#yunjin

[jupiterpilgrim]

A+ Affair

Yunjin x Male Reader

word count: 11K

[commissioned fic]

The clock on your phone reads five minutes past the hour, and you’re already muttering under your breath as you jog down the hallway, adjusting your messenger bag over one shoulder. Of course, the one time you get assigned a one-on-one consultancy, you’re late. It’s not even your fault—you’d spent the last hour drowning in administrative work, filing reports no one was likely to read, all while wondering why someone thought a graduate student with no actual teaching experience would be the perfect fit to guide an undergrad. But here you are, running behind and feeling grossly underprepared.

When you finally reach the office, your hand hovers over the door handle as you suck in a breath, trying to pull yourself together. You’re supposed to look like you know what you’re doing. Confidence, right? Even if your experience as a teaching assistant has mostly involved stapling worksheets and running occasional errands. This is different—real academic guidance. A chance to prove yourself.

You push open the door, already apologizing before you’ve even looked up.

“Sorry, sorry, I lost track of time—oh.”

Your words catch, and you blink once, twice, to make sure your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you.

She’s sitting sideways in the chair, one leg crossed over the other, her fingers lazily scrolling through her phone like she doesn’t have a care in the world. Her hair gleams under the fluorescent lighting, every strand impossibly perfect, cascading over her shoulders. She’s wearing a bright, skintight top that clings to her frame, paired with a skirt so short you almost feel scandalized just looking at it. Her legs are bare, crossed just enough to hide anything too revealing, but her thighs look smooth and soft, the kind of thighs that command attention. Her lips—God, her lips are plump, painted in a glossy pink that makes them impossible to ignore.

She doesn’t even notice you’re there.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to proceed. The room feels smaller somehow, warmer, even though she hasn’t looked up from her phone. You straighten your back, pull your bag strap tighter over your shoulder, and clear your throat.

“Uh, hi. I’m, uh—��� You stop, mentally berating yourself for sounding like a nervous freshman on their first day. You start again, your voice steadier. “Hi. I’m your teaching assistant, and I’ll be helping you with your exam prep.”

That gets her attention. She looks up, her lips curving into a slow smile as she sets her phone on the desk.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t see you come in.” Her voice is casual, breezy, like she’s greeting an old friend instead of her academic consultant.

“Right. Uh, sorry about being late. That’s on me.” You glance at the desk, trying to focus on the papers and not the way her eyes seem to linger on you for just a moment too long. “Let’s get started.”

“No worries.” She leans back in her chair, her posture relaxed, one leg bouncing slightly as if the whole situation is no big deal to her. “I’m Yunjin, by the way. But I guess you already knew that.”

You nod, forcing yourself to keep your tone professional. “Yeah, I reviewed your file. I'm here to help you prepare for the upcoming exam.”

“Sure, sure. Honestly, I’m just here ‘cause they said I had to be. You know how it is.”

Your brow furrows slightly. “Your grades suggest you might need more than just attendance to pass this exam. I was involved in developing the questions and the material isn’t exactly light.”

Her smile doesn’t falter, but there’s a glint of something playful in her eyes now, like she’s toying with you. “You don’t have to give me the hard sell, professor.” She says it with a teasing lilt, like she knows exactly how much the title doesn’t fit you. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

You stiffen slightly, trying not to let her casual attitude get under your skin. “I’m not a professor, but I take this seriously, and you should too. Business isn’t a subject you can bluff your way through.”

“Mm, I don’t know about that,” she murmurs, tilting her head as she watches you. Her gaze is uncomfortably direct, like she’s sizing you up. “A lot of it’s just networking, right? Who you know, how you present yourself. Pretty sure I’ve got that part down.”

You don’t respond immediately, your focus shifting to the materials in your bag. Her attitude is frustrating, but you remind yourself this is your job—to help, even if the student in question doesn’t seem particularly interested in being helped. You pull out a stack of notes and a syllabus, spreading them on the desk between you.

“All right,” you say, adopting a firmer tone. “This is the outline of what we’ll be covering. We’ll start with foundational concepts—market analysis, competitive strategy—and work our way up to application-based scenarios.”

She picks up one of the papers, glancing at it briefly before setting it back down. “Sounds… riveting,” she says dryly, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “You really love this stuff, huh?”

“It’s important,” you reply, keeping your tone neutral. “And it’ll be on the exam, so—”

“Relax,” she interrupts, leaning forward slightly. Her top shifts just enough to reveal a hint of lace beneath, a flash of black that’s gone as quickly as it appeared. “I’ll pass. I always do.”

You don’t let your gaze linger, but your pulse quickens despite yourself. You force yourself to look at her face, to keep your tone professional. “I'm not here to magically make you pass. The goal is understanding the material. Mastering it.”

“Right,” she says, drawing out the word like she’s indulging you. She rests her chin on her hand, her gaze never leaving yours. “So, how old are you anyway? You don’t look much older than me.”

The question catches you off guard, you hesitate, but tell her your age.

“See?” She grins, leaning back again. “We’re practically the same age. Makes it easier to talk, don’t you think?”

You clear your throat, glancing at the clock. “We should get started. The sooner we dive into the material, the more ground we can cover.”

She shrugs, her smile never fading. “Whatever you say, prof. Lead the way.”

You try to ignore the way she’s looking at you, the playful edge in her tone.

The first ten minutes of the session feel like pulling teeth. You dive into market segmentation with the kind of energy you hope comes off as confident and not desperate. But Yunjin doesn’t seem remotely interested. She’s sprawled out in her chair, phone in hand, her fingers flying across the screen as if this is just a brief interlude in her far more important day.

“So, breaking down a market into segments allows businesses to—”

“Hold up,” she interrupts, barely looking up. “I just need to reply to this real quick.”

Your jaw tightens, but you take a breath, forcing patience. “Yunjin, we only have an hour. The more you focus, the more we can cover.”

“This is focusing,” she says, glancing up with a grin that’s as unapologetic as it is infuriating. “Social media is huge for business. You know that, right? I’ve got to stay active. Engagement is everything.”

You fold your arms, trying to keep your expression neutral. “I don’t think Instagram is going to help you pass your exam.”

“Not Instagram,” she says, her tone lightly mocking. “TikTok. Way bigger reach. I have, like, a hundred thousand followers, by the way. Do you follow me?”

“I don’t have TikTok,” you reply, too quickly.

She raises an eyebrow, like she doesn’t quite believe you. “Seriously? You’re missing out. I bet you’d love my stuff.” She leans forward, flipping her phone around to show you her profile. The screen lights up with videos of her dancing, lip-syncing, or simply posing in various trendy outfits. Her most recent one is captioned ‘CEO vibes only 💼✨’, and she’s twirling in what you think is supposed to be business attire, though it’s as tight and revealing as the clothes she is wearing now.

“That’s… impressive,” you say cautiously, unsure what else to offer.

“Right?” She beams, clearly pleased with herself. “This kind of thing is my future. Marketing, personal branding, the whole package.”

“That’s great, but right now, we’re focusing on your coursework. Market segmentation—”

“Oh, my God, you sound like a textbook,” she says with a laugh, leaning back again. Her skirt rides up just a little higher, and you force yourself to look at your notes instead. “Loosen up, professor. Ever heard of a work-life balance?”

“I’m not a professor,” you mutter under your breath, flipping through the syllabus for the next point.

She doesn’t hear you—or pretends not to. Instead, she picks up her phone again, her attention already elsewhere. You press your lips into a thin line, determined to steer the session back on track.

“All right,” you say, keeping your voice firm. “Let’s try a practical example. Imagine you’re launching a new product. How would you identify your target market?”

She hums thoughtfully, but her focus stays on her phone. “Depends. Am I selling something cute? Sexy? Or, like, functional?”

“Something practical,” you say, trying to engage her. “Let’s say a new line of eco-friendly water bottles.”

She finally looks up, her brow furrowing slightly. “Boring. Can’t we do, like, makeup or clothes or something?”

“Fine,” you relent. “A new line of cosmetics.”

“Now we’re talking.” She sits up straighter, crossing her legs. The movement draws your attention for half a second too long, your eyes flickering to her thighs before you realize what you’re doing. You snap your gaze back to the syllabus, your heart thudding in your chest.

But it’s too late.

“You looking at something, professor?” she teases, her voice light, almost singsong.

You glance up, heat flooding your face. She’s smirking now, her lips curving in a way that makes your stomach twist.

“I was just—” You scramble for an excuse, but she cuts you off.

“It’s fine,” she says, leaning her chin on her hand, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You don’t have to be so uptight, you know. We’re both adults here.”

You clear your throat, determined to move past the moment. “Let’s stay on topic. Target markets. Who’s buying your cosmetics?”

She shrugs, clearly unfazed. “Everyone. Duh.”

“That’s too broad,” you counter, grateful for the distraction. “You need to narrow it down. Focus on specific demographics.”

“Okay, fine.” She pretends to think for a moment, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Women in their twenties, I guess. Maybe teens, if it’s affordable. Oh, and influencers, obviously.”

“Good,” you say, nodding. “And how do you reach them?”

“Social media,” she says instantly, her confidence returning. “Instagram, TikTok, YouTube—wherever they’re scrolling.”

“Exactly,” you say, hoping to keep the momentum going. “And what about pricing strategy?”

“Cheap enough to buy, but expensive enough to look fancy,” she says, her lips quirking into a grin. “See? I’m not totally clueless.”

You can’t help but smile, despite yourself. “No, you’re not. But there’s still a lot to cover, and the clock’s ticking.”

“Then we’d better hurry,” she says, though her tone is far from urgent. She picks up her phone again, glancing at the screen before setting it back down with a sigh. “Okay, professor. Teach me.”

You shake your head, already bracing for the next distraction. This session is going to test every ounce of your patience.

—

Your bachelor apartment is the definition of bare-bones living. A twin bed shoved against one wall, a battered desk holding your overworked laptop, a couple of mismatched chairs around a table that’s seen better days. The faint hum of traffic from the campus filters through the window you’ve cracked open to keep the place from feeling too stuffy. You kick your shoes off, tossing your bag onto the floor with a weary sigh. It’s been one of those days—endless errands, an exhausting afternoon of pretending you’re more qualified than you are, and, of course, Yunjin.

She’s been stuck in your head since you left the office. Not intentionally—God, no. But something about her lingers. Maybe it’s the way she never takes anything seriously, or the way she seems so effortlessly self-assured. Like nothing in the world could possibly rattle her. It’s frustrating and impressive all at once.

You collapse onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Yunjin. You know her type, the popular girls who glide through life on charm and good looks, who never have to try as hard as everyone else because people are just drawn to them. You’ve met girls like her before—confident, flirty, always with one eye on their phone. She’s not stupid, though. That much is clear. If anything, she’s sharp in a way that’s hard to pin down. She knows how to navigate people, situations. She knows exactly how much effort to put in to get what she wants and no more.

Your phone buzzes on the bedside table, snapping you out of your thoughts. You pick it up, scrolling aimlessly through emails, notifications, news articles—anything to distract yourself. But your mind keeps circling back. What was it she said earlier? About TikTok?

Before you can second-guess yourself, your fingers are typing the app into the search bar, downloading it in seconds. The interface is unfamiliar at first, a stream of random videos you don’t care about flashing across the screen. But it doesn’t take long to find her.

There she is. Yunjin.__official. The profile picture is exactly what you’d expect—her smiling, hair perfect, lips glossy. Her bio reads: Business student | DM for collabs. She has over a hundred thousand followers.

Your thumb hovers for a moment before you tap on her profile. The screen fills with a grid of her videos, each one a window into her carefully curated world. You tell yourself it’s just curiosity, harmless research. Nothing more.

The first video you watch is one of her dancing in her room, the camera propped up to capture every move. She’s good, you realize, her body moving fluidly, every motion precise and confident. She’s wearing workout gear—tight leggings, a cropped top—and the way the fabric clings to her curves is impossible to ignore.

You swipe to the next video. This one’s more playful, her lip-syncing to some trending audio while twirling in a skirt that flares out with every spin. The lighting is perfect, her makeup flawless, her smile dazzling.

Another video. This time she’s at a party, surrounded by friends, laughing and holding up a cocktail. The camera focuses on her as she leans in close, her expression mischievous, like she’s sharing a secret with the viewer.

You watch another. Then another.

Each one is different, but they all share the same energy—bright, vibrant, captivating. It’s no wonder she’s amassed such a following. She knows exactly how to play to the camera, how to draw people in.

Your gaze lingers a little too long on one video where she’s wearing a bikini, lounging by a pool. Her legs stretch out, her skin glistening in the sunlight. She flips her hair back, laughing at something offscreen, and for a moment, you forget to breathe.

You snap your phone shut like it’s burned you, your heart pounding. What the hell are you doing?

This is stupid. It’s late, and you’re tired, and wasting time on a student’s TikTok profile isn’t just unprofessional—it’s downright pathetic. You toss your phone onto the bedside table, rolling onto your back and running a hand over your face.

Your apartment is too quiet now, the silence pressing down on you. You close your eyes, willing yourself to think of something else. Anything else.

It takes longer than it should, but eventually, sleep claims you.

—

The next meeting starts much the same as the last—her sitting in the chair like she owns the room, one leg crossed over the other, scrolling through her phone with that same carefree attitude. You, on the other hand, feel like a bundle of nerves disguised as authority. But this time, you’ve come prepared.

“Hey, professor,” she says without looking up, her voice dripping with casual familiarity.

You close the door behind you, shaking your head. “Still not a professor.”

She grins, finally putting her phone face-down on the desk. “What’s up? Ready for another thrilling lecture?”

“I hope you’re ready,” you reply, pulling out a folder and setting it on the desk between you. “Did you study the material we went over last time?”

“Of course,” she says, all bright confidence. “I’m a great multitasker. I was studying while managing my social media. Killed two birds with one stone.”

You narrow your eyes slightly, not buying it for a second. “Right. Let’s see how much of it stuck.”

She raises an eyebrow, leaning forward. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You pull out a single-page worksheet, sliding it across the desk toward her. “It means I put together a quick assignment to see where you’re at. Shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes if you really studied.”

The grin drops from her face, replaced by a look of mock outrage. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

She picks up the sheet, scanning it quickly. “This looks like… work. Like actual work.”

“That’s because it is.” You cross your arms, leaning against the desk. “If you want to pass the exam, you need to prove you understand the material. And this is a good way to do that.”

“Ugh, you’re such a hardass,” she groans, slumping back in her chair dramatically.

You bite back a smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She sets the sheet down, giving you a long, appraising look. “You really aren’t gonna let me off the hook, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Not even if I—” She stops, her lips curving into a sly smile as if she’s considering something. But then she shrugs, brushing it off. “Whatever. Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Good.” You hand her a pen, feeling a small sense of victory.

She takes it with a sigh, tapping the end against the desk as she glances at the first question. “This is such a buzzkill, you know that? You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”

“Lucky me,” you deadpan, pulling out your own notes to review while she works.

For the next few minutes, the room is quiet except for the scratch of her pen against the paper. You glance up occasionally, trying to gauge her progress. She looks focused enough—her brows furrowed slightly, lips pursed in concentration—but there’s still a glint of mischief in her eyes whenever she glances your way.

After about ten minutes, she sets the pen down with a flourish. “Done. Happy now?”

“Let’s find out.” You pick up the sheet, scanning her answers. They’re… not terrible. A little rushed, a little surface-level, but not the disaster you were expecting.

“Well?” she prompts, leaning her chin on her hand. “Did I pass the pop quiz?”

“You did… okay,” you admit. “There’s room for improvement, but it’s a start.”

She beams, like you just handed her an A. “See? Told you I was a multitasking queen.”

You roll your eyes, setting the sheet down. “This isn’t about just getting by, Yunjin. If you actually put in the effort, you could do really well in this course. Maybe even excel.”

“Mm, but where’s the fun in that?” she teases, her tone light but her gaze sharper than usual. “You’re so serious all the time. Don’t you ever just… I don’t know, relax?”

“This isn’t about me,” you reply, sidestepping the question. “This is about you passing your exam.”

She leans back, her smile widening. “You’re really committed to this whole responsible TA thing, huh? It’s kind of cute.”

You stiffen slightly at the word, but she doesn’t give you time to respond.

“Don’t worry,” she adds, grabbing her phone and flipping it over in her hands. “Like I said: I’ll pass. I always do.”

You let out a breath, half-exasperated, half-resigned. “You can’t just coast through everything, Yunjin.”

“Why not?” she asks, her tone light but her gaze steady. “It’s been working pretty well so far.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat. For a moment, it feels like she’s challenging you, testing you, waiting to see how far you’ll push back.

You clear your throat, breaking the tension. “Next time, we’ll cover case studies. Real-world applications.”

She laughs, standing and stretching lazily. “Sure thing, professor. Can’t wait.”

As she walks out, phone already in hand, you sigh in relief that this session is over.

—

The apartment feels particularly quiet tonight, the faint hum of your desk lamp filling the space as you sift through a mountain of notes and research papers. It’s Friday, but for you, that doesn’t mean a night out or some kind of social escapade. It means working on your thesis, chipping away at the endless grind that defines grad school life. A cup of lukewarm coffee sits forgotten by your elbow, the words on the page starting to blur together.

Your phone buzzes against the table, a sudden break in the monotony. You glance at the screen, expecting some automated notification or maybe a text from one of your few friends. Instead, it’s from Yunjin.

Hey, I need your opinion on something.

You blink at the message, confused. It’s late—too late for anything academic, and even if it weren’t, why would she need your opinion? You tap out a quick reply, keeping it neutral.

I think you sent this to the wrong person.

Her response comes almost immediately.

Nope. It’s for you. You’re my TA, right? You’re supposed to help me with stuff.

You frown, staring at the screen. This has nothing to do with schoolwork. You type back, trying to keep your tone professional.

My number is for college purposes only. If you have a question about the material, we can go over it during our next session.

But she’s not backing down.

This is important. What should I wear to a party?

Before you can even think of how to respond, a picture pops up in the chat.

It’s her, of course. She’s standing in front of a mirror, holding her phone up to capture the shot. She’s wearing a tight, shimmery silver dress that clings to her body, hugging her curves in a way that makes it impossible to look away. Her hair falls perfectly over her shoulders, and the slit in the dress shows off one of her legs, long and toned.

Your mouth goes dry, and you look away from the screen, as if that might undo the fact that you’ve seen it. Another buzz.

Or this one?

You glance back despite yourself. The next picture shows her in a cropped black top and a leather mini skirt, her midriff on full display. Her lips are slightly parted in the photo, her eyes half-lidded, like she’s halfway into the party already.

You sit back in your chair, running a hand over your face. What the hell is she doing? This is completely inappropriate. You’re her teaching assistant, not her personal stylist. You type out another reply, this one more curt.

Yunjin, this isn’t appropriate. My role is strictly academic. I can’t help you with this.

But she’s relentless.

Relax, it’s no big deal. Just tell me which one’s better. It’s not like I’m asking you to come to the party.

Your phone buzzes again. A third picture.

This time, she’s in a red dress that’s somehow even more daring than the others. The neckline plunges low, the hemline barely brushing her thighs. She’s biting her lip in this one, a playful glint in her eyes that makes your stomach twist.

You clench your jaw, forcing yourself to focus. You’re not going to get dragged into whatever game she’s playing. You reply quickly, keeping your tone as detached as possible.

The black one is fine. Have fun.

Her response comes almost instantly.

I knew you’d like that one 😏

You exhale sharply, annoyed at yourself for even engaging with this. Your hands hover over the keyboard, trying to think of a way to end this conversation. But before you can, another message pops up.

I already miss our fun study sessions, you know. You’re so serious all the time—it’s cute.

You grip your phone tightly, trying to keep your temper in check. She’s toying with you, that much is obvious. You remind yourself she’s just a student—an infuriating, distracting student who doesn’t seem to understand boundaries.

Don’t party too hard. And remember to study.

Her reply is quick, as if she’s been waiting for it.

You’re such a buzzkill, professor. See you next week 😘

You set your phone down, staring at it like it might explode. Things are only getting worse, and you fear what's yet to come.

—

The moment you step into the office, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of Yunjin lounging in her chair like she’s waiting for a casual coffee date, not an academic session. Today, her outfit is as striking as ever—a snug, low-cut blouse paired with a skirt that rides just high enough to make you uncomfortable. She’s scrolling through her phone, as always, her attention miles away from the materials you’ve prepared.

“Good afternoon,” you say, trying to inject some authority into your tone as you set your bag down on the desk.

She glances up briefly, flashing you that disarming smile. “Hey, professor.”

“Not a professor,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Ready to get started?”

“Always,” she replies, but the way she lazily props her chin on her hand suggests otherwise.

You pull out the case study you’ve prepared, laying out the printed pages in front of you. “Today, we’re focusing on real-world applications. Case studies are a key part of the exam, so—”

Her phone buzzes, and she glances down, her fingers flying across the screen as she types out a reply. You stop mid-sentence, your patience already wearing thin.

“Yunjin,” you say sharply, and her eyes flick up to meet yours, wide and innocent.

“What? I’m listening.”

“No, you’re not. You’re on your phone. Again.”

She smirks, leaning back in her chair. “Okay, okay, you caught me. But in my defense, multitasking is a valuable skill in business, right?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling slowly. “You need to focus. This material is important, and if you don’t take it seriously, you’re going to fail.”

She pouts, tilting her head to the side. “Maybe it’s just hard to focus because you’re way over there. Don’t you think it’d be easier if you sat next to me?”

You hesitate, eyeing the empty chair beside her. There’s something about the way she’s looking at you—half-teasing, half-challenging—that makes your skin prickle. But you can’t think of a valid excuse to say no, so with a resigned sigh, you pick up your notes and move to the seat beside her.

“Happy now?” you ask, your tone clipped.

“Much,” she says, her lips curving into a satisfied smile.

You try to steer the session back on track, pointing to the first section of the case study. “This example looks at how a small business expanded its market share by identifying underserved demographics—”

“Do I make you nervous?” she interrupts, her voice low and almost playful.

You freeze for a split second, caught off guard. “What?”

She leans in slightly, her hair brushing her shoulder as she studies you with an amused glint in her eyes. “You seem a little tense. Like I’m throwing you off your game.”

“I’m not nervous,” you reply stiffly, focusing on the papers in front of you.

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, clearly unconvinced. Her hand shifts on the table, and for a moment, her fingers brush against yours—light, fleeting, but enough to send a jolt through you.

You pull your hand back, pretending to adjust the papers. “Can we focus, please?”

“I am focused,” she says, feigning innocence. “But you’re not making it easy. Maybe if you loosened up a little—”

“Yunjin,” you cut her off, your tone sharper than you intended. “This isn’t a game. Either you take this seriously, or we’re wasting both our time.”

She blinks at you, her lips parting in mock surprise. “Wow, look at you, laying down the law. That’s kind of hot.”

You ignore the comment, flipping to the next section of the case study. “This part covers the importance of pricing strategy in competitive markets. I want you to read through it and summarize the key points.”

“Ugh, homework, really?” she groans, slumping in her chair.

“It’s not homework. It’s research,” you correct. “I expect you to come back with a full summary by—”

“Can’t I have, like, a week?” she interrupts, her tone dripping with exaggerated pleading.

“No,” you say firmly. “Three days.”

“Three days? Are you serious?”

“Yes. And if you keep complaining, I’ll make it two.”

Her eyes narrow, but there’s a spark of amusement behind the irritation. “You’re ruthless, professor.”

“Not a professor,” you mutter again, gathering your things. “And I’m serious about the deadline. If you want to pass, you need to put in the effort.”

She sighs dramatically, but there’s a playful edge to it. “Fine. You win. Three days.”

“Good. We can end it here. Use your free time to start your research.” You stand, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll see you at the next session.”

“Can’t wait,” she says, her smile lingering as you walk to the door.

—

The apartment feels like a safe haven when you finally stumble inside, just tipsy enough to make your head feel light but not so much that you’re completely out of it. The air smells faintly of leftover takeout and stale coffee, the way it always does after a long week. Your shoes hit the floor near the door, and you don’t bother picking them up. Instead, you head straight for the couch, collapsing with a heavy sigh.

You needed that night out—needed the drinks, the music, the laughter with friends. It wasn’t anything wild; just a low-key bar near campus, a few rounds of beer, and some half-baked attempts at catching up with everyone’s lives. But it was still more social interaction than you’d had in weeks. Between your own academic deadlines and the increasingly complicated ordeal of tutoring Yunjin, you’d been feeling stretched thin.

Yunjin. Of course, she slips into your thoughts now, the alcohol softening the usual mental barriers you keep firmly in place. She’s been a handful—distracting, playful, unpredictable. And yet, despite every attempt to keep things professional, you can’t stop thinking about her.

Reaching for your phone, you unlock it almost without realizing, falling into the familiar trap of social media scrolling. You tell yourself you’re just unwinding, but before long, you’re typing her name into the TikTok search bar.

Her profile lights up the screen, her most recent video already autoplaying. It’s her dancing again, this time in a sleek black dress that hugs her figure in all the right places. She moves effortlessly to the beat, her smile teasing, her gaze aimed directly at the camera. She looks… stunning.

You swipe to the next video, then the next, each one somehow more captivating than the last. It’s like she knows exactly how to grab attention, how to hold it. Your head feels warm, your thoughts fuzzy as you watch her, your focus narrowing down to just her.

When you finally snap out of it, guilt crashes over you like a wave. What the hell are you doing? You close the app, shaking your head, but the image of her lingers, burned into your mind.

Maybe something else will clear your head. You open Instagram, her profile is the first suggestion, she's posted new stories, but you don't dare watch them. You refuse to give her the satisfaction of knowing you're checking up on her. So, you settle for mindlessly scrolling through her feed, trying not to linger on any one post for too long, until you remember Twitter—X, as you don't like to call it.

The one platform you still use regularly. You tell yourself it’s just to check the news or see what your friends are up to, but before you know it, you’re scrolling through Yunjin’s tweets.

“Some guys are so oblivious it’s cute 🙄💖”

Your heart skips a beat. You scroll down, only to find more.

“It’s kind of cute, though. Watching him pretend he’s not into me. Playing hard to get? Or just clueless?”

Another tweet.

“Bet he’s thinking about me right now. ;)”

You swallow hard, your thumb hovering over the screen. Is she… talking about you? No, that’s ridiculous. She’s a student. You’re her TA. But the way she’s been acting—the teasing, the flirting, the way she always seems to have you off-balance—it’s hard not to wonder. Still, you tell yourself it’s just a coincidence. There’s no way she’s—

And then it happens. Your thumb slips, tapping the heart icon before you even realize what you’ve done.

“Shit,” you mutter, staring at the bright red heart like it’s mocking you. Your pulse spikes as you fumble to undo it, the screen blurring for a second as you scramble to fix your mistake. You tap the heart again, the red disappearing, but the damage is done. But has she already seen it? Does Twitter even notify people that fast? Your heart is pounding, your brain racing through worst-case scenarios.

You toss your phone onto the couch, running a hand through your hair. Maybe she didn’t notice. Maybe she’s busy. Maybe, for once, luck will be on your side.

But as you sit there, the room spinning slightly, the thought nags at you. What if she knows? What if this is exactly the kind of confirmation she’s been waiting for?

The alcohol isn’t helping. It’s making everything feel bigger, heavier, more immediate. You grab your phone again, staring at the screen like it might offer you answers. But there’s nothing. No notifications, no messages.

You drop your head into your hands, groaning softly. You’re not helping yourself in this situation.

—

The door feels heavier than usual as you push it open, the familiar office waiting for you inside. You’re gripping your bag tightly, trying to shake off the nerves that have been building since last night. The tweets, the like, the un-like—it’s been on your mind nonstop. But you keep telling yourself she didn’t notice. She couldn’t have.

The air is warmer today, and as usual, Yunjin is already seated, legs crossed, phone in hand. She’s wearing a fitted blouse with the top buttons undone and a pleated skirt that rides high on her thighs, her usual flair for turning any setting into her personal stage.

“Good afternoon,” you say, your voice coming out strained despite your best effort to sound composed.

“Hey, professor,” she greets, glancing up with a lazy smile before setting her phone down. “Oh, wait. Not a professor. Just my very dedicated teaching assistant.”

You ignore the tease, sitting at your usual spot across the table. “I assume you’ve brought the research I asked for?”

Her expression shifts, and she gives you a sheepish smile, leaning back in her chair. “About that…”

“Yunjin. Don’t tell me—”

“I didn’t finish it,” she says quickly, holding up her hands as if to ward off your reaction. “The deadline was so short! And I had other stuff going on. It’s not like I didn’t try—I just couldn’t get it done in time.”

You lean back in your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You promised to take this seriously.”

“I am taking it seriously,” she insists, though her tone is more casual than apologetic. “It’s just… you didn’t give me much time.”

“That’s because this is supposed to be a priority,” you snap, unable to hide your frustration.

She pouts slightly, leaning forward. “Look, I’ll finish it. I’ll email it to you later tonight. Then we can talk about it during the next session. Deal?”

You exhale sharply, clearly irritated, but you nod. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to waste today.”

“Thanks, professor,” she says, her smile returning, bright and unbothered.

You pull out her last exam, sliding it across the table. “Let’s go over this instead. Your answers weren’t terrible, but they were surface-level. You’re missing depth, and that’s going to hurt you in the final.”

She groans softly but leans forward, propping her chin on her hand. “Okay, fine. Teach me.”

As you begin reviewing her answers, pointing out areas for improvement, she suddenly interrupts. “Can you sit next to me? It’s easier to see the paper that way.”

You hesitate for a moment before moving to the chair beside her, trying not to overthink it. She scoots closer, and you force yourself to focus on the exam in front of you, walking her through the corrections.

To your surprise, she’s paying attention for once, asking questions and even jotting down notes. But every so often, you catch her looking at you, her lips curving into a small smile when your eyes meet. It’s distracting—too distracting.

“Are you even listening?” you ask, your tone sharper than intended.

“Of course,” she replies, her smile widening. “I just like how serious you look when you’re explaining stuff. It’s cute.”

You ignore the comment, pushing through the rest of the review until, finally, the session is over. Relief washes over you as you start packing up, eager to put distance between you and the lingering tension in the room.

“Well, I’ll see you next time,” you say, standing and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

But just as you’re about to leave, Yunjin speaks up. “Oh, by the way…”

You pause, turning back to her. “What?”

Her smile turns sly, her gaze locking onto yours. “I know you’ve been stalking me.”

Your heart skips a beat, panic rising in your chest. “What are you talking about?”

She leans back in her chair, crossing her legs casually. “Twitter, professor. You liked my tweet last night. Even if you un-liked it right after, I still got the notification.”

Your face flushes hot, and you stammer out a denial. “That was—it was an accident. I wasn’t stalking you.”

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, clearly amused. “Sure, it was an accident. But you’ve been watching my TikToks too, haven’t you? Don’t worry, I don’t mind. I mean, you must like what you see, right?”

“Yunjin,” you say sharply, trying to regain control of the situation. “This is inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate?” she echoes, feigning innocence. “You’re the one watching my videos. I’m just offering to help.”

She leans forward slightly, her voice dropping to a playful murmur. “There are some pictures I can’t post online, but if you’re interested, I could send them to you directly. Just say the word.”

Your throat feels tight, your heart pounding in your ears. “Enough,” you say, your voice firm despite your growing discomfort. “This conversation is over. Focus on finishing your research, and I’ll see you at the next session.”

Before she can respond, you turn and leave, the door clicking shut behind you. Your pulse is racing as you walk down the hallway, the weight of her words pressing heavily on your chest. Whatever game Yunjin is playing, you need to figure out how to stop her, because she's winning. And she knows it.

—

The meeting room is stuffy, filled with the low hum of conversation as teachers and teaching assistants shuffle through papers, laptops glowing on the table. Discussions blur together—deadlines, assignment structures, grading systems. It’s a routine part of the job, but today, the monotony feels heavier than usual. You’ve barely slept, and the endless logistics are starting to drag you down.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, a tiny lifeline in the sea of boredom. Pulling it out discreetly, you glance at the screen. The message is from Yunjin, which immediately gets your attention. Maybe she’s finally sent the research.

You unlock the screen, expecting a quick note about emailing the document. Instead, you freeze.

The photo stares back at you, and for a moment, your brain short-circuits. Yunjin is lying on a bed, her body draped in sheer lingerie that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. Her lips are pouty, glossy, her eyes half-lidded as she gazes directly into the camera. The curve of her hips, the delicate lace barely covering her small breasts—you almost drop your phone on the floor.

Your stomach twists in a mix of shock and something far more raw.

You glance up quickly, scanning the room. No one’s looking at you—everyone’s absorbed in their own work. But the heat rising in your face makes you paranoid. You tilt your phone slightly, shielding the screen from view, and scroll down, hoping for clarification.

Another photo.

This time, the angle is wider, showing her sprawled on her bed with a laptop propped up in front of her. The message accompanying it reads:

Finishing my research. Thought you’d want proof I’m working hard 😉

The sheer lingerie is even more revealing in this shot, the delicate fabric hugging her curves, the way her breasts press against the lace, the faint outline of her nipples—it’s too much. Your dick stirs in your pants, completely out of your control, and you have to shift in your seat to keep yourself from reacting further.

You type back quickly, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

You didn’t need to send pictures. Just the research would’ve been fine.

Her reply is almost instant.

But I wanted to show you I’m putting in the effort. Don’t you think I deserve a little reward?

Your pulse spikes, and you grip your phone tighter. What the hell is she doing? You take a slow breath, forcing yourself to focus.

Your reward will be getting an A on the exam. That’s the goal, right?

Her response is teasing, playful.

Oh, I’ve got another exam I want an A on. And I know I can ace it.

Your jaw clenches, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to keep your expression neutral as you glance around the room again. No one seems to notice your distraction, but the heat creeping up your neck makes you feel exposed.

You type back, your fingers moving quickly.

Just focus on finishing the research. That’s all that matters right now.

She doesn’t back down.

Fine, but don’t forget about my reward, professor. I worked really hard on this, you know.

Before you can think it through, your fingers type a reply that surprises even you.

I’ll think about it later.

Her next message comes with a string of emojis—a cheer, a wink, a heart. Then:

Yay! You’re the best 🥰. Don’t stress too much, okay?

You set your phone down, turning it face-down on the table like that might somehow erase the conversation from existence. But the damage is done. Your heart is pounding, your mind racing, and the tension in your body is impossible to ignore.

What the hell are you doing? You’re losing control of the situation—of yourself—and Yunjin knows it. She’s toying with you, testing your boundaries, and the worst part is, you can’t seem to stop her.

—

The air feels charged the moment you step into the office. Yunjin’s sitting there, but there’s something different about her today—her confidence is practically radiating off her. She’s wearing a strapless crop top that clings to her figure, showing her toned stomach, and a skirt so short it rides high on her thighs when she crosses her legs. Her hair is styled to perfection, glossy and smooth, and her lips are painted a shade of red that’s just subtle enough to feel dangerous.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure. The memory of her last text conversation is still fresh, and you can feel the weight of it pressing down on you. But this is supposed to be a professional setting. You remind yourself of that as you set your bag down on the table and pull out her research paper that you printed.

“Well,” you begin, keeping your tone steady. “I have to say, I’m impressed. You really outdid yourself with this.”

Her smile widens, and she leans forward slightly in her chair. “You really think so?”

“I do,” you admit, holding up the paper. “You dug into the material, analyzed it well. It’s thorough. If you put this much effort into your exam, you’ll have no problem passing.”

She stands then, smooth and deliberate, and your chest tightens as she closes the distance between you. “When I thought about how proud you’d be,” she says, her voice soft and teasing, “I couldn’t help but try a little harder.”

You lean against the table, trying to create some distance, but it doesn’t help. She’s right there, standing just close enough for you to catch the faint scent of her perfume.

“This is our last session before the exam,” you say, your voice tight. “Let’s focus on going over your research. We’ll review the points you brought—”

Before you can finish, she reaches out and snatches the paper from your hand. Her eyes gleam with mischief as she steps even closer, tilting her head to look up at you.

“What about my reward?” she asks, her voice dropping into a lower, sultrier tone.

Your blood heats instantly, your pulse pounding in your ears. You take a sharp breath, trying to push the rising tide of desire back down. “Yunjin,” you say, your tone edged with warning. “We don’t have time for this. Your exam is right around the corner—”

“Forget about the damn exam,” she interrupts, her voice firm but still teasing. “I don’t care about that right now.”

Her finger presses lightly against your chest, trailing downward over your shirt. The touch is electric, sending sparks down your spine, and for a moment, you can’t move.

“Yunjin,” you whisper, her name catching in your throat.

She steps closer, her body brushing yours, her lips curving into that maddening smile. “Stop pretending you’re not into me,” she murmurs.

“This is unethical,” you say, your voice strained, but even you can hear the weakness in it.

“No one has to know,” she counters, her finger still moving slowly down your chest. Her voice drops again, turning into a near whisper. “What did you do with the pictures I sent you? Hm?”

You freeze, your breath catching.

“I bet you jerked off to them,” she continues, her words deliberate and slow. “I bet you imagined me on that bed, in that lingerie. I bet you imagined fucking me.”

It’s too much. The tension, the temptation, the way she’s looking at you with those half-lidded eyes—it all boils over. Before you can stop yourself, you grab her, your hands gripping her waist as you kiss her hard.

She gasps softly against your mouth, her body tensing in surprise, but she recovers quickly, her hands sliding up to your shoulders as she kisses you back with just as much heat. Her lips are soft and plush, tasting faintly of gloss, and the way she moves against you is intoxicating.

Your hands move instinctively, one sliding up her back while the other presses against her hip. Her skin is warm beneath the thin fabric of her top, and the closeness of her body only stokes the fire burning inside you.

Without breaking the kiss, you guide her toward the door, fumbling with the lock until you hear the satisfying click. It’s only then that you let yourself acknowledge what’s happening, fully giving in to the need that’s been building for weeks.

She pulls back slightly, her breath coming in quick gasps as she looks up at you, her eyes wide and dark with desire.

“This what you wanted?” you ask, your voice rough, your hands still holding her tightly.

She smiles, slow and wicked. “Yes,” she whispers.

Your grip tightens on her waist, and you push her back against the wall, your lips finding hers again with even more urgency. Her hands slide up into your hair, tugging lightly, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine.

This girl—she’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. You’ve never wanted someone this badly, never felt this out of control. And for once, you don’t care.

Your hands fumble with the belt at your waist, the leather slipping through the loops as you tug it free with an urgency that borders on desperation. The metal buckle clinks loudly in the otherwise silent room, and Yunjin smiles, leaning back against the wall, looking so damn pleased with herself. Her lips are parted, her chest rising and falling in anticipation, and that smug expression on her face only makes the heat inside you burn hotter.

“You have no idea how much you’ve been driving me fucking crazy,” you growl, your voice low and rough, barely able to contain the frustration and desire that have been building for what feels like forever.

Her smile turns into a wicked grin, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “Then show me,” she whispers, her voice soft but daring. “Show me how crazy I’ve made you.”

You shove your pants down, along with your boxers, kicking them off with your shoes in one quick motion. Your cock springs free, hard and aching, the weight of it hanging heavy between your legs. The cool air against your skin only heightens the tension crackling in the room.

Yunjin’s eyes drop immediately, her tongue flicking over her lips as she takes you in, and for once, she doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t have to. The look on her face says it all.

Your hands move to her hips, and you yank her skirt up roughly, the fabric bunching around her waist. That’s when you see it—she’s not wearing any panties. Nothing at all. The curve of her bare ass, the glistening heat between her thighs, it’s all there, shamelessly on display.

“You little whore,” you hiss, your fingers digging into her soft flesh.

“Yes,” she breathes, arching her back and pressing her ass against you. “I am. I’ve been waiting for you to finally notice.”

“Well, you’ve got my attention now,” you snap, your voice heavy with a mix of irritation and raw lust.

Without another word, you drop to your knees, grabbing her hips to steady her as you position yourself behind her. Her ass is sticking out, her body pressed against the wall, her legs slightly parted. The sight of her like this, so willing, so ready—it’s almost too much.

You spread her cheeks, exposing her fully to you, and you’re met with the sight of her pussy, already slick and glistening, her arousal shining in the dim light of the room. The smell of her hits you instantly—sweet and musky, intoxicating.

Leaning in, you drag your tongue over her folds, slow and deliberate, tasting her for the first time. She gasps, her body jerking slightly at the contact, and her hands press against the wall for support.

“Fuck,” she moans, her voice high and needy. “More.”

You don’t hesitate. You bury your face between her thighs, your tongue sliding through her wetness, exploring every inch of her. You flick your tongue over her clit, and she lets out a loud, breathy moan, her hips grinding back against your face.

Her taste is addictive, her slick heat coating your lips and tongue as you work her over. You grip her thighs, spreading her wider, giving yourself more access as you suck her clit into your mouth, rolling your tongue over the sensitive nub.

“Shit, that feels so good,” she whimpers, her voice breathless. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

You hum against her, the vibration making her gasp again, and you dive back in, fucking her with your tongue before moving back to her clit. She’s dripping now, her juices slicking your chin, but you don’t care. All you can think about is how good she tastes, how perfect she feels under your tongue.

Her moans grow louder, more desperate, her fingers curling against the wall as she pushes her hips back, practically riding your face. “Yes, fuck, just like that,” she cries, her voice breaking. “More. I need more.”

And you give it to her. Your fingers dig into Yunjin’s soft, perfect ass, the same one you’ve seen flaunted all over Instagram and TikTok—dancing, teasing, making you want something you shouldn't. But now it's here, in your hands, trembling under your touch as your tongue drags through her soaked folds again. She's moaning, gasping, her body pressing harder into the wall, and you can feel the way she’s falling apart, unraveling under your mouth.

“Oh fuck, professor,” she gasps, her voice dripping with something between amusement and desperation. You know she’s doing it on purpose—calling you that even though you’re just the teaching assistant, pushing buttons, seeing how far she can take it now that you’ve finally snapped.

You don’t care anymore.

Your grip tightens, fingers sinking into her flesh possessively, your tongue working faster, harder. Yunjin’s hips jerk, her thighs quivering, and she whines, that high-pitched, needy sound that makes your cock throb painfully with desire. Her juices are all over your mouth, dripping down your chin, and you don’t stop, don’t let up, because you need her to know she’s not in control anymore.

“I knew you'd be good at this,” she breathes, pushing her hips back into your face, rocking against you shamelessly. “All that self-control... gone.”

You groan into her, the vibrations making her moan louder, her fingers clawing at the wall for support. She's a mess, squirming, panting, but you pull back suddenly.

She gasps, looking over her shoulder with a half-lidded, fucked-out expression. “W-why’d you stop?”

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, your lips glistening with her slick, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “Because I need more.”

Before she can say anything, you're standing up, pressing your body against hers, the heat of her skin making everything more real, more alive. Your hands grab her hips roughly, and you feel her shiver when your cock, hard and aching, presses against the dripping heat between her thighs.

She lets out a sharp gasp when you slide the tip in, her pussy so tight, squeezing you instantly, and yet so slick from your mouth that you slide deeper without resistance. Her hands slam against the wall, her mouth falling open in shock. “Oh, fuck, you—you're so—”

You don’t let her finish. You grip her waist and thrust in deeper, stretching her inch by inch, and she melts against you, her breathy moans echoing in the small office. Her tight heat wraps around you perfectly, and it’s fucking perfect, the way she clenches down, her body welcoming you with every movement.

“You didn’t think I’d actually fuck you like this, did you?” you murmur against her ear, your voice rough, dark.

She whimpers, pushing back against you, her nails scratching the wall. “I hoped,” she gasps, her voice breaking when you thrust harder, slamming her hips against the wall. “I wanted you to, so fucking bad—”

Your grip on her tightens, your hands roaming over her body, gripping her hips, her waist, her ass—claiming her, branding her. She’s yours now, and she knows it.

“Then take it,” you growl, pounding into her harder, your hips slamming against hers. Yunjin cries out, her body arching, her head falling back against your shoulder as she surrenders completely.

She's giving herself to you, and you take everything.

Your hips snap forward, slamming into Yunjin’s tight, slick pussy with a rhythm that grows rougher, harder, more desperate by the second. Her moans are high and breathless, rising with each thrust.

But it’s not enough.

Your hands slide up her body, greedy and possessive, until they reach her small, almost-flat chest. The crop top she’s wearing clings to her like a second skin, and it’s been driving you insane since you entered the room. She had to do this—she had to tease you, prance around in those tiny fucking tops like she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.

Gripping the hem, you yank it down roughly, baring her breasts in one swift motion. They’re small, just barely enough to fill your hands, but perfect. Perfect in a way that makes your head spin. Her nipples are already hard, tight little buds that beg for your attention, and you don’t hold back.

“God, I’ve been imagining this,” you growl, cupping her tits, rolling her nipples between your fingers. The soft gasp that leaves her lips only spurs you on, your voice dark and raw. “Ever since the first day I saw you in one of these slutty little tops. I wanted to do this. I wanted to see these tits—these fucking perfect tits you love to show off.”

Yunjin cries out, arching her back, pushing her chest into your hands. “Fuck,” she gasps, her voice trembling with pleasure. “I knew you wanted me, professor. I could feel it. And now you’ve got me. You’ve got me so fucking wet.”

Your cock twitches inside her at her words, and you thrust harder, making her yelp, her thighs shaking against you. “You’re the kind of girl who drives me insane,” you admit, your hands still kneading her breasts, tugging her nipples, making her moan louder.

“Yeah?” she pants, turning her head to look at you over her shoulder, her eyes dark with lust. “Am I your type? Is that it? You like slutty girls like me?”

You groan, your hands sliding down to her waist, gripping her tightly as you fuck her harder. “Yes,” you growl through clenched teeth. “That’s the fucking problem. Girls like you—slutty little teases who know exactly what they’re doing—drive me out of my goddamn mind.”

She lets out a choked laugh, her head dropping forward as you hammer into her, her body jolting against the wall. “Then go crazy,” she whispers, her voice dripping with challenge.

Something in you snaps. You pull out suddenly, ignoring her whimper of protest, and grab her roughly by the hips. Turning her around, you lift her onto the table in one swift motion, throwing her onto her back with no hesitation. Her skirt is still bunched around her waist, and her crop top is shoved down, her bare tits on full display as she sprawls out in front of you.

You lean over her, grabbing one of her breasts and taking the nipple into your mouth, sucking hard. Yunjin cries out, her back arching off the table, her hands flying to your hair as she holds you there.

“Oh my god,” she moans, her voice shaking. “Yes, yes, suck them. Fuck, that feels so good—”

You switch to the other nipple, your tongue flicking over the hardened peak before you suck it into your mouth, drawing another loud, breathless moan from her. She’s squirming under you, her thighs spreading wider as her hands tug at your hair, desperate for more.

When you finally pull back, her chest is heaving, her skin flushed, her lips parted in a way that makes your cock throb. You grip her hips, dragging her to the edge of the table, and position yourself between her legs.

The sight of her like this—her skirt pushed up, her top pulled down, her bare tits rising and falling with every shaky breath—is enough to make you lose what little control you have left. She looks like a slutty schoolgirl, and you can’t stop yourself from imagining her like that, teasing every teacher she’s ever had until she found one who finally gave in.

“You look like such a fucking slut,” you growl, lining yourself up and slamming into her in one hard thrust.

Yunjin cries out, her head falling back against the table, her hands flying to your arms as you grip her hips and start fucking her again. “I am,” she whimpers, her voice high and desperate. “I’m your slut.”

And that’s all you need to hear.

Your hips move like they have a mind of their own, pounding into Yunjin’s tight, soaking pussy with a relentless rhythm that leaves no space for hesitation. The way she moans—high, breathless, desperate—fuels you, makes you fuck her harder, deeper, chasing that feeling of being completely lost in her.

She’s gripping the edges of the table, her knuckles white, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes are hazy, lips parted, and the way pleasure takes over her face is fucking intoxicating.

“F-fuck,” she gasps, her voice trembling as you keep slamming into her, your cock stretching her perfectly. “If you keep—keep going like this, I’m gonna—”

“That’s the point,” you growl, leaning over her, your hands tightening on her thighs as you thrust even harder. “Cum on my cock, Yunjin. I want to feel it.”

“Fuck, professor,” she moans, rolling her hips up to meet your every thrust, and hearing that word spill from her lips so naturally drives you fucking crazy. She loves calling you that, loves the way it sounds when she’s this desperate and fucked out.

Your thumb finds her clit, still sensitive from the way your mouth had worked her over earlier, and the second you press down, she nearly jumps off the table.

“Oh my God,” she whimpers, squirming under you, her body tensing. “Too much—fuck, that’s so—”

But you don’t stop. You rub tight circles over her clit, making her thighs tremble around your waist, and the louder she moans, the harder you fuck her. You forget everything—where you are, what you’re doing. You don’t care that you're in a office, on campus, where anyone could hear. All you care about is making her cum.

“Cum for me,” you demand, your voice rough, your cock throbbing inside her. “Come on, slut. Cum all over my cock.”

“I’m—I’m almost—” Her voice breaks, and her whole body tightens, her pussy clenching down around you so hard it makes your own pleasure spike.

Your thrusts grow even faster, each one hitting so deep it leaves her gasping, and her wetness makes everything filthy, each slap of your hips against her sounding louder, slicker. The obscene noise fills the room, but you’re too far gone to care.

And then she breaks.

Her entire body shudders, her back arching off the table as she covers her mouth with one trembling hand, muffling the scream that threatens to spill out. Her pussy clenches around you, pulsing with each wave of pleasure that rocks through her, and you keep fucking her through it, driving slow, deep thrusts into her shaking body.

Each slow pull out, each hard thrust back in, sends a jolt through her, making her whimper into her palm, her eyes squeezed shut as the aftershocks keep rolling through her.

You finally slow down, your cock still throbbing inside her, soaked in everything she’s given you. You pull out slowly, watching the way her pussy clings to you, reluctant to let go.

“On your knees,” you order, your voice thick and wrecked.

She’s still trembling, but she slides off the table, her legs shaky as she sinks down in front of you, eyes dark with lust, lips swollen from all her moaning. She looks up at you through heavy lashes, her skirt still bunched up, her top still tugged down, her tits out and flushed.

She grabs your cock with both hands, stroking it once, twice, and the sight of her, kneeling, covered in her own arousal, makes you think you should have fucked her sooner.

Then her lips part, and she wraps them around the head of your cock, sucking you in with that perfect, practiced mouth.

“Fuck,” you hiss, your hand tangling in her hair, guiding her as she takes more of you in. Her lips leave smudges of lipstick along your shaft, marking you, staining you with that perfect, slutty red.

She moans around you, her tongue swirling, and you watch as she bobs her head, her mouth stretching to accommodate you. It’s hot—so fucking hot—the way she’s so eager, so desperate to taste herself on your cock.

“Good girl,” you murmur, your grip tightening on her hair as you guide her pace. “Suck it all, baby.”

Yunjin hums in response, the vibrations making you groan, and you know you’re not going to last much longer.

Yunjin’s mouth is a fucking masterpiece. Her plump, wet lips glide over your cock with a skill that has you gripping the edge of the table for support. Drool drips down her chin, slick and messy, pooling at the corners of her mouth as she takes you deeper, her throat flexing around your length. The obscene, wet sounds echo in the quiet room, each suck, each moan sending shockwaves straight to your core.

She’s a mess, lipstick smeared, saliva glistening on her chin and trailing down her neck, but she doesn’t stop. If anything, she gets sloppier, filthier, letting spit dribble down your shaft as she strokes you with both hands, twisting, squeezing, making sure you're soaked in her mess.

“Fuck, Yunjin,” you groan, your hand tangled in her hair, guiding her movements. “Just like that. Keep going.”

She hums around you, the vibration making your thighs tense. Then, without warning, she moves lower, dragging her slick tongue down to your balls, sucking one into her mouth while still jerking your cock. The way her tongue swirls around them, wet and warm, sends you reeling, your cock twitching in her grip.

Your head falls back, a low, guttural groan slipping past your lips. She knows exactly what she’s doing, taking her time, teasing, drawing it out until you’re on the verge of losing control.

Then she’s back on your cock, focusing on the sensitive head, sucking hard, her tongue flicking over the slit, drawing out beads of pre-cum. Wet, obscene noises fill the air, her lips working you with relentless precision.

“I’m close,” you grit out, your muscles tensing, your whole body tightening in anticipation.

But just when you think you’re about to explode, she pulls off with a pop, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her lipstick smeared across her flushed skin, drool glistening on her chin. She looks up at you, eyes dark and needy, lips swollen and shining.

“Cum inside me,” she says, her voice dripping with sin. “I want it. I’m on the pill, so don’t hold back.”

That's all you need to hear. No hesitation. No second thoughts. You’re on her in an instant, hauling her up off her knees, your hands gripping her thighs as you carry her to the chair in the corner of the room. You drop into it, pulling her onto your lap, her legs straddling you.

She doesn’t waste a second. She reaches between you, grabbing your slick, throbbing cock and guiding it back inside her dripping pussy. The heat, the tightness, the way she sinks down onto you in one smooth motion makes your head spin.

“Fuck,” you hiss, your hands gripping her hips, feeling the way she clenches around you, wetter than before thanks to the sloppy blowjob she just gave you.

Yunjin smirks, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles, grinding down on you in a way that has you seeing stars. “Feel good, professor?” she purrs, her hands resting on your shoulders for balance. “You like when your little slut rides you?”

You groan, your grip tightening, but she doesn’t let up. She starts moving, bouncing on your cock with an intoxicating rhythm, her tight pussy swallowing you over and over. The way her hips roll, the way she grinds down between thrusts—it’s hypnotic, like she was made for this. Like she’s done this a million times before.

“Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing,” you pant, your head falling back against the chair.

“Of course I do,” she whispers, leaning in close, her lips brushing against your ear. “I know how to fuck. I know how to make you cum.”

Your whole body tightens, the pressure building to a breaking point as Yunjin rides you with that perfect, relentless rhythm. Her hips roll in slow, deep circles, grinding down on your cock like she owns it, like she knows exactly what you need. The wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding fill the room, her slick pussy squeezing you with every bounce, pulling you deeper, tighter.

She leans in, her breath hot against your ear, her voice a low, breathy whisper. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

Your grip on her hips tightens, fingers digging into her soft skin, trying to hold on as pleasure coils tighter and tighter inside you. “Fuck, Yunjin,” you groan, your voice rough and strained, barely holding it together.

She bites her lip, looking down at you with dark, knowing eyes. “I can feel it,” she purrs, rocking her hips down hard, her wet heat swallowing you to the hilt. “You’re so fucking close.”

You nod, chest heaving, your breath ragged. “Yeah—shit, I’m—”

“Cum inside me,” she interrupts, grinding her hips down with a sinful twist that sends sparks shooting through your spine. “I want it, professor. Fill me up.”

Her words make you moan, tearing down whatever restraint you had left. Your cock throbs inside her, and you feel yourself teetering right on the edge, so close you can’t even think straight.

“Creampie this tight little pussy,” she whispers, her lips brushing against your ear, her voice dripping with need. “I want to feel your hot, thick cum deep inside me. Come on professor, give me my reward.”

That’s it. That’s all it takes.

A strangled groan rips from your throat as you finally let go, your cock pulsing inside her, thick, hot spurts of cum spilling deep into her. Your whole body shudders, muscles going tight, and you bury your face against her neck, holding onto her like she’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Yunjin gasps, feeling every pulse, every drop of warmth filling her. Her body trembles against yours, her nails raking lightly down your back as she moans into your ear, soft and breathless. “Oh my god,” she whimpers, her hips still moving, riding out your release, grinding slow and deep to milk every last drop from you.

You grip her tighter, pushing her down onto you as deep as she can go, wanting to make sure she takes every bit of it. “Fuck, Yunjin,” you pant, feeling the way her pussy clenches around you, still so impossibly tight. “You feel so fucking good.”

She moans in response, rolling her hips lazily, a satisfied, dazed smile spreading across her lips. “Mmm, I can feel it,” she whispers, her hands sliding up your chest, her fingers tracing over your skin. “You came so much.”

You groan, your hands slipping to her ass, gripping her firmly as you thrust up into her one last time, pushing your cum deeper inside. She lets out a sharp gasp, her head falling forward against your shoulder.

A few long moments pass before she finally stills, collapsing against you, her chest heaving, her skin slick with sweat. Your hands stay on her hips, holding her in place, keeping yourself buried inside her even as your cock twitches with oversensitivity. You can feel the warmth between her legs, the way your cum is starting to trickle out, leaking down onto your thighs, but she doesn’t move—doesn’t seem to care.

You don’t say anything for a moment, just holding her, feeling her heartbeat against yours. But then she lifts her head, that familiar, wicked grin spreading across her face.

“Guess I should call you professor more often,” she whispers, rolling her hips lazily.

You groan, your head falling back against the chair. “I can't believe I fucked a student.”

Yunjin laughs, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to your lips. “And you loved every second of it."

She stays perched on your, her bare thighs pressed against yours, her pussy still warm and slick around your softening cock. The lazy rise and fall of her chest, the way her messy hair frames her flushed face—it’s all so goddamn perfect. She looks at you with that smug little smile that’s both adorable and infuriating, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across your chest.

“So,” she purrs, tilting her head slightly, “what grade do I deserve for all my... hard work?”

You smirk, running your hands up her sides, feeling the heat of her skin beneath your fingertips. “An A,” you admit, your voice still ragged from everything she’s just put you through.

Her smile widens, and she leans in, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to your lips. “I know,” she whispers, cocky as ever. She fucking knows exactly what she’s doing to you, and that little glint in her eyes makes your heart race again.

She shifts slightly, grinding down just enough to remind you that she’s still there, still wrapped around you, and then she lowers her voice. “So... can I get an A on the exam too?”

And just like that, reality comes crashing back.

You freeze, the post-orgasm haze clearing just enough for the weight of what she’s asking to settle in. This was bound to happen, wasn’t it? The teasing, the flirting, the fucking—it was all leading to this. A transactional undercurrent beneath every sultry look, every professor she moaned while you fucked her in the office.

You swallow, your hands hesitating on her waist. “Yunjin,” you start, shaking your head slightly, “I... I can’t do that. I mean, I—”

She cuts you off by pressing a finger against your lips, her eyes locking onto yours, dark and full of something dangerous. “Yes, you can,” she murmurs, leaning in just enough for her lips to brush against your cheek, teasing, distracting. “Because you like me.”

You feel your resolve wavering, your mind screaming at you to push her away, to get up, to say no—but your body? Your body’s already leaning into her, already craving more.

“And,” she continues, trailing her finger down your chest, her voice dripping with sweet, poisonous temptation, “because I know you’ll want to fuck me again. Don’t you?”

Fuck.

She’s right. Of course she’s right.

Your jaw clenches, the internal battle raging inside you—ethics, professionalism, responsibility. But what are those compared to the feel of her? The way she’s looking at you, promising so much more with just a glance? You’ve already crossed a line so thick and deep there’s no point pretending you can step back now.

She senses your hesitation, and like the predator she is, she pounces.

Her lips are back on yours, slow and sensual, tasting like sin and triumph. She rolls her hips against you, and your cock twitches, traitorous and eager. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she whispers, lips brushing against your ear. “You think today was wild? I’ll show you things that’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

Your grip tightens on her hips instinctively, and your mouth moves before your brain can catch up. “What... what kind of things?”

Yunjin grins, leaning back to meet your gaze, her fingers playing with the collar of your shirt. “Oh, professor,” she teases, eyes gleaming, “you’ll just have to say yes to find out.”

You exhale sharply, your moral compass spinning wildly, but the truth is, it’s already broken.

Fuck ethics.

Fuck responsibility.

You want her. You want her more than you care about some stupid fucking exam.

Surrendering, you nod, a shy whisper. “Fine.”

Her eyes light up, and she lets out a delighted little laugh, her arms wrapping around your neck as she rocks her hips against you. “I knew you’d come around,” she purrs, nipping at your bottom lip. “You’re too easy.”

“You’re fucking evil,” you mutter, your hands gripping her ass tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh.

She just grins. “And you fucking love it.”

You can’t argue. Not when she’s looking at you like that, like she owns you, because fuck—it sure feels like she does.

Yunjin shifts on your lap, moving in a slow, sensual grind that makes your head spin, and you groan, already hardening inside her again. “I guess I always manage to pass,” she murmurs, kissing along your jaw, “but in my own way.”

You shake your head, but there’s no fight left in you, only a deep, gnawing hunger for her. “You’re trouble,” you murmur, hands roaming her body again, already wanting more.

She smirks, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “I’m your trouble now.”

[chrissssssmut]

BOUNDED

Yandere Karina, Hanni, Danielle, Wonyoung, Liz, Chaewon and Yunjin x Male Reader

*SORRY I FINISHED THIS STORY WAY TOO FAST HAHAHAH but here enjoy!🙏*

You had never imagined your life would turn into something out of a K-drama. After your dad remarried, you suddenly found yourself with seven new stepsisters—each one impossibly beautiful and somehow way out of your league in terms of charm and charisma. At first, the arrangement was simple enough: they ignored you, rolling their eyes or tossing sharp remarks whenever you tried to bond with them. To them, you were just some awkward, out-of-place stepbrother who didn’t belong in their picture-perfect world.

“Don’t touch my stuff, oppa,” Wonyoung had said within the first week, drawing an invisible line around her side of the house.

“Do you even know how to use a dishwasher?” Hanni had teased one evening, earning giggles from Danielle and Liz.

Even Karina, the most composed of the group, had given you cold, detached stares whenever you tried to strike up a conversation.

It was fine. You figured they needed time to adjust, and honestly, so did you. Life went on, and you kept your head low, avoiding their world of glittering social events, designer wardrobes, and seemingly endless selfies.

But things changed when you grew up.

You weren’t the same awkward teen anymore. College life molded you into someone more confident, someone who knew how to dress well, speak up, and draw attention without even trying. Suddenly, your step sisters weren’t just tolerating you—they were noticing you.

It started with small, innocent gestures.

“Oppa, I made extra coffee. Want some?” Yunjin smiled one morning, sliding a cup toward you.

“You’ve been working out, haven’t you?” Chaewon commented one day, casually brushing past you in the hallway. “You look… different.”

Hanni started asking for your opinion on her outfits. Danielle insisted you join their movie nights. Wonyoung, who used to act like you didn’t exist, began hovering around you during family dinners, peppering you with questions about your day.

It felt harmless at first, even flattering. But soon, things began to escalate.

The Turning Point

You were excited for your first real date with a girl from your university. Her name was Mina—sweet, down-to-earth, and refreshingly normal compared to the chaos at home. But when you mentioned her name over dinner, the air in the dining room shifted.

“Who’s Mina?” Karina asked, her voice sharp despite her calm demeanor.

“She’s just a friend,” you replied casually, sensing the sudden tension.

“A friend?” Wonyoung repeated, her fork clinking against her plate. “You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“She’s not that important,” you said, trying to brush it off.

The next morning, Mina canceled on you.

“I’m so sorry,” she texted. “Something came up. Let’s reschedule?”

You were disappointed but didn’t think much of it—until you noticed Chaewon smirking at you from across the living room later that day.

“Plans didn’t work out?” she asked, feigning innocence.

Something about the way she said it made your stomach twist.

The more you tried to explore your social life, the tighter their grip became.

When you mentioned studying late at the library, Danielle would suddenly “accidentally” spill water on your laptop. “Oops, oppa! I guess you’ll have to stay home and fix that.”

When you came home with a new phone, Liz snatched it from your hands, scrolling through your messages before handing it back with a tight smile. “Just making sure you’re not texting anyone shady.”

And when you decided to crash at a friend’s place for the weekend, Yunjin and Chaewon appeared at your door that night, claiming they “missed you too much to stay apart.”

Every time you tried to push back, they found a way to pull you closer.

It wasn’t until Karina set the new house rules that things turned truly sinister.

“Oppa, it’s for your own good,” she said, her tone soft but unyielding. “You’re too naive. The world outside is dangerous.”

Before you could argue, Wonyoung locked the front door. The key disappeared after that.

Thrilling Descent

The days blurred together in a twisted routine. You weren’t allowed to leave the house, and your phone was constantly “misplaced.” Any attempt to escape or call for help was met with swift punishment.

“Why don’t you trust us?” Hanni whispered one night, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she blocked the hallway. “We only want to protect you.”

Whenever you refused to comply, they’d gang up on you. “If you’re going to be stubborn, oppa, we’ll have to keep a closer eye on you,” Liz said, leading you back to your room and locking the door behind you.

Their sweet smiles masked something darker—a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.

An Attempt

One night, you found a chance to snuck out—a window left unlocked, a moment of freedom within reach. You climbed out, your heart pounding as you sprinted into the night.

But before you could reach the gate, Karina stepped out of the shadows, a sinister grin attached to her face.

“Oppa,” she said, her voice calm yet chilling. “Did you really think you could leave us?”

Behind her, the others emerged one by one, their faces shadowed but their intentions clear.

“You’re ours,” Wonyoung whispered, stepping closer. “And we’ll never let you out of our sight, brother.”

The night after Karina and the others caught you trying to sneak out, they didn’t say a word. They didn’t yell, they didn’t cry. Instead, they simply guided you back to the house, their eerie calmness unsettling. Karina spoke softly as she locked the door behind you.

“I hope you learned your lesson, oppa. We don’t want to hurt you. But if you push us, we’ll have no choice.”

Your heart pounded as you stood there, drenched and trapped. You knew you had to tell your dad. He’d understand, right? He had to.

The next morning, you managed to get him alone in his office before he left for yet another business trip.

“Dad, I need to talk to you,” you started, your voice trembling.

He looked up from his laptop, his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong, son? You look stressed.”

“It’s about… them. My stepsisters. They’ve been acting really strange. They’re controlling everything I do—they won’t let me leave the house. Last night, they even—”

Your dad sighed, cutting you off. “I know they can be a little overbearing, but they’re just being protective. They’re girls, you know? They worry about you.”

“Dad, it’s not normal. They—”

“Listen,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’m proud of you for being mature about this. They’ve had a tough time adjusting, too. Give it time. And if it gets too much, just talk to them directly, okay? You’re all family now.”

You stared at him in disbelief, your stomach sinking. “Dad, you don’t understand—”

“I have to catch my flight,” he said, brushing past you. “We’ll talk when I get back. Be good to your sisters, alright? I love you, son.”

The door closed behind him, leaving you alone in the silence.

Your dad’s absence wasn’t unusual. His work took him overseas for months at a time, and your mom—always tied up in her own international projects—was equally distant. It left you entirely at the mercy of your stepsisters, who wasted no time tightening their grip.

“Did you tell Dad?” Hanni asked innocently later that day, sitting cross-legged on the couch with Danielle.

The way she looked at you—head tilted, smile too sweet—sent a chill down your spine.

“Of course he did,” Chaewon said from the kitchen, her voice light but laced with menace. “Not that it matters. Right, oppa?”

You clenched your fists, refusing to meet their eyes.

A New Plan

Desperation clawed at you as the days dragged on. Your phone was still missing, and every attempt to sneak out was thwarted before it even began. It was as if they always knew what you were planning.

One night, you overheard Karina and Yunjin talking in hushed voices near the stairs.

“He’s been quieter lately,” Karina said. “Good. He’s learning.”

“Still,” Yunjin replied, “we can’t let our guard down. He’s stubborn.”

You realized then that the only way to escape was to outsmart them—to make them think you’d given up.

For the next week, you played along.

You smiled when Wonyoung asked you to help her with her makeup routine, even letting her brush against your arm a little too much.

You joined Danielle and Hanni for movie nights, laughing at their jokes and pretending not to notice how they pressed themselves against you on the couch.

When Liz asked you to cook dinner with her, you obliged, biting back your frustration as she leaned over your shoulder, her hand brushing yours.

“You’re being so good lately, oppa,” Chaewon remarked one evening, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “I like it.”

You forced a laugh. “Maybe I’m finally getting used to this family thing.”

Your chance came late one night when you spotted Yunjin leaving her room, keys dangling from her hand. She’d been careless, leaving her door ajar as she went downstairs.

Heart racing, you slipped inside her room and began searching. It didn’t take long to find what you were looking for: your phone, tucked away in her nightstand.

You grabbed it, your fingers shaking as you powered it on. A flood of notifications popped up—missed calls from friends, messages from Mina, and even emails from your professors wondering why you hadn’t shown up to class.

But before you could call for help, the door creaked open behind you.

“What do you think you’re doing, oppa?” Yunjin’s voice was soft, but the anger in her eyes was unmistakable.

You froze, clutching the phone tightly. “I… I just wanted to check something.”

She stepped closer, her expression darkening. “You’re lying.”

Before you could react, the others appeared behind her, one by one, their faces shadowed but their presence overwhelming.

“Oppa,” Karina said, her tone calm but cold. “We trusted you. And this is how you repay us?”

Wonyoung shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I just wanted—”

“You don’t need anything outside of us,” Liz interrupted, her voice trembling with emotion.

Yunjin snatched the phone from your hand, tossing it to the floor. It shattered on impact, the sound echoing through the room.

“Enough,” Karina said, stepping forward. “It seems you still haven’t learned.”

A Dangerous Game

They didn’t lock you in your room this time. Instead, they kept you close, always watching, always near.

When you tried to retreat to the bathroom, Danielle stood outside the door, humming softly.

When you went to bed, Wonyoung insisted on sleeping in your room, claiming she “had nightmares.”

Everywhere you turned, one of them was there, their sweet smiles masking something darker.

“You’ll see, oppa,” Chaewon whispered one night as she tucked the blanket around you, her fingers lingering on your arm. “We’re all you’ll ever need.”

The realization hit you like a tidal wave: there was no escaping them. Not while you were under this roof.

But you weren’t giving up.

Not yet.

The days turned into weeks, and you quickly learned that resistance only made things worse. The sisters weren’t just possessive—they were meticulous, calculating every move you made as if it were a game of chess. You were the pawn, and they were the queens, slowly closing in on you.

“You don’t need anyone else,” Hanni whispered one evening, brushing a lock of hair away from your face as you sat trapped on the couch. Danielle was curled up beside you, her head resting on your shoulder.

“We’re all you’ll ever need, oppa,” Danielle added, her voice a soft melody that sent chills down your spine.

They controlled every aspect of your life now. Your meals were prepared by them, your wardrobe was chosen by them, and your free time was spent under their watchful eyes. Any attempt to rebel was met with swift punishment.

One night, you tried breaking a window to escape, but before you could climb out, Karina and Yunjin dragged you back into the house, their strength surprising.

“We warned you, oppa,” Karina said, her voice icy. “You’re ours. Why can’t you just accept that?”

Yunjin smirked, holding up the shards of broken glass. “If you’re going to act like a child, we’ll have to treat you like one.”

They locked you in your room for three days after that, only letting you out when you promised—no, begged—to behave.

Your mental state began to deteriorate. The isolation, the constant surveillance, the manipulation—it was suffocating. You found yourself second-guessing everything, wondering if maybe they were right.

“We’re just trying to protect you, oppa,” Liz said one afternoon as she caressed your hair, her touch oddly soothing. “The outside world is so dangerous. People out there… they don’t love you like we do.”

“Love?” you repeated, your voice hollow.

Wonyoung nodded, her eyes wide and earnest. “Of course we love you. More than anyone else ever could.”

It was in the way they said it—in their unwavering gazes and saccharine smiles—that made you realize just how far they were willing to go.

The Birthday Incident

Your birthday was supposed to be a moment of reprieve, a chance to reconnect with the world outside. Instead, it became the turning point—the moment you truly understood there was no escape.

They threw you a party, decorating the house with balloons and streamers. The dining table was piled high with your favorite foods, and a cake sat in the center, candles flickering.

“Make a wish, oppa!” Danielle chirped, clapping her hands.

As you closed your eyes, you thought of freedom. Of running far, far away from this nightmare.

But when you opened your eyes, the sight before you made your blood run cold.

Your phone was there, fixed and placed neatly beside the cake. For a moment, hope flared in your chest.

“You’re letting me have my phone back?” you asked cautiously.

Karina smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course. It’s your special day.”

You grabbed it, your fingers trembling as you powered it on. The screen lit up, and you quickly navigated to your messages.

Only to find them empty.

No calls, no texts, no contacts.

“What… what did you do?” you whispered, your voice breaking.

“We cleaned it up for you,” Yunjin said, leaning casually against the table. “No distractions. Just us.”

Your stomach churned as you looked at them, their smiles widening as realization dawned.

“This isn’t love,” you said, your voice trembling. “This is… this is insane.”

Wonyoung tilted her head, her expression almost pitying. “Oh, oppa. You’ll understand someday.”

From that day on, they tightened their grip even further. The locks on the doors were reinforced. The windows were barred. Every move you made was monitored, every word you spoke carefully scrutinized.

When you tried to rebel, they punished you—not with violence, but with manipulation.

“We’re only doing this because we love you,” Chaewon whispered one night as she held your hand, her grip firm. “Why can’t you see that?”

And when you begged for your freedom, they only smiled.

“You don’t need freedom,” Karina said, her voice soft but unyielding. “You have us.”

The Final Descent

One stormy evening, as thunder rumbled in the distance, you sat in the living room, surrounded by them. They were laughing, talking, acting like everything was normal. But you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’ve ruined my life,” you said suddenly, your voice cutting through the laughter.

The room fell silent.

“Oppa,” Hanni said softly, her eyes wide. “Why would you say that?”

“You’ve trapped me here,” you continued, your voice rising. “This isn’t a family. This is a prison.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Karina stood, her expression unreadable as she walked over to you.

“Oppa,” she said, crouching down so she was at eye level. “You need to understand something.”

Her hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“You belong to us. And we’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Whatever it takes.”

The others nodded in unison, their gazes unwavering.

And in that moment, as the storm raged outside and their words echoed in your ears, you realized the truth.

There was no escape…for now..

The storm outside grew more violent, the howling winds rattling the barred windows. As the sisters began retreating to their rooms for the night, you felt the familiar weight of hopelessness settle in your chest. But tonight, something was different. As you stared out the window, lightning briefly illuminated the outside—the gate was ajar. Maybe one of them had forgotten to lock it after bringing in groceries earlier. It was a slim chance, but it was a chance nonetheless.

You waited until the house fell silent, the sisters presumably asleep. Silently, you slipped on your sneakers, heart pounding as you made your way down the creaking staircase. Every sound felt deafening in the stillness, but you couldn’t stop now.

When you reached the door, you froze. The key was still in the lock. A miracle. With shaking hands, you turned it slowly, praying they wouldn’t hear the faint click as the lock disengaged. The moment it did, you pushed the door open and bolted into the storm.

The rain was cold, soaking you instantly as you sprinted down the driveway and toward the open gate. Freedom was within reach. The pounding of your heart drowned out the thunder as you crossed the threshold, stepping into the empty street beyond.

But then, headlights.

You turned just in time to see a car barreling toward you, the driver unable to stop in the rain-slicked road. The impact was sudden and brutal, sending you sprawling onto the pavement. Pain exploded through your body as darkness consumed you.

Waking in a Nightmare

When you finally came to, the bright lights of the hospital room burned your eyes. The beeping of monitors echoed faintly in your ears, and your body felt heavy, restrained by the weight of painkillers and bandages.

“You’re awake,” a soft voice said, and you turned your head to see a nurse standing by your bedside. She smiled kindly, adjusting the IV line in your arm. “You’re lucky. The accident could’ve been much worse.”

For a moment, relief washed over you. You’d escaped. You’d finally gotten away.

“Where am I?” you croaked, your throat dry.

“The city hospital,” the nurse replied. “You’ve been here for a few days. Don’t worry, we’ve been taking good care of you.”

You tried to sit up, but the pain in your ribs forced you back down. “My parents… Did you call them?”

The nurse hesitated, glancing at the clipboard in her hands. “We tried contacting your parents, but they’re both out of the country and couldn’t be reached. So, we contacted the next closest people to you.”

Your blood turned to ice.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please tell me you didn’t—”

Before you could finish, the door to your room creaked open. One by one, they walked in—Karina, Wonyoung, Hanni, Chaewon, Yunjin, Danielle, Liz. Their perfect faces were painted with expressions of concern, but there was something sinister lurking beneath their sweet smiles.

“Oppa!” Wonyoung cried, rushing to your bedside. “We were so worried about you!”

“You should’ve told us you were leaving,” Karina said, her tone soft yet reproachful. “We could’ve kept you safe.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Yunjin added, her hand resting lightly on your shoulder.

You stared at them in disbelief, your heart hammering in your chest. “How… How did you find me?”

“We’re family, oppa,” Chaewon said, sitting on the edge of your bed. “We always know where to find you.”

Danielle leaned over, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You scared us, you know. But it’s okay. You’re safe now. And we’re not letting you out of our sight again.”

You looked toward the nurse, desperate for help, but she only smiled. “Your sisters have been here every day, taking care of you. You’re lucky to have such a loving family.”

“No,” you whispered, panic rising. “They’re not my family. They’re—”

Hanni shushed you gently, pressing a finger to your lips. “Shh, oppa. Don’t upset yourself. You need to rest.”

The nurse nodded. “She’s right. You need to focus on recovering. Your sisters will make sure you have everything you need.”

You wanted to scream, to beg the nurse to call the police, but your body betrayed you, too weak to fight back. The sisters crowded closer, their presence suffocating.

Karina leaned in, her hand brushing against yours. “Don’t worry, oppa. We’ll take you home soon. Everything will be just like it was before.”

“No,” you rasped, tears streaming down your face. “Please. Let me go.”

But their smiles only widened.

“You’re ours,” Wonyoung whispered, her voice dripping with possessiveness. “Forever.”

The days that followed were a blur of enforced care. The sisters rarely left your side, taking turns watching over you. Karina handled the paperwork for your discharge, ensuring you’d return home as soon as possible. Hanni and Yunjin fed you, their hands lingering a little too long as they helped you eat. Wonyoung fluffed your pillows, her touch oddly tender, while Danielle played soft music to “help you relax.”

You quickly realized there was no escape. Not here, not in the hospital, and certainly not once they took you back to the house. The accident had sealed your fate, tethering you to them in a way that felt unbreakable.

As they wheeled you out of the hospital on the day of your discharge, you saw the car waiting for you—sleek, black, and ominous. Karina held the door open, her smile as sweet as poison.

“Welcome home, oppa,” she said softly.

The ride home from the hospital felt suffocating. The rain poured down in sheets, blurring the windows of the van Karina had insisted they use to bring you back. You were silent, your leg still throbbing in its cast, while the others chatted in low voices, as if you weren’t even there.

“Don’t worry, oppa,” Wonyoung chirped from the front seat, turning her head to give you a sweet but unsettling smile. “We’ve made some changes to the house. You’ll love it.”

Your stomach twisted at her words. You had been too weak to resist when they insisted on signing you out of the hospital and taking you home. The nurse’s words still rang in your ears:

“They’re your family now, and they seemed so concerned about you. You’re lucky to have them.”

Lucky. You swallowed hard, your mouth dry, as the van pulled into the driveway. The house loomed in the darkness, its windows casting faint, flickering light like the eyes of a predator waiting for its prey.

The moment the van stopped, Chaewon and Danielle were by your side, unbuckling your seatbelt and helping you into the wheelchair. Their hands were gentle, almost too careful, but you could feel the iron grip of their control in every movement.

“Careful, oppa,” Danielle murmured, tucking a blanket around your lap. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself again.”

The door to the house opened, and Yunjin stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim glow of the lights inside. “Welcome home,” she said softly, her voice carrying an edge of finality.

As they wheeled you inside, your breath caught in your throat. The house you remembered was gone. The cozy warmth and modern elegance had been replaced by something much darker. The walls were painted a muted gray, the windows draped with heavy blackout curtains that allowed no glimpse of the outside world.

But it was the dining room that sent a chill down your spine.

The large dining table had been modified—no, transformed. Each chair was outfitted with thick leather straps on the armrests and legs, as well as a wide belt across the backrest. The table itself had been cleared of its usual decorations, leaving only an eerie emptiness that seemed to magnify the oppressive atmosphere.

“What is this?” you croaked, your voice barely audible.

“It’s for your own safety, oppa,” Karina said, stepping in front of you. Her expression was calm, almost soothing, but her eyes betrayed something far more chilling.

“You’re so clumsy,” Wonyoung added with a giggle, her hand brushing against your shoulder as she leaned closer. “We can’t risk you running off and getting hurt again.”

They wheeled you to one of the chairs, and Chaewon knelt beside you, her fingers brushing your cast as she smiled. “See? This way, you’ll always be safe. Always with us.”

Your body tensed as Liz and Hanni began strapping you in, their movements precise and practiced. You tried to resist, but your weakened state made it impossible to fight them off. The straps were snug but not painful, their tightness a cruel reminder of how little freedom you had left.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “You don’t have to do this.”

“We do, oppa,” Yunjin said from behind you, her tone soft but unyielding. “You don’t understand yet, but you will. We’re all you need.”

Bound Forever

As the final strap was secured, Karina crouched down in front of you, her hands resting lightly on your knees. “This is your home now. There’s nothing out there for you—nothing but pain and loneliness. But here… here you’re loved. Here you’re safe.”

Tears burned in your eyes as the reality of your situation sank in. There would be no more escape attempts, no more fleeting moments of hope. The house had become your prison, and your step sisters were its wardens.

“We’ll take care of you, oppa,” Wonyoung said, her voice almost a whisper as she kissed your cheek.

“Forever,” Chaewon added, her fingers brushing against your hair.

As they stood around you, their smiles unwavering and their eyes filled with an unsettling devotion, you realized the horrifying truth: you weren’t just bound to them by straps or walls. You were bound by their obsession, and there was no escaping it.

Not now. Not ever.

[minnswon]

❏ ➯ (❛◡˂ ⟡) ❥ ❘❙❚ ❜ strawberry ⸝ house

[safirasz]

𝒟eli𝘤𝘢te 𝗉rincess ୨୧ ⋆｡˚

ℳy 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅ㅤ⊹ 𖹭  𝅼     ׁ  

[kisrui]

Moonlight reflects off

the front of my bed

[faebled-stories]

Behind The Wall

Kinkvember Day 8: Glory Hole

Le Sserafim Huh Yunjin

6.5k words

Yunjin sank into the deep, velvet embrace of her couch, the cushions softening her exhausted frame as she let out a long, weary sigh. The echoes of the day's cacophony—cheering fans, thumping music, and sharp camera clicks—still pulsed faintly in her ears.

The life of an idol was dazzling but relentless; every hour meticulously scheduled, every move choreographed to perfection. The glitter of stage lights, interviews under glaring lamps, and the constant churn of photo shoots were exhilarating but exacted a toll. It was as if her very soul teetered on a tightrope, balancing the shimmering allure of fame against the shadow of burnout.

Through the vast floor-to-ceiling window, the city’s neon lights painted strokes of pink, blue, and gold across her apartment walls. Seoul’s night buzzed with energy; cars zipped by, people chattered and laughed, their figures flitting like restless fireflies. The symphony of life outside mocked her solitude, reminding her of the world that saw her only as an untouchable idol, never as Yunjin, the young woman who craved the freedom to simply be.

A heavy sigh escaped her as she swept her gaze over the cluttered coffee table, its surface strewn with fan mail written in colorful inks, glossy pamphlets of upcoming events, and stacks of formal letters from the agency. Her slender fingers traced absent patterns over the scattered papers, seeking something familiar in the chaos. But then, her touch stopped on an envelope that was different. It was plain, with none of the bright markings or logos she’d expected—no sender's name, no return address, just an unassuming square of paper.

The whisper of the paper crinkling as she opened it seemed magnified in the stillness. The note inside was concise, starkly so, and as her eyes scanned the words, a shiver danced along her spine:

"Looking to escape the ordinary? We offer complete anonymity. No names, no faces—just pure freedom. For those seeking a way out, come explore a world where nothing else matters."

A URL was printed below in small, unembellished text, as though any flourish might disrupt the message’s secrecy. Yunjin flipped the paper over, searching for more—an explanation, a clue to its sender—but found nothing. The edges of the note bit into her palm as her mind wrestled with intrigue and apprehension.

Her heart thudded as she glanced around her penthouse, its luxury and perfection suddenly feeling like a gilded cage. The idea of complete anonymity was as tantalizing as it was foreign. A place where her name, face, and reputation held no sway, where the burden of fame could be shed like a second skin—was such a thing even possible?

The glow of her phone lit her face as she typed the URL. The screen flickered to life, revealing a minimalist site with no distractions, no images, just a few lines of cryptic text. It spoke of an exclusive venue, a secret haven where identities dissolved, and people interacted without pasts or future judgments. A chill coursed down her arms as she read it again, each word stoking the embers of a rebellious thought that crackled within her.

She pressed her lips together, the decision forming like storm clouds in her mind. Her usual caution warred with a desperate hunger for escape. For once, she wouldn’t run it by her manager or think about potential repercussions. She would be just Yunjin, unknown and unseen.

Shaking fingers rummaged through her closet, pushing past glamorous gowns and performance outfits until she found a pair of dark jeans and a plain black hoodie. She slipped them on, the soft fabric foreign in its ordinariness. Her reflection in the mirror was almost startling—gone were the shimmering eyeshadow, sculpted features, and immaculate hair. Instead, a girl with wide, determined eyes looked back. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and donned a baseball cap, tucking wayward strands beneath it. Oversized sunglasses completed the disguise, shadowing her face despite the evening hour.

A small crossbody bag held her essentials, including the mysterious envelope and her phone, which she silenced before sliding it in. The muffled tick of the clock punctuated her hesitation, but the thrum in her chest urged her forward. The night was cool when she stepped out, the city’s breath washing over her as if daring her to blend into the current of people and lights.

Flagging down a cab felt like a small act of rebellion, its ordinary nature grounding her as the car hummed to life and pulled away from the curb. The rhythmic roll of the tires lulled her into contemplation. Streetlights cast fleeting halos on her window, the cityscape warping and softening in the glass’s reflection. She watched as neon signs, bustling restaurants, and late-night strollers gave way to quieter streets lined with shuttered shops and shadowed alleyways.

When the cab stopped in front of an unremarkable building, her pulse quickened. It stood under a flickering street lamp, modest and nondescript, its façade promising nothing yet holding everything she yearned for.

Yunjin paid the driver and stepped onto the cracked pavement, the city's hum receding to a low murmur. A sudden breeze lifted the edge of her hood as she pulled it lower, shielding herself from the scant light. The air tasted electric, anticipation sharp on her tongue.

This was it—a chance to disappear, to step into the unknown. The final glance over her shoulder was reflexive, a look at the life she was about to abandon, if only for a fleeting moment. With a deep breath, Yunjin pushed open the heavy door and let the shadows swallow her whole, a small smile curving her lips as the echo of her world fell away.

At the front desk, a woman with a soft, welcoming smile looked up, her glasses perched delicately on the tip of her nose, glinting under the warm glow of the overhead light. She exuded an air of quiet confidence, her poised demeanor a result of years of greeting visitors who approached with curiosity, nerves, or both.

“Good evening,” she said, her voice calm, warm, and practiced, like the embrace of a familiar song. The subtle scent of jasmine lingered in the air, a comforting contrast to the thundering beat of Yunjin’s heart. Sensing her demeanor the lady continued “First time?”

Yunjin gulped, the lump in her throat making her voice feel small and fragile. “Yes,” she replied, her tone soft and almost wavering, as if any louder would betray the torrent of emotions coursing through her.

The woman’s eyes, sharp yet kind, softened with a knowing glimmer as she slid a clipboard toward Yunjin across the polished, dark wood of the counter. The faint slide of paper against wood felt louder than it was, reverberating in Yunjin’s heightened state. “No worries, it’s all straightforward here. Just sign this waiver, and let me explain the options.” The receptionist’s tone was even, her words crafted to soothe. The clipboard itself seemed ordinary but held a gravity Yunjin wasn’t prepared for—a silent gateway between the ordinary and the unknown.

Yunjin's eyes dropped to the clipboard, the neatly printed text blurring slightly as her thoughts raced. The room felt warm, her breath shallow as she fought to calm herself. The woman’s voice interrupted her reverie, a steady anchor to the moment. “You can choose to give pleasure or receive it—whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

Yunjin’s pulse quickened, the choice startling in its simplicity yet weighted with implications. The muffled hum of distant music reached her ears, blending with the low thrum of blood rushing through her veins. She hadn’t anticipated the tension, the sudden clarity required for this decision.

“Um…” The hesitation hung between them, a breath caught in time. Yunjin’s gaze flickered from the clipboard to the woman’s reassuring eyes, and before she could rethink it, the words fell from her lips. “I’ll… give first.”

A smile curved the receptionist’s lips, gentle and knowing. She collected the clipboard once Yunjin had signed her name, fingers brushing lightly over the polished wood. “Great,” she said with a finality that both steadied and excited Yunjin. “Once you’re ready, head to the back, and follow the instructions inside. Take your time.” The words resonated like a promise, rich with unspoken possibilities.

Yunjin's feet felt both light and weighted as she moved through the hallway, each step echoing softly against the wooden floorboards. The corridor was lined with antique sconces that cast warm, flickering light, their glow reminiscent of gas lamps from another era. The scent of aged wood and varnish wrapped around her, steeped in a history of whispered secrets and uncharted desires.

The booth she entered was compact, almost intimate, its wooden frame dark with age and rich with a subtle scent of cedar. Faint scratches marred the surface, stories untold but felt through the marks of time. Yunjin adjusted herself on the worn seat, the old wood creaking beneath her slight movements. The small space was a capsule of warmth and nervous energy, making the moment feel both surreal and thrilling.

A deep breath filled her lungs as she closed her eyes, trying to slow the pounding of her heart. The booth's walls seemed to close in protectively, muting the world outside and intensifying her awareness of herself. The anticipation coiled within her, electric and alive, as she opened herself up to whatever came next, ready to step across the invisible threshold and into the unknown.

Suddenly, a slight movement near her face broke her concentration. Her gaze shifted and there it was—a small, round hole in the partition between booths, a portal to the unknown. Through it, the tip of a penis slowly emerged, its presence both startling and enticing. The anonymity of the situation only added to the allure, as Yunjin found herself face to face with the mystery of a man she could neither see nor touch, save for this intimate connection.

The member that presented itself through the partition was of a decent size, neither intimidating nor meek. It commanded Yunjin's attention, a silent invitation to a dance of lust and longing. With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take her time, to explore and savor the experience. She was an artist, and this was her canvas.

As she leaned in, the warmth of her lips met the head of the cock with a gentle, yet commanding touch. Her technique was impeccable, a result of years of honing her craft. A low groan from the other side of the partition confirmed her skill, and a surge of empowerment washed over her. She was in control, a maestro conducting an orchestra of desire.

With each slide of her mouth, her tongue traced the sensitive underside of his member, eliciting a symphony of responses from the stranger. His breathing grew heavier, punctuating the air with anticipation. The twitching of his member within her mouth was a silent testament to her mastery, a sign that she was navigating the dance of desire with expert precision.

Yunjin's own moans began to mingle with the stranger's labored breaths, a chorus that filled the small, private space. She couldn't deny the pleasure she found in this unconventional tryst. There was a unique thrill in the anonymity, a liberation in the act of pleasuring someone whose face she would never know. It was a connection that transcended the physical, rooted in the raw and real exchange of passion.

The pace of her actions increased, her head bobbing with growing urgency, the wet sounds of her endeavors a testament to the fervor of the moment. She could sense the stranger's tension mounting, his breathing becoming shallow and ragged as he approached the precipice of release.

As the tension escalated, Yunjin sensed the subtle changes in the man's breathing—a mix of shallow, quick breaths escalating into a desperate, primal rhythm. The air grew thick with anticipation, and her heart pounded in sync with his. The cock in her mouth, already swollen with arousal, seemed to pulse with an electric charge, signaling the inevitable. His body tensed, muscles rigid as his climax built to an unstoppable crescendo. With just a whisper of warning, the stranger's control slipped away. A guttural, low growl vibrated through his chest, primal and raw, echoing in the confined space around them. Then, the release. It came like a warm, forceful flood, his hot, salty essence filling Yunjin's mouth with a sudden rush. She felt the throbbing intensify, each pulse delivering more of his essence, hot and thick against her tongue. Yunjin, caught in the wave of his ecstasy, swallowed eagerly, the flavors mixing in her mouth—salty, slightly bitter, yet uniquely intimate. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation, her own arousal amplifying as she savored the taste, the heat, the sheer intimacy of the act. As he reached his peak, she could feel the tension in his body slowly ebbing away, the throbbing now a slower, gentler rhythm. The cock in her mouth began to soften, no longer the rigid rod of before, but yielding, becoming more pliable. Yunjin held him there, her lips and tongue still caressing, prolonging the connection. The afterglow of his climax lingered on her taste buds as she gently released him with a soft wet pop, her lips tracing a soft path along the now relaxed shaft, leaving a trail of warmth. The moment, intense and fleeting, left them both in a haze of satisfaction, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

A murmured thanks floated through the hole, a small acknowledgment of the intense connection they had shared, however fleeting. Yunjin took a moment to catch her breath, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the encounter.

Despite the fleeting nature of their interaction, Yunjin felt a profound bond with the faceless man on the other side of the wall. It was a bond forged by mutual pleasure and vulnerability, a memory that would linger long after the carnival lights had dimmed.

Just as she began to compose herself, another surprise awaited her. From a different opening in the partition, a second shaft appeared—this one significantly larger and more imposing. Yunjin's breath hitched in her throat as she eyed the newcomer with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. The first encounter had been a warm-up, but this? This was a challenge.

She hesitated, pondering if she could accommodate such a size, but the thrill of the challenge won out. With a cautious but determined glance, she edged closer to the second hole. Yunjin was ready to take the ride.

As she steeled herself, Yunjin's gaze was locked on the formidable appendage that stood before her. It was a symbol of virility and power, and she was determined to conquer it. With a deep breath, she leaned forward, her heart pounding like a drumline in her chest. The moment of contact was electric; her soft lips met the massive head of the cock, and a surge of warmth and intensity coursed through her. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation as she focused all her strength and concentration on the task ahead.

The journey had begun, and Yunjin was committed to seeing it through. She slid her lips down the lengthy shaft, each inch a testament to her determination. The cock throbbed and pulsed in her mouth, a living embodiment of the challenge she had accepted. It was a tight fit, pushing the limits of her oral cavity, and she could feel her throat constricting as she valiantly attempted to accommodate more of the imposing member.

Gagging and sputtering were inevitable, but Yunjin's will was made of sterner stuff. She refused to yield, pushing herself further, taking in more and more until she felt the cock hit the back of her throat. The sensation was overwhelming, but she welcomed it, pausing only to adjust before resuming her rhythmic motion. Her head bobbed back and forth, the cock sliding in and out of her mouth with practiced ease, a dance of passion and perseverance.

The thrill of the challenge was intoxicating. Yunjin's pulse raced with excitement as she deepthroats the massive cock, each thrust a declaration of her own capabilities. She was acutely aware of the wet patch growing on her panties, a visible sign of her arousal, as she moaned softly, the sound muffled by the object of her conquest. She was lost in the moment, her world narrowed to the feeling of being completely filled, completely consumed by the task at hand.

Her determination was not in vain. The man's body tensed, his breaths became labored gasps, and Yunjin knew she had driven him to the brink. The moment of truth arrived as his dick twitched and pulsed in her mouth, releasing a torrent of cum. She swallowed quickly, striving to keep up with the force of his ejaculation, but the sheer volume was overwhelming. Cum splashed against the back of her throat, overflowed, and covered her chin, dripping down her chest in a testament to her efforts.

Yunjin, a woman of remarkable poise and sensuality, found herself in a scenario that would have left many reeling. She had just concluded an intense session with two well-endowed partners, each man bringing his own brand of fervor and demanding her full attention and physicality. The encounter had been a marathon of pleasure and exertion, pushing Yunjin to the brink of her sexual prowess. Yet, as the second man withdrew, spent and satisfied, Yunjin was faced with an unanticipated third act.

Through the other hole stood another man, his desire evident and his anticipation palpable. His penis, while not as imposing as the ones that had preceded it, still presented a challenge. Yunjin, ever the consummate lover, was not one to back down from a challenge. She understood that satisfaction comes in many sizes and that her journey was far from over.

With a deep breath to center herself, Yunjin leaned in, her eyes locked onto his member as she took the whole cock easily into her mouth. The warmth of his flesh against her lips was a familiar sensation, yet it brought with it a new set of expectations. She was determined to lavish upon this man the same meticulous attention that she had given to the others, to bring him to the heights of pleasure despite the lingering sensation of fullness that still resonated within her from her previous encounters.

As she worked her magic, the man's response was immediate and visceral. He quickly reached his climax, and Yunjin braced herself for what was to come. To her astonishment, his orgasm was voluminous, exceeding even the generous offerings of the two men before him, combined. The warm, thick salty liquid hit the back of her throat with a force that caused her gag reflex to activate, the excess spilling out of her mouth and trickling down her chin.

The sensation was overwhelming, and Yunjin made a swift decision. She couldn’t take any more inside of her; she had reached her limit. Instead, she guided the man to finish all over her face. With her eyes closed and her head tilted back, she surrendered to the sensory overload. The cum splattered in waves across her face, marking her porcelain skin and staining her crimson hair with ropes of his essence. It dripped down her neck, leaving trails that soaked into her LE SSERAFIM top, a badge of honor from her latest conquest..

The absurdity of the situation was not lost on Yunjin. Here she was, a woman who had always prided herself on her control and composure, covered in the evidence of her sexual escapades. Yet, far from feeling debased, she felt empowered. The sensation was strange, yet not unpleasant, and in the midst of the chaos, she found a moment of quiet appreciation for the extremes to which her body and mind could be pushed.

As the man caught his breath and pulled away, Yunjin opened her eyes. A smile played across her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the journey she had just completed. She had not only endured but had triumphed, satisfying yet another partner with grace and determination. The experience had been intense, physically challenging, and emotionally exhausting, but it had also been exhilarating.

Yunjin stood, her body glistening with the remnants of her encounters, and made her way to the mirror. She gazed at her reflection, at the cum-covered visage that stared back at her, and she felt a surge of pride. She had pushed herself beyond her limits, and had proven to herself that she was capable of anything. In that moment, Yunjin embraced her strength, her resilience, and the sheer power of her sexuality.

She took a moment to catch her breath. She felt a weight lifted off her shoulders, and a sense of calm washed over her. But she was not ready to stop just yet. Quickly using the provided wipes, she cleaned herself slightly before she gathered up her remaining energy and boldly decided to continue.

Yunjin's heart danced to the staccato rhythm of her racing pulse as she navigated the dimly lit corridors of the building, her every step echoing the potent cocktail of excitement and trepidation coursing through her veins. She arrived at her destination, a secluded alcove whispered about in the hushed tones of the initiated, where the boundaries of the self are willingly blurred.

With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Yunjin began the ritual of undressing, each piece of clothing falling away to reveal the canvas of her unadorned skin. The cool air of the room kissed her bare flesh, sending a shiver down her spine, a tangible reminder of her exposed state. It was in this moment of nakedness, both literal and metaphorical, that Yunjin felt truly alive, her senses heightened to the symphony of whispers, rustling fabric, and the faint scent of desire that permeated the air.

Carefully, she positioned herself, ensuring comfort and security, but also the deliberate display of her most intimate self. The hole before her served as a portal to a world of anonymous connections, her bare pussy an offering to the unknown. As she closed her eyes, Yunjin surrendered to the vulnerability of her situation, a willing participant in the dance of the flesh.

The sounds from the adjacent room grew in intensity, a cacophony of deep moans and heavy breathing that spoke of the primal acts unfolding mere inches away. It was not long before the first of her anonymous suitors approached, his fingers tracing the contours of her exposed lower body with a reverence that belied the raw encounter to come.

He wastes no time in claiming what he sought, gripping Yunjin's hips with an urgency that communicated his need. She felt the heat of his body, the insistent press of his cock against her, seeking entry into the slick warmth of her tight cunt. As he entered her, Yunjin braced herself against the intrusion, the sensation of being filled overwhelming her senses.

The man's thrusts were fast and deep, driven by the intoxicating tightness that enveloped him. Yunjin's moans melded with the symphony of sounds that filled the room, her body responding to the relentless rhythm. Having spent the earlier part of the night pleasuring a succession of faceless men, now it was her turn to bask in the waves of pleasure that threatened to engulf her.

Yunjin's body trembled uncontrollably as wave after wave of intense pleasure coursed through her veins. She could feel every inch of the man behind the wall. His thrusts were relentless, almost brutal in their intensity, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to his touch.

She could hear the man's grunts and groans growing louder with each thrust, his hips slamming into her with a primal urgency that made her heart race. It was clear that he was chasing his own high, focused solely on the intense sensations coursing through his body.

Yunjin tried to match his rhythm, meeting each thrust with one of her own, but she was quickly overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her. She could feel her orgasm building deep within her, the tension coiling in her belly as she gasped for breath.

Yunjin, in that moment, was just another warm, wet body used solely for pleasure. An extension of the overwhelming stimulation that threatened to swallow her whole. The scent of sex was thick in the air of the crowded room, mixing with the heady aroma of cologne and the musk of aroused bodies.

All around them, others writhed and cried out in ecstasy. Moans and screams filled the air, punctuated by the wet slap of flesh on flesh. It was a debauched scene straight out of Yunjin's wildest fantasies. And yet, even as her body climbed higher and higher towards the peak, her mind felt strangely detached. It was as if she was watching the whole thing unfold from outside herself.

The man's thrusts grew more erratic, his rhythm faltering as he neared his own end. Yunjin could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core, her nails digging into the supple leather beneath her as she teetered on the very edge of oblivion.

With a final, powerful thrust, Yunjin's body tensed as she felt her world shatter into a thousand pieces. Her orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave, a rush of intense pleasure coursing through her veins and leaving her breathless. She threw her head back and cried out, the sound echoing through the room as she reveled in the indescribable sensation.

The man, still buried deep inside of her, let out a low groan as he felt her climax. He could feel her muscles contracting around him, pulling him deeper as she rode out the waves of pleasure. With a few more thrusts, he followed suit, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her. The warmth of his seed filled her to the brim, a delicious sensation that only served to prolong her own orgasm.

"Ohhh yes!" Yunjin cried out, her voice filled with pure ecstasy. The intensity of the moment was etched into her memory, a moment of pure bliss that she would never forget. 

As the first man finished his climax, he pulled out, leaving Yunjin's hungry hole exposed and glistening with a mixture of sweat and the evidence of his pleasure. But there was no time for respite in this den of hedonism. No sooner had he withdrawn than another figure loomed, his member rigid and ready. Without hesitation, he plunged into her cum-slicked opening, claiming her for his own.

He started pumping with an urgency that matched the rhythm of her own racing heart. The wet sounds of their union resonated throughout the room, a testament to the slick, fervent fucking that was underway. Yunjin's body responded instinctively, her hips rocking back to meet his every thrust, her fingers clawing at the edges of the bench that supported her.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she panted, her voice a symphony of lust and longing. She was a vision of abandon, her body undulating with each powerful drive of his cock. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back in ecstasy, as she rode the wave of another impending climax.

The man showed no signs of slowing down, his own desires stoking the fire within Yunjin's core. She could feel the essence of her previous partner being churned inside her, the concoction adding to the intensity of the experience. "Mmmm it's so messy!" Yunjin gasped, the sensation of fluids squelching with each thrust only heightening her arousal.

He used the slickness to his advantage, fucking her with wild abandon, his hips a blur as he hammered in and out of her willing body. The room was filled with the sounds of their coupling—the slap of skin, the wet suction of her sex, and the growing crescendo of Yunjin's moans.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Yunjin wailed, her voice cracking with the intensity of her impending orgasm. Her pussy clenched around him, the sensitive walls of her sex gripping him tightly as she reached the precipice of pleasure. Her whole body shook, racked by the force of her climax, a climax that seemed to tear through her like a storm surge, leaving her spent and trembling in its wake.

As her orgasm subsided, the man continued to thrust, drawing out every last shiver of pleasure from Yunjin's satiated form. Finally, with a guttural growl, he too found his release, adding to the cum-slicked mess that Yunjin had become.

Exhausted but thoroughly sated, Yunjin collapsed onto the bench, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She was a writhing, moaning mess, her body marked by the intensity of her encounters. Yet, even as she lay there, the knowledge that this was but a moment in her endless pursuit of pleasure brought a knowing smile to her lips.

In the dimly lit confines of an intimate chamber, Yunjin found herself amidst a symphony of desire, a realm where pleasure was the only currency. After a series of passionate trysts, she braced herself for the final act of her evening, a performance that promised to be as memorable as it was intense.

As her body, still quivering from the reverberations of her last climax, began to settle, Yunjin sensed the approach of another. She was acutely aware that this would be her final partner for the night, and there was something decidedly different about him. The anticipation of his touch rekindled the warmth and pulsating sensitivity of her pussy, remnants of her recent orgasmic journey.

The man's presence was commanding yet tender as he teased her entrance, his warmth radiating against her sensitive flesh. She recognized him by his formidable size—the same man she had pleasured orally earlier. His endowment, both exciting and intimidating, had left a lasting impression, and the recognition only stoked the fires of her arousal.

As he began to enter her, Yunjin braced herself for the sensation of being filled beyond what she had ever known. His size was not just impressive; it bordered on the edge of her comfort zone, yet she found herself craving more. With each deliberate inch that slid inside, her body stretched to accommodate his girth, yielding to his impressive member with a mix of trepidation and eagerness.

The intensity of fullness was almost too much to bear, but it was swiftly replaced by waves of pleasure that accompanied each of his thrusts. Her body was being pushed to its limits, but in the most exhilarating way imaginable. She could feel every ridge, every vein of his shaft, creating a friction that sent shivers of delight coursing through her.

Instinct took over, and Yunjin began to match his rhythm, eager to feel him reach the deepest parts of her. The man responded in kind, increasing the force of his thrusts, making her gasp with each powerful drive. The room echoed with the raw, primal sound of their bodies uniting, a testament to the pleasure they were creating together.

Yunjin's heart raced, each beat a drumbeat echoing in her ears as she scaled the heights of her pleasure. Her legs trembled with the exertion, her muscles coiling tighter with each passing second. The air around them seemed to crackle with electricity, a palpable tension that begged for release.

"I'm so close," she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper, laced with the raw edge of desperation.

He responded with a powerful surge, his body moving with an intensity that matched her own fervor. Their rhythm was frenzied, a dance of two souls seeking unity in the most primal way.

"Please," she begged, her pride forgotten in the face of the overwhelming need that consumed her.

His answer was a focused, deliberate motion, a targeted strike against her inner walls that made stars explode behind her closed eyelids. Yunjin's world shattered as she reached the pinnacle of her climax. Her voice broke the stillness, a cry of pure, unadulterated bliss that filled the room.

"FUCK… you’re so big!" she exclaimed, her body arching into his, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

Her inner muscles pulsed around him, a rhythmic clenching that milked his own release. He threw his head back, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as he let out a deep, resonant groan. Yunjin felt the heat of his climax as he spilled into her, the sensation drawing out her own pleasure until she was utterly spent.

For a moment, they existed in a perfect state of satiation, their bodies still intimately connected. Yunjin's breaths slowly evened out, her heartbeat gradually returning to normal. She lay there, boneless and content, a soft smile playing on her lips as the aftershocks of their union rippled through her.

As the intensity of the moment subsided, Yunjin savored the feeling of completeness. The warmth of his release spread through her, a sensation that was both comforting and deeply satisfying. Her body, now spent and limp, was a testament to the pleasure he had wrought.

In the afterglow of their erotic encounter, she lay back on the leather that clung to her skin, her body a canvas of pleasure and fatigue. Her breaths came in slow, deep waves, each one a testament to the intensity of the experience they had just shared. She was in a state of blissful exhaustion, every muscle in her body seemingly liquefied in the wake of her climax.

The mystery stud, still poised behind the wall, looked at her quivering folds, his gaze held a mixture of pride and satisfaction. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye he leaned in for one final, electrifying farewell.

His hand came down on her sex with a sure, resounding slap that echoed through the room, its sharpness jolting her senses. The stinging sensation arched her back, drawing a surprised moan from her lips as the sound lingered—a provocative reminder of their raw, unrestrained passion.

Before she could fully process the shock, his mouth descended with a searing kiss to her throbbing clit, warm and intent. The heat enveloped her, sending a fresh wave of pleasure rippling through her. His tongue moved deftly, coaxing her sensitive flesh to life with skilled flicks and gentle pulls, each movement reigniting her body’s desire.

A gasp escaped her as she shivered, goosebumps rising over her skin. Still sensitive from her previous release, she felt her body surge with renewed intensity. Her every nerve responded to him, the initial sting of his touch melting into the tender warmth of his kiss, the sensations mingling in a dizzying contrast that left her breathless. She was caught in the duality of it—the lingering sting meeting the sweetness of his lips—a perfect balance between the need to retreat from the intensity and the desire to lose herself in it entirely.

With a final, lingering kiss, he pulled back, leaving her body trembling and her chest rising with deep, satiated breaths. Covered in a light sheen of sweat, she had long since lost count of her climaxes, each one more powerful than the last. As she lay there, immersed in the warmth of their connection, she knew that this night would remain etched in her memory—a moment where passion, intensity, and an unspoken bond came together in something that transcended the physical.

She rose slowly from the plush cushions her legs trembling slightly from the exertions of the evening. Standing in the dimly lit room that had been her sanctuary, she caught her reflection in the nearby mirror. Her gaze drifted over her own form—a canvas marked by the unmistakable signs of release. Her skin was damp, glistening with the mingled residue of sweat and pleasure, each trace a testament to the intensity of the night.

She felt wonderfully full, her body carrying the subtle reminders of her encounters, tokens of the night that would stay with her as she stepped back into the world.

Yunjin moved to the bathroom, her steps careful, almost reverent. Warm water streamed over her, washing away the physical remnants of her indulgence, swirling down the drain in a quiet cleanse. Yet even as the evidence vanished, she knew that the essence of the night would remain—a secret, a sense of renewal that she would carry back into her public persona.

Dressed once again in her street clothes—a chic outfit that belied the wildness of her evening—Yunjin gathered her belongings: a sleek purse, comfy sneakers, and a renewed sense of self. She paused at the mirror, captivated by her own reflection. The woman staring back was radiant, her eyes alight with a new fire, a private victory that fame alone could never quite evoke. It was a glow that belonged to her alone.

At the front desk, Yunjin was met with the same quiet discretion as when she’d first arrived. The hostess, ever the silent guardian of this hidden world, handed her a sleek business card—a subtle invitation to return. Yunjin responded with a slight smile, a silent promise to herself that she would indeed revisit this sanctuary of indulgence.

Just as she turned to leave, a familiar voice rang out behind her.

“Hi, Ms. Jeon. Welcome back!”

Yunjin froze, her heart skipping as she spun around to see none other than her friend, Jeon Somi, standing just a few feet away. Somi’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and she cocked her head, taking in Yunjin’s slightly disheveled appearance. Blood rushed to Yunjin’s cheeks, embarrassment rising fast—of all people, she hadn’t expected to see Somi here.

“S-Somi?” she stammered, caught off guard. “What… what are you doing here?”

Somi chuckled, enjoying Yunjin’s flustered reaction. She took a step closer, her gaze warm but curious. “I didn’t know you knew about this place.”

Yunjin shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. “Yeah, well…” She trailed off, unable to find the words, but Somi simply grinned and leaned in slightly, her expression softening.

Without a word, Somi’s eyes glinted with mischief as she inhaled, catching the faint scent lingering on Yunjin’s clothes—a subtle hint of musk and release. She pulled back, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“I’m here for the same reason as you, I presume?” Somi teased, raising an eyebrow.

Yunjin’s face grew hotter, mortified that Somi could sense exactly what she’d been up to. She bit her lip, laughing nervously. “I… guess so,” she mumbled, managing a sheepish grin. “Didn’t think I’d… run into anyone I know here.”

Somi chuckled warmly, patting Yunjin’s shoulder with a playful smile. “Hey, we all need a place like this sometimes, right? No judgment.” She glanced back toward the hallways, her voice softening. “Anyway, I had a long day. I’ll see you around.”

Before Yunjin could respond, Somi turned and headed toward the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps fading into the quiet shadows of the hidden world they both shared. Yunjin watched her friend disappear, feeling a strange mix of relief, embarrassment, and an unexpected sense of camaraderie.

Left standing by the entrance, Yunjin took a steadying breath, her heartbeat gradually slowing. Tomorrow, she would return to her carefully crafted public life. But tonight, she carried the thrill of her private indulgence—and the quiet comfort of knowing she wasn’t alone in seeking a place to shed her public self, if only for a moment.

[lvioung]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✫⠀⠀Galileo⠀ 스스로 ⠀심판해 ⠀매일

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀@x-aravv ⠀make⠀ me⠀ super ⠀crazy

[baesol]

⁺　　　　👁️‍🗨️ 　　﹒﹒　　　♡

⁺　　　　🍒 　　﹒﹒　　　♡

[bu99erfly]

HUH YUNJIN 해파리 / JELLYFISH

[iyunjin]

𝜗𝜚 ﹐, KISS ME ; ⟡ 🎧ྀི

⠀⠀ ⠀❀𝆬❀𝆬 ㅤ⠀ ⠀𝒻airy⠀ ⠀⠀⠀gırl ⠀ ︵︵

[tae]

241227 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 1-800-hot-n-fun

[fairytopea]

༜ 𑜞𑇓࿐ ࣪ . flowing ᓭི༏ᓯྀ 𓂂ㅤㅤ

[trivijoy]

𑁍 ⊹ ⿴ ⸝⸝ ᶻz

𑁍 ⊹ ⿴ ⸝⸝ ᶻz

[ourdadai]

lesserafim [ yunjin ] lockscreens ♡

[nick-web]

⠀ֺ?⠀𝄴⠀۪⠀𓇼⠀۪🥮⠀𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝟤᪾ 𝗆𝖾𝗌᪾𝖾𝗌 𓊤⠀𝇁⠀ִ 𝙴 𝚅𝙴𝚁᪾𝇁𝙰⠀🏻̣

⠀ֺ⠀𝄄⠀ﮫ⠀𖹭⠀𝚅𝙾𝙲𝙴̂⠀𝇁⠀🍊᪾⠀𝗇𝗎𝗇᪾𝖼𝖺⠀𝒗𝒂᪾𝇁𝒊⠀𝇁⠀𝒂𝒄𝒉᪾𝒂𝒓⠀ 𝟷𝟶.𝟼⠀𝖺𝗅𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗆 𝗆𝖾𝗅᪾𝗁𝗈𝗋 𝗊𝗎𝖾 𝖾᪾𝗎!

𝄭⠀܂⠀ 𓆤⠀ 𝙴𝙻᪾𝙰 𝙴́ ⠀᪾𝄄⠀🍂᪾⠀⠀𝒕᪾𝒂̃𝒐 𝒎᪾𝒂́⠀𝇁⠀𝄴⠀𝖼𝗈͜𝗆᪾𝗂𝗀͜𝗈 :(

ᥘ⠀ׄ⠀🏻⠀⠀𝗆͜⍺𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗂⍺𝗅 ⍺͜𝗎𝗍𝗈𝗋⍺𝗅⠀⠀𝄒! ⠀🍐꯭ֵׄ⠀יִי꯭ִ⠀⠀𝗇𖹭 𝖼𝗈𝇁𝗉᪾𝗂𝖾⠀ׄ⠀𝅦⠀͝⠀͝

[rkivefr]

⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧ im a swan on a secret