassure her, but actually there was no need of that. "Oh, I'm not angry at all. Honestly if I was here, I would also be mad at me", she said that with such a calm that you couldn't help to be puzzled. "W-what...what do you mean by that?", your eyebrows furrowed and you start to sweat, already knowing what she had in her mind. "Did you notice any changement in me lately? Did you not realize I'm being more...affectionate lately?", she tilted her head, her body moving closer to yours. "I mean...y-yeah, I've noticed that, of course, it was hard to not get that...but I thought it was we were becoming friends?", you proposed this explanation, but even you were not believing to this version, your nervous stuttering the proof of that. "Friends? I'm not interested in that shit", she scoffed, before moving to sit in your lap, her arms around your neck. "Yubin, I don't think this is approp-", you tried to stop her in extremis, a last chance to not mess up everything; however your attempt was easily canceled by the girls lips, meeting yours in a stolen kiss, that gave butterflies in each other stomach. For the first time that day, everything, any problem, any troble, any doubt just vanished: it was just you, Yubin, her soft lips and her arms pulling you closer.

Once someone really wise said that life is all about timing. Nothing more true. Yubin was faster to show her interest, to confess her feelins, to make you hers. Sadly it was not the case of Yooyeon, that was slow, too slow in every field, too scared of her own feeling to act up. And even after your fight, a sort of final warning, she was still late. Few minutes made the difference between being the one claiming you and the reality: standing behind your door, an hand silencing her disperate sobs, regretting any chance she wasted as a fool.

[tokkiens]

✿ㅤkotone ﹙triples﹚ㅤlockscreen

[yerimbrit]

[flufftober day 27, wc: 654] - escape room : k. yooyeon

ESCAPE ROOMS are not your forte. luckily for you, your girlfriend is very much talented at solving them. sure, yooyeon sucks at games, and she could be a little bit eccentric at times (though not as much as some of your other friends), but she loves puzzles. 

you once got her a sudoku workbook as a joke because she mentioned it in passing, but she came back to you with it completely filled out within a week. jeez, you know that she’s a nerd, but that was something else. even now, as you stand clueless while yooyeon decodes some hidden message in the room, do you see that she’s a, “nerd.”

“what?” yooyeon looks up from the paper, laughing. 

whoops. “i didn’t mean to say that out loud. it’s still true though, look at you helping us escape the room!”

expecting her to give you a blank stare, you shift awkwardly in your position, until she pulls you by the hand to where she is. “this symbol means ‘1’,” she points to a curved icon, “and this one is ‘a’. here’s the decoder.”

yooyeon gives you a piece of crumpled paper with letters and numbers matching symbols, which you take. “can you decode this message while i try to find the safe again?”

you salute, and she smiles at your gesture before squeezing your hand, moving to another side of the room. ‘let’s see… this means C… O… oh, code. hey, this is pretty fun when i actually know what i’m doing.’ 

there’s some shuffling around on the other side, but you’re too invested in translating the message to turn around and look. ‘1-3-2.’

“yooyeon,” you grin, whipping around to see, wow, she’s really close. “uh, what happened?”

your girlfriend steps back with a sheepish smile, holding up a paper to your face. you squint to see what it says. “decoder is fake. password is 005—oh, what the hell!?”

“sorry about all the hard work,” she sighs, “i found the safe, though. can you put it in? i’ve always hated master locks.”

you pout, but follow her to the safe she found. thankfully, you’ve had your fair share of master locks (aka eighth grade gym class, where you opened everyone’s locks because they couldn’t figure it out), so you put the password in very quickly. yooyeon stares at you in wonder, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve earned some dignity back by impressing your lover. the safe opens, and there’s a key inside which unlocks the main escape-room door. parallel to the door are all the other rooms that you and (mostly) yooyeon solved, and above the door frame is a timer which stops at five minutes once you open the door.

“i think i want to go take a nap,” you mutter, your hand naturally finding yooyeon’s. 

she shakes her head, smiling. “i did most of the work, though.”

the strap of your bag slightly slips off of your shoulder, and you bring it up closer to your neck. it’s a long way’s walk to jiyeon’s car which you borrowed for the date, and your feet are kind of killing you with how long you stood and watched your genius of a lover solve the escape rooms, but whatever. you can at least say that you did something, not including driving here, because yooyeon can’t drive.

“true, but watching you work made me tired. i’m gonna fall asleep and crash jiyeon’s car.”

yooyeon looks at you incredulously. “you’re gonna kill both of us off? and pass the debt on to our pet rock?”

“no,” you giggle, “i’m gonna pass it to xinyu, she’s rich as hell.”

as the girl buckles her seatbelt when you finally reach the car, she looks you dead in the eye when you turn the ignition on. “do not fall asleep.”

ooh, intimidating. “yes, my dear girlfriend kim yooyeon,” you salute again.

“what are you even saying?”

flufftober masterlist!

[kwilquib]

Tags:

Falling for You, Again - Romance, fluff, arrange marriage

I Want To... - Romance, drama, friends to lovers, tragedy

We can't be Friends Anymore - Romcom, fluff, cohabitation, friends to lovers

[sseulr1n]

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@yeonzzen

[katacoto-web]

Oioi diva! Você pode fazer um mood da nakyoung (triples) por favor? Amo seus moods!

Oioiii diva ², você sabe que sim! Eu fiz desse jeito ó, espero que você goste nesse estilo mais dark emo rsrs

[triplessscosmos]

𓆩♡𓆪  tripleS “girls never die” mv icons

like or reblog if you use/save

[waldfgrl]