#Irene x male reader

[traumei]

Irene x Male Reader

genre: Fluff

Irene was already mid-ramble when she glanced across the room, noticing the gentle, attentive expression on the man's face as he sat on the edge of their bed. The soft evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a serene glow over the bedroom that had become their shared sanctuary. Her words tumbled out in a steady stream, detailing the grueling dance practices and the relentless pace of her schedule.

“It was just one thing after another, you know? And then the stylist had to redo my hair three times because it just wouldn’t sit right," Irene explained, her voice a mix of frustration and exhaustion as she kicked off her shoes and sank beside him on the bed.

She paused, suddenly conscious of how much she'd been talking, her eyes flickering with a trace of worry. “. . . sorry, I talked too much,” she muttered, looking away slightly.

He turned towards her, his hand finding hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “No, no, no, not at all. Keep talking. I like hearing about your day, no matter how tough it gets,” he encouraged warmly, drawing a relieved laugh from her.

Encouraged, she scooted closer, resting her head against his shoulder. “And then, during the live performance, my mic almost slipped off. I had to catch it mid-song without anyone noticing. It was like a stealth mission in one of those spy movies you love,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled, imagining the scene. “You’re my superhero, you know that? Always saving the day, even on stage.” His words were light, but the admiration in his eyes was earnest, making her smile soften.

Comfortable in the familiarity of their room and the quiet understanding between them, Irene felt the weight of the day lift slightly. She continued to share, her voice steadier now, recounting both the trials and the trivial moments that peppered her day. As she spoke, it wasn’t just about unloading her burdens anymore; it was about sharing her world with him, knowing he cherished these insights into her life as much as she valued his presence.

“Sometimes, I just wonder if I’m doing everything right. It’s all so overwhelming at times,” she confessed quietly, her voice nearly a whisper as she leaned into him more.

“And every time, you’ll find you’re doing better than ‘right’, you’re doing amazingly. But remember, you don’t have to carry it all alone,” he murmured back, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. He then stand up and close the curtain.

The night get dimmer, the room was soft with shadows as he returned from the window, a blanket in hand which he gently wrapped around them both. Irene nestled closer to him, her eyes reflecting a mix of weariness and relief.

“Sometimes, it feels like I’m just going through the motions, you know? Like I’m on stage but not really present,” Irene confessed, her voice a whisper as she found comfort in his closeness.

He nodded, understanding her struggle. “I can only imagine how tough that must be. But here, you don’t have to perform or pretend. Just be Joohyun, the one I love, not the idol everyone else sees.”

She smiled at his words, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders. “I love that I can just be me with you. No cameras, no expectations. Just us.”

“Exactly, just us,” he echoed, his thumb gently tracing circles on her hand. “Tell me more about what’s on your mind. Whatever you need to share, I’m here.”

Irene took a deep breath, comforted by his invitation to open up further. “During Yesterday practice, I kept messing up the steps. Everyone thinks I handle pressure well, but today, I felt like I was crumbling under it. It’s so frustrating.”

He squeezed her hand gently. “You’re human, Joohyun-nah. It’s okay to have off days. They don’t define you or your incredible talent.”

Hearing his reassuring words, Irene felt a surge of gratitude. “Thank you for reminding me of that. It’s easy to forget when you feel like you’re under a microscope.”

“That’s what I’m here for—to remind you that you’re amazing, just the way you are,” he said with a warm smile.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind filled with mutual understanding and affection. Irene then broke the silence, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. “Do you know how much these nights mean to me? How they help me recharge and face another day?”

“I hope they mean as much to you as they do to me,” he replied, his voice just as soft.

“They do. More than you can imagine,” Irene assured him, leaning in to kiss his cheek gently. “Being here with you, it’s my favorite part of the day.”

As they settled deeper into the night, their conversation flowed naturally, each moment building the foundation of their bond. It wasn’t just about sharing the highlights and low points of her day, but about sharing life itself—raw, unedited, and real. With each word, each shared laughter and consoling whisper, Irene felt her spirits lift, fortified by the love and understanding that filled their small, sacred space.

[unstable-samurai]

Instructions

Irene x Male Reader

word count: 3.2K

—

You drive up to Irene's mansion, where every inch of the lawn looks meticulously manicured, and the fountain at the entrance shoots water in a pattern that can only be described as "obscenely expensive." You still can't believe you were hired to train a woman who doesn't seem to need a single day in the gym, but money is money, right?

You step out of the car and walk to the front door, a massive wooden structure that probably weighs more than your car. Before you have the chance to knock, the door opens as if the house has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Irene appears, and the first thing you think is that the photos simply don't do her justice.

She's like an upgraded version of a classic diva, someone with a beauty that would be admired in any era of humanity, now enhanced by all the improvements time could offer. Black hair cascading in soft waves, feline eyes that devour you in a fraction of a second, and a posture that makes you wonder if you're standing before a queen or a trap disguised as a woman.

"Oh, I was excited to finally meet my personal trainer," she says.

"Ms. Irene," you reply, offering your hand in a gesture that feels outdated in her presence. Her hand is soft and firm, and the grip is just enough to make you feel that you are, without a doubt, in foreign territory.

"Come on, I'll show you the house," she says, turning quickly without waiting for a response. You follow her, walking through a house that is a maze of marble, stainless steel, and glass. Every piece of art on the walls screams in a flamboyant way, "I have more money than you can imagine," and the faint scent of fresh flowers lingers in the air, as if even the aroma of the house was custom-made.

"This here is the living room," she says, passing through a room larger than your entire apartment, and you pretend not to be impressed. "And over there is the kitchen. You might need something to drink after the workouts. Or during, if I decide to tire you out too much."

She smiles again, and this time you can’t help but smile back, with that kind of irony that only arises when you know you're in trouble.

"This is the bedroom," she says, stopping in front of a closed door. You feel the tension rise a bit, and she notices it. "Not that you’ll need it, but I thought you'd like to know where it is." She opens the door and reveals a room that looks like it came straight out of a decor magazine: an immense bed, silk sheets, and a view of the garden that seems hand-painted.

"Nice place," you say, more out of politeness than anything else.

"Thank you. Now, the gym," she says, as if this was the true purpose of the entire visit. She leads you to a room where all the exercise machines seem to shine with newness. "I need to stay in shape, after all," she says, leaning casually on a treadmill, her posture suggesting that the idea of sweat is something completely alien.

"Shall we begin, then?" you ask, already pulling out the water bottle from your bag, trying to appear professional.

You decide to start the session with the basics, which seems like the best approach when dealing with someone whose idea of physical effort probably consists of reaching for the remote control.

"So, Irene, have you trained before?" you ask, but in your mind, she doesn’t exactly look like the type who frequents a gym.

She smiles, that smile you're already beginning to associate with trouble. "Only if you count marathon shopping trips and half-hour Pilates sessions with my instructor who told me to breathe deeply and think of happy places. Does that count?"

You smile back. "Well, let's start with something simple. A warm-up. Just to prepare the muscles."

"Oh, I love a good warm-up," she replies.

You guide her through some basic stretches, and of course, she starts asking for help. "Can you show me how to do this one? I've always had trouble with it," she says while trying to touch her toes.

You approach, placing your hands on her waist to guide her, trying to ignore the fact that she’s perfumed for a workout. "Like this, push a little further forward... That’s it."

She lets out a soft sigh, almost inaudible, but you notice. "I don't think I've ever had someone help me like this," she says, making you realize that "help" has multiple connotations for her.

"Practice makes perfect," you respond, trying to stay focused.

After the warm-up, you lead her to the weight machines. "Let's start with something simple, like the leg extension machine. This will work your quadriceps."

She looks at the machine as if it were some kind of medieval torture device. "Quadriceps... Right. And this does what exactly? Makes me gain muscles?"

"Exactly. You sit here, adjust the weight, and lift your legs to extend the knee. It’s great for toning the thighs."

She sits down, but instead of following your instructions, she just pretends to be confused. "I don't think I'm getting it. Can you show me again?"

You lean in to help her adjust the position of her legs, and you feel her gaze fixed on you. "Like this? Is it good now?" she asks, her voice softer than it should be for a simple exercise instruction.

"Yes, it's perfect," you reply.

"So, have you been training for a long time?" she asks as you guide her through the exercise. "It’s noticeable, you know... by your physique, the way you explain…"

"I’ve been training for a few years. It’s a passion of mine."

"Passion? Interesting," she says. "And are you single? Or is there someone waiting for you at home after you spend the day helping women like me stay in shape?"

You hesitate, realizing that the conversation is veering off course.

"I'm single. I guess my work takes up most of my time. What about you? You told me your husband is always traveling, right?"

"He's away most of the time, yes. His work is... demanding. But luckily, I know how to take care of myself," she says, lifting her legs on the machine with a little more enthusiasm. When Irene was done, she paused to drink water, then walked between the machines until she chose the next one. “Hey, help me here. I don't want to mess up the movement, I need your guidance." She says, standing in front of the lat pulldown machine.

"Oh, great. This one’s for your back and shoulders," you explain, adjusting the weight. "You hold here, pull the bar down, and then release slowly, feeling the resistance."

She looks at the machine as if it were an abstract art piece.

"Looks complicated. Show me how it's done?"

You demonstrate the movement, feeling her eyes on every motion of your body. When you finish, she positions herself, but instead of pulling the bar, she holds it for a second, looking at you with a false expression of confusion. "I think I’m not doing it right. Can you guide me?"

You approach again, this time placing your hands on her arms, helping her execute the movement. "Like this," you say, your voice a little lower. "Pull with your back muscles, not just your arms."

"Since you’ve been working out for a long time, you must be very strong," she comments as she pulls the bar, her muscles tensing softly under your hands. "And you must be used to lifting heavy, right?"

"It depends on the workout," you respond, trying to ignore the fact that every word she says seems to have a double meaning. "But it’s always good to vary, to do a bit of everything."

"So, how many of these should I do?" she asks, as if she’s genuinely interested in the answer, but her eyes say something else.

"Let's do three sets of twelve reps," you reply, trying to keep a professional tone. She does the first set with you close by, watching every movement, and then asks for your help with the next machine.

The dynamic continues until, by the end of the workout, she’s sweating, but in a way that looks more like a healthy glow than discomfort. She stretches, her muscles relaxing, and looks at you with that same smile that started everything. "I think you made me work pretty hard today. Maybe I’ll need a massage afterward," she says, her tone provocative.

You smile, unsure whether to take her seriously or laugh. "Massages aren’t part of the package, but we can talk about a relaxation stretch."

"We’ll see," she says, stepping closer with that smile that always precedes trouble, the kind you should have learned to avoid. “It seems like I’m the only one sweating here,” she says, with a sweetness that’s pure venom, before leaning in and, without warning, licking your cheek.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. "Ms. Irene, what is this?!"

"I told you, you’re not very sweaty. And I licked you to prove it," she responds with the casualness of someone asking the time.

"But what the hell does that mean? I came here to work—"

"And you’ll get paid at the end, of course!" she interrupts, her smile widening in a way that only makes things worse. “I just want… to have a little fun with you. Include that in the deal. You could earn a bonus for it, if you’d like.”

She takes another step forward.

“Irene, you’re married. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea.”

“No one needs to know, sweetheart,” she whispers, as if it were a secret you truly wanted to hear. “You’re too young to be so worried about life.”

You try to speak, but the words come out jumbled, as if your mouth forgot how to work.

“I-I… This isn’t right.”

She laughs, a sound that makes you feel like a mischievous boy caught in the act. “I bet I’ll make you change your mind once you see what you’re missing.” With a quick, decisive movement, she removes her top, revealing small, pale, perfect, and provocative breasts. Her smile widens, and you feel your face flush with heat. Worse than that—you feel your cock pulse in your pants.

“What do you think?” she asks, each word dripping with irony and certainty.

“Cover yourself, please!” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, but the plea is almost pathetic.

“Oh, don’t play the saint with me,” she retorts, suddenly stepping closer, grabbing your hand with firm resolve and placing it on her breast. The touch is warm and soft. You swallow hard, but it feels like the lump in your throat is stuck there for good. And the worst part? You can’t pull your hand away.

“What do you think? My boobs are small, but they fit perfectly in your mouth,” she teases, her voice lower, more intense.

“This isn’t right, Ms. Irene…” you try, but your resistance is fragile.

“Shh! Just call me Irene,” she orders, and before you can protest again, she seals any chance of escape with a kiss—warm and commanding, as if she already knew you wouldn’t say no.

Before you could even process what was happening, Irene had already wrapped her hand around your cock. With force. With a desire that you felt reverberate down your spine. “You’re so hard for me,” she whispers, her lips pulling away from yours, but the heat of her proximity still clinging to your skin.

“Irene…” you murmur, the name escaping as a whisper, almost a plea, but for what? For her to stop or to keep going?

“That’s right,” she continues, giving you no room to regain control. “I want to hear you moan my name while you fuck me good.”

Before you could refuse—or worse, agree—she pulls you toward a weight bench like she’s practiced the move a thousand times. It’s astonishing how a woman so small, so delicate, can exert such absolute control over you. You feel like a toy in her hands, powerless to resist.

You take off your shirt while she kneels to untie your shoes, making sure every detail is perfect, that you’re comfortable—but not for you, for her. When she asks you to take off the rest, you comply without question, feeling the cool air caress your exposed skin. She compliments your physique, her words sliding over your skin like hot oil. Her hands roam over your muscles, her fingers tracing the contours of your biceps.

“You’re so hot,” she murmurs, kissing your chest, her lips warm and soft. The excitement builds within you, uncontrollable, wild.

You sit back down on the bench, Irene kneels between your legs, her smile a mix of wickedness and pure desire. She takes your cock with a confidence that makes you hold your breath, her touch firm, almost possessive. “Wow… you’re much bigger and thicker than my husband,” she murmurs, licking the tip, teasing, while her eyes remain fixed on yours. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have something like this… I’m going to love gagging on this cock.”

She slowly opens her mouth, her lips stretching around the head of your cock, and the sensation is mind-blowing. You watch, mesmerized, as she starts to take you in, inch by inch, until her mouth is completely full. “Oh, yes,” she mumbles with difficulty, her words muffled as she struggles to accommodate your size.

She begins to move her head up and down, faster and faster, the wet, warm sound of her mouth creating a steady rhythm. Her small mouth adjusts to your cock, fighting the instinct to pull away, but instead, she pushes forward, making it clear she wants more.

The sight of her, drowning on your cock, is almost unbearably arousing. You can’t resist, your hands go to her hair, pulling to gain more control. With a decisive move, you push deeper into her throat, and the muffled moan she lets out is a mix of pleasure and challenge. “Just like that,” she moans, tears welling in her eyes from pleasure and effort, but with no intention of stopping. She wants this as much as you do.

You feel her throat tightening around your cock, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you as she takes you as deep as she can, not giving up even when her air becomes scarce. The mix of pain and pleasure on her face only fuels your desire further, and you continue, deeper and deeper, until she finally has to stop to breathe, gasping, but with a satisfied, lascivious smile on her face.

Irene stands up, her gaze burning with a desire that mirrors your own. She starts to take off her leggings, revealing she’s not wearing any panties. The sight of her like this, naked and ready, is enough to take your breath away.

Without a second thought, you grab her firmly, your hands holding her slim waist as you lift her off the ground with an ease you didn’t even know you had. Irene lets out a low, sensual moan as she wraps her legs around you, locking her ankles behind your back, pulling the two of you even closer. With a decisive movement, you press her against the nearest wall, the cold concrete contrasting with the growing heat between you.

“Ohhh, yes,” she moans as you penetrate her for the first time, her head falling back, hitting the wall, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re so thick!”

With each thrust, Irene responds with louder, more desperate moans. “Just like that, baby… more, please, more!” Her voice is a mix of command and plea, her nails digging into your shoulders, pulling you closer, as if she wants to merge with you.

“That’s it! Oh, God! You fuck me better than my husband!”

That somehow spurs you on, every movement becoming deeper, stronger, as if you’re trying to shove every inch of yourself into her. Irene bites her lip, her face in pure pleasure, and then she starts babbling, as if facial expressions weren’t enough to describe what she’s feeling. “Yes… fuck me… fuck me hard… do what my husband never could…”

But she’s not the only one on the edge. The heat of her body, the almost painful tightness around your cock, every moan and sigh, it all makes you want more, makes you lose control.

After what feels like both an eternity and an instant, you feel like you need more. With a quick move, you pull away from the wall and carry her to the bench. Irene drops to the floor, turns around, positioning herself on all fours while you sit down. She positions herself, slowly lowering onto your cock, moaning as she feels you stretch inside her, filling every inch.

She leans back against you, her head resting on your shoulder, her body sinking even further into your lap. Your hands immediately move to her small breasts, squeezing them, while your lips find her delicate neck, biting and sucking the soft skin. Irene lets out a loud moan, the sound of pure satisfaction, and arches her body, pushing herself even deeper.

“Yes… leave a mark… mark that you were here… that you fucked me like no one ever has,” she pleads, her words breathless, interrupted by moans that only grow louder as you squeeze and thrust into her.

You don’t hesitate, biting harder, leaving a visible mark on her neck, a testament to what’s happening. Irene shudders in response, her pussy tightening even more around you, each of her movements sending waves of pleasure through you, making you forget any shred of morality. She moves against you, her rhythm frantic, the need for more, always more, evident in every gesture.

“Yes… yes, baby… fuck me until I can’t take it anymore,” she moans, her hands reaching back, grabbing your neck, pulling you closer as she continues to move, to lose herself in the sensation.

Irene, breathless, leans in closer, and with a soft voice, almost a whisper, says in your ear, “I want you to fuck my tight ass.”

Her words are like a match striking the box, igniting something fierce within you. Irene rises off your lap and walks to a corner of the gym, where she grabs a bottle of lube. She returns with a mischievous smile, shaking the bottle in the air. “I brought this just for this moment,” she says.

“You had this in mind from the start, didn’t you?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

Irene doesn’t bother replying. Instead, she kisses you before lying down on the padded floor, her pale skin contrasting with the dark material, her body exposed in a posture of pure submission, but with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what they want. “Come here, you naughty boy,” she calls, her voice like poisoned honey.

You kneel beside her, your hands trembling with desire as you reach for the lube. Irene smiles at you, then gets on all fours and arches her back. With steady movements, you pour the gel into your palm and begin applying it to her ass, feeling the warm, soft skin under your fingers. Irene lets out a low sigh, closing her eyes, savoring the sensation. "That's it... get me ready, I want to feel every inch of your thick cock inside me."

You don’t waste any time. With one hand, you spread the lube around and inside her ass, your fingers gently penetrating to prepare her. Irene bites her lip, her body slightly writhing, a mix of pleasure and anticipation. "Feels good, keep going... make me ready for you."

When you feel she’s sufficiently lubed, you apply the rest to your cock, rubbing it until it’s fully coated, hard and throbbing.

Irene changes position, lying on her back on the floor. You position yourself between her raised legs, and she looks at you with eyes full of desire. "Come on, don't wait any longer," she begs, her voice low and sweet. You press the tip of your cock against her tight entrance, pushing slowly, feeling the initial resistance. Irene lets out a moan of pain mixed with pleasure, and you keep going, advancing inch by inch, feeling the heat and pressure around you.

"Ahhh… yes," Irene moans, her eyes closed, her hands gripping the padding beneath her as you penetrate her slowly. "It's so big… so tight…"

You keep pushing, feeling her ass open up, millimeter by millimeter, her body adjusting to your size. The heat, the pressure, the sensation of filling her completely is indescribable, and the low moan she lets out only fuels your desire. "Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me deeper," she pleads.

You obey, pushing deeper until you're finally all the way inside her. Irene lets out a muffled moan, a sound of pure satisfaction, her body arching with pleasure. "Yes… like that… don’t stop," she begs, her eyes shining with wild desire. You start to move, slowly at first, savoring every second, every contortion of her body, every moan that escapes her lips.

As you gain rhythm, Irene’s moans grow louder, more desperate. "Yes… fuck my ass… do what I never let my husband do… ahhh… harder… please," she moans, every word an encouragement for you to go deeper, to push both of you to the limit.

And you do, increasing your speed and force, your hands gripping her thighs firmly, guiding each thrust with precision, feeling her body tremble with pleasure until it all comes down to heat, sweat, the pure desire consuming you both.

Irene then begins to tremble, her body stiff with imminent pleasure. She looks at you, her eyes burning with lust and urgency. "Mmm, I’m about to cum, babe… Let’s cum together?" she asks, her voice broken by moans.

You feel her body pulsing around you, each contraction almost pushing you over the edge.

"Do you want to come inside my pussy? Fill it with your cum?"

The desire and madness of the moment take over you. “Can I?” you ask, your voice tense, almost disbelieving.

“Of course you can,” she replies with a wicked smile, "I'm on the pill, darling. I want to feel you unload everything inside me."

With that, you both move into the classic missionary position. Irene spreads her legs and bends them, her feet planted on the floor, while you kneel between her thighs, your cock positioned exactly where she wants it. Irene wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth and tightness of her pussy confirm your decision: you need to cum inside her.

You start thrusting into her, each stroke deeper and faster than the last. Irene moans loudly, the sound of her moans echoing through the gym. “Ahhh, yes… more… harder…” she screams, her eyes closed in pure ecstasy. “Fuck my pussy… Make me your cum dump.”

You’re on the verge of exploding, your entire body tense with the anticipation of climax. Irene feels it and, between moans, murmurs, “I’m almost there… I’m going to cum…”

“Me too… I’m almost there…” you reply, your breathing fast.

She opens her eyes, her gaze burning with intensity. “Have you ever cum inside a stranger before, huh? Ever filled a married woman with cum, you pervert?” She asks, her words hitting you like a wave of heat.

Those words make you lose control. With one last, powerful thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, feeling your cum release into the depths of Irene’s pussy. She screams as she cums at the same time, her body writhing beneath you, her legs tightening around your waist.

“Ahhh… I can feel it all… it’s so warm… so good…” Irene moans, her words loaded with pure pleasure, her breathing ragged as she feels every hot stream filling her. You keep moving, even as the orgasm leaves you breathless, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When you finally pull away, your cock slipping out, cum begins to slowly drip from her pussy.

Irene smiles, a satisfied and wicked smile, as she looks at you, her breathing still uneven. "That was… exactly what I wanted," she says, her eyes gleaming with contentment, as the cum drips between her thighs, and you watch, fascinated, as she uses her fingers to spread her lips, letting the cum flow freely. She collects some of the semen with a finger and brings it to her mouth, tasting the result of your mix.

Irene kneels beside you and leans in for a deep kiss, her lips warm and moist against yours, while her hands glide over your body, caressing you with a certain tenderness.

“So, handsome, what did you think of the workout?” she asks.

You, still with your body pulsing with residual pleasure, respond with a smile, “I loved it. It was… incredible.”

Irene smiles back. “Good to hear that,” she says, with a note of amusement, “you can consider yourself my official personal trainer now. And the best part, you’re still getting paid for it. Isn’t it the best job in the world?”

You laugh, a mix of incredulity and amusement, realizing that your concept of ‘job’ will never be the same. “So that’s it? Daily sex with a gorgeous woman and I’m going to get paid for it? What are the downsides?”

“There aren’t any. As long as my husband never finds out, of course. But that’s my problem. Your only requirement and concern is to keep me satisfied.”

With that, she gets up nonchalantly, and starts gathering the clothes scattered on the floor.

You also get up, and as you’re dressing, you can’t help but think about the absurdity of the job you’re accepting.

When you’re almost ready to leave, Irene approaches, casually adjusting her hair.

“Don’t forget, tomorrow is training day again,” she says, her voice full of light arrogance. “Same time. Don’t be late. I want more of that… energy,” she adds with a smile.

You nod, laughing to yourself as you try to regain some of your composure.

“Sure, I’ll mark it on the calendar.”

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

New Assistant 

Smut (Defloration, first-time sex, deep penetration, creampie, whinging, rough sex, ass spanking, little aftercare, slave contract)

Chapter 17

3975 Words 

(It’s time for a new assistant with Irene getting busy with her new girl group. Luckily she has a junior assistant in training that is due for a promotion. As her new boss it is required for you to welcome her and break her in.)

The office has been busy since returning from San Francisco. Multiple meetings with project managers, clients, partner companies, and personal meetings. You previously met with JYP and suggested a survival show with the trainees from his company. He mentioned it would give it a twist when it comes to the creation of a girl group. 

At first, you were hesitant, but after much discussion about what it would look like, you decided to get on board. You even considered adding Mina as a contestant since you were confident in her skills. 

The only thing remaining would be to inform the trainees about their participation in a survival show, so you and JYP decided to hold a meeting with all the trainees.

The meeting went as you suspected; the trainees were nervous about their participation. The younger trainees saw this as a way to prove themselves and increase their chances of debut, while the older ones voiced their disapproval. 

Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and especially Jihyo were angry at JYP for even suggesting the idea after their failed attempts at debut. 

Jihyo cries from disappointment, with the other two comforting her, knowing how much they have worked for these past few years. 

The meeting ends, leaving a sour taste in your mouth, not knowing how to react. You should have gone with your gut, but it's too late to change your mind, and only for the best outcome. 

When you get back to your office, you discuss things with Jieun (IU) and understand the situation. Being closer to them, she has learned a few things and has learned how disappointed 3Mix would be with their recent failed attempt. They assumed that switching companies would have an easier path to debut, especially Jihyo, who has been in training for the longest time among the trainees in the company. 

“I can’t back out.”

”I understand, sir, but try to be a bit understanding.”

”I’ll try.

The room is silent; you can feel the tension in the air and ask, “What’s next on the agenda?”

”You have a meeting with Irene to discuss about Miyeon.” 

“When is that?

”Later today, it's your last meeting.”

”Thank you.”

———

You hear a knock, “Sir, it’s Irene.”

”Come in.”

”Thank you.” She stands in front of you with folders in her hands, waiting for you to look up at her. 

“Take a seat.”

”Yes.”

”Let’s get to the point. How is she doing?”

”At the beginning, she had a bit of an adjustment to her new schedule. She asked a lot of questions but began to pick things up at a reasonable pace. I also made sure she continued her education and decided to pursue higher education.”

”That’s great. Seems like these few months have been good for her.”

”Yes, I tried not to give her so much at the beginning and slowly increased her workload. Now that I’m in my group, she makes my duties easier.”

”Do you think she can take over your duties once you get busier?”

”With the basic stuff, yes. I haven’t even her any sensitive information yet.”

”Let me ask you one thing. Do you think she can be trusted?”

”She hasn’t let me down. So yes, I think she can, but I can't promise she won’t make a mistake.”

”Jieun suggested a contract like the two of you have as assurance.”

Irene looks perplexed about Jieun's suggestion, “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

”No, that’s a great idea. I should have mentioned it sooner.” 

In reality, Miyeon has grown on Irene throughout their time together. Hearing about binding her into a contract like the one she is in saddens her as she knows that Miyeon’s freedom will be stripped. 

“Here are her files, sir.”

You read over her report, the things she’s helped Irene with, and her newly gained skills as an assistant. You opened her health file and noticed that her birthday was recent, “Oh, she just turned eighteen. How nice.”

Irene clenches her fist, seeing your grin. She understands what you’re thinking and is disgusted by it.

”Yes, I bought her a birthday and a small dinner together.”

”That’s sweet.”

”Thank you, sir.”

You close her file and say, “Thank you for the report. I’ll have IU put together her new contract and set up a health check for Miyeon as soon as possible.”

”Is that really necessary?”

”I would have thought you would be happy. She’ll take over some of your duties unless you want her to?”

”No, I’m grateful,” but she just felt sorry for Miyeon.

”Okay, you can go now.”

Irene exits your office, defeated, and heads to meet her members in the training room.

——-

It’s been a few days since your meeting with Irene, and now Jieun and Irene are meeting with Miyeon. 

She’s nervous about the meeting, hoping it's about her effort as a junior assistant. 

She is greeted by Jieun and escorted to the conference room you use for private meetings. 

“Irene unnie, good morning.”

”Good morning, Miyeon.” 

They sit and discuss Miyeon’s position as a junior assistant. It’s most of what you and Irene talked about a few days ago, but now it comes to the main part. Irene mentions that she believes Miyeon can take on a larger role within the company. This makes Miyeon smile and happy about her efforts being looked at after her mistake a few months ago. 

“Irene and I would like to consider you for the position of one of the CEO’s personal assistants.” 

Miyeon looks surprised and at Irene sitting across from her, “Does that mean that I’ll be working in the same position as you, unnie?”

Irene replies, “Actually, I’ll be taking a small role since I am trying to focus on my group, but you’ll be working closely with Jieun.”

Jieun interrupts and asks, “What do you think? Would you be interested in the position?”

Miyeon immediately replies, “Yes, I’d love that. I want to prove myself to everyone here after my incident a few months back, so I would love to do my share.”

”Great, that’s the sprint,” says Jieun. “We figured you would accept, so I brought up a contract for the meeting. You know, just to make this official.”

”Yes, of course.”

She goes over the contract and covers the position as the CEO’s assistant, as well as some benefits.

”I talked to CEO-nim, and he said that you’ll be getting a biweekly salary and spending money.” 

Miyeon looks at the contract and is surprised by the amount, “Oh my god, isn’t that too much?”

”He wants to make sure you’re comfortable.”

”Thank you so much.”

”Of course. Also, this section talks about you moving in with the CEO and assisting in his daily needs, like taking notes, setting up meetings, getting his dry cleaning, making sure he has his meals and other miscellaneous things.”

”Oh, I’ll be living with him?”

She looks at Irene, worried, and Irene responds, “We’ve all done it at one point, mainly at the beginning. Once you get out of your probationary period, you will have the ability to move out to your own apartment like we did.”

“Oh, I get my own apartment?”

“Irene says, “Yes, like the one we live in. The CEO provides it for us.”

”Okay, I’m excited.”

”Down below are some of the perks that come with the job.” 

Miyeon looks at the list and is surprised by the amount of perks, each better than the previous one.”

”Where do I sign?”

Irene interrupts, “Wait, we also want to let you know that this job comes with sensitive information, so confidentiality is required.”

”Yes, I understand.”

”Are you sure? Would you like us to give you some time as you read over the contract to make sure that everything is okay?”

Jieun gives Irene a side eye, signaling to not step out of bounds.

She turns the numerous pages and skims over the large letters that talk about job expectations, payment, sickness, insurance, dental, memberships, education opportunities, a termination clause, and other issues that are in fine print. 

“Where do I sign?”

Jieun points at the numerous blank spaces that require Miyeon’s signature. After signing about ten pages, she gets to the eleventh page and asks, “I have fully read and understood the content of this agreement. I sign this document entirely of my own accord without any enforcement and accept any consequences if the agreement is violated or broken. 

Irene tries to get Miyeon’s attention, but Jieun stops her, allowing Miyeon to give her final signature and stamps her Dojang (family seal) as a signed agreement. 

A tear falls from Irene, knowing that Miyeon has sealed her fate as your newest toy. “Unnie, are you crying?”

”Sorry, it's just that…”

”Irene is just happy for you, that's all.”

“Aww, thanks, unnie. I’ll make sure to make you proud.”

Irene feels like she’s about to cry and says, “Oh wow, look at the time. I have another commitment to get to. I’ll take my leave, but Jieun will continue with your onboarding.”

”Thanks again, unnie.”

Irene walks away and exits the room, leaving Jieun and Miyeon alone. Jieun asks Miyeon if she has any questions, and they continue to talk for a while. Most questions are about the role and about the chance to debut in the near future. Jieun replies that anything about her debut is up to the CEO, but she and Irene can answer questions about the job.

Jieun then takes out a folder with Miyeon’s name on the front, “I have your health file right here. It shows that all shots are up to date and have no signs of illness; they are practically healthy.”

”Yes, I take care of myself.”

”It shows.”

Miyeon giggles at the compliment when she hears Jieun ask, “Miyeon, are you still a virgin?”

”Ehh?”

Surprised by the question, she tries to calm herself before answering in a shaky voice, “Ye… yes, I am.”

”Just wondering. Since of your previous mistake.”

There’s a moment of silence, causing Miyeon to feel nervous, but Jieun changes the conversation, “I’ll submit the paperwork today, and your new badge should be ready for tomorrow. Also, begin packing, and I’ll send someone to pick up your items in the morning. 

——

Miyeon has spent most of the night packing her belongings. She tried to talk to Irene but never got home. Waking up, she sees a message on her phone from Irene saying that she ended up crashing at her member’s dorm after practice and will see her later today. 

Miyeon hears a ring and sees it’s the workers from the moving company. They help take her belongings to the CEO’s condo, where Jieun greets them. She escorts you to your room, which is much bigger than the one she was in previously. 

After unpacking the necessities, Miyeon accompanies Jieun to her office, where she gets her new badge and a copy of her job requirements and daily and weekly assignments. 

“It’s going to be most of the things you do now, but over time, you’ll be responsible for what’s on the bottom of the list.”

“Okay, got it.”

“Also, this is what a typical schedule for the CEO looks like. Meetings throughout the day, but his mornings and evenings are mostly free, and there are gaps throughout the day.”

Miyeon looks at the schedule and sees an asterisk for the morning and late evenings. “What are the asterisks for?”

“The CEO might need your help in the morning. For the evenings, it’s just helping him after a long day at work.” 

“Oh, like a massage?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Oh, okay. I’ve done that before with my appa and eomma.”

“Nice. I’ll show you how it’s done since it’s your first time.”

“Thank you, Jieun unnie.”

“You can go home and unpack. Just meet me in my apartment around dinner. I want to go over some things with you.”

——

Miyeon meets Jieun at her apartment a few hours later. They both enjoy a simple dinner and talk about their personal life when she receives a notification that you arrived back at your condo.

“He’s back from his dinner. Let’s get ready and greet him.” She looks at Miyeon and says, “Come with me. I’ll give you some things to make sure you look presentable for today.” 

They exit the elevator and head towards the large doors. Using their pin, they enter the room and hear the shower. 

“Seems like he’s showering. Come with me.” 

Miyeon follows Jieun to the service room and starts to get undressed. Surprised, Miyeon asks, “What are you doing, unnie?”

“Get undressed, rinse yourself, and put this on,” as Jieun hands her a two-piece bikini.

Jieun looks at Miyeon as she shows a lost expression, “Quickly before he gets out.” 

“What are we doing?”

“Service.” 

“Ehh?” 

She helps Miyeon undress and pulls her to the shower. Miyeon tries to cover herself with her arm but is shocked by the cold water coming from the shower head. Miyeon’s mind goes wild, thinking of what type of service Jieun meant. 

After rinsing, they quickly dry themselves and put on their bikini before coming out of the service room.  

They see you swimming in your pool, going from one end to the other. Before reaching the sliding door, Jieun pulls Miyeon to the slide and whispers, “Make sure to do whatever he asks. He can be nice, but if you rub him the wrong way, he’ll make your life rough and even ruin your career.”

Miyeon nods nervously and follows Jieun, who slides the door open and walks towards the side of the pool. She waits until your head pops out of the water and waves at you. 

“Good evening, sir. I see that you’re enjoying your swim.”

”After a busy day at work, I couldn’t help myself. It’s such a stress reliever.”

”That’s great to hear. I brought Miyeon with me today,” and waves at you to step forward.

”Good evening, sir,” and bows her head.

”I see that Jieun is teaching you properly.”

”Of course. May we join you?”

”Yes”, giving a satisfied smile.

Jieun walks towards the edge of the pool, grabs the rail, and walks into the pool. 

You look at Miyeon, who is standing frozen, “Join us.” She nods and follows, walking slowly into the pool. She makes her way to where you two are and is surprised to see your hand on Jieun’s ass. 

Jieun giggles and gets closer to you, letting you grip her cheeks, “Nice and firm like always.” Jieun blushes, “I try to work out since you like it so much.”

You look at Miyeon and extend your hand, “Come, don’t be afraid.” Miyeon hesitates but remembers what Jieun said earlier and extends her hand. “Wow, Miyeon, you look great in that bikini.”

”Thank you…” trying to hide her face by tilting down. 

Suddenly she feels the touch of your hand on her ass and freezes. “Miyeon, you have such a soft butt.” There is no response, and Jieun speaks up, “I bet she’s happy about your compliment but is too shy to say anything. How about we spice things up a little?" and undoes her bra, letting it float to the top. 

You let your hand off of Mieyon’s asscheek and grab Jieun’s waist, pulling her towards you. She wraps her legs around your waist, and you go in for a kiss on her neck. Jieun moans, feeling your lips kiss her neck to her collarbone. 

Miyeon remains frozen, seeing you massage Jieun’s breast as you kiss her. She understands now what Jieun meant when she said “service” and realizes what her role as the CEO’s personal assistant meant. 

Out of nowhere, Jieun says, “Did you know that Miyeon is a virgin?” Miyeon sees your attention and immediately goes towards her. “Oh, really?” 

“Yes, her body was silky smooth as well.” 

You put Jieun down, walk towards Mieyon, and say, “Come with me.”

”Where are we going?”

”To the bedroom, of course.”

She looks back at Jieun, who follows behind them. Miyeon asks in a trembling voice, “I don’t want my first time like this.”

Jieun replies, “Remember what I told you earlier. You belong to him now.”

You take Miyeon into the bedroom, drop your shorts, and toss them into the hamper. “Undress, I want to see what I’m going to be working with.” 

Miyeon's body trembles at the idea that she’s going to lose her virginity in this manner. She assumed it would be with her boyfriend and a romantic setting, but instead, as your assistant. 

You say sternly, “Strip, while I’m being nice.” Miyeon flinches and undoes her bra, dropping it on the floor before moving on to her bottom. 

With her completely nude, you circle around and admire her body, small breasts, flat stomach, and pretty face. You get behind her, part her hair to the side, and kiss the side of her neck. 

Miyeon closes her eyes, foreign to a male’s touch. She tells herself that she can do it; her dreams of becoming an idol are much bigger, and she is willing to sacrifice her body for a moment that will change her life. 

You can see her shiver in fear, like a gazelle that’s about to be eaten by a lion. It turns you on, the feeling of having control of a female. You get closer to her, and she gets startled when you press your body against hers. She feels a thick, hot sensation touching her back and remains frozen. 

You whisper in her ear, “I’m going to give you two choices; you can  be in control of what happens to you, or I make the choices for you.” 

She is at least thankful that she can decide on how she’ll lose her virginity. “I can do it myself.”

“Alright, tell me what you want me to do.” 

Miyeon tries to come up with an idea quickly. She looks around and says, “Get on the bed and lay down.” 

You agree, head to the large white bed, and lie in the middle of it. She walks and climbs on the bed, sitting next to you.

With no idea what to do, she climbs on your thighs and stares at your cock. It's the first time she's seen a cock, and she is lost on what to do. She turns around and looks at Jieun, who is standing in the corner. “Miyeon, grab it with your hand and stroke it like this. Here, you use this.” With the bottle of lube in her hand she opens it, pours some on your cock, coating it. She uses her right hand, stroking it awkwardly at first. As she continues, it starts to get bigger, which makes her use both hands. 

“I don’t think it's going to fit inside of me.” 

You respond, “You don’t know until you try,” giving her a smirk. She turns around once more and looks at Jieun, hoping for her to save her. Instead, Jieun replies, “Miyeon, you got this. Hwaiting!”

There’s no way around it; she has a future to think about, and giving her virginity is a small price to pay. That’s what she is trying to make herself believe. It’s the only way she’ll be able to accept what she is about to do. 

Miyeon then grabs your cock and lifts herself off. She tries to align your cock to her entrance and is scared by how big it really is compared to her small entrance.

She lowers her body, pressing her lower lips against the mushroom tip of your cock, and stops. Miyeon looks at you with the look of someone who’s accepted her fate and control of her life to you and slowly drops her body. 

You feel your tip spread her lower lips, pushing into her virgin hole. She groans, experiencing being stretched this much for the first time. She stops when she reaches her thin barrier and looks at you once more before giving her a hungry smile. 

With her hands on your abs, she gives a hard drop; she gasps but immediately bites her lip. “Fuck, you’re so tight!” 

There’s no response, only her body trembling as she’s trying to quickly adjust to the pressure. You place your hand on her arm, but she waves you off. She immediately apologizes, “I’m sorry, sir, it’s just that I’m trying to get adjusted to your size.”

“Don’t worry, it’s expected.” You touch her arm once more, this time allowing you to embrace her. 

“Want me to take over?”

She nods, “Yes.”

You place your hands around her small waist and lift her, pulling her out from her cunt. “Bend over and get on all fours.” 

She does as she’s told and places her body on top of the large pillow. She presses her face against it and closes her eyes and she feels you press your cock into her cunt.

“Hmph… hmm…” 

She clenches the pillow, feeling your cock stretch her walls. She yelps when you hit the back of her womb, “Wait, wait, you’re breaking me!” You don’t respond and increase thrust inside her. She clenches her hands on the pillow as you use her body for relief. You want to make sure that her body gets used to your cock, especially her womb, since you’re its new owner. 

“Does it feel better when I take over?” 

There’s no response from Miyeon, so you raise your arm and give her a slight slap on her ass. She yelps and lifts her head, “Ow!”

You increase the pace of your thrust, your balls hitting her flesh, “Fuck, you’re going to be as great as my new toy.” Miyeon just continues to bite onto the pillow, listening to you talk about her position as your new toy.

Before long you’re about to cum and warn Mieyon on your orgasm nearing. “I’m going to cum.” Miyeon lifts her head, her mouth drooling, and pleads, “Please… outside… do it outside…” You scoff and say, “You’re in no position to throw out demands, I’ll cum wherever I want, and I always cum inside.” 

Miyeon feels your cock throb and releases a large wave of cum, flooding her walls and womb. “No! So much inside!” Your cum floods her womb to the brim; she can feel her womb getting addicted to your cum and cock, knowing that there is no coming back after this.

Jieun leaves after the second round and is satisfied, knowing she did a good job for her master. You continue to fuck Miyeon, round after round, until she passes out, and even then fuck her until you get your fill. 

Miyeon wakes late in the morning completely nude, and her lower body is completely sore. She tries to get up, but any pressure on her legs causes her to tremble and fall back onto the bed. 

“Miyeon, it’s me, Irene.”

”Unnie, come in.”

Irene comes inside, sees the mess, and feels sorry for what Miyeon just went through. “How are you feeling?”

”Horrible, I lost my virginity, and my body is completely sore.”

”I’m sorry you had to go through this.”

”Jieun said it was necessary if I wanted the slightest chance to make it in the industry.”

There’s a silence, and Irene breaks the ice and says, “Here, take this.”

”What is it?

”A morning-after pill.”

[sleepinghypnos]

ITZY Lia x Male Reader x Red Velvet Wendy ft. Irene

Tags: Smut (EDITED)

Genre: Facefucking, Deepthroat, Anal, Dirty Talk, Female Idol x Male Reader

A/N: Dialogues will be color coded

Black - Reader

Pink - Lia

Red - Wendy

Violet - Irene

Green - Other people

It's been a week since you started working for ITZY. The famous idol group has also been busy because of their recent comeback.

The admiration of people truly is a wonderful source of energy, especially for the artists who just finished their song for the fans.

Being able to withstand such burden makes you adore the group more and more.

You are on your way to the ITZY's waiting room. When suddenly a familiar hand grabbed you and pulled you into the corner of the backstage. There is no one here but sound and light equipment.

"What are you doing?" You said while looking at the girl in front of you. A wide smile greets you as she put her finger on your mouth to shush it.

"Oppa, don't make any noise they might hear us." Said the girl with a blonde hair named Lia. "I can't wait any longer, you said if we want to we can ask you right? Let me suck your cock now please?" Her pleading eyes is what gets you. How can an innocent looking person be this needy for someone's dick? You are here to do bodyguard related work but you always ended up fucking your clients.

You don't dare to say you regret it because many fans would kill just to sleep with their idols and here you are getting what they want for free and the idols are ones asking for it.

You nod your head to answer Lia. She immediately fell to her knees and helped you unbuckle your belt and pull your pants above your knees.

She whipped out your already throbbing cock. "It's bigger than the one in the video! How can you be so big?"

"Genetics i guess? Or maybe i'm blessed by the heavens." You answered while slapping your tip to her tongue.

"Well, if you're blessed then maybe that is the way of the heavens to make people kneel just like what I'm doing now."

You slid your cock in her mouth with very gentle rhythm, carefully testing whether the idol can do what the other can or not. She planted her nails into your legs and she starts throat fucking herself with your cock.

Watching the idol ruin herself because of lust, as you let her be consumed and devoured by her sexual desire. You moaned reflecting the pleasure she gives you, your length isn't even fit in her whole mouth.

A popping sound can be heard when she let your cock out off her mouth, she let it rest on her face as she realize that your member is bigger than the length of her head.

"Your throbbing hard cock really is huge, it's yummy Oppa." she said and continued to suck your rod once more. Lia looks at you with that lustful and needy eyes, you can't resist any further and you take control of everything.

Starting to thrust like no other, you held the back of her head to support your furious plunge making her gagged. Tears had formed in her eyes, the sound she makes and her tiny stature will make someone seriously think that you are doing something inappropriate with her.

"Your mouth is not only good at singing but also sucking dick, you slut!"

She tried to answer your remark but you didn't let her and fucked her mouth even more. Not thinking about the idols image any longer, using her as a mere tool for your own pleasure. She bobbed her head in-sync with your thrusts making the experience more ball draining.

Her pretty face is already ruined because of your vigorous fucking but that didn't make her less attractive it's quite the opposite.

"You're still beautiful even if your mouth is full with my dick." your compliment made her head bob up and down even more and continued to choke herself with your cock. Lia has a high possibility of having a 'Praise Kink'

"Shit! I'm fucking cumming Lia!"

With that, the idol prepared herself to received what the other girls have been addicted to lately, your cum. They all say it's sweet maybe because of your diet.

Your due approached and you grabbed her head, pushed her down to your cock, she didn't reach the base of your rod because of how big it is. You hold her there until you emptied into her mouth, coating her needy throat with your ropes of generous load. Her eyes were rolled back as if she attained enlightenment.

You rest your cock in her mouth for few more seconds till your last drop. She's looking at you while she plays your dick with her tongue. Lia let you see how much cum have been accumulated in her mouth and swallowed it.

"I now know why the two girls are addicted to you, your cum is delicious it is kinda sweet and you don't care if we are idols or not. You'll fuck us until we surrender to our sexual desire. I love it, Oppa!"

You patted her head. "It felt good Lia, your mouth is something else i must say. it's really good." you assured the idol and helped her stand up and gave her a kiss on her forehead, making her blushed and flustered.

"What did I just witnessed?"

Both of you looked at the one who spoked, Lia was shocked to see a Senior idol in front of her and you... well you do not care. She's Wendy a member of already established k-pop girl group called Red Velvet by SM Entertainment.

"He's our bodyguard, Sunbae!" Lia tries to explain to her senior what happened.

"I know who he is Lia-ssi, I've met him multiple times in the past. I just can't believe I'd see you here doing what you're good at again." She looked at me and Lia many times and attempts to leave but the younger idol stopped her.

"Sunbae it is consensual, so please don't report it. He didn't force me to do anything." she said while holding Wendy's wrist.

"Silly girl, of course i know it's consensual. I told you i've met him so many times in the past." Wendy slightly hugged Lia and patted her head.

Wendy left the spot that we're in and only Lia and you remain. you guide her to their waiting room and saw all of the ITZY members are inside. you just greeted them and stayed outside the door for security.

While waiting for the next schedule. You saw Red Velvet's Waiting room few doors away from you and reminded you of Son Seung-wan again, she is the only member of Red Velvet that you didn't have any physical connection with because the time you've spent with them doing bodyguard duties. The job only lasts for two weeks.

But you've been tirelessly messing with her other members almost every hour, especially Joy and Irene. The combination of the two made you a vegetable, it's like Yuna and Chaeryeong but sluttier. Meanwhile Seulgi is much more tamed and obedient. Yeri on the other hand had a boyfriend that time and don't want to cheat on him which is what couples must abide into.

For Wendy she didn't like the idea of you messing around with her co-members and stayed away from you, but you know that she also wanted what others was having.

She might say she don't but her actions betrayed her. Wendy and Seulgi share the same room and it's the same for Irene and Joy while Yeri is like a queen in her room because she's alone there and she can do whatever she wants.

Every time you fuck Seulgi senseless, Wendy will remain in their room while pretending to watch a movie and she really is watching but not the movie but you and Seulgi.

There's that one time when you and Seulgi is being intimate, she didn't even realize that she's been caught cause of how focus she is on how you plowed her roommate until she passed out. You even stood up and went to her side ordering her to suck your dick which she almost did, her tongue is already sticking out but she woke up from the trance and rushed out of the room.

Hours passed by and an SBS staff request all of the idols to go the stadium. ITZY decided to pick the ones in the higher floor and so we did. The managers didn't go with you and stayed at the staff rooms.

Lia invited you to sit beside her and so you did. The area is safe and no one will have the nerve to go on higher floor seats aside from other idols.

The music surrounds the whole place, this is a private party for idols and cameras are not allowed. Even the fans who owns fancafe's can't enter inside the premises.

Everyone is partying to the music when a group of girls came to your spot. it was Red Velvet.

"I told you he is here." Wendy said in a smug face, it looks like the other members didn't believe her. You stand up to greet them and so is ITZY.

"Hello seonbaes!" ITZY greets the senior girlgroup and they greeted them back.

"Oppa! I thought you'll stay abroad, i didn't expect to see you here." A woman suddenly hugged you and almost got out-of-balance because of it. Familiar scent envelops your sense of smell, her perfume is still the same. It was Joy.

You felt her chest rubbing into your own, still the same naughty woman. She let you go to for you to greet the other member, you gave each one of them a hug.

Seulgi is always the one who is quiet and waiting for her turn. Your mouth went for her neck and you marked with a hickey. Which she received well.

Yeri on the other hand became much more assertive on things. The moment you went in for a hug, the idol hugged you and she put her hand on your crotch. It's quick and impressive she whipped out your cock and started stroking it.

As far as you know she is still with her boyfriend but this is what she want so you let her.

She knelt down and put your cock in her mouth. Sucking it so passionately.

All of the girls were shocked and immediately blocked the two of you. Well, because of your height you are still visible.

"Kim Yeri what are you doing?!" Said Irene. Even she was shocked.

"I just want to taste it. All of you are addicted to this big fucking cock unnie. I want to know why, i already got my answer." Yeri continued to suck you off and stopped cause her jaw hurts.

"Seonbae you guys know Oppa too? In that extent?" Ryujin tried to pry why they didn't seem to mind that much what happened.

All of the Red Velvet members nod in unison. After Yeri had her unexpected FUN, you put your erected cock back in your pants which is not easy.

You proceed to greet the remaining people and hug them.

Your hug to Irene is much longer than the others. "Why did you let that brat do that? Pervert!" You just chuckled and act like its not your fault. "Still tall and handsome as ever huh?" Irene spoke.

"And still beautiful as ever huh noona?" as you lean back to see her face.

"I told you don't call me that, You are my Oppa. I belong only to you remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know baby." You gave her a kiss on her lips and proceed to hug Wendy.

She flinch because of the unexpected hug and she also felt your boner that isn't subsided yet but she return it eventually. "Hello Gorgeous!" you said while still hugging her.

"Gorgeous my ass! You are still the same."

"Your ass? I think they are gorgeous too!" your hands travelled from her back to her bottom and the moment you found the treasure you caress it gently, she whimper trying to hide her face on your chest.

"Once a pervert, always a pervert!" her hug tighten and it looks like she won't let go.

"So, you two got very close eventually huh?" Joy's voice interrupted your most awaited physical contact with Wendy.

"Yeah! So what?" You replied and let go of the woman in front of you and lean towards her ear to say something to her. "Should we continue what should've happen that day if you didn't run away from me?"

No words came out of her mouth but she nodded as an answer. Looks like she also looking forward in meeting you one day.

The other girls already finished their own personal greetings and now we are seated here in the higher floor and a less crowded side of the stadium, it's dark but not totally.

Lia is on your right and Wendy to your left. the younger idols are enjoying the party like it's their last day on Earth.

"Wendy, can you suck it for me please?" You are bold to your request. Your boner is already hurting. she look at you for a few seconds and she stand up from her chair to kneel in front you.

"Oooh! Looks like someone is eager to try the huge snake hiding beneath the clothes." Joy got the attention of others because of her remark. they proceed to watch what's going to happen. Even the ITZY members are waiting for it.

"Just make sure not to get caught." Irene added.

Your cock is already out and it's still wet because of Yeri. Wendy is now stroking your cock, her pace is not unbearably slow nor fast. It's perfect! Then she licks your shaft up and down. The girls reacts when Wendy sucked not just your dick but also your balls. You don't know where she learnt any of these but it makes your dick even harder.

"S-shit Wendy! Where did you learn to do that?" you said while moaning because of pleasure. Wendy is not the type of person that sleeps with just anyone.

Wendy sucks your dick with more intensity, she's starting to gain a pace and confidence, her drool is covering your shaft as she vehemently bobbed her head to your cock. You grabbed her head and starts violating the poor idols mouth like giving her a punishment.

"So it begins, hehe!" Joy patiently watching as i fuck her friend's throat like i did to her and the other idols.

"gawk... gawk... gawk" is the only sound that you can hear coming from Wendy. The Stadium's music don't matter to you or any of you.

You let Wendy's hands rest on your thighs while you fuck her face, her eyes are glued to you and her make up slowly getting ruined each time the tip of your cock touches the back of her throat, making both of you moan out of pleasure.

"Baby i'm cumming!" her eyes sparkles the moment you utter those words. She grabbed your thighs tightly as you pushed her head towards your throbbing and raging cock.

She blinked multiple times when your thick cum starts gushing out of your cock into her mouth. You can feel her tongue moving and trying to taste your load but no avail because your liquid is directly flowing to her stomach. All she can do is continue gulping.

You gave her a chance to at least taste your baby batter, the final three spurts landed in her mouth. Just like the rest, she showcase your cum and swallow all of it.

Your still erected cock lies on Wendy's face and the idol is just there letting it rest and looking at you.

"That's was so hot not gonna lie!" Joy and Yeri said in unison.

While the others are busy taking photos in a low light to prevent other people to actually see what transpired in your location. They giggled because of how the photos came to be.

Lustful yet passionate.

"Your mouth felt good, baby!"

"And your dick is so big you perverted bastard. I thought i was going to die. You keep choking me!"

"We are not done, come follow me outside." the other girls reacted wildly because of what you said. holding Wendy on her wrist pulling her. You walk through number of floors and doors ended up in an isolated room with basic furniture such as couch, tables, and other chairs.

You already know the layout of the stadium because this place is your typical work field when you're doing bodyguard duties.

Irene followed you to ensure that no one else in tailing you. "This is a nice spot, Oppa!" Irene said while looking around the room.

You didn't waste any more time and let the two of them kneel down to suck your cock once again. Wendy is kneeling to your right and in the opposite side is Irene.

Both of them were traversing your long shaft with their tongues to the top of your cock, they are moving in unison passionately kissing and licking both of your length and balls.

Wendy is now more daring in her assault. While the oldest choke herself from your big hard cock, the younger one find her way into your back entrance and started licking you there.

"Oooh, you are so daring Wendy! I like it! Irene deliberately stopping her onslaught on your cock just to compliment Wendy for her boldness.

You jolted because Wendy is performing a rimjob. "Now i-aahh, shit! i'm really curious on h-how and where did you l-learn any these." making yourself a bit more horny by the second.

"I didn't do anything with anyone, i just watch porn and learned how to do it. i barely even contain myself earlier when i saw you fucking Lia's face. I learn it for you, pervert!"

You stopped Irene from devouring your hard rod any further and carry Wendy into the couch and put her on a missionary, Irene spit on your cock again and again so that it will slid inside easily.

"I tried using dildos in our room, but i didn't order oversize ones cause i want your dick to destroy me and not those toys." Wendy confesses and it made you happy. "Please use my tight little pussy as you see fit, Daddy!"

You took Wendy's and Irene's clothes off and now of them are naked, flaunting both of their treasure. Irene's tits is much bigger than Wendy and yet both of them are reasonable in size. They are both firm and delicate. They both possess such flawless silky white skin in contrast to your slightly tanned yet firm skin.

"Daddy? I didn't expect that you had it in you Wendy, i'm so proud of you! Should i call you that too? Daddy." Irene said teasing you with her alluring voice and vexing body as she watches you preparing yourself to indulge into something so exquisite. Irene grabbed your head and pushed it against her tits making you suck her nipples.

She moaned like a total slut while caressing your head. Meanwhile Wendy is massaging her clit watching the two of you be intimate.

Irene stopped and let you devour the feast in front of you, she knows Wendy is still a virgin for a huge dick like yours.

"I'm going to put it in now, baby. bare with it." as you slowly slid your cock into her virgin cunt, her face starts showing a sign of pain when your cock is already half through.

"So fucking tight!" making sure she won't get hurt that badly.

"F-fuck, it's so big! it's all in finally!" she said.

"Oh not yet, little bitch. It's only half of it." Irene replied while hiding her laughter.

"What? There's more?! Gggh~ ahhh! FUCK!!" she gasped when you thrust suddenly and let her tight little cunt devour your rod completely.

"It hurts? Should i pull out?" you asked.

"No, please! Uh.. Let me adjust and get used to it first. I don't want to ruin this moment, ruin this for the three of us."

You're kissing Wendy and Irene one after the other, you can feel Wendy's passageway to loosen up a bit as you continue to stimulate her.

"I'm okay now D-daddy, please move!" Wendy said and you did what she asked. Few minutes of testing the waters and you started thrusting in more powerful way.

"Fuck Daddy your cock is so huge. such a big fucking cock! you are stretching me out aaah!~" Wendy began cursing and talking such vulgar words. She's getting fucked by a huge dick that even she couldn't imagine of receiving.

You changed position while your dick is still in her. You're plowing her in the back now and you are going deeper because it.

"Daddy you're so deep! Sh-shit! I think you are in my uterus. Fuck! you're going too deep! I can feel you in my stomach!" her moaning still sounds angelic like her singing voice and it's making you to fuck her more.

Her height and stature is small compare to you so it's easy for you to lift her up. You position her into full nelson, your favorite style even your clients in the past up to present still can't get over how you fuck them senseless in that vulgar position.

Irene saw through your intention and brought her phone out and ofcourse to start recording. She already knows that it's a trophy for another conquest, she has multiple videos of your past client getting plowed in that manner.

Wendy is surprise because of how easy for you to lift her, you placed each one of your arm to the back of her knees and your hands are already locked behind her neck.

You started plowing her again with more intensity, her moans become louder and louder. You are fucking her so hard that sound your body colliding as you thrust into her keeps echoing in the room.

Irene finished her little recording and dialed the girls to let them watch.

"Oooh! She's getting fucked real good there Unnie!" Joy has amazement in her voice and the other girls with her seems to be excited too. You can hear their voice cheering you to fuck Wendy more.

"Daddy! Please please please! You are so deep in me. Fuck! Use me! SHIT USE ME DAAADDDYYY!" Wendy squirting so much but you didn't stop pounding her, she's now half awake. the sound of her rich ass colliding with your body filled the room and made it look like a porn studio.

"I'm cumming you squirting slut!" you rammed her yet again waking her up.

"Yes! Breed me daddy. Fill me up! S-shit! i want your seed flowing inside me please please!" With that, your cum gushed out from your cock filling her up. You pulled out your still erected cock from her and you saw how it overflow, it's leaking.

Wendy passed out without realizing that the other girls are watching her getting railed so intensely, she changed into a different person whose instinct in to breed only.

"It's my turn now right Daddy?" Irene can't contain herself anymore. You can see how wet she is, you made her wait for so long.

"Of course come here baby, spread your legs for me in the couch!" and she did what you asked. she immediately position herself in the couch, legs spread and waiting like a total slut.

You didn't bother with the foreplay cause she's so wet and her ass is already lubricated so you straight up rail her in the ass and thrusting your whole length inside of her.

Wendy's moans were replaced by hers and it equally pleasing to the ears. You didn't hold back and showed her how much she deserved to be fuck hard because of her patience.

"Yes daddy! Fuck yes. I missed your huge cock so much! Please keep fucking me like this even if i eventually get married." She moans relentlessly saying such triggering words only makes you go even harder.

"I thought you hate men you slut!?" you're choking her neck with a normal grip of your hands, she seems to like it every time you did this to her.

"Yes i hate men, but not you. You may aaaah~ may be fucking so many women but you didn't do anything bad to us, instead yo- FUCK RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE!!! SHIT!! instead you protected u-us and gave us a sense of security. i'll let you fuck me everywhere even we are in public. Fuck! SO PLEASE USE ME MY ASS! DESTROY ME DADDY!" She is taking your huge cock in her ass like a champ. You've been fucking her ass ever since your first day of being their bodyguard. You basically molded her insides to the shape of your dick.

"Spit in my mouth please! Please! Daddy! I want you to violate me please! FUCK!" She kept on begging you to spit in her mouth so you did while here eyes were rolled back and her tongue is sticking out.

"I'm cumming now baby! Where do you want it?!" your hands stopped choking her to let her breathe then you proceed to slap her face to asked her again. "Where? Tell me!"

"Cum in my ass daddy please! It's your personal fleshlight, fill my ass with your thick load aaahh~"

And with that signal, you release a series of generous amount of load into the ass of one of the beautiful or the most beautiful k-pop artist of all time. Bae Joo-hyun

Both of them are were completely ruined and yet they are happy, you saw Irene's phone still in the videocall with the girls they all saw how you fucked the two them. You decided to bid them farewell and end the call.

It's time to clean up this mess before anyone came in here.

"What the fuck is this?!"

You were picking their things when you heard someone yelled in the door, you saw her figure and you were stunned to speak.

"IT'S YOU!?" Both of you shouted in unison

[essentiallyleaf]

day 13. blindfold kink. with. irene.

446 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, blindfold kink(/fetish/is this even a thing?), sex toys(?), ass play (reader receiving), you are basically just the guy from the peek-a-boo mv, but in a fantasy setting, horror undertones, happy (or, spoopy?) friday the 13th, tags are hard.

notes.

just winging it at this point. improvisedly, leaf.

The last thing you see, before she positions herself behind the wooden chair you’re sitting on and tied to and removes her red top to knot it around your head as a blindfold, are Irene’s swamp green witch eyes. Green like the rage she has stored up for the people who banished her, or maybe green like the hope that tonight will be the start of a new life for her, and only because of you.

“There is one last ingredient that I need to gather from you, boy, and then my brew will be complete.” Not many ingredients she would need to strip you naked to get, you figure. “But where’s the fun in that?”

You shiver as you feel a razor’s blade slide down your cheekbone to your jaw, then as her sharp canines repeatedly bite around the side of your waist, and again as her warm, grease-covered digits wrap around your already erect length, all the sensations accentuated by your lack of vision.

“Not so fast, boy. We’ll need the purest specimen of your seed. And to get that,” you hear sounds of metallic objects dropping onto the thick walnut table, “we’ll follow a special procedure”

The witch opens your legs wider and drags your butt closer to the edge of the chair, then you feel a cold, wet sphere press against your puckered hole. You groan in pain, but no sound leaves your throat.

“Sorry, boy, I’d love to hear everything you want to say later, but right now, I just need my sample. So be nice and quick, and give me what I ask for”

You can only try your best to endure the pain in silence, as the orb is forced (your vision is impaired, so it doesn’t require a lot of focus for you to visualize it) deeper and deeper in your hole, seemingly not needing to be pushed by her fingers. When it reaches your prostate, you feel a surge of electricity propagate through your body. As the sphere starts massaging all around your sensitive spot, Irene’s hand envelops your erection once again, and with a couple swipes of her long, soft, oily digits along your shaft, you give her what she’s looking for. Buckets on buckets of white nectar are squeezed out of you only to be collected in a long, thin glass jar as you scream in silence from the still ongoing stimulation on your p-spot.

“Perfect, boy, now bear with me as I make the brew complete and initiate the ritual. You don’t mind attending to it from there, right? Worry not, for I’ll be back soon; so many more nights of ceremonies are awaiting us”

-

footnotes.

i might be going insane. slowly, leaf.

[sassyjoy]

once again

genre: smut

part 1: paradise

word count: 2.6k

⋆｡˚ ⋆ ☾

"do you think everyone knew already?" 

"knew what?" 

"peaches? that thing happened in the storage room?" you said hastily. 

"why would everyone know that we had sex?" joy laughs. 

"because someone saw us? i definitely heard the door closing. is this situation funny to you?" 

"if you're that anxious, you should have gone back to the city when you had the chance." 

"what?" 

joy looks at you, "your aunt's already back. you were only supposed to work here for a week, remember?" 

"and besides, don't you have a job back home? why did you extend your visit here when you originally planned only to stay here for seven days?" 

"to worry if someone has seen us screwing in that secluded area of the storage room?" you immediately covered joy's mouth upon hearing what she said. you looked around if anyone was near, nervous that someone caught the words slipped past her lips. 

she removed your hand on her face and asked, "are we done? can i continue doing my job now?" 

"aren't you afraid of the idea that someone might saw us? aren't you afraid of that news being known by everyone? aren't you close with them? aren't you worried that your 'godly' image will be tainted?" you asked consecutively that made her look at you with furrowed eyebrows. 

she took one step closer to you and said, "i am not afraid if someone saw me getting railed. i don't really care if that 'person' spread that news to everyone. i mean, who cares? what's wrong with having sex?" 

"stop worrying over nothing. you're just overreacting." joy said when she gave you a playful smack on your arm to ease your mind. 

"was that sex too good for you to be concerned?" joy laughs before fleeing the place. she did not even look to see how dumbfounded you are to her remark. she's being cocky when you're about to lose your mind.

you've been annoying her for days now since you had sex with her in the storage room, but she's just giving you her displeased look, obvious that she's not amused by what you're saying. 

you extended your stay in the province for another week and your auntie was more than pleased to hear that. she thought that you enjoyed doing farm work, but what she didn't know is that you had more fun doing joy. you can't seem to forget that day. she was great; you loved every second with her during that moment. 

you were actually more worried by the idea that someone has seen joy naked in that cold room instead of you being seen doing the actual deed. the moment you saw her nude body, you knew that it shouldn't be shared with others and that it shouldn't be seen by anyone except you. most of the workers in the farm were men; they would probably imagine her flesh as they jack off. that's what you believe in since you had already done that just by thinking of her.

you wanted to have sex with her again, but you couldn't find the perfect timing. every time you were about to ask her, someone would talk to her about something nonsense. you were about to think that everyone approaches her wants to get in her pants. 

one time, you were assigned in cleaning the dining area together as your group finished lunch when someone came to get her so you were all alone doing the dishes. she clocked out early because of that. is that person someone important to her? that she left her job in the afternoon to be with him for the rest of the day? when you asked your co-workers who that was, they said it's the veterinarian whom joy is close with. his name is youngwoo. 

the following day, youngwoo came to visit the farm again. he kept chatting with joy and for some reason you find that very annoying. you haven't even had a chance to talk to her in the morning as youngwoo wouldn't leave her side for a minute. 

〰️

it was your day off, but your aunt asked you to give a deliver a package somewhere. she said it was urgent so you immediately left the area to take it. the drop off place isn't far, probably a 10-minute walk from where you are staying? you pressed the doorbell and to your surprise, it was joy who opened the door. so this is where she lives. 

"what are you doing here?" she asked as she opened the door. she was wearing this white shirt that almost reached her knee and maybe shorts underneath it? you're not sure since she's wearing an oversized tee and you can't see her outfit fully. 

you handed her a small parcel, "my aunt asked me to give you this." you were about to leave when joy called your name. 

"hey, wanna come inside?" 

her place is small, but it's perfect for someone who lives alone. you could tell that she loves scented candles as there were some placed on the table. you were amazed at how clean her home is. her books are arranged and her plants have their designated spot and not just they were placed around in the room. there is a huge stuffed toy beside her bed and you wonder if she has ever used that to please herself. 

you were just looking around her unit minutes ago and here you are letting joy sit on your lap. you were kissing each other, obvious how thirsty you were to one another. her legs were wrapped around your waist, and her arms around your nape, not wanting to let you go.

the kissing session went steamy. both of you were touchy. you kept caressing her back down to her butt over her shorts to squeeze it. joy, on the other hand, kept on grinding her clothed sex on your bulge. she's wearing black shorts with thin fabric so she can feel how hard you are in your pants. 

"your lips are so soft." you whispered in her ear, trailing the kisses to her neck that made her eyes shutter close. your hands traveled inside her oversized shirt and made its way to her breasts and to your surprise, she isn't wearing a bra. joy cupped your face to kiss you again. she nibbled your lower lip as you play with her nipples beneath her shirt. you just love how perfect her breasts were in size. it feels like they are made just to fit in your hands so you can play with it. 

you were about to remove her shirt when a sound of the doorbell was heard. the two of you quickly pulled away from each other, surprised at what you had just heard. joy pulled down her shirt as she went off your lap. she hurriedly fixed her hair before opening the door. 

"youngwoo? hey, what are you doing here?" joy asked youngwoo who came unannounced. you went near the door that made joy push you onto the side so you won't be seen by her guest. the door is still partly opened, and you're guessing joy doesn't want to let him in. the idea of joy not wanting youngwoo to come over inside and you being invited makes you laugh. 

"you forgot this at my clinic yesterday." youngwoo said and you can see a paper bag being handed to joy. she looked at what's inside and her cheeks turned red that made you curious on what she received. 

"i think you pushed that under my table when someone came in yesterday."

joy threw the bag away, but you were quick to catch it. her eyes went big at what you did, nervous that youngwoo might see you. 

"i still can't believe you just pulled down your skirt and left without your underwear." he chuckled. you dropped the bag on the floor upon seeing what's inside. you scoffed when you realized what was happening. 

"what's that noise?" her unwanted guest asked as he tried to look inside her apartment. but joy was swift to cover his view. 

"uh, nothing!" she signaled you to move back to your hiding spot. 

"hey, i'm really busy right now- i'll call you later. bye!" joy said before closing the door. youngwoo wasn't even able to bid goodbye when the door was shut. joy quickly picked up the bag on the floor and before she even placed it somewhere, you found yourself kissing and pinning her on her door. 

you haven't heard any footsteps leaving joy's unit. you knew that youngwoo is still there outside. maybe he's waiting for joy to come out again? is he expecting that he's fucking joy tonight? that their 'unfinished business' yesterday will resume? well, too bad. you're the one fucking her today. he must've done everything to her when he had the chance. 

you hurriedly pulled down her shorts and underwear to only see her pussy already wet. you're only kissing, but she's already this wet? you wonder if youngwoo has the same effect on her. 

you didn't think twice and just shoved your mouth on her core. it was smooth and plump, and you love every part of it. joy is pleased with what you are doing to her. you could tell that you are doing a great job eating her out when she started grinding on your face. you held her waist to be in place. she moaned loud when you suck her hard. you love how she tastes. 

"is that all you can do? fuck me with your mouth?" joy said as she held your hair as if her life depended on it. you went back to her lips and she could taste herself from your mouth. 

"why? hasn't youngwoo fucked you good enough?" you inserted a finger inside her dripping pussy that made joy open her mouth out of surprise. she didn't see that coming.

"is he that bad? that you invited me inside so we can fuck?" you added another finger causing her to hold onto your shoulder for support. her knees weaken as you continue to hit her spot inside her cunt. 

"or you just wanted me to fuck you until you can't walk again?" you said while joy shut her eyes tightly. you felt hot liquid on your fingers, and when you looked down, you saw her squirt. she released a heavy sigh when you pulled out your fingers. 

"just... just fuck me already." joy said breathlessly. you made her suck your fingers coated with her cum and you find her pretty as she gladly tastes herself off your fingers. 

joy watched as you remove your pants and briefs. she saw how your dick sprung out of your underwear, hard and with veins poking out. she momentarily forgot how big you are and how she had a hard time walking after you had sex. 

you made her face the cold wall of her room and without any warning, you filled her hole with your long and thick cock. this position is definitely one of her favorites. doggy style. she matched your thrusts with moans. you gave her ass a slap and you saw the mark it left on her right cheek. your left hand is on her waist, steadying her as you fuck her, while your right hand wander over her body. 

"please... please fuck me harder." joy says as you continue to pound into her fat ass. your hand reached for her breast beneath her oversized shirt and gave it a light squeeze. joy removed the remaining fabric she's wearing making you smirk as you don't have to tell her what you wanted to do.

"you're so fucking tight!" you slapped her butt causing her to whimper. you leaned forward and placed soft kisses on her shoulder. as you continue to rock your pelvis on her ass, you held her dark long hair in your fist and yanked it downwards. joy could hear the slapping sounds from her behind as you kept pounding deeper and deeper. 

"touch me... right there." joy moaned when you cupped her breasts and played with her hardened nipples. her eyes were about to roll behind because of the pleasure she was feeling. you loved how messy she looked when you fucked her last time, and it just turns you even more now that you're seeing that version of her again. 

"does he fuck you like this?" you whispered in her ear as you punctuate each word with a hard thrust. you shoved your cock more, hitting a certain spot that made her moan loudly. 

"no- shit!" joy answered before tucking her lower lip under her teeth. you love the way your cock slips in and out of her cunt easily. you're addicted to how tight her hole is. this is probably the reason why you have decided to extend your stay in the province. you can't get enough more of her body. 

"joy?" a loud knock was heard from outside of the door. you both knew it was youngwoo. he's been there for minutes already. you wonder if he already has the idea that joy is getting railed in her apartment. 

youngwoo kept calling joy but the latter couldn't care less. the only thing joy cares about is how hard and good you're drilling each inch of your thick dick inside her and that how rough you're fucking her. 

"seems like i'm not the only one who likes your body, huh?" your pelvis slaps against her ass, making her perky breasts, butt cheeks and thighs jiggle. other men in the farm would definitely do anything just to be in your position right now. it's visible that they're lusting over joy's sexy body whenever she's working with them. it's funny how they've been working with her for months already, but you got to fuck her before them and you're just staying here temporarily. 

"fuckkk!" few more pumps and joy orgasms first. you felt her clench around you as you keep thrusting into her. you placed your hands on her waist, too focused on filling her with your cock. her legs are shaking, feeling weak as you keep crashing onto her pussy. you've resisted for as long as you can until hot spurts of cum were released from your cock. joy felt your cum dripping down to her legs when you loaded it inside her cunt. 

she lied down on the floor, her pussy still throbbing from the intense activity. her hair was all around her face and you could tell that she got tired as she was still breathless and some sweat dripped from her chest. 

"let's clean up first." you chuckled when you didn't get a response from joy. you picked her up like she weighs nothing, and she was too surprised by your action that she quickly held onto your nape. 

"what? you sore?" she slaps your chest upon hearing what you said.

"isn't it obvious?" 

"sorry, can't help but to fuck you hard." you laughed, knowing you did that because you knew that there's a chance that youngwoo heard both of your moans. maybe if he heard that he'd stop pestering joy and you'll be able to have her all on your own. and speaking of youngwoo, it seems like he left midway your intercourse. it's funny how you fucked joy too well that she forgot that he knocked when you're having sex earlier. 

you entered the bathroom and gently placed her down. you proceeded to open the faucet of the shower to clean her. you were telling the truth when you said that you'll clean her up, but an idea just popped into your mind.

“shit- stop…” joy moaned when she felt your finger teasing her pussy. you kissed her shoulder and her nails dug on your skin as she started to lose her senses again. “just my fingers, i promise.” you whispered. she bit her lower lip, which you find very hot, then you added another finger and started fingering her faster.

[iznsfw]

Fic idea: Mommy contest eunbi vs irene

Predator & Prey

Part Four of Dulce Periculum | Previous Part | Next Chapter

Red Velvet's Bae Joohyun (Irene) x IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

7,994 words

Categories | principal!Irene x (jealous)girlfriend!Eunbi x student!You, mommy kink, cunnilingus, oral double blowjob, snowballing, cumswap, degradation, female cucking

Surprise, it was a spoiler! Had to move the time to avoid posting in the night lol So... this is dedicated to @subfortwice, who ignites the Dulce Periculum universe, @idevian whose tutor Eunbi ask started it all, to my birthday twin @eunbisrabbit who had the idea of the collarbone thing, and to best boi @sinswithpleasure. I appreciate everything and every one of you guys! And again, sorry for the usual self-indulgent style that the whole Dulce Periculum series is based on XD and the barely edited fic. Eunrene just drive me crazy

“You little brat.”

That’s the first thing you say the next time you see Eunbi at school. Not even a “hi” or a “how are you,” but when she’s set you up to fuck her teacher and led you into a trap, it’s definitely a nice way to open your little story. This tiny little thing of a story going down, down, down the rabbit hole. 

(Holes.)

It’s all her fault. She’s conveniently fended off your questioning of the incident at the Kwon household. Now, however, with her parents nowhere to save her from your schemes, you’ve got your eyes on her. Soon, your hands will be, too. She can’t escape now. 

Eunbi squeals in fear and excitement when you run after her. Alright, so maybe she can escape. That’s fair. You bump through masses of walking students, trying to find her in the crowd. It's impossible to not identify her when her glasses and wavy hair give her away, so your eyes remain locked on her like a sniper. Your hands just itch to get on her. 

Students pass you weird and amused looks. You and Eunbi, after all, are always on some dumb shit. However, you care not for it especially if ignoring them leads you to finally cornering your girlfriend in the backyard school garden. It's a dead end—no windows or doors are here for her to attract help. She's laughing, too, and screaming a little as you pin her to the high school building wall. 

"Mmm, oppa," she giggles between her squirms and struggles, "stop—"

"You think you were slick, Eunbi?" you ask. Your fist keeps her wrists above her head. What a pretty little twist of fate—if she lured you into the trap that's Kim Taeyeon, now you're the one tying her up into your makeshift trap. It's more satisfying than seeing Jo Yuri get scolded. "For whoring me out to that teacher you're so obsessed with?"

She nods mindlessly. "Yesss."

"Brat." Kiss her. She giggles. Of course, that prompts several other kisses. "That's what you are, you know. A little fucking brat." 

Your chest fills with happiness at how she smiles and laughs despite your teasing words. She knows you'd never do anything to hurt her. It's all a little fun play of words. A little skit, to be more truthful. 

Speaking of, there's some factualness to your words, too, and she knows it. Eunbi's crushed on Taeyeon for too long and sees her as an actual mommy that she isn't jealous of your little getaway with her at all. She's probably prouder than you'd assume of her idea. 

But of course, she denies it. Denies it with every inch of her annoyingly gorgeous body.

"Can you please forgive me, oppa?" Eunbi's eyes gleam. "I promise I won't slut you out to mommy again, I pinky promise!"

She's wearing the uniform Taeyeon borrowed, and thinking of how there's still some of your teacher on it, that there's a good amount of your cum embedded into its fabric, makes you more turned on than you should. Eunbi with her arms up in her tiny uniform is an added factor. 

But then there's also a few more classes to attend. You can't fuck her here. You'd love to more than anything, yet Eunbi has her priorities, and you don't want to hold her back.

Release her hands. "One day I'll get back at you," you warn. "You're really gonna get it."

You let her off with a warning. You can be the cop here—you'd cuff her hands with your fingers, tack them to a wall or mattress, teach her a lesson. Tear that cheeky smile off her face and replace it with the lewdest expression. But you're a good cop, or at least, as good as one can get. You know it's what she wants: to be punished incessantly, so you're not giving it to her. It would be putting out fire with fire.

You turn her heel to leave. Like so, you leave her unfulfilled and needy, which is exactly how you want her to be.

"Oppa!" whines Eunbi. She runs after you. "I'm sorry!"

You shut your eyes and laugh. In hindsight, you really shouldn't have. It would have shown you a dash of a shadow mooring and watching, and prepared you for what will happen later on. 

-

Let's just say later on a letter is written. You and Eunbi don't know it yet, but there is a letter—it's written in rehearsed formality, sent to the principal's office, and given by a person who's got more control than they should have. 

So, again, just for context: there's real parchment sent to her that ties this whole story together. There's a dual meeting, and a whole lot of evidence. Keep that in mind.

-

It's one giant teenage hell in the classroom.

The boys are gaming on their phones with the Filipino exchange student, who introduced them to League of Legends. The girls have flocked to the bathrooms arm in arm, while the others stay behind to braid some of their classmates’ hair. There’s messy chalked writing on the blackboard, some too explicit to even be allowed (“Wan-pipty for wan subo," courtesy of the Filipino student, of course, and although you don’t understand his language, you have a good idea of what it means), and others promoting their favorite K-pop groups (“stan BLACKPINK, you uncultured fucks!!!!!”, to which someone has replied: “Doesn’t everyone?”).

But what else can you expect from a batch of eighteen-year-olds, especially when it’s vacant time? 

That's right: exactly this.

Either-which-way, it’s a complete mess, is what you’re saying. There's no one around to keep the noisy mess contained, not even Eunbi, who's trying to vent her frustration through doodling on her notebook. She’s already drawn several plotless comics and a rabbit named Bi, but the noise still gets to her. It irks her soul so much that her hands squeeze up and loosen too much of a grasp on her pen.

Click. It bounces back up. You catch it with one swoop of your hand. You could be Spiderman in another life. Watch out, Tom Holland, or whatever. 

“God,” she says, looking up from her notebook with a frustrated, sarcastic smile, “do these people ever shut up?”

You chuckle. You’re an open fan of Eunbi breaking her kind, forgiving character and just growing tired of everyone’s bullshit. It’s an occurrence rarer than thunder coming before lightning, a once-in-a-lifetime show only a select few are allowed to see. She’s too kind, really, that although she's the lead role, she bails out of it often.

Gesture to the messy classroom and say, in a matter-of-fact voice: “Welcome to senior year.”

“Can you tell them to be quiet?” she asks.

“Miss Myoui said only you can.” Quote her: “‘You’re the president, right? You go tell ‘em.’”

Right, Eunbi says to herself. She’s been wrapped up in too many responsibilities—captain of the volleyball team, president of every school club you can think of, plus end-of-the-year valedictorian just to name a few—that she forgets that these positions even hold meaning. It’s the norm for her to be given the highest positions in each category that it’s quite tiring, if she were to be honest. But she has her mother to please, along with herself. She can’t let either of them down.

Sighing, she leans back into her chair. “I just wish everything would, like, stop for a moment.” She closes her eyes, as if to dream of that being possible. Unfortunately, the world goes on with or without the fantasizing. “I wish I could get a break.”

“Hey.” You pat her thigh and caress it above her short school skirt. “Cheer up. You don’t have to be so excellent all the time. You can just,” wring a hand in the air for emphasis, “you know, be okay. Average.”

“But my mom…” 

Sigh. You realize it’s easier said than done. While your parents are lenient and have gotten used to your low grades, your girlfriend’s aren’t that nice. You know that from your visits to the Kwon household. Her mother and father try to be subtle about the pressure, but there’s something in the air that passes and tenses that tells you there’s a lot more to the situation than you think. Whatever it is, it's clear that being a Kwon isn't that fun.

Sometimes you wish you could trade places with Eunbi and withstand her problems for her. You hate seeing her like this. 

“Your mom?” a menacing new voice asks. “Or would you rather say… mommy?”

Eunbi’s eyes open suddenly and enlarge. She recognizes that word, and unfortunately, she remembers using it on someone she shouldn't have been with. So do you, for which you turn your gaze upwards. 

Of course it’s Jo Yuri. She’s your mortal enemy dressed in deceiving innocent school uniform. She’s wearing a knowing smile on her face. It always means bad news, and right now, the main topic of it is you. 

What does she know? Most importantly: why did she say that? 

In your anxiety, you can’t even defend yourself or your girlfriend.

“Y-Yuri—” stammers Eunbi, the look in her eyes being one of a deer caught in headlights. She’s a terrible liar at heart, so even if she were able to finish her sentence, it would have come out oddly. Probably even add up to proof of her guilt.

Yuri smirks proudly. “I know all about your dirty little secret, Eunbi,” she says. “About what you did with professor Kim while everyone was at the Intrams… about what you called her…”

Every step she takes rounding your cluster spells trouble, and you can’t say you didn’t bring it upon yourself. However, you're still scared to death.

“Cut it,” you say. Even for a troublemaker, your voice trembles. Not a good look… er, sound, rather. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your head races with anxious thoughts and distress. How did Yuri know about that little session you had with Taeyeon? Were you guys that loud? Perhaps she had a source or spy nearby? You've no idea which one it is, and that's what scares you more than the consequences.

Eunbi's silent, refusing to speak. She looks anywhere but Yuri's eyes. Her ears are red and it's impossible to denote anything from the two of you but obvious guilt.

“Oh, is that so?” Yuri pouts mockingly. "Guess you'll have no reason to talk to principal Bae right"—she checks her watch, then smiles widely—"now."

The speaker attached to the wall of your classroom buzzes, catches the attention of everyone and says: "Will miss Kwon from 12-A and her boyfriend please come down to the principal's office?"

Okay, so maybe you are scared of the consequences just as much as you're scared of how Yuri found out.

Everyone's looking at you now. How could you feel so cold yet so hot at the same time? Everybody's eyes are burning holes in your skin, and your spine's undergone several chills that you feel numb already. 

Are you even alive? 

Your breaths are bated and Eunbi's shifting in her seat nervously. You should have seen this happening. Yuri's had a vendetta against the two of you ever since you and Eunbi got together. She's haughty, she's proud, she's rich—and for that, she's got her sources everywhere, can even manipulate official school results through pure influence. You hate yourself for being a terrible boyfriend and letting this happen to Eunbi. 

Yuri smiles as you and Eunbi rise from your seats. She waves goodbye at you coyly, and leaves everyone in the room confused. Each one of them, even the boys gaming at the back, are wondering the same thing word-for-word: what happened?

-

You don't speak while taking the stairs with her, and neither does she. You don't tell her that you're dizzy from the curving paths and she doesn't say how cold her hands are. However, you both know so, since you're both reluctant and afraid to meet the principal and didn't expect it to reach this point. It's your fault and hers, equally split, the modern day Adam and Eve. Could Yuri be the snake? Would God banish you? 

Probably, but you had it coming.

The steps you take are slow. You're afraid of what might come. But you suppose nobody's more afraid than Eunbi. She's the face of the school for the honors she's achieved. Everything can go wrong with one wrong move, and that's what this is. She put everything on the line, not expecting anything to happen, only for it to be taken all away.

Once you reach the ground floor, Eunbi suddenly grabs your wrist. Her small hand can only wrap around half of it, but her hold is tight. It carries meaning in its tightness, urging you to look at her.

"Oppa, j-just want to say…" She looks down at her school shoes in shame. "I'm sorry for pulling you into this."

You're not mad at her. You can never be. You're just… regretful. If you hadn't let lust propel your actions, maybe there wouldn't be reason for the two of you to be down here. You've been sent to the principal's office countless times, but this is the first time you're actually scared. What more when it's with Eunbi? She's never gotten in trouble before.

"Don't be," is all you say. "Let's just get it over with, okay? Together?" 

Mold your hand to fit hers, and she's smiling again, in spite of what's about to come.

You make the first move to knock. Eunbi nearly cries as she watches your knuckles meet wood. You wrap an arm around her and enter.

Long time, no see. Bae Irene's office is as grand as ever. Seems like this is where the tuition fees go: grand marble floors, a statue of a naked Greek goddess, and a fine desk that sits in the center of the room. Certificates, awards, and medals stack the shelves and walls that put even Eunbi's achievements to shame. Perhaps they're what intimidate her more than the woman standing in front of the desk.

"Good afternoon, miss Bae," you say. 

In certain angles, the principal looks just like Eunbi. Or maybe it's the other way around? The glasses don't help differentiate them. That makes you understand why people have a theory that there's a kind of narcissism in Irene that made her put Eunbi as the face of the school. 

What else can you expect from Irene, anyway? She's older, wiser, and tougher. The last one bears repeating. That by itself should be good enough justification as to why you shouldn't have fucked Taeyeon, why you shouldn't be such a troublemaker. God knows she's tired of seeing your face in here. She’d expect Eunbi would have a good influence on you, but instead, you've turned your poor girlfriend into a nymphomaniac. 

Maybe everything about this is your fault after all.

Irene knows this. "You've turned your girlfriend into one of yours, hm?" she asks. Rhetorical question or not, all three of you know the answer. "First time seeing you here, miss Kwon."

"Miss Bae," says Eunbi timidly. She's trying a diplomatic approach here—it's all she knows in navigating life. Unfortunately, it won’t work here. "We're sorry. It won't happen again."

She smiles condescendingly. "So you know why you're here."

Irene's peaceful yet scary tone is exactly the reason for her English name, derived from the goddess of peace. She looks the part, too. Her pale skin can be the marble used to carve her most holy altar, and her sharp gaze can be replicated in it. She's like an older and more intimidating counterpart of Eunbi. She's smart as well, but not afraid to show it.

"I—I’m sorry," Eunbi says, realizing she's cornered into confession. It's as if all her speaking skills have evaporated in this room. It makes her nervous; you know so because her hand’s almost deathly cold in your touch. "We'll do anything to make it right." 

Irene clicks her tongue. "It doesn't work that way, miss Kwon. You two had sexual relations with a teacher. It isn't something that can be resolved with community service."

How did she know? You think and think, and all your suspicions, though they jump from Taeyeon (she's in the wrong here, too, so why should she be suspected when she's at as much risk in getting trouble?) to Minju (why the angel, out of all people?) to anybody else, all lead to one person: 

Jo Yuri. Of course it was her. But how?

You suppose that doesn't matter now that you're in Irene's office again. What's worse is that you brought Eunbi with you, the one person you swore you wouldn't toss into all your trouble. It feels like betraying her and everything your relationship has promised.

"Look," you say, taking a step forward, "we're sorry. Really. But please just let me take the blame. Suspend me or something. Just please don't hurt professor Kim or Eunbi, miss Bae."

"How touching, Kim Taeyeon's got you head over heels for her. I wonder what made you like her that much."

"Nothing, miss Bae. It was… just a one-time thing."

"I see, so the word 'mommy' doesn’t ring a bell?"

You stiffen. So does Eunbi, suddenly losing grip of your hand and losing her balance a little. In conclusion: yea, that word rings not only a bell, but a whole fucking gong in your mind.

Of course, Irene sees through this and rolls her eyes to heaven, as if she were making fun of you telepathically to an unknown deity. "Oh, so it does, huh?" she says, lifting her hands in the air. It's obvious, really, and she should have expected it. "Of course. One woman treats you like shit during sex and you drool for her. Of-fucking-course."

Your professional principal daring to curse in front of her students catches you off guard. But you know that, despite this, she's right. There are a lot of deeply internalized issues in you and Eunbi that would have reserved the right to be connected to the fling. These issues are the reason you like Taeyeon after all, but justifying the situation using them won't help your case at all. Irene doesn't take kindly to beggars of pity.

She walks over to the two of you. You subconsciously back away. It's instinctive, and you really should have gone through with what your gut tells you when the woman continues.

"I wonder how you ended up with miss Kwon then, if that's your type." Irene approaches her lookalike and laughs a little. "This little girl can't even get on top without begging for your dick five seconds later."

"That's not true," Eunbi stutters. She tenses up when the older woman strokes her shoulders. "I, I take control all the time, miss Bae. You can't just assume…"

If whatever's going on weren't putting your life at stake, you'd let out the biggest laugh to ever be heard by man. It's just insanely untrue. Eunbi's the most passive girl you've had the blessing to be with. It's just not in her to dominate in the bedroom. Debates and civil arguments in school are all things she tops, but when it comes to you, it's just out of the question.

"Then show me," Irene says. Massaging the girl's shoulders, her smirk creates a new punishment for you to abide by. "Show me how you control your bad little boyfriend."

The anxious, whimpering Eunbi has no time to think about how fucked up this is. She grabs your shoulders and pushes you to Irene's desk. She kisses you clumsily, tearing your uniform with shaking hands. 

Her lips create a path downwards your chest. She unbuckles your belt and drops to her knees. You breathe through your teeth when her mouth works itself on your cock. Down, up, down, up, and a sweet little kiss at the tip. Perfect for you, but not for your principal, who has higher standards, apparently.

Irene smirks, shaking her head pitifully. "Darling," she says before she kneels before you, too, "you really don't know how to do this, do you?"

Eunbi shakes her head. The fact that she's ashamed is, unlike her claim earlier, not a lie.

"Ah." In a sudden affectionate and motherly act, Irene rubs the student's thigh. "You're better off being a good little girl, is that it?" 

"Mmm. Yes."

“You’d rather be your oppa’s submissive little doll? Do anything he wants?”

“Y-yes, miss Bae.”

"That won't do here. You have to pay for what you've done, or else it wouldn't be fair."

Eunbi whines. Is it in protest or pleasure? Irene's fingers have crept under her skirt and to regions they're supposed to be restricted from. The cause is probably a mix of both, but you can guess what they're doing when you see Eunbi grinding down on your principal's hidden hand. 

"How about this?" Irene offers to you. "Miss Kwon and I will take turns on you. We test out who can dominate you better, and whoever does gets to do whatever they want to the rest."

"Miss Bae—" 

Irene pulls her fingers out of Eunbi and spanks her. Your girlfriend gasps and her hips flinch. Yeah,  apparently, there's no way to back out of this. "Close the door, slut. Lock it. You, shut the blinds. I don't want to get in trouble for fucking you spoiled brats."

There's truly no resistant bone in Eunbi's body with how quickly she scampers to the door. You can't say you're any better. You and your girlfriend obey the principal's orders like you're her pets, and perhaps that's a little true. Maybe this is the beginning of something new. Something a little screwed up, yeah, but new.

Whatever this is, you hope it'll get you out of getting your life royally fucked over. You used to not give a damn if that ever happened, but when Eunbi's on your side, you become more cautious. 

(If you were in a better state of mind, you’d recognize how having sex with your principal can and will contribute to your cautiousness going to no avail, but you’ve got two gorgeous women kneeling in front of you. What else is better than this?)

"Sit down." Irene pushes you down her swivel chair. "We're gonna have fun with you first. Call this a little," she winks, "practice session."

Your heart almost stops. You're thrust down even more into the cushion, and the foreign feeling of the principal's tongue provides an aching rush of blood to your cock. Meanwhile, Eunbi attends to your heavy balls, licking and sucking at the sensitive flesh. 

Your skin is on fire. The two beautiful women smear their salivas on your erection. Their tongues collide at times, making Eunbi recoil in shock at times, but not for too long that your penis is devoid of attention. Irene doesn’t mind at all. She’s fine with the occasional dab of her tongue on Eunbi’s mouth, and coating the sheen of saliva she’s left with more. No inch is left needy—while Irene teases your base with sharp licks between smirks, the other girl sloppily makes out with your dickhead. 

"Stop. You don't want your boyfriend here to think he can do anything he wants to you.” Irene’s rough fist stiffens the mast of your erection, and although it's pleasurable, it's also painful. Her speed is too much for a start to the show. "You need to put him in his place. Do it because you want to feel good about it, not him."

"B-but…"

"I'll show you."

Eunbi departs from your crotch and Irene does… well, nowhere near leaving, that's for sure. It's like your cock was just liquid streaming down her throat with how fast she takes you in. Her mouth is small, but she swallows it all expertly. Her hands tie your thighs down to the chair.

Being in Irene's mouth is a wet dream. Literally. Her slick tongue and cheeks rub your tip. They're just appetizers for the main course: her delectable throat that's thin and tight on you. She's almost forcing you to deal with her relentless blowing, betting her career that you can't withstand it. She doesn't need innocent, Bambi eyes to make it appealing when she has that goddess-like face, yet you have to prove her wrong.

But then she wraps her soft, jutted lips around your base and elegantly slides them up with puckered suction. She's not even fucking your rod with her throat anymore and you automatically say something you shouldn't have:

"Mommy, please."

Irene stops and smiles at Eunbi. "See what I'm saying?" she says with overflowing satisfaction. "It just comes naturally to him, doesn't it? Now it's your turn. Make me proud."

The pupil obeys. When has she ever done anything but that? You aren't complaining, though; her pretty mouth ranks up in their competition. 

The two women are so different in so many different ways. Eunbi's gentle blowing, her eyes glimmering with broken innocence that always dart to your face to see if you're enjoying, is far from Irene's harsh one. She bluntly licks at your tip, sparking precum to drip into her mouth, before she slowly takes it all in. Again, widely different compared to Irene's experienced swallow, but who's keeping note? You sure aren't; you're just glad to have the best of both worlds.

"That's a good girl," Irene says. She gathers Eunbi's hair into a makeshift ponytail to help her out. "Don't be afraid to go a little crazy. If you do a good job I might just play with your cute little pussy."

Eunbi shuts her eyes and moans. Your breath is long gone with how her soft, pleasured sounds vibrate on your cock. If that weren't enough, she's lifting her head up and down with a pace that's a little quicker than before, nudging your cock deep inside her mouth. It's past that, actually; your cockhead slips down the end and bears the overwhelming feeling of her airway blocked by your girth.

"M-mmmph!"

"Aw, poor girl's choking," Irene remarks mockingly. "What's the matter, miss Kwon? Can't take it?"

Eunbi tries to surprise her by taking it all down. Unfortunately, it’s too much for her. Instead, she whimpers and chokes. 

While she gags, you moan without shame. "I'm gonna cum, baby," you announce. Your cock feels like it's going to burst with her throat spasming around it. 

Her lips tighten around your tip. It successfully manages to flow your cum directly into her mouth. Irene jacks you off to help out. The younger girl's mouth is soon flooded with the natural waterfall of your cum. It could turn into a natural disaster; Eunbi’s already struggling to save all your load. 

"Don't swallow it. Come here."

Irene forces Eunbi's face to hers and kisses her deeply. Your girlfriend's hands are frozen in the air as they share your cum. The older woman’s hand imprisons her jaw in place so she can greedily collect your cum from the passive mouth. You see the shimmer of your semen as it’s passed from one tongue to another, hear the breathy moan of your girlfriend, feel your cock become more solid.

Irene swallows whatever she's gotten and, as an end to the makeout session, licks the other girl's plump, cumstained lips. "Ah, you’re really delicious," she says. "And your girlfriend's so cute. No wonder professor Kim likes you two so much."

You’re still in shock at the sight, but the mention of your professor gets you to make another comparison with said woman. She and Irene are alike, too, but differ so much as well. They’re both violent, but at least Taeyeon has a nice streak in her; she attended to you after the violent copulation in the classroom. Irene's gentle gestures are done only to please her will. But even with those contrasting traits set in the Venn diagram, you can't choose between the two of them: the dominant principal or the quietly pretty professor? 

Irene pulls Eunbi's hair mercilessly, yanking her head backwards and exposing her beautiful neck. "It's just too bad that she's terrible at being a mommy," she murmurs. Her fingers trace the large tits threatening to burst out of the buttoned fabric. "Such a perfect body for it, but completely useless."

"Oppa, that's not true, right?" asks Eunbi, squirming. "I'm good at being your girl, aren't I?"

"Who was a better mommy, baby boy? Me or her?"

It's not even a question. As much as your heart is biased towards the girl who owns it, it's obviously—

"You, mommy."

"Oppa!" Eunbi protests. She looks genuinely hurt. It's the first time she's ever been second place in anything, and it hits her right where it's already sore.

Irene's grin is smug. It's beautiful, but actually terrifying. It's a sign that everything will only go downhill from here. "What should I do with you two now, hm?" 

"Please,” says Eunbi. Struggling to compose herself now that the principal is playing with her breasts, she fights to say anything without moaning. “Please give me one more chance, mom– miss Bae… please, I'll be good—oh, I'll be so good—"

Your principal drags Eunbi up by her hair. "Stand over there if you're so good, mommy." One swift push sends her stumbling to the edge of her desk. 

Eunbi, sniffling through her tears, awaits her next order. There's something in her face aside from the wet tears; it's a tale of how much she wants to be as good as Irene at using you that competes with her desire to please her. She's been a people-pleaser all her life, and it's hard to break its shackles, especially when Irene orders her to grind herself down the end of her desk, with one rule:

“Don’t cum until I say so.”

The panties slip off her plentiful thighs. She closes her eyes as she settles her nub over the edge of the wooden desk. Slowly, she starts to move.

"F-fuck." Eunbi places a shaking palm over her mouth.

"Exactly what your boyfriend's going to do to me," quips Irene. "See, this is how you put a man in his place." 

She tears her pencil skirt apart with no hesitation. After, she confidently sits on your lap, filling her cunt to the hilt. You tense up; her round ass on your lap is a blessing alone, but when it comes to her cunt, it’s a whole heavenly reward. Although Irene speaks and acts with nothing other than confidence, if not arrogance, her pussy is too tight for your cock to even pulse. When it barely does, her textured velvety walls cease it with a firm clench.

“Holy shit, mommy. You’re so”—between gritted teeth, you groan and rest your hands on Irene’s ant waist—“fucking tight.”

“I know,” says Irene. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

The whole situation is sinful. Watching your girlfriend having nothing to do but touch herself on the inanimate object and helplessly watch the two of you fuck is one thing, but Irene’s perfect ass on your lap is in another world. Galaxy might be more accurate. The melody of their moans causes you to struggle in keeping yourself from cumming too fast, but it’s already a challenge with Irene’s pussy fucking itself on you. She’s as tight as she looks, and probably would have been the ruinable type if she weren’t the way she is.

She leans back into your chest and caresses the side of your face with a surprisingly gentle hand. With timed movements, she lifts herself off and on your erection. Her folds splay apart to welcome you inside, into a whole, slick world. “I guess he’s all mine now, yeah?” she asks Eunbi. “He seems to like mommy better, Eunbi-ya.”

When she’s fingered and forced the girl to sexually stimulate herself on her table, there’s no need for even the polite formalities. There’s not even a chance for it to resurface when Eunbi’s already tearing up. 

“Oppa likes me, too,” she says. The jealousy brewing like a potion cauldron inside her drives her gyrations on the desk to go faster. It’s a fucked up coping mechanism for the sight in front of her. “You still like me best, don’t you, oppa?”

“Of course… fuck”—forget what you’re saying when Irene grinds her hips in circles and bounces her ass cheeks into your lap—“of course I do.”

She certainly knows her way around a dick. Her seductive rounds on your crotch and the measured riding just tell you that she’s had way more than enough experience in this realm, which, in terms of that, places her first. Eunbi’s a sore loser who doesn’t like that fact, but you can’t rig her a place anyway.

“But listen to how he’s moaning, babygirl,” Irene points out. You really don’t intend to moan again in order to avoid hurting Eunbi’s feelings, but Irene keeps a consistent squeeze of her vaginal walls on you and makes all go awry. “He loves my pussy. He loves it when I use him. I presume it’s not the same when it’s with you?”

Try to shut her up by rubbing her clit, but she only murmurs a series of “yes”’s. Besides, the damage, although fired from simple words, is already done; Eunbi’s quivering bottom lip is as clear as day.

“He loves me,” she whines. She squeezes the table tighter, as if the vicinity of the wood can help magick up a proper way to get her to become the mommy she just isn’t. “Hnn. He, he likes me because I’m a good girl.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Irene says, her sarcastically rolled eyes unimpressed. “You’re young. You should know being good is outdated. If he likes it, then he shouldn’t be fucking me right now.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you say. You stop thrusting upwards into Irene, but she keeps bouncing. The stimulation remains constant. 

You really can’t find your way out of this. Irene’s weight, though light, keeps you on the chair and void of anything to do to break it all up. Your legs already feel weak at her pace. It’s as if she’s completely unaware of how tight and wet she is and therefore subjects you to it, thinking that you can handle it. But of course, she’s an intelligent, self-aware woman—she knows her effect on you, and she isn’t hesitant to exploit it.

Eunbi sobs as she grinds down the edge of the table harder. She can’t take watching you and Irene fuck anymore. "Mommy, please.”

"’Mommy’? Not putting up a fight anymore, are you, pretty little girl?" Irene asks. She pouts mockingly. "Gonna give up?"

Eunbi shakes her head. "No…"

"Alright, if you aren’t, use me. Use your boyfriend. We’ll see what happens."

Your girlfriend bursts into tears. It’s no mere tear sliding down her cheek anymore. It’s a whole fiasco of whiny crying and childish protests. Of course, it’s not in her to fight Irene. She’s remained a diplomatic civil debater, not a physical one. At times she doesn’t even counter an argument, similar to now, when she weakly replies, "B-but I don’t know how.”

“Come on. You’re smart, aren’t you? You can win over me.”

“Mmm, please just let me cum, mommy. Please."

"Do it. I dare you."

"Mommy—"

"Do it."

"I—I can't!" Eunbi says this in a tone that’s nearly a scream as she struggles to keep herself standing. "Please don't take him away from me, I'm a good girl, I swear, I swear!"

“Oh, look at her, baby.” Irene strengthens the force of her riding. It draws you nearer to an orgasm. “She wants you so bad. She wants to be your mommy so bad.”

Eunbi’s explicit moans and Irene’s soft gasps contribute equally with the silken pussy in draining you. You fill Irene up to the brim. As she stands, white drips down her naked legs.

“You want to be a mommy so bad?” 

Irene slips her fingers inside herself, scooping out white liquid, then walks over to the quaking valedictorian. Under the guise of the skirt, she sticks the cum-stained fingers into the needy little hole.

“Then fucking be one.”

“Mommy!” 

Eunbi screams when Irene stuffs her cunt and fingers her violently. Her legs close together, and suddenly she’s creaming all over the fingers moving unabashedly inside her. Wetness is wrung out repeatedly, and strings of arousal connect and disconnect between the joined fingers.

“Mommy, miss Bae, hnnn…” mumbles Eunbi, mind fogged with pleasure, “mommy—”

“Shhh, that’s a girl, miss Kwon,” Irene says as she offers the nectar-coated fingers to the girl’s mouth. Eunbi gladly accepts. 

To your surprise, Irene seems gentle this time. She pats your girlfriend’s back firmly, even wiping the drool on her lips. Maybe it’s the satisfaction of making both a girl and a boy orgasm. That’s all you can guess.

“You haven’t fucked me like you did mommy,” Eunbi protests. “I want you, too, please?”

“You heard the girl,” Irene says. She’s all for another go. She seems to be the only one not tired between the three of you. Her arrogant smile has not once lost its shine. “She wants to be fucked. Or do you not like her little pussy the same way you love mine?”

That triggers Eunbi to look up with tearful eyes. “Oppa, do you…?”

“Of course not. You can have me all you like.”

“Darlings,” pipes in Irene, “you seem to be forgetting someone here. That isn’t part of the deal.”

Of course. You’re still under the invisible contract she set. As the obvious winner of the battle of wills and domination, she gets to have the nicer end of the deal: to do anything she wants with the two of you. Whatever happens here has to involve her. No one’s going to be left out here.

How should it go?

“I want that mouth on my pussy, miss Kwon,” decides Irene, sitting on her throne (AKA as the swivel chair.) “And I want you to fuck her. Really fuck her. I want to see her break.”

So that’s how it goes, since Eunbi’s too kind to propose another way. She crawls between Irene’s legs, greedily eating the cum out of her, while you pound her from behind. 

Eunbi’s wide hips are just irresistible. They fit right into your hands and serve as anchors to pull you in and out of her. The skirt, instead of infuriating you with how much it blocks your view of her ass and grippy pussy, drives you more insane.

And when you look up, there’s Irene, with her legs spread wide for Eunbi to stay. It’s nice of the deities to create a world where there are so many beautiful women, and for two to be right by your side currently. Maybe you gotta thank the Greek statue that’s privy to the whole thing—you’re pretty sure she’s part of the whole god gang. Whatever. 

Irene’s hands aren’t sedentary. They tug onto the wavy hair for its owner to tongue her core more. The pussy-eating thing is an act of jealousy from Eunbi, really—part of the reason she agreed to eat her out is so she can drink your cum straight from where you deposited it. Safe to say it’s a win-win situation.

“Fuck, you’ve got a good mouth, miss Kwon,” says Irene. She bites her lip, and hisses. “Just like that.”

Even with all she’s done to her, Eunbi mewls in appreciation. Or maybe it’s your cock causing that. Yeah, definitely your cock. You make it a purpose to stretch her out and keep her pretty cunt stuffed. Gently stimulate her bundle of nerves for her skirted ass to reverse back into your crotch.

“Oppa—” Eunbi says, her voice reaching another high pitch due to the pleasure.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” Irene sharply reminds her. “Don’t stop or he won’t fuck you anymore.”

Eunbi gets back to work, moaning after you penetrate her again. You may have fucked Irene, but she still remains in control here. She just solidifies her place in the little contest she and Eunbi had. Your girlfriend, ever the grumpy loser, vents her frustration in eating her principal out, evoking broken gasps from her.

“Aw, don’t be too jealous, Eun,” you say to Eunbi. Her tight pussy is an everyday heaven you, a sinner, are given a free pass to relish in. “You’re still my good girl.”

You can feel her cunt tighten at your words. Eunbi closes her eyes and whimpers while she sucks on Irene’s clit. Her nose presses against the older woman’s flat stomach. 

“She really likes being called that, huh?” chuckles Irene, ruffling Eunbi’s hair. 

“She does.” Thrust into her particularly hard. “She’s a sweet girl.”

Eunbi’s body trembles. Unable to deal with the flood of praises, she tonguefucks Irene’s hole harshly, suppressing her heavy breaths in the pink flesh. 

“Is that what you want to be, miss Kwon?” Irene allows Eunbi to take a breather and lifts her chin up, but renders her breathless anyway with the next set of words. “Mommy and daddy’s sweet little girl?”

The girl’s walls twitch around you, and you hear her whine again. She’s always like that, the poor thing, but now, it’s urgent—it goes on, prolonged with need and desire, that you have to pull her into your lap, cock still lodged inside her, and say: “Use your words, baby.”

She’s a little taken aback, but she’s nodding. Breathing through her mouth in shaky little exhales, Eunbi nods. “Y-yes, please,” she says, as if in a trance. “Mommy. Daddy.”

You and Irene don’t get along too well due to your history of troubles, but you immediately understand each other when you gaze into each other’s eyes. You don’t say a word, but there’s no need for any when her lips are already on Eunbi’s. 

It’s a quick change of positions. You bring her over to the desk again. This time, she’s not merely here to watch, but to indulge in the pleasure of having the two of you at the same time. Buttons fly in the air as Irene rips the school blouse apart. She bares the bouncing tits of any bra then immediately goes to worshiping them. Eunbi’s nipple ends up in her mouth and hardens at the suckles. It was as if she were determined to draw out milk from them. 

“Look at you,” she says. Irene admires the round, full bosom before her, tracing a hand along the flesh. “Walking around with a body like this shouldn’t be allowed.”

“Mommy,” says Eunbi. She shivers when you fill her up. “Daddy, please. I’m yours.”

“Oh, you are.” Irene plays with the perfect collarbone for a while before edging her hand up to her throat. There, she squeezes tight. “Trust me.”

You squeeze Eunbi’s breasts and kiss them. You don’t think there would ever be a time you wouldn’t appreciate her beautiful tits. Irene seems to have discovered their beauty, too, for the two of you start to worship them. Irene takes left, you go right. Each one provides more than a supple amount of softness that with each bite, squeeze and suck makes Eunbi clamp down on your cock more. 

“Baby boy,” Irene whispers. She’s never looked this motherly, yet so seductive. “Remember when I said I wanted you to break her? I still expect you to do it.”

“I’d want nothing more,” you reply.

“Daddy, mommy, w-what are you going to do to me?”

“Bend over, miss Kwon,” instructs Irene, “we’re going to give you what you want.”

Eunbi happily does, and thanks her by slipping her fingers inside her. They immediately set a quick pace to keep her on her toes. 

“God, fuck her,” Irene says. “She’s earned it.”

Your girlfriend’s never been so glad to hear something from the principal. The praise earlier is a close competitor, but when these words are the cause of your cock to begin thrusting again, she still prefers these. 

“Fuck, daddy!”

You match the pace of her fingers in Irene’s pussy. You choose to go brutally, putting her out of her long misery by filling her over and over again. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, please!” Her eyes are shut, and her body is still except for the movements driven by your thrusts, but her fingers still fuck Irene’s waiting pussy. She’s a true multi-tasker, this girl. 

How many times has she begged like this today? You don’t know, but it’s the first time that she’s calling you the name. It surprises even yourself that it turns you on. It drives a forbidden feeling deep in your chest that’s exactly what fuels your thrusts. 

She’s finally fulfilled after being kept at the side for practically the whole time, so her screams are also of relief. She squirts so goddamned easily that each thrust is slick and messy. Her folds spare not a second of releasing your cock. No, it holds on, and it’s all too messy. Sinful. Incredibly immoral. 

“That’s it, take my cock, Eunbi,” you groan. The words just come naturally to you, because when she’s absolutely writhing underneath you and her pussy is that tight, you become a philosopher with a way with words. You can write several doctrines about how fucking ruinable she is, how her body’s just fit for your cock, how her thin whines are strung out so deliciously that you could never think of stopping. 

After everything that’s happened, she’s still your girl. She’s still the one you want to take to bed. She’s just that good.

“Daddy, mommy, fuck—me!” she screams. Eunbi’s tears come flowing back. They pour down her pretty face and onto the desk. If there was paperwork getting done on this desk, they’re replaced by Eunbi.

You think she’s gone crazy. Her voice is strained and her fingers almost painfully shove themselves in Irene, like they’re machine-controlled. All different sounds are extracted from her sore throat: moans, screams, and gasps—you think you’ve broken her.

You guess that’s enough payment for Irene.

Irene’s groans and cries are loud; her legs squeeze around Eunbi’s wrist. “D-don’t fucking stop,” she warns. You sense that there’d be more than what punishment is if the girl dares to halt. Eunbi knows better than to, anyway. She continues fingering Irene, exploring the cave of her tight hole and pressing down on her G-spot. 

Eunbi closes her eyes as Irene’s cum sprays her. Now she really looks ruined. She’s already covered in her tears and drool. You guess that soon, she’d be covered in you.

You slip out to flick your cock against her clit. 

“Ahhh, daddy!”

“That’s right. Cum for daddy, baby.”

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck, daddy! Keep rubbing my clit like that, it feels so good… it feels so warm, please don’t stop!”

“Cum for me.”

“Daddy!” wails Eunbi. 

Everything is a mess of moans and squirting. Eunbi screams in pleasure, shaking as her folds remain determined to swallow every inch of your cock even after her orgasm, and Irene’s to your left riding her digits, crying out as if she were in a war. And you guess that yea, maybe it is a war—a war of good and evil, a war of the overachievers (that brings a chuckle out of you), a war of sex. 

But in the end, in a feat that no one’s ever seen, everybody wins.

-

Dear Ms. Jo,

This is regarding your recent concern about Ms. Kwon Eunbi. 

I find that the evidence you provided to me is altered and has been tampered with. After further questioning with teachers and staff, I can conclude that your concern is dismissed and shall only subject you to disciplinary action.

It is strictly prohibited to spread harmful falsehood about your fellow schoolmates. Please see me after class tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Principal Bae Irene/Joohyun

[elryuse]

Can u do a yandere fic vampire Red Velvet x Male Reader?

Details: YN is a hematologist and a certified nutritionist, he has rather a normal if not boring life, well, successful to be exact, but almost 24/7, his life is just work and work.

One day he thinks about life and tries to get out of his usual life, he doesn't like dating apps, but his friend insists him on trying one of those.

He then meets Park Sooyoung (Joy), he doesn't know why but he is captivated by her eyes and they match, they talk and go out, soon YN asks her out for a dinner date. After the dinner, Joy tells YN to take her home and, guess what, she then says sorry and traps him there.

There he'll meet her sisters, Joy apologizes 'cause her she and her sisters can't just go around and feast on people's blood or steal it from a hospital so they need a perfect (unlucky) candidate to fill their thirst.

The girls are not those who just know take but not give, having lived for a few centuries they have built up a big fortune so Irene gives him a deal, a hefty price a month, and YN is only allowed to go home under their supervision.

Why YN but not the others? During YN and Joy's time before that fateful night, Joy learns of YN's blood type and he has a mutation in his gene which makes his blood more rare and it can help them stay full for a long time, longer than usual compared to other people's or animal's blood.

Day by day, they (except Irene) fall in love with him more and start to hate and compete against each other more. Irene tells her sisters that he is just food, no more no less. Irene hates YN for turning her sisters into love craving maniacs, her words, her physical tortures, they hurt him a lot. Gradually, the girls start to resent Irene more. Irene then knows that she is losing her sisters, YN knows their history, what they've gone through together so while doesn't want to, he still helps her, at least for the sake of his love for the other girls.

After that, Irene spends nights thinking about her actions, she wants to redeem herself but not knowing that she will join the circle and compete against them to get YN.

The Cost Of Immortality

Red Velvet X Male Hermatologist Reader

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the endless rows of blood bags. My world, for the most part, resided within these pale confines. Dr. Y/N, hematologist extraordinaire, by day. Sleep-deprived researcher, by night. The monotony was a steady thrum in the background of my life, a rhythm I barely noticed anymore.

Until her. Park Sooyoung, or Joy as she insisted, was a splash of vibrant crimson against the beige canvas of my existence. Her laughter was like wind chimes in a gentle breeze, a stark contrast to the sterile silence of my lab. We swiped right on a whim, two lonely souls seeking a spark in the digital abyss. Our dates were stolen moments of whispered secrets and stolen glances, a world existing outside the confines of my workaholic routine.

One evening, after an intimate dinner bathed in flickering candlelight, her smile faltered for a fleeting moment. "Take me home," she pleaded, a tremor in her voice that sent a shiver down my spine. But 'home' wasn't the cozy apartment I envisioned. It was a sprawling mansion that loomed out of the darkness, an unsettling air clinging to its ancient bricks.

Inside, bathed in an eerie moonlight, stood two other women, the same captivating crimson eyes staring back at me, framed by raven hair in shades of red. Introductions were swift, clinical even. Wendy, the eldest, with an aura of quiet authority. Seulgi, the playful one, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. And lastly, Irene, the epitome of stoicism, her gaze as sharp as the glint of silver moonlight on a blade.

The facade they'd meticulously crafted crumbled in that instant. They weren't human. A cocktail of fear and morbid fascination bubbled in my gut as Irene, her voice devoid of warmth, revealed their true nature. Vampires.

Relief, a fleeting emotion, washed over me only to be replaced by a cold dread that coiled around my heart. Irene then explained the reason for the charade - my blood. A rare type, a euphoric feast for their kind. The offer they presented was a gilded cage - a hefty sum deposited into my account every month in exchange for my…companionship. Leaving was an option, but only with armed guards as my constant companions.

Trapped, I became their prisoner, their provider. Nights were spent in opulent rooms, my blood sustaining them. Days were a monotonous blur of tests conducted by Wendy, their resident physician, and guarded outings with Seulgi, whose playful demeanor couldn't quite mask the possessiveness simmering beneath the surface.

But it was Joy, with her intoxicating gaze that seemed to see straight into my soul, who held the key to my heart. As weeks bled into months, a twisted dynamic began to take hold. Wendy craved my intellectual sparring sessions, dissecting medical journals with a fervor that both scared and intrigued me. Seulgi sought out my laughter, our days filled with playful banter that often teetered on the edge of something more. Joy… Joy craved something deeper, a yearning that mirrored the burgeoning affection I felt for her.

Irene, ever the pragmatist, remained aloof. I was a source, a necessity, but never an equal. Their affections, fueled by my unique blood, twisted into a possessive love that bordered on obsession. One night, sleep evading me, I found myself wandering the cavernous halls, drawn by a sliver of light filtering from beneath a closed door. Straining my ears, I caught the tail end of Irene's scathing words, calling my presence a curse.

A flicker of hurt ignited in my chest, a silent plea that resonated with the others. A shift, subtle yet undeniable, began to take place. Wendy's once objective demeanor morphed into veiled defiance. Seulgi's playful banter took on a tinge of possessiveness, her playful swats laced with a silent threat. They began to resent Irene's cold control, their love for me blossoming into a silent rebellion.

I, aware of their history, a dark secret Irene guarded with an iron fist, found myself playing a dangerous game. I helped Irene, not out of fear, but for the sake of the fragile connection I had with the others. This unexpected kindness sparked a flicker of something in Irene's eyes - a flicker I dared to hope was redemption.

But redemption rarely comes easy, especially for creatures of the night. One evening, while Seulgi and I were returning from a guarded outing, a tense silence hung heavy in the air. Suddenly, the car swerved, tires screeching in protest as we veered off the deserted road. The world lurched, and then… darkness.

As weeks bled into months, the opulent mansion I was confined to became a gilded cage. The initial thrill of being around captivating vampires dulled, replaced by a gnawing sense of longing for freedom. Yet, a strange sense of camaraderie started to blossom between me and my captors.

Joy, with her fiery spirit and infectious laughter, was the first to chip away at the walls I'd built around my heart. Our late-night conversations, fueled by stolen glances and whispered secrets, transformed into a silent understanding that transcended the boundaries of our situation.

Wendy, the stoic doctor, surprised me with her curiosity about the human world. Our discussions, initially clinical and scientific, evolved into philosophical debates that stretched into the wee hours. There was a spark of intellectual intimacy that ignited a warmth within me.

Seulgi, the playful prankster, brought a lightness to my captivity. Her days were filled with teasing jabs and playful challenges, a subtle shift from her initial possessiveness. There was a sense of innocent affection in her touch, a camaraderie that soothed the ache for human connection.

Even Irene, the enigmatic leader, began to show a flicker of something akin to…gratitude? Her cold demeanor softened a fraction during our bloodletting sessions. The way her eyes lingered on me for a beat too long, the hesitant brush of her fingers against mine while administering the numbing agent – these subtle signs hinted at a transformation within her.

However, Irene's possessiveness manifested differently. Unlike the open affection of her sisters, hers was a veiled control. She dictated the terms of my captivity, monitored my interactions with the others, and treated me more like a valuable possession than a person. This dissonance between her actions and the subtle shift in her eyes created a confusing dynamic.

One evening, after a particularly draining bloodletting session, I found myself alone with Irene in the dimly lit library. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, I gathered my courage. "Why, Irene?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Why do you keep me here like this, a prisoner in your own home?"

Irene's gaze snapped to mine, crimson eyes blazing with a flicker of something I couldn't decipher. "You are…different," she finally said, her voice laced with an emotion I couldn't place. "Your blood…"

"It sustains you," I finished for her, a bitter taste in my mouth. "Makes you stronger, keeps you from succumbing to the sire bond completely."

She looked away, a muscle clenching in her jaw. "That's not all," she muttered, her voice barely audible. But before she could elaborate, the library door creaked open, revealing Joy, her face flushed with anger.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, her eyes flashing between me and Irene. "We need to talk." The air crackled with unspoken tension, and I realized with a jolt that the night was far from over. The delicate balance between affection, possessiveness, and a shared captivity was about to be tested.

Joy's anger crackled in the air, a stark contrast to the usual warmth in her eyes. "What did you do to him?" she demanded, her gaze fixed on Irene. Seulgi, her playful demeanor replaced by a cold fury, stepped forward, her voice trembling with barely contained rage.

"Don't play dumb, Irene," Seulgi spat. "We know. The bruises, the flinches… you've been hurting him!" Wendy, her stoic facade crumbling, placed a calming hand on Seulgi's shoulder, but her eyes held a newfound suspicion directed at Irene.

The accusations hung heavy in the air, shattering the fragile peace that had settled within the mansion. Irene, cornered and defensive, finally spoke. "It's not what it seems," she said, her voice strained. "I…" She faltered, the carefully constructed mask of control slipping.

"You what?" Joy pressed, her voice laced with hurt and betrayal. For the first time, I saw a flicker of fear in Irene's crimson eyes, a vulnerability that sent a jolt through me.

Taking a deep breath, Irene confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "I was afraid," she admitted. A collective gasp filled the room. Fear? From the ever-stoic, ever-in-control Irene?

"Afraid of what?" Wendy asked, her voice gentle but firm. Shame tinged Irene's cheeks as she met their gazes. "Afraid of losing you," she said, her voice cracking. "All of you."

Confusion clouded their faces. How could their fear of losing them translate to the way she treated me? Sensing their bewilderment, Irene continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You've never needed me before," she explained. "The hunt, the sire bond… I was always the one who protected you from it all."

Her words hung heavy, revealing a truth I hadn't considered. Irene, the eldest, had always shouldered the burden of leadership, of protecting her sisters. "But now," Irene continued, her voice trembling, "he does it all. He gives you what you need. Makes you stronger. And suddenly… I'm not needed anymore."

A heavy silence descended upon the room. The revelation painted Irene's actions in a new light. Her possessiveness, her cruelty, stemmed not from malice, but from a deep-seated fear of abandonment. For the first time, I saw Irene not as a captor, but as a woman grappling with her own insecurities.

Seulgi, the first to break the silence, stepped forward, her anger replaced by a newfound understanding. "We need you, Irene," she said, her voice soft. "Just… differently." The other sisters murmured their agreement, their gazes softening towards their eldest sister.

Tears welled up in Irene's eyes, a storm of emotions battling within her. "But what about him?" Joy asked, gesturing towards me. "He doesn't deserve the way you've treated him."

Shame flushed across Irene's face. She looked at me, her gaze filled with a mixture of regret and something… hopeful? "I can change," she whispered. The night that followed was a turning point. We talked, all five of us, sharing our fears, our desires, and our newfound understanding.

Irene apologized for the pain she'd inflicted, her voice raw with remorse. I, in turn, confessed the strange mix of fear and affection I felt for them all. As the night wore on, a fragile truce formed, a new chapter beginning within the walls of the mansion. The future remained uncertain, but a flicker of hope, a tentative promise of a future built on trust and something more, flickered between us.

The aftermath of the confrontation was a whirlwind of activity. Wendy cleaned my wounds with practiced efficiency, her gaze carrying a silent apology. Joy hovered nearby, her touch hesitant but comforting. Seulgi, ever the pragmatic one, made plans to reinforce the mansion's security.

And then there was Irene. Shame seemed to cling to her like a shroud. Her apologies, though heartfelt, felt hollow in the face of my visible injuries. They were a stark reminder of her cruelty, the bite marks and scars a map of her failings.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the hallway. Guards bustled about, their voices raised in urgency. Apparently, there was a malfunction in the security system. They needed someone to manually reboot it – a job usually reserved for Irene.

With a resigned sigh, Irene turned to me. "I need someone to watch you," she explained, her voice strained. "It shouldn't take long." The others exchanged hesitant glances, but in the end, I volunteered. The tension in the room was thick, but the prospect of some alone time with Irene, however awkward, was strangely appealing.

We were escorted to a small, book-lined room that served as Irene's private study. As the heavy door shut behind us with a resounding thud, the air crackled with unspoken emotions. Irene approached the control panel, her back turned to me, her fingers flying across the keypad.

The silence stretched, broken only by the rhythmic beeps of the security system. Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, I spoke. "It's okay, Irene," I said softly. She froze, her body taut. Slowly, she turned around, her crimson eyes filled with a mixture of shame and disbelief.

"You… you forgive me?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. I reached out, my hand hovering over the intricate web of scars marring her arm. Scars older, darker than mine. "We all make mistakes, Irene," I said, my voice gentle. "The important thing is we learn from them."

A single tear escaped her eye, tracing a glistening path down her pale cheek. The sight of it, of her vulnerability, broke something within me. In that moment, I saw not the stoic leader, but a woman burdened by fear and insecurity. A woman who, despite her actions, had always been fiercely protective of her sisters.

Taking a step closer, I cupped her face in my hand, wiping away the stray tear with my thumb. Her eyes, wide with surprise, met mine. Slowly, hesitantly, I leaned in, bridging the gap between us.

The kiss was a revelation. It was raw, desperate, fueled by a desperate need for connection, for forgiveness. Irene clung to me like a lifeline, her initial hesitation melting away into a torrent of passion. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken apologies, of a newfound understanding, and of a hope for something more, something real.

When we finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, a fragile peace settled between us. Irene, her gaze searching mine, whispered, "I don't deserve you, Y/n." "Maybe not," I replied, cupping her cheek once again. "But maybe, together, we can learn to deserve each other."

The future remained uncertain. But as we held each other close in the dimly lit study, a flicker of warmth ignited within me. It was the glimmer of a new beginning, one built on trust, forgiveness, and a love that bloomed in the most unexpected of places.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of stolen moments and whispered promises. My relationship with each sister blossomed in its own unique way. Joy's fiery spirit ignited passionate encounters, fueled by stolen kisses under the moonlight. Wendy, with her intellectual curiosity, discovered a new kind of intimacy in late-night discussions that morphed into explorations of touch. Seulgi's playful demeanor evolved into a playful possessiveness, her playful nips replaced by gentle love bites.

Surprisingly, it was Irene who turned out to be the most possessive. The initial shame of her actions morphed into a fierce determination to prove herself worthy of my affection. She'd watch, a flicker of jealousy in her crimson eyes, whenever I spent time with the others. But when it was her turn, her touch was the most hesitant, the most tender. It was as if she was constantly afraid of breaking something precious.

One evening, as the six of us sat nestled together by the fireplace, a comfortable silence settling between us, Irene surprised us all. "He's ours," she declared, her voice laced with a possessiveness that sent a thrill down my spine. The others, instead of protesting, simply chuckled, a knowing look in their eyes.

"Ours?" I echoed, feigning confusion. Wendy, a playful glint in her eyes, clarified. "Yes, ours, Y/n. Our lover, our provider, our… family." A warmth bloomed in my chest at the word 'family.' It was a concept I hadn't dared to dream of, not with these extraordinary creatures of the night.

The following months were a blur of shared experiences and deepening affection. We explored the hidden corners of the city under the cloak of darkness, their laughter echoing through deserted streets. We spent lazy afternoons curled up with dusty tomes in Irene's study, their thirst for knowledge rivaled only by their thirst for me.

The nights were a symphony of touch and whispered desires. We explored each other's bodies with a newfound reverence, the boundaries between human and vampire blurring with each passing night. The sire bond, once a source of fear, became a bridge, a way to experience each other's emotions with an intensity that defied explanation.

Our unorthodox relationship wasn't without its challenges. There were moments of jealousy, of possessiveness, but we learned to navigate them together. We were, after all, a coven, bound not just by blood, but by an unconventional love that defied definition.

One starlit night, as we lay tangled together in the sprawling master bedroom, Irene spoke, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you," she said, her crimson eyes reflecting the moonlight. I smiled, pulling her closer. "For what?"

"For showing us that love can exist even in the darkest corners," she replied. And in that moment, under the watchful gaze of the moon, I knew that our love story, born from captivity and fear, had blossomed into something beautiful, something extraordinary. We were a family, bound by blood, by love, and by a shared eternity.

The End

[thebaileybugle]

My Love

Pairing: Irene Adler x Attorney!Holmes brother!reader

Warning(s): Irene a bit... out of character, small innuendo (if you squint a bit, a domestic Holmes brother 😯, helicopter sibling!Mycroft, mention of a character being naked,

A/N: ...I'm back? This is based on a relationship between an original character of mine and Irene where he is the owner of a law firm and also an Attorney.

Irene's eyes fluttered open as she was greeted with the beautiful beam of the sun pooling from an open window in her room. She yawned a bit before looking over at your side to pull herself to your warmth, the London chill following after the sun's rays. Though when she looked over at your side of the bed you were already sitting up, your back to her, with one of your undershirts covering your torso and something, most likely your phone, in hand. You were probably messaging Your brothers, John, or Scotland-yard.

Feeling eyes on you, a smirk pulled at your lips as you thought of her admiring you even in her sleepy state.

“If you intended on staring at my back the entire time, the least you could do is warm it.” You interrupted the silence, an airy chuckle leaving your lips as you heard Irene huff out of breath.

“Mm, it is quite nippy this morning isn’t it?” She pointed out holding the blanket closer to her naked form. Her eyes began to flutter closed but were unable to as you suddenly stood from your side of the bed.

Walking into the closet, you lent down in front of your designated drawer for her flat and retrieved a pair of black boxer briefs. You slid them on before walking back onto the bedroom where Irene was sat with her back against the headboard, her eyes soaking in your half naked body.

“It is, but sadly that won’t stop the firm from needing me today.”

“I thought you took off for the twenty first, it's your birthday after all.”

“Thought so too, that is until Mycroft called to inform me I was behind schedule.” You let out a deep sigh as your mentally recalled the number of cases Mycroft handed over to your firm to properly bring federal list criminals to justice.

“Does he always keep tabs on your work.” Irene shook her head. She knew the answer but never understood why Mycroft kept tags on you when you were the most emotionally and, mentally stable of the Holmes brothers. If anything you should be the ones hover over the lives of your siblings.

But lord knows how much Mycroft likes being in control.

“Sine uni darling, you know this.” You slipped on your freshly folded white button up over your undershirt. Your fingers expertly push the buttons through their designated hole as you begin talking again without losing eye contact with Irene. “And he’s especially strict on my whereabouts since we’ve started our… relationship.”

“Why did you hesitate to say relationship? Second thoughts?”

“No, darling, never. Just a bit weary.” Irene scoffs at your admission making tisk. “No, don’t scoff at me, Ms. Adler. A year ago you were fascinated with my younger brother, it’ll leave someone to wonder why go from one Holmes to another.”

“I was intrigued by him, Y/N there’s a difference. Though as for you, you not only intrigue me, but you make me feel emotions I didn't know I was capable of having."

"Joy?" You joked giving her a small smiling.

"Love, you intellectual fool." She chuckled throwing a pillow at you. Your smile grew and you strolled closer to the bed as she sat on her knees on the edge of the bed. You placed your forehead on hers and let yourself just feel her presence.

"I know, i know. I'm only teasing Irene."

"Don't question my love, Y/N. It's rare enough I call it that. You truly are my one, my love."

[capslocked]

PASCAL

male reader x karina & irene

part 1 of two roses, by every other name

28k words

It goes without saying that Karina’s reputation is flawless. 

Irene’s is remarkably not.

You're not even staunchly a romantic or anything. You just can’t be assed to manage the distinction between desire and distance. So when the dust settles, the best case scenario is the three of you going around telling people, "all of this is actually a true story by the way."

-

You don't need the extra helping of moody and foreboding, but the wind picks up enough to chill you to the spot.

It blows some of the longer, darker strands of Irene's hair into her eyes and she shivers, too, against the cold as she tucks it behind her ears. You’ve got both hands balled into your coat pockets, watching her pretend like she isn't about to say something you absolutely do not want to hear. Then, a sigh - the length of which is probably unwarranted. You can feel the frost on the air burning through your teeth as you face back out toward the taxi stand. 

It’s gotten late and you're still waiting on an empty cab - you’re realizing there was never a conversation to be had in the first place.

“For what it’s worth,” Irene says, and there’s an indecent proposal just in the way she glances at you. “I had my eyes on her first.”

It’s all on account of some sort of moral quandary, or whatever nonsense Irene pretends to believe every time it comes up. A gross power imbalance; an issue of innocence and entitlement; a threat of abuse. Something, another thing, patriarchal expectations, blah, blah - she fudges around the details, but never ever cares who gets hurt. Not really.

And it’s doubtful Irene believes what she says, not to mention she’s skeptical anyone is even capable of zipping their way down Karina’s denim, working a pair of hands up the contour of her long legs, and making her pant and gasp hard enough that she forgets to breathe.

Well, supposedly - that is anyone, save the two of you. Nevermind the fact she’s always, always been off-limits.

The bottom line is she's a whole decade younger than either of you. This just for starters - only legal for alcohol by some narrow margin. Because between you and your fiancée there are all these rules: no coworkers, no labelmates, no close mutual friends, no personal assistants, no jealous ex-lovers, and absolutely none of her juniors. It’s in poor taste, among other things.

Also, just as straightforward: crossing any number of those lines has its own kind of appeal.

"Okay,” you say, “then maybe you should be the one to tell her we’re taking her home."

Irene's arching her eyebrows at you like a silent rebuttal. She smiles after a laugh, quick and easy, because it's what she's good at. It's what she knows. “Like you weren’t hoping she’d be here, too."

The ash Irene taps off the end of her cigarette falls to the ground like snow. Hitting the pavement as if it might punctuate the thought. That's a rare first mistake from someone like you, and then a second one from her: she thinks she’ll need to defend herself with an explanation, like she’d ever need to justify anything to you.

“Besides, she’s not waiting for me to ask.” There’s a curl to her mouth - and then, she adds, for your benefit, "she'd follow you anywhere."

The twisted irony is that the two of you could pick up any woman, anyone at all.

"I think it’s a discussion for another day," you tell her, serious. She laughs out loud.

"Which one? Who Karina wants, or that you're aching every bit as much as I am to spread her out on our bed and fuck her? Because I'm pretty sure we can both agree that at this point-"

Your palm curls around the nape of her neck with a touch of on-your-feet-thinking: one of these moments that lets Irene sit with the knowledge of how small she really is against you, her head against the collar of your coat, chin angled just so to look up at your face. And there's only a beat that passes between your fingers in her hair, tugging gently as her hand releases to your waist, her teeth clipping against the press of your lips, before a cab pulls up right next to you. You kiss her hard. It probably looks cinematic.

If for nothing other than to give Karina one less thing to overhear when she comes back outside to join you.

"Really not the time," you whisper right into the subtle twist of her grin. Her cigarette's gone out in the snowy mess, but Irene smirks deeper in response before throwing it onto the wet concrete. She grinds it beneath her boot like a reminder, her hand still firm on your hip.

"What, you don't think it’d make her day? Don’t think she'd want to hear all those kinds of thoughts running together through our heads?"

You pull Irene in closer. “She’s not you.”

-

For context - only so you’re aware how it all starts - it wasn’t actually New Year’s Eve, even though everyone had been drinking like it were.

Also for context, it’s not something you were strictly invited to either. Irene’s company holds this holiday party at the end of every year where all of their employees show up (read: idols; Irene likes to argue about work sometimes - to which you have never contested the value of her labor - but your brain tends to fuzz out in the middle, and instead you mostly just watch her pretty mouth in motion). All of the high-up executives and department heads bring their uptight wives and girlfriends to some restaurant ballroom for a cocktail reception that only really functions for name dropping, or influencing the media, or placing side bets on who is sleeping with the CFO - or whose mistress might show up unexpectedly and meet someone's wife face-to-face for the very first time.

It happens to someone Irene knows, once. You pray every year it will happen again.

Be that as it may, there are a plethora of other terrible ways to spend an evening and a half, but it’s all laid bare in Irene's contract - attendance being mandatory; enjoyment excessively optional.

And sure, it’s taken time, but you have gotten used to it: the industry, all of its excess, the inevitable display, the million and one things required of Irene that you, on the other hand, will simply never be able to relate to.

The machine’s so fine-tuned and tightly wound, like clockwork.

"Yeah, whatever," she had said, leaning her hip against your bathroom sink earlier in the day. Her dress laid out neatly across your bed, already pressed, set with her heels and jewelry, everything set on schedule to the point of absurdity.

And so it goes.

You can hear her brushing her teeth through the open door - and see her profile through the hand-swiped-fog on the mirror. She drags the toothbrush to the corner of her mouth: "And before you even ask, yes, you have to come. That's the deal. That's always been the deal - bored, or busy, or trapped talking to some social climbing board member who’s realized the liquor flows fast and free - I don’t wanna hear about it. You’ll be there."

"Uh-huh," you say, eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror.

"Look, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she adds, spits, and lets the faucet run, “but this one’s shaping up to be a really long night.” 

You watch the meticulous effort to pull her dark hair back into a low, neat bun as she turns and comes back into the bedroom, tossing her hair clip onto the bed to reclaim later. 

“So I guess, pace yourself or something.”

"Ever the salesman, Irene," you say, facetious.

"Um, saleswoman, thank you." Her words are slightly muffled by a silk tank top pulled on over her head, then down the flat length of her body until it hits the tops of her thighs. 

It’s not a matter of opinion that she'll look gorgeous in the stilettos, the dress - those earrings that catch light wherever it dares touch her. She'll smile her practiced grin. It'll probably taste sour after the hundredth person asks how long it's been and she tells them she can't remember. But then look - Irene here, still perfectly disheveled: her damp-darkened hair sticking to the porcelain skin of her neck, skin washed free of makeup. She’s beautiful. In a plain and simple way, simple-but-good. Even with the tight little scowl she shoots your direction. It’s a look she has to know could launch a thousand ships; could start a real, actual war; though you're far too charming to know how to fight - you’ve never seen the appeal.

Irene's teeth tug at the corner of her lip like she knows you'd probably end up dying in it. She puts forward this unassuming, nonchalant, “hey.”

She muses it right into a laugh. Covers her genuine smile with her fingers.

"Hey," is how you answer, always.

You’re noticing, now, the strap of her top has fallen just down the petite slope of her shoulder. You want to get your fingers beneath it. Maybe get her back in the shower. You’re never too picky.

And here: an unspoken demand, the thing that always gets you about her - while Irene stands in front of you, her finger looped between the top buttons of your shirt to draw you close. The bow of her lip perked ever-so-slightly, this soft pucker - all pretty in pink. "Before I slip into this dress, you’re going to push me against something sturdy and kiss me until I'm dizzy," she instructs, calm and methodical.

"A lot," you continue for her. You nod seriously, for a moment. "Dizzying."

She closes her eyes and leans in, and you lean into her, too. "Yeah, exactly," she ends up murmuring under a hot breath. "So, get to it.”

And so it goes, and so it goes.

-

"Have a drink," someone keeps saying.

As a matter of fact, they all do: four shots together - or one old-fashioned, or two vodka seltzers, or three of these mystery concoctions that come in a tall-stemmed glass you didn’t actually catch the name of, and jesus, it fucking reeks of prosecco. You pace yourself, within reason. You really do.

Irene gets elusive under the surface, which is to say, she doesn't change at all - not even at the edges.

And though everyone is here to be seen, only a few actually do any of the talking. Irene has it covered - you do your time.

Happy New Year, sorta. You wait it out.

-

She tastes like everything sweet, strong on her heels and sharper on her tongue - and sometimes, it’s not the best mix, given all you can manage is the touch and scent of Irene without actually getting at the insides of her thighs or that tempting stretch of skin under her ear, her neck, down to her chest.

This much, and she has no complaint - hardly seems surprised or inconvenienced - to you stepping her into the wall like it's a matter of instinct.

She just sighs, a short huff. "Don't miss these kinds of parties," she then confesses, right into your mouth, her warm exhale filling you whole. The sounds of people laughing and champagne glasses clicking nearby, a new song starting up, it's all an unnecessary backdrop, and Irene isn't distracted by a single bit of it.

Character, setting, scene; it’s all rather textbook, no? 

You know what the sounds mean, the soft hums, the lingering touches, the firm press of your palm into the dip of her waist or the slender line of her back. She knows where all the cameras are because she knows everything that anyone could possibly ever want to know, such as the fact that this empty stairwell is a perfect place to start, that there isn't a real plan as to where this might go - or when it should end.

And you should know where not to press - or bite or grab or leave a mark - not in some liminal space, nor some vacant practice-room, not beneath a desk, not behind a curtain. No, not here, cloaked in shadow and secrecy, another scandal in the making. Not that the knowledge stops you from testing out the lines, from drawing little patterns up Irene's waist, slipping one hand along the barest skin where her dress has hitched up along her thigh. To a boundary, the low pitch of her voice, some suggestion like, "not here, are you serious?" mumbled across your lips like it really doesn't matter what gets said or does not.

She’s pinned so properly, so precisely, that the discord between her gentle coaxing, and your hard, bruising edge - that sheer incongruity between what you should do and what you should not - can make the adrenaline spike.

She kisses you harder - and harder, and harder. She catches the small sigh you let out. She kisses you breathless.

You can’t shake the feeling that you’re wasting an opportunity, given that you’re both dressed to the nines and are usually more homebody than anything else. Isn’t that the irony of fame? You sign up for an escape, and spend your life running away.

Irene eventually sinks back into the soles of her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist, and she smiles so easy. She tugs at the cuffs of your jacket, sets your collar flat and proper.

"I'm thinking," you hear her say, taking stock for herself, the flush high in her cheeks, the tousled sort-of-curls now bared, "in half an hour, if you feel like leaving early, we could, oh, I don't know - escape?"

Escape to a bed with a door that locks, you assume she means. Irene wants; you deliver - however she'd like.

“Sounds tempting,” you tell her. She laughs against your shoulder. "Are you waiting on someone else to sweep you off your feet, maybe? Another offer?"

"Uh, always," she scoffs. It's the little things, confidence, and certainty, the honest-in-practice; how her palms sit soft and secure, cupping the angle of your jaw, one hand, now, toying with the knot of your tie like she's contemplating just how it might fall off of you later. Irene shrugs, leaning her weight back against the wall.

She taps a finger to her lips. Ends up saying, very solemn: "Thirty minutes."

As if you had any intention of absconding without her.

-

Irene holds true to her word - she catches you on the second to last pass around the banquet room. Some executive with a slack mouth is just launching into what sounds to be a spiel about a merger - it's unimportant, not well-versed, so Irene sidles up to you, and immediately steals your attention. It doesn't bother you in the least. She curls her finger into the cuff of your jacket sleeve, and without really being prompted or asked - and only, probably, due to the clear discomfort she has being there with anyone else - she begins dragging you out of the room; you, her ticket out of hell.

"I'm so sorry," Irene dons the industry smile and is probably charming. It's difficult for you to tell. You follow her blindly. "So sorry," she tells someone else as you exit, just before you both disappear entirely, "We're leaving. But, we'll see you next year, promise!"

A real celebrity.

The two of you suddenly a duo - and for everyone’s safety, the way it should probably always ought to be - here’s how it’s all supposed to go:

You, standing almost amidst a bank of snow gathered at the curb, your coat fanned out around Irene, shivers racking up her slight frame. All hidden just enough that if anyone were to notice where your hand ends up arriving at the narrow of her waist, they might think: 'it's not really any of my business,' and look away.

Her, curled beneath your touch - even the single press of your fingers over the small of her back as a stranger pulls a car up to the curb; or, the pull of you that ensures the driver can't actually see what you're both up to, what you're hiding; the little reach she makes into your pocket for a lighter, smiling appreciatively as she presses her cold face to the crook of your arm, your jaw, the juncture of your neck; a safe space.

“So.” Irene will look up at you, pale moonlight gathered in her lashes. She’ll make another face: this thousand kilowatt grin or her brow raising - sharp, quick, there-then-gone. She'll turn the lighter over in her hand once, twice, and say, “how long has it been since we’ve done anything social?”

You’ll know it’s not what she means, but you’ll offer her the out anyway: "could go downtown - there's a place you've probably never been to. Might even play your style of music, if you're really lucky."

Irene will arch her eyebrow as she raises the cigarette to her mouth, lit up before you know it.

"Is that right?" she'll say, dismissive, a smoky tendril curling up over city neon and catching starlight.

You're no stranger to what’s actually being suggested - an unspoken sort of arrangement. All because Irene sees herself as being above, hiding her intentions in euphemism, tact; in long, slow drags; in lilting lashes - while she's fully and shamelessly aware there's nothing virtuous about it.

Who the hell else could make it sound dignified, pretty even: ménage à trois.

Then, you’ll do your part. You’ll help interpret: another girl, gorgeous and probably unclothed, another bad decision, or two, the three of you finding yourselves back in your apartment where Irene will not hesitate to run her tongue up the side of a sweat-glistened neck, to tilt her head and whisper out a mantra of, honey, sweetie, anybody ever tell you how good you look between a woman’s legs? Or, fuck, let’s get you out of those jeans, let me take you all in, how the fuck have we not gotten our hands on you before?

Which means the question you really ought to be asking sounds more like, “maybe we can invite someone over?”

You’ll meet her eyes as they flick up - a lazy expression, easy to read. "Bingo," she’ll say, blowing smoke and even more caution to the wind.

Almost to a fault, everything she does draws attention. Every fool with a blog and a camera posted outside of an event will have her labeled on-sight. You can already see the headline - because the only thing worse than everyone thinking you're the antagonist is looking the part. The imagery, red carpet, sexy evening dress, sultry, regal. The caption, Bae Joohyun - they use her government name like they really know her - sulking in smoke, or thirty flirty and thriving? below a thumbnail of her holding the cigarette, with your suit jacket draped over her shoulders. She's a total tabloid darling. Irene the temptress, or Irene, ice in her veins, or Irene - "How does she look so fucking gorgeous without makeup?!" or "Do I wanna hate her, or wanna be her? @RedFlavor_ROYAL," or "In every shot I feel like Irene has me staring into her soul."

Add that to the fact the girl’s utterly shrouded in myth.

Everyone running amuck with speculation; she's the girl-next-door, she’s the fantasy-in-real-life, she's someone everyone could see themselves fucking - she’s the heroine they say, the villain, the perfect wife, the one-that-got-away. They never do decide.

Though there’s only one opinion she’ll concern herself with, and only on occasion: yours.

Her fingers will come in the dark to trail feather-light from your collarbone, between the rise and fall of your shirt buttons, before pressing open palmed to your chest to still right there, and she's such a pretty thing in the plain black dress, all yours and very much in the mood - which you'll already have reason to know, in part from having felt your way around her no more than a hour prior, but also just the way Irene's been looking at you from beneath her dark lashes all evening, that subtle predatory gleam in her eyes.

You’ll hold her close. Irene will have the audacity to comment, “love you,” in this delicate little whisper, quiet like it could go either way - affection or gratitude. Maybe a touch of both.

A car will shortly arrive, pulling up to the curb with snow melting under its tires, headlights in your eyes, and then finally, in no particular order, your heart hammering: the click of the lighter, the falling ash, the sweet easy laugh, the crunch of ice under foot as she steps down beside you, the soft sweep of your arm.

You have no complaints about the proposal. A lack of argument or dispute is basically the same thing as consent, isn't it? For all intents and purposes, as a whole, it's really kind of a win-win:

Irene needs variety, which you're well aware of. It's only natural for someone who can have anything they want. And, sure, you happen to be a willing participant when it comes to satisfying the occasional whim.

So - the conversation will follow you right into the backseat of the cab, simply to iron out the details. 

“Tall. Beautiful. Soft, soft, soft - like cashmere, a luxury brand," Irene will have one heel off and her knee braced up into the back seat while the other leg extends across your thighs, fingers running along your coat collar to make idle circles against the exposed skin there. "Or, at the very least, someone with a little more bend to their character - you know how those prim and proper types always get a bit lost in you.”

"And wouldn’t you know."

It’ll sound smooth, probably. Irene will roll her eyes.

“So, okay,” you'll return to her, right after instructing the cabbie how to get to Irene's place. None of the implications here are lost on you. “You have anyone particular in mind?”

"Hm, I’m thinking."

You can picture it, roughly: Irene's whole body sunk into the dark corner of the seat - one leg idling over the other. Her foot bouncing at your thigh. She has her heels in one hand, earrings in the other.

She’ll look wistfully out the window; the intermittent flashes of city lights casting her face in different hues. The curve of her jaw; the stately line of her nose; her thick black lashes - composition and subject. It's this kind of attention to detail that the cameras scramble to pick up. It’d be better if they got it for the right reasons.

You’ll pull out your phone. Start the usual scroll from the top of your contacts. The girls you know, the girls you don't, the ones who might be awake or who definitely are, regardless of time of day or night.

Irene will finally perk up, gleaming.

Someone cute, she might say, only because she'd rather not admit, someone like me. There's limits to her vanity insofar as her taste - in all sorts of things.

But she does like the idea of it. Someone young and pretty and impressionable; someone naive, or tiny and helpless; it's never difficult to find the girl who will fawn over her - all wide-eyed and doe-faced the instant Irene floats her fingers across her collarbone, smirking - when she starts at the zipper at the back of her neckline and says, "we’re going to see how wet I can get you," without missing a beat. Someone who will eventually say please when Irene gets a little stern and tells her, "ask me what I'm gonna do to you," in a rasp so smoky that it would make the cigarette seem blasé.

But that, you suppose, is the nature of Irene. A touch domineering. A little more than just a pretty face.

She always takes, but she takes gently - a push here, a pull there, she knows people will give her anything.

It will be more obvious when there's a small voice trembling between the two of you, twisted up in your sheets and simpering with the gentle sort of affection that Irene deals so expertly: two fingers sliding up, pressing down. Curling, beckoning. Slow and tender, without giving up that she's looking for any soft spot; a weak point. Some vulnerability to exploit.

It'll be right after whichever plaything of the hour pulls her lips off yours, off the length of your fingers - or when she unfastens her mouth from the hard shape of your cock with an obnoxiously loud pop: "do you guys do this kind of thing often?"

And Irene, without even an ounce of hesitation, will rip right into the sheer of her stockings, letting out an aggressively casual laugh. She’ll plant a kiss somewhere deep. Say, "oh, honey," as she nuzzles into the crease of her thigh. "We're pretty new to this too."

Everyone, just - believes her. For the same reason you suppose they believe she's perfect. She’s good, really good at all this.

In the taxi, Irene's foot will continue to tap against your leg, until you're stopping her by covering her knee with your hand. As for now, the evening will remain all but written in stone. You'll run a hand through your hair, you’ll lean an elbow against the window - the whole while, ignoring the sudden itch between your shoulder blades at the thought of something else. At the thought of all the other girls who'll take an instant liking to her. Who wouldn't. 

The light will change. The intersection will empty. The radio will turn to static.

You'll eventually offer up a name like, "Jennie Kim," among others. Moving alphabetically down your contacts list. Taking you a long while to make it through the 'K's.

"Hm." Irene's soft hum of disapproval, non-committal. "Are you asking, or telling?"

The difference won't matter. "I'm suggesting," you'll say.

You’ll watch how Irene turns the name over in her mouth a few times before smiling - how she knows, there's the smallest part of you that has her held in a certain light. "Maybe," she'll say, tapping her phone against her cheek in the contemplation of whether or not this is a tentative no or a provisional yes - when really what she'll avoid an answer with is, "aren’t we a little tired of Jen?"

Tough to say.

Good, sweet, and just naive enough to get twisted up between you, in her case. Oh, Jennie’s the type of girl - you'll stuff your cock in her pretty little cunt while leaning into her, taking her arms and pinning them to the base of her spine, so she can't reach and can't claw and can't make an utter fucking wreck of herself. The two of you have known Jennie for too long, is what will strike you then. And a moment later, the idea of sinking into her ass from behind with your palm flat and warm against her hip and your voice husky and deep in the way she likes, and saying, god, fuck, Jen, you’d let me do anything wouldn’t you, you’d let me cum in here too.

And - she would, really.

She wouldn't even complain. Her face would be pressed so firmly against Irene's thighs, and she would whimper, not beg. Even though you know it’s what Irene might prefer; how it makes her look real cute - cheeks stained crimson as the syllables roll around her tongue before being forced out into the open.

"I think she's great," you might say out loud, lowkey.

And in a voice that is louder than strictly necessary, Irene will cut in: "she lets you finish in her ass, and then not even three minutes later she'll say it was the best lay of her life, of course you do."

It’ll make the cab driver clear his throat.

"What you’re saying is ‘no.’"

Irene will frown, thoughtful, but not conceding anything - perhaps she means hold onto that thought for now. If nothing else sounds particularly enticing, we'll call it a maybe. "I’m saying: Jennie is. I don't know."

You can hear the end of her sentence: not quite good enough. Not this time around, but someday, sure, someday soon.

"And for the record," Irene will follow, casual, with a dismissive hand wave. "Just because you got to her first doesn't mean she's ever liked you more."

The few that fall afterwards will never make the cut. Irene will turn them all down. Jisoo - no, sorry, look, she's so, so pretty, Irene will be trying to explain, gesturing in a way that's hard to interpret. "But a little too stuck up for my tastes."

You've been speaking in code for years. She means: way, way, way too straight.

"The blonde though," Irene will try right after that. “Daisy, or Lily, oh god something or another, what was her name-”

"Um, do you mean Rosé?”

“Yeah.” Irene will sink back into the leather, sipping down a memory or two and shifting her skirt up the top of her thighs.

You'll consider the angle. Your options: Rosé on her knees right inside the foyer of your apartment, Irene's hands wrapped tightly in her hair, controlling the rhythm. The way she gets her fingers spread under Irene's knees and draws her forward, pushing up with her eager, prying mouth - licks and licks, nosing against the heat of Irene's pussy until she’s gasping and locking her hands around the younger girl's head to steady the jerk of her hips.

Then, you'll laugh out loud. Because you know, Rosie isn’t anywhere close to straight enough. 

And the back-and-forth of what-ifs and could-bes will follow. An endless string, a laundry list. Where Irene makes a face for every name, every suggestion: too messy, or too innocent, or too sweet, or too boring, or not nearly shy or gullible enough, or whatever other bizarre caveat she finds to slot between all of her impassioned criticisms. The cabbie will be shaking his head at some point too, because the question hangs over the taxi at large: 

What exact criteria could possibly be good enough for the distinguished tastes and sensibilities of Bae Irene?

-

(The truth is: it doesn’t go like that at all.)

-

Enter then, Yu Jimin.

The run-in starts there, downstairs, out standing in a pool of warm, yellow light. The snow flurrying about in the glow of a street lamp - melting into where her smoothed curtain of jet-black hair spills over her shoulder and trickles down her sleeve. She looks a little cold, but not noticeably shivering. There's a red flush to the exposed length of her legs, between a pair of knee-high boots and the short hem of the coat itself. The stockings underneath offer little in the way of wintery protection - nor do the little bows that rest at the the bands of elastic around her soft, pale thighs - though it's obvious to anyone who's looking why she'd choose to wear them.

An assay into form over function. She's never cared for pragmatism.

But the lines around her are pristine, a clean-cut of shadow and substance; you take a step onto the curb, feeling yourself fall right into the foreground.

Look: you know Karina. You both do. Enough to recognize where it’s calmest before a storm.

Irene eventually calls out her name into the silence, and there is a split-second where her fingers reflexively wrap around the crook of your elbow. Almost possessive.

A car rushes by. Karina turns with her ungloved hand holding her cellphone to her ear and she's fucking gorgeous as can be, always pinning you with these big, unapologetic eyes - strikingly and somewhat deceptively innocent beneath her sharp brows. A breathy huff in response; she's otherwise unaffected.

Her shoulders shrug in easy dismissal; a quirk of the corners of her mouth. She slips her phone back in the pocket of her pea-coat. "Oh, how we all doing?"

Not for long, the question lingers.

"Fine," Irene finally replies, though her voice doesn't rise above a disinterested murmur.

"Easier, right? To fight for breath down here than it is up there," she says, pointing her gaze up high into the rafters of the building, and in a lot of ways, you realize, she's just like Irene - sweet, charming, this uncanny ability to make you think she's close, when she isn't actually looking to share anything. When she hasn't exactly decided that she likes you or anything at all.

You squint slightly. Take in where her silhouette appears darker against the backdrop of city lights, blending with the velvety black, bleeding into the ink-smudged night sky.

"There's certainly something to be said for flying under the radar at these things," she continues, taking one step closer towards you as if for comfort. Or privacy - to guard against anyone who might walk by.

"You've still got it easy," Irene says, "that, and everyone thinks you're too pretty to go after. No one even seems to consider the idea, it’s insufferable."

"Jealous?" Her tone is playful. There’s a smirk she’s suppressing - until she can’t hold it in: an unexpected, stunning smile, dimple and all. This incongruously kind face.

Oh, and listen, no one gets it better than Irene.

"No," Irene exhales, hot. “Not at all.” You can see where the thin plume of her breath hangs over her like a cloud for a moment, thinking, before dissipating against the harshness of a frigid December breeze.

"Really." She smiles at you again. Makes a sound that could be a laugh, you don’t know, the wind takes it, far away.

"Are you out here waiting for someone?" you have to ask. 

"Loaded question." Karina purses her lips for a moment. Her long eyelashes blink once, twice. "Because, I dunno, aren't we all?"

"Some of us more than others." Irene speaks quietly, moreso to herself than anyone else - but somehow her voice carries.

"Cheeky," Karina says, and this time she does laugh. "No. I'm waiting for a cab. I've had one hell of a night, and no interest in spending the rest of it in some rising socialite's bed, doubters excluded, because - look, I'm happy for you guys, I guess? You're gonna get married," she claps slowly, slow and mocking, slow enough that Irene rolls her eyes, "-or, the two of you will make a statement saying that you are - either way it sounds fucking exhausting - congratulations to you both. But seriously, congrats."

This is sorta how you've always known her. 

Faintly-hinted secrets, flirty half-truths. Her love life is an utter wreck, but that’s not something you’re supposed to know. So that's all she gives, which is more or less how everyone knows her. It's the only way to survive, probably, in a world of glitter and glamour, when everyone's vying to look, to feel, to take, and take, and take. Irene knows how suffocating it can be - she doesn’t lie about it, not to you, which is the only reason you're so well-versed.

Point being, no one wants to admit to any cracks in the fantasy; the gold too shiny, the surface too slick, the mirror too smooth for that illusion to slip.

"So go grab a guy with a half-decent smile and get him to buy you a drink about it," Irene suggests, derisive, "arch your back, push your tits out, get creative. I doubt it'll be much trouble at all."

Karina looks down, back up - with a slight chew of her lip, saying, "you just have me beat in all the important ways, I suppose. You got it in the bag, no real competition."

Irene is smiling, but her expression is unimpressed; it doesn’t mean much, really, to be her friend, her colleague, or worse, her opponent. Irene is calm like an evening in July, a low, cool, languid feeling. "I don't mean to be a prick, but, aren't you a little young to be so jaded?"

"Gosh," Karina’s grin doesn’t change, but does turn a touch wicked, like she's biting back. "I'd hate to be around when you do mean to be a prick, but maybe we'll find out - you know, down the line, someday.”

Irene tuts softly. It sounds patronizing. "Please, you'll have to forgive me - for mistaking you for someone more aware of how the rest of us work."

“You're one to talk, Irene."

“Careful,” Irene warns.

"What, you gonna set me straight?"

"Right." The way the word rolls off Irene's tongue, slow, thick, bitter, like molasses; like the coffee she has when she's tired, like the cigarette she swears left and right she’s cutting out and the vodka she needs you to reach for in the upper cabinets, like the person she is after midnight when you've let her keep drinking to find the limits to her inhibition. You understand Irene too well. And no matter what anyone says, you will not have the facts wrong.

There's no kindness to the way she laughs. None.

She tilts her head to you, grinning: an honest grin, her favorite thing - inimitable, unique, and hers alone; her version of cruelty is what will always have them doubting. You hold her gaze as she adds, "of all things, right now - wouldn’t you just love to set her straight?"

-

Depending on who you ask, you’ll get different results.

Irene insists you kissed Karina first, probably out there in the snow - god knows how cliche would that be.

She also insists that it was you who suggested that “there’s a lot more sense in splitting a cab,” and then minutes later, “please, it'd be no trouble, just let us pay. Our place is five blocks that way," and Irene - being Irene - mentioning it's actually quite a bit further, but hey, it isn’t worth splitting hairs over. And it's not worth explaining - she shuts you up with another kiss, pressing her weight hard up against you, the arm she slings around your neck.

Then in a sort of mythologized version of the timeline, it's you who makes the proposition - invites Karina upstairs, with the charm that Irene knows is usually reserved for her benefit alone: that slight tick of the brow, the delicate slant of your mouth, the confidence you seem to have in thinking no one will ever say no, no matter how brusque the invitation-

"You two are unbelievable. Is this really your standard procedure?" Karina asks, once you're through the door, or maybe during a bout of smalltalk in the kitchen. Something flirtatious; and suggestive, and maybe a little offhand. A pointed glance downwards, back up. All it really will take. "You get some girl into your home and they're just so overwhelmed and dazzled and in love, they can't even make eye contact for longer than a second? Because that's quite a line," a soft huff, the exhale that seems to carry the faintest note of a sigh. You could call it wistful. Just this side of romantic; very attractive.

“That’s more or less the gist of it,” you offer.

“You’d be surprised.” Irene is lingering on it, back against the counter beside you, laughing. "Some people are more than happy to be swept off their feet."

"Imagine that. If that's how this is meant to go, then tell me," and Karina lifts her chin, a breath drawn slow and deliberate, "what exactly do prince and princess charming do next?"

Consider that Karina’s interpretation of events is closer to reality: no pretense. She is not drunk, and in this story, she never will be.

But it's the slow-burn thing, the rivals-to-lovers thing, the sexual-tension-through-conflict thing, the white-hot-blistering-rage matter gone awry. Not a series of happy accidents, but a result of intentional circumstance - this slow arc of descent. She knows exactly how Irene is tightly wound, and which thread to pull to make everything start to unravel. She'd flirt with you right under her nose - say things in this obnoxiously girlish tone, pout a lot, lean into so much innuendo it becomes impossible to miss the meaning, or the sincerity behind it.

If you had to guess - Karina’s been pining since forever, since Irene accidentally etched her DNA into the girl upon saying, carelessly, that she’d always seen some part of herself in Karina. Probably around the time Irene wrapped a palm over an expanse of bare thigh, just beneath the hem of her skirt, telling her, you're getting way too pretty for your own good.

Doesn’t matter who you are, that’ll fuck you up for real.

And it's not just how she looks at Irene when she thinks no one is watching either; swings and roundabouts, Karina probably can’t keep the thought of you sprawled out over Irene’s petite little frame, or Irene kissing you hard while wrapped around you tight. Your hand, her hand, intertwined and picturesque, sliding down Irene's stomach. Together - and so very without her - fingertips stroking lightly over Irene’s clit, gently dipping inside her.

Irene is not stupid. She picks up on everything, and there's a lot to unpack:

"Can you believe it? Minjeong just asked me if I've ever kissed a girl before," Karina had said to you once, ages ago, between a workout or dance practice, something or another - she was wearing a loose-fit tank top and very intent on showing off. She seemed then to be taking mental note of the face Irene put on, the look of someone trying to hold in an aneurysm.

“Well,” you played along, because you’re not really without blame here either. "Have you?"

"Oh my god." Karina knew what she awas doing, the playful slap to the chest, the lingering touches she’d have on you every chance she could get - total fucking coquette - anything to get a rise out of you, your fiancée. She hushed her voice down to this strategic whisper that Irene could just overhear: "of course not."

You better believe Irene broke her composure not soon afterwards, after Karina made her exit. 

"Do not fuck her," she demanded, firm, "I don't care how good you think she might be in bed, or what she would probably let you get away with."

You remember the knit of her brow.

“Do not.”

You’re sighing, profoundly. The memory - not to mention its shocking clarity - has put a smug sort of satisfaction into your bones, indulging. The nip to Karina's jaw, a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder. A hand tracing down the curve of her hips, under the guise of helping her settle between the cushions of the couch. You feel like you catch the color flooding her cheeks. Then, Irene, her pretty little shadow: the steady presence over her other shoulder.

"What." Karina sounds defensive when Irene pulls her lips away, but the hand she has buried in Irene's hair doesn’t appear to be going anywhere. "Are we going to pretend for a minute I don't see the way you're both looking at me right now?"

"Don't be stupid, darling, of course not." Irene leans up close again. Kisses up her neck, behind her ear, and coos, "the two of us, you just seemed like you were needing someone, that's all," and then whispers the words, barely audible: "I mean look, who wouldn't want the three of us right now?"

Karina hums. "Ah, so - you think I deserve to have a little fun."

"Maybe," she draws it out a little longer.

Your hands dip below her knees, running over the silk-slick surface, tugging at the frills lining her thighs - feeling up over the outline of where her body curves under her dress. Over the dark pattern printed across the front.

Karina swallows visibly, her head dropping back against the armrest, the couch cushion; by the way she shudders slightly and starts breathing, you realize that it's probably been a while since she's had much experience being in a position this helpless. You draw your fingers lightly across the bareness of her skin, right as Irene finds that sensitive spot just where her neck slopes to her collarbone. You trace along the fabric until you have her squirming beneath you both.

She sucks in a breath as Irene drags a touch right over the obvious seam, across the expanse of her hip, and despite your fiancée being a tad forward -

"Both of you should know I'm not that type of girl. Who puts out so easily-"

"Likewise," Irene practically sneers, not missing a beat and threading her fingers beneath her jaw, feeling her pulse against the pad of her thumb.

"Yeah, well. If this isn't a setup, then, what-"

“A setup.” Irene breathes the word out, contemptuous, which is almost as if she says yes, you figured it out, and she starts to lean in closer - the distance between the two of them now negligible as her mouth tightens with her derision. "That is awfully conceited of you."

"Ha."

You choose right there to run your palm between her thighs and cup at the front of her pussy through the skirt of her dress, squeezing tightly. There has to be an element of good cop, bad cop to this whole routine, and you'd be remiss not to participate in the former. Irene's glare is starting to become pretty intimidating.

"The way I see it," you begin, and it's so gentle. Easy to slip through, but easy enough to grip - no threat, or indication that she should stop rocking forward to the motion of your fingers, toying idly. "There's no catch. Only: Irene calls the shots. If you end up with a crush, or worse, think you're in love," a light squeeze to illustrate the point, the dig of nails, not too rough, but definitely drawing attention. "You've gotta walk it off.”

Karina just runs her tongue across her lips, sighing.

“No strings attached, no special treatment. Or anything."

"Oh." Karina is looking straight at you, dazed - as your fingers work harder, picking up where her hips started rolling a second before. She licks her lips. "You're telling me that I'm going to get fucked so thoroughly here, that it's gonna be a problem."

"Actually," you pull away, pushing her dress up so you can touch up ever higher this time. Rooting between her soft thighs. "I can't make any guarantees. You'll need to convince us first."

There's a laugh, from a spot inside her diaphragm - and yeah, there's no denying the reality here. She's nervous; or excited; or nervous-excited. Karina just lets it pass, an exaggerated sound in her throat, before gasping on an exhale of breath: "convince you to fuck me?"

"Between us, we've kissed our fair share of pretty girls in the heat of the moment," Irene supplies.

Karina laughs. Starts saying, "in that case, can I start by confessing that this whole exchange has left me pretty fucking wet-" 

You slip one finger down the rise of her panties, this lacy little number she probably picked out with sordid fantasy in mind. 

"Oh god," she says, voice drowned in her throat, husky, and sultry - it’s really hard not to appreciate the girl, like this - and then she closes her eyes, saying it again, "oh, yeah, like - like that. Okay, thank you."

Irene puts a hot kiss into her lips, and a subjugating silence stills over the living room, softening around her small voice, her breathing. Everything comes together so seamlessly, so effortlessly: 

The click of Irene’s heels against hardwood, these soft sounds of wet tongues twisting and bodies grinding, Karina's face, buried somewhere under Irene's chin, letting out the cutest moan. Irene's helping the rest of the dress up over Karina's ass, then up past her waist, pulling down the scalloped elastic of her stockings. She grabs hold of her hips, feeling the draw of her curves there - you watch how your other half does the thing she does best, the thing where she strips a girl down to nothing like she's doing them a favor.

"Pretty," Irene appraises her naked body - not her face, not her mind, not her ambition or the strength of her determination, or god forbid, something banal like her personality, but, "fuck, look at you, look at this figure," her palm skates along the plane of her stomach, "so pretty."

It could be the insinuation: Irene is ready to reduce the girl down to a heap of jumbled nerves; to tears, probably - given half the chance. Like she's telling her a body as flawless and well-manicured and sweetly receptive to being toyed with as hers needs to get absolutely wrecked, among other things.

(Fucked so deeply, and to the point of utter exhaustion - the point is that she forgets her own name.) 

Irene knows just by looking, her eyes tracing down each and every one of Karina’s curves like they’re taking inventory. It could be as simple as a handprint seared into her ass, a stinging red stain etched into her soft, creamy white skin, marking the insides of her thighs, her beautiful fucking tits - oh, the things the two of you could do.

"How do you want it, exactly?" Irene's eyes are dancing around her face, in her stare, darting down, then back up. "How, baby."

Karina smiles against Irene’s lips like she knows the answer, the perfect one. She must already have the script prepared. It's no stretch of the imagination: "anything, as long as it means you both keep looking at me."

Because maybe it's down to the pure physicality of it all. Something Karina's been waiting to feel, desperate to have, for some time - as you set into action, dismantling any pretense that you weren’t about to devour the heat of her aching cunt, from running touches all over her slick pussy. It’s a strong theory, you figure, from the visceral response you get when you get start to fuck her, when you slide a finger inside: tight and snug, and so unbelievably wet. 

“Oh,” she breathes out, and it sounds sated and needy all at once.

You make sure to glance at her face before pressing another into her. All the way past the knuckles. She looks lost to the feeling, the pleasure; her expression gone hazy-eyed as you start fucking into her with a few steady pumps of your wrist - slow and then faster, then faster again - fucking into her with increasing urgency.

Just to keep her gasping, panting.

Like a woman starved for it.

"God," Irene kisses softly into her mouth. Her hand tangled in Karina's hair, twisting strands between her fingers and tugging just shy of something painful, "you're really sensitive, aren't you?"

Karina nods, slightly. It’s all she can manage.

You have a soft spot for girls who will spread themselves open like they can't wait, but still end up flustered over how your lips ghost across aching flesh. Who can't even form the words - asking for this, and that, and a million little things; and look at Karina - blushing, her eyes fluttering closed, and digging her nails into the couch the moment you finally put your hot mouth on her. Her entire body is drawn taut like a live wire.

"Relax," you coax, speaking more to the muscle - her legs tensed, and knees pulled tightly together. You know just where to place your lips to make her go to pieces, but it's worth suspending pleasure - your own, and Irene's, who won't admit that this sorta turns her on too - so Karina's face might open up, so the tilt of her brow can slack, and the twist of her expression can soften. Like it's the only chance she'll ever get.

When you place your palm across Karina's stomach to steady her and look up, Irene has started peeling off her own clothes, down to nothing but the little panties underneath. That garter-belt thing that makes her ass look like she was sculpted straight out of clay - a reminder she's always worth your time, no matter what mood she's in, or whether or not she'll eventually let you take the lead. She's lifting herself on the couch to throw off the little slip of a dress, the high heels. “Baby," she purrs, teasing, maybe to distract from how she’s gone from dragging circles with her fingernails across Karina’s collarbones to kneading roughly at her tits. And she might even insert something she's never actually had a chance to confess out loud, or even consider much, like: she's been dying to know what Karina's face will scrunch up into, or what her eyes will look like, tears stained across her lashes while you fuck her within an inch of her life. The image you’ll find when you find all those spots that drive a girl wild.

Your mouth drags over the slick, her lips, her clit, and down again - as if to illustrate the point.

"That feels - so," she starts, and bites off the rest of the words.

Irene grabs hold of Karina's hands. Presses their mouths back together, and bites Karina's bottom lip. Kissing the words out of her, the sentences that start in half measures and stifled gasps:

"- so, good, oh. Do - ah, fuck. Oh, god-"

-and vanish somewhere in Irene's mouth.

"-oh, do that again. Oh my god. There. Just - lick- please, keep fucking, exactly that-"

And pay close attention, because here now is how she slips: from the image she maintains for the cameras, the audiences, her admirers, her competition, her detractors, the ones who mean it, the ones who don't mean a damn thing; the girl who shies away from anything overtly sexual, or sensual, or remotely hedonistic; and doesn't act as though she too, just as much as anyone else, needs someone to fuck her stupid - as if it's an eventuality of her own humanity, instead of a concept she's learned to scorn.

Irene picks up on the distinction, all too familiar with the look filling out across Karina’s angelic features.

She ghosts her thumbnail across Karina’s nipple. Tries out: "why don't you make her cum, baby, right here, on the couch.” A look at you, a quick tilt of the chin. Then, her tongue peeking from behind her teeth, and her voice dropping, "just so you can tell Minjeong, or whoever ends up asking - 'you have no idea how good they fuck.'"

And just like that - with Karina’s body laid out beneath Irene’s hands, your mouth - you simply fucking ruin her. 

You both do. 

Until it's only a mess of whines and shuddering limbs and that lovely look: pure agony. So helpless. So utterly exposed.

Karina hiccups something incoherent - you’re doubling down. You’re working your touches through the torrid mess between her legs. Her pussy is shimmering wet and hot and every bit as pretty as she is. Then, the motion of your tongue, the slow, heavy flick back and forth, relentless and constant - dragging back and forth, keeping her right up, riding the wave. Back and forth, back and forth. 

"Oh my fucking god." Karina can only gasp, jaw-slacked open. 

Overwhelmed and blissed-out and suddenly awash in this searing and wondrous sensation that the only real way she's able to make sense of is by twisting her hands in your hair and pulling you flush against her cunt while she cums on your lips.

"Ah - you're fucking kidding me. Please, don't stop, please don't-" Karina has her head turned. Voice pitched right into Irene's shoulder. You fuck her on two fingers until she’s got the heel of her palm pressed firm into her forehead, and she’s starting to jerk her hips into your face. Stutter her breathing, her words: “I, I, I- fucking - what the fuck, you’re making me - jesus fucking christ."

Like some delicate and intricate piece of her had just been irreparably snapped. Broken. You hear her expletive-laden screams - and think, better her, than either of you.

And all the way through every last part of it, cresting, waning, quivering, the tremble of her thighs snapped shut against your ears, the grind of her teeth, and each little choked out gasp-

“I'm… fucking cumming.”

Karina spends the entirety of her first orgasm between the two of you, heaving.

The look on her face alone, just from what parts you can see, has your lower gut clenched - it goes from anguished pleasure, mouth pulled wide and brows wound high and tight, all the way to calm and cathartic, the pretty bow of her lips settling into something manic. Eyes softening with a luster, half-closed. A mask, the afterglow: blissed-out and smiling dreamily.

How anyone could say no to a picture like this, you're unsure. Though not particularly willing to test the theory, naturally.

"That was mean," Karina finally huffs, letting a moment pass to even out her breaths. "Both of you, so mean."

"You said to," is all Irene says, amused. 

Karina looks down; lifts her head just slightly - as you bring your own mouth off her, catching her glance. Not even your palm and your fingers covered with the evidence - it's her lips that give her away, the swollen, pouting, bright pink lips of her pussy, still radiant with her climax.

She breathes, "god. Irene."

It sounds an awful lot like she's begging for mercy.

Irene hums softly. Leans in for a kiss, with her slender hands cupping Karina's face. Manages to say: "you just look so fucking hot when you're struggling. Can’t fault us for that." She reaches down, and digs her fingernail into the line of Karina's cheek - near the center, just short of the outer curve where her dimple naturally settles. She works her lips to a very soft, "ow."

"Listen," Irene says, "is there anywhere else you've been considering going? Because in the event you're looking to stay for the night-"

Karina replies, "only everywhere I still haven't gone."

Her smile looks honest. Her cunt seeping and slick - there's abundant honesty there, too. And you manage to catch the wicked glint in Irene's eye, like she's a bit obsessed with all that glisten, and what it means - that Karina hasn't felt a real, good dicking in ages. Maybe, probably, never. That she's slept with everyone and filled her quota of playing pretend: of someone just going through the motions, dragging their mouth or tongue or cunt along the most obvious, conventional routes.

It’s written all over her face: the girl between you needs to be touched everywhere, and by someone who knows how. Needs it deeper, more. Has to feel the pressure everywhere all over.

Irene asks her, plainly, “how might we get you moaning like that again, hm? We're both dying to know."

She puts her hand under Karina’s chin, tilts her face towards hers, and kisses her long and deep. Until the both of them are having trouble catching any breath. Until they have to break, only so one can take another in: inhale, exhale, and back in her mouth.

"Maybe." Karina lets go of Irene's lower lip. She sounds almost bashful, "you'll need to let me get my hands on that cock of his. Let me get it inside, want it real fucking deep inside. Tell you if I'm just, you know. Really fucking horny. Or maybe I have some hangups about sex I've never told anyone - and we have to work past that," she takes Irene's mouth into her own again.

It's the short consideration of sure, mm, why not? until the next suggestion is: "he should be on his knees, in bed, those hands around my waist, behind the small of my back and pulling me into every stroke."

“Oh,” Irene agrees, “I love that. Should I play with myself while I watch him fuck you senseless? So hard and rough - you'll start seeing stars. I wanna see him completely railing into your dripping pussy from behind, fucking you so goddamn well until you're screaming so loud it’ll wake the neighbors."

Karina sighs. “Well I’d hate to get all the way here and half-ass it.”

You barely catch it, but there's a lovely note in Karina's voice. It’s saying, and don't you dare treat me like glass, like I’m fragile.

All in all, a filthy, filthy way for a girl with virtually no ill-reputation or ill-gotten gains - no record whatsoever - to describe how she wants you to fuck her, until she’s biting down on the consonants in your name, moaning loud and unmistakably clear, and-

“-sorry, whose cock?” Irene has no intention of letting her off easy.

You draw away from the meat of her thigh, licking your lips clean, and insert mid-conversation with a husky-voiced, "hmm?"

Karina just shoots you a sharp-eyed look. "You heard."

"Only," you play dumb. You run a hand between her legs, using your palm as you go, so you can pull more sound out of her throat; the pleased sighs, a hum. Another. "The part where you want it 'real fucking deep inside,' I think I heard."

"I mean, wouldn't you?" Karina looks satisfied with that. Lets out an easy laugh and turns to Irene. "Besides, I need to know if it’s more than just pretty eyes and a handsome smile that you’ve gotten yourself so hung up on."

The tilt of your fiancée’s brow above her is noticeable and apparent. Not a twinge of surprise; more like recognition. It's Irene looking haughty - beyond the usual - wrapped up in the afterglow. It's the confidence, and not at all humbled by the reality that she is no stranger to fucking a girl this downright gorgeous, knowing the danger inherent in allowing that kind of damage, but if Irene has you figured - she's figured Karina even better: someone willing to push through the burn. Someone, she’s betting, with the capacity to handle pain like it's an artform.

“Karina,” Irene says, and she's really leaning into it, "you really ought to be more careful with that smart-mouth of yours.”

It's the absolute worst way to proposition someone; maybe second only to what Irene whispers straight into her ear:

"If I had to guess, it’s your sweet, pretty face that has everyone bending over backward just to let you fuck them, hmm?” 

You’d anticipated this much. You watch how your beautiful wife-to-be eases forward and leaves a slow kiss into Karina's throat, before adding the worst, most awful thing she can manage, “they're eating up this adorable, innocent facade of yours just as soon as you let it slip - letting you straddle their waist, and slide right on, and chase some clout out of oh, she must have this tight little cunt, or how good it would fucking feel to ruin a load just slamming these perfect tits, or. The best of the best, when it comes to pretty things with brains and mouths on 'em: 'fuck, I bet Karina has a face like an angel, she's the kind of girl who probably really, really loves taking it raw - filled and fucked as deep as she can manage'."

“She’s insinuating you’re a slut,” you offer on the next beat, down from between Karina’s knees. “Or something.”

"I put that much together." Karina has that teasingly pragmatic tone in her voice, matching Irene's level. "Your point?"

The joke is that even Irene - after she has the chance to drag her thumb across Karina's lips - looks mildly impressed.

"Sweetheart," the corner of Irene's mouth quips, as if the reason is so, so very obvious, "let’s say you’re just like me, total hypothetical. You're going to have to let us know which part feels better: the praise, or the degradation. I know it’s what makes you tick: all the attention. I know you need it. The same way I know that I could eat this perfect pussy out for hours just to get it slick, and wet, and wanting, and the thing I’m still not sure you’d be ready to learn," she tells her, a light in her stare that flicks upwards, eyes going from Karina's cunt and back to her eyes, her own mouth, and then hers, "the really good sex? Isn’t always pretty."

There isn't room for misunderstanding, let alone any mercy in it. Irene's face is dark; dangerous. Like, seriously. Karina knows better. Everyone does. You know exactly what she's doing. You know what comes next, but this time, you can't shake the feeling like-

Like Karina wants you to look.

She has her fingers on her cunt, spread, presenting - and a small shrug; her response is so fucking coy: "I guess I can't really help it. Besides, it’s common knowledge, isn’t it? The brattiest girls always turn out to be the best fucks. Honest, I get so wet sometimes, you know and then god, I can't think straight.” 

She laughs at the premise. 

“I dunno, what's a girl to do?"

You can feel the room starting to tighten up, just barely: Karina’s breath still heavy, her chest heaving, the way Irene holds her still, how her arm curls across her stomach, palm flat under her tits; that pose in particular, the power to entice.

And maybe it's the fact Irene is still making eyes at you from Karina's shoulder, the cruel bite to her upper-lip, showing how she's working at the soft skin of her neck - a smirk, before pressing into another kiss there. Your insides are running hot, a shudder racing up your spine. There’s no mistaking what she's getting off on, not just some pretty-as-paint newcomer. There’s your Irene, your fiancée - and her beautiful, adorable, awful little shadow.

-

So what if, by some pure hypothetical, this all spirals out of control?

You don't know the consequences of taking home what amounts to a coworker and screwing her with a certain reckless abandon. There’s power harassment, a toxic workplace environment, boundary issues, sexual-fraternization. So on, so forth. It's all relative, but watching Irene and Karina make their way up the stairs and admiring the things that only a woman's hips can do, swaying this way, and that - and, following the path from one tight little ass, the other, all the way up their spines - there are no such qualms to contend with, because there's absolutely zero chance that’s the thing that’ll be keeping you up all night.

Irene laments and hopes in the same breath. 

She has two pairs of panties in one hand, Karina’s fingers laced into the other, explaining with a quick squeeze, "don't tell me, baby, I already know," a wink, a laugh. She’s such a sweetheart when she means to be; charming, wooing, the coy girl Karina seems to have gotten so drunk off the idea of getting mixed up with. And yeah, when she drops them on the floor, and pushes Karina gently against the wall. Traces her finger up her jaw, then her cheek, and leans into the crook of her neck, into that same spot from earlier; yes, Karina can count herself lucky, or whatever.

"So, don't stop now, baby-" Karina's huffing - the line of her throat so taut and exposed. "You should really fucking try harder if you want me to beg."

"Honey," is how Irene responds, leisurely.

There will come a point in their intimacy, in all things considered, where this act no longer plays itself: Irene, the seductress, and Karina, a deft and innocent prey; of course you, the hammer to a nail, pushed and pulled in one direction, the next. The moments in which her lips leave the crescent of Karina's mouth - hot, hazy, and half-wet with their own spit, their tongues twisting, the muted click, and the telltale wet drag of a body pushing and straining up against her own-

Maybe in her bones, she is begging for it. Maybe, Irene hopes, she'll have to: eyes turned up, watering, tears coming hot, streaming down her flushed cheeks as she cries it from her lungs.

"I wouldn't have you beg for anything."

It's true that Irene is ninety-nine percent grace, one percent child-like wonder; she's easy to read when the mood hits her. The lines of their bodies tousling, twisting and tangling in moon-lit-darkness. There's some irony to it, only a few steps away from the bedroom. At the base of the staircase. In front of the tall windows covered with frost that serve, now, primarily to remind Karina that she's in a part of town she could never afford, in an ostentatious apartment she could only dream of; but most importantly, that the woman in front of her - with her fingers dipping down between her thighs and up again, tracing over her navel and the rise of her hip and her cleavage - can have anyone she likes, without limitation.

Karina can't deny it's everything she wants.

"Karina, I'm curious." You're easing into that spot, where the two of them have coiled themselves up - you’ve got your cock in your hand and you’re stepping out of your pants - in the hallway, the frame of the door, a heavy, long shadow cast: Karina has Irene pinned now, a wrist over her head, against the other side of the wall where the white paintwork is starting to run thin. "Didn't you say something before about how hard you wanted it? Raw, deep, I believe was how you put it."

Irene smirks. It's just the slightest sneer, until she has her hands reaching over the curves of Karina's hips and pulling her fingers into her soft ass. Spreading her cheeks. Touching up, then down, back in the same groove, this slow rhythm that builds - like they were both expecting this exact sequence of events.

You watch Irene whisper something into the girl's ear, and - fuck - the light catches her expression at just the right moment, head lolled to the side.

"Hey," Karina drawls. She lets it come out breathy - on the note, the middle and upper registers of her voice, hitting something near a perfect alto. "How about instead of having some heart-to-heart, and making me out to be some naive-ass kid, you stop asking questions and get to fucking the life out of my little pussy."

She ends it so charming.

“Oh,” you tell her, feeling how fucking drenched she is right at the end of your cock - sliding her slick up and down the length of her cunt, and knowing the feeling will likely stick to your skin and drip to the floor, all of it - "well. If that's all."

Your hand arrives on the lithe stretch of muscle between her waist, right along the ridge of her hip bone, your cock pressing onto the heat of her cunt. Karina turns her head over her shoulder so you can see it all in profile: that pout. That look. That everything.

"There you have it." Irene squeezes the flesh she's got cupped in her palms, drawing circles. "If only everyone else got to hear that sweet, sharp edge you've got underneath, hm?"

Karina opens her mouth with some clear quip to needle, but stops herself, a catch in the center of her throat, her brows shooting up. The pull of her voice is somewhere out and over.

“God, fuck-” she can just manage to sputter. “You’re- ah, ah - your fucking cock-”

Oh, it has you cursing too. You're pushing so far into her tight little cunt - the soft airy moan, that pretty sound, riding back on every last stroke until you've filled her right to the hilt.

“I know, I know - that feels so good, right?” Irene coos.

You just pull her all the way back onto your cock, thrusting deep. Base to tip. So goddamn fucking deep.

Karina probably doesn’t even mean to whimper, but the press of your hips, slowly snapping in and in, has her lungs constricted, as the pressure slides through every hot, slippery inch inside of her - this glide of agonizing intensity.

“I bet you want to just cream all over that cock,” Irene says, fine eyebrows knitting into something like contentment. “All filled up and feeling full, and just fucking letting it go - he’ll take such good care of you. He’ll fuck you so good you won’t ever get that warm, hazy, blissed-out feeling out of your veins ever, ever again, if he has his way-”

All while the head of your cock works over every fucking sensitive part of her, dragging out to thrust all the way into her soft cunt, the round of her ass bouncing back to meet each stroke. Again, and again, until you've worked through that wet stretch of muscle. And the motion isn't exactly elegant. Karina's mouth hangs wide open, catching short breaths that curl inwards when you reach the line of her waist.

“It’s so fucking good,” Karina’s sighing out. She’s all fluster, no bite.

There’s no lack for juxtaposition in the way Irene dotes on her either - these small beguiling bits of praise like, baby, you’re doing so good, these tits of yours are just, you are - just gorgeous. Mouth quirked into a tight grin as her fingers pull and twist around her nipple. The sharp yelp that comes after. The fact that she's kissing the words into her mouth on the very next whimper: “a girl like you needs the time, and patience, and opportunity to have her insides completely, totally, catastrophically ruined.”

Irene had it exactly right on the first read. She’ll say, “I told you so,” when Karina’s washing the cum off her chest or out of her eyelashes in the shower. It’s the praise; it’s the degradation; it’s you leaning down, your hands finding her hair, curling in, and getting her right up against your lips to say it quiet, low, intimate - like a lover, like she hasn't already heard it before, “such a good little slut for me.”

And the girl absolutely fucking keens.

You grip onto her hips. You pull her hair tight. Her throat bobs under your thumb and you can feel the anxiety start to throb, her pulse hot and heavy in her cunt. How it soaks the base of your cock. Jesus, you’ll fuck a load right into her. So easily. Her pussy is so snug, so unbelievably wet. Perfect enough to know if you fuck into her any faster, any harder - it’ll be just that: you'll paint right up to her cervix; you'll fill her to the fucking brim.

"Fuck, Karina, this pussy is such a fucking dream," is what you're making sure she knows, and at that, Karina just finds that bend. Arches more of herself to you, until her ass is slotted into the plane of your stomach, the head of your cock prodding, testing the limit where her cunt is hottest and wettest. "God, this has to feel incredible. Your ass bouncing on my cock" - Karina goes slack on the force, leaning forward - "as I rail your tight little cunt."

If anything, Irene is there to catch Karina's tearful, thankful gaze when she finally starts fucking crying, a litany of yes, fuck yes, yes-yes-right-there, please fuck, and a wet, dazed little "you're goddamn - you're ruining, fucking - fucking, ruining me," every other syllable broken by her shuddering breaths.

"Aw, you're going to cum again, huh? Baby-" Irene's got her head at an angle - their gazes locked, watching - and maybe Irene really gets it: how much of a big, bad crush this gorgeous fucking woman's had on the pair of you all this whole time, with all that faux-romance, and lust, and envy wrapped up inside her - but if she wasn't so obsessed with the shape of Irene's mouth, the contour of her jaw, the lean and sleek lines of her frame and the soft, round swell of her ass - she’d still be left with the shape of your cock, where it’s pounding her apart. Fucking her and fucking her up.

It's more than worth the breath to remind Karina what she came here for. Irene's fingertips brush the line of her lips, part them just so. 

“All over him, baby, let him make a mess of you. Just a total fucking mess. We'll fill you up, and fill you up, until your poor, aching pussy is full of cum," and it's probably as well: Karina does what comes most natural to her - with you three, the whole number. Her eyes flutter and go dreamy. There's not even a moment of hesitation:

"-until it's leaking down these fucking thighs-"

"You're doing so good, babe," is your supporting role in all this, murmuring encouragement straight into her ear as you fuck her to pieces. Your breath fans out against her cheek. And then, your hands make a grip under her thighs, holding her steady, making her mouth fall open - this keen, wobbly, vulnerable thing that exposes the naked girl she is, behind all the makeup, and the heels, and her seductive and all-consuming appeal, everything.

“Just so you know: it’s the best fucking part, Karina. I mean, the look on his face.” Irene laughs with her whole body, until the rich, raspy sound of it fills the hall. “The way he bites his lip when he's close, his eyes clenched - and god, I fucking love when he finally cums. It's so good, watching him. Letting him have his way. Feeling his cock throb and spill into you - hot, and still, and just pumping inside you - just so, so good.”

"Fuck, ah-" the little gasp is like she's starting to hyperventilate. 

"Because baby,” is the final nail in the coffin, hammering home, “he’s fucking you just like he’d fuck me.”

"Fucking, please, god-."

Irene's hands have her breasts in their grasp and are playing at where she’s sensitive, then pushing into the soft, delicate space beneath, thumbing the indents. "He's so fucking good, isn't he? Are you going to cream and cream all over his hard fucking cock?"

Then - and because it comes so instinctually to her. Because, actually, your Irene has a slight propensity for evil:

She slaps Karina, right across her tits. "Fucking cum on it."

One.

Tugs hard on a nipple. "I swear, every single bit of you is so goddamn beautiful-"

Two.

"That body is built, perfect. So easy to ruin. And god - what a perfect little pussy you've got-"

Three.

Karina struggles to breathe. Her voice is torn, frayed. She barely manages to utter out a very shaky, very desperate, "harder, fuck- you’re fucking making me so- you can, harder-"

Four.

The cruel contact of Irene’s palm pulls this deliciously hedonistic sound in Karina's throat, a loud moan; like she just hit the sweet spot inside that's all her nerves coming alight. Irene plants a quick peck in Karina's hair. Her temples, the ridge of her brows. Slides her thumb across her eyelashes, brushing them clean from whatever tears had sprung free. You don't even want to try, not at that moment, to try and endure the quiver of slippery muscle all over your cock as she shudders into her orgasm. It's simply too fucking much. She's too fucking tight.

"Aw, shh shh, shh," and then Irene's soft hushes are coming down from the other side of her head. Irene kisses her full, straight on her mouth. Karina is shaking, convulsing and caught and fucked from head to toe - and what she needed was someone like the two of you - to watch her cunt swallow your cock like some magnificent and unbelievable sight, taking the whole damn thing. Irene is telling her, "it's okay. You can let it go."

The silhouettes alone. From the end of the hall, and where the afterimage lingers: the smoke-frosted windows, the dim lights, their bare, beautiful forms - this picture that will stick in the center of your head, will probably haunt you-

"God, I can’t, just- ah.”

“Breathe,” Irene says.

"I'll cum again, it's too- I'm so-" Karina can only plead and sigh.

Irene shushes her one more time. "It's a lot. It's alright, baby. He's going to keep fucking you until he's ready to pull out, until he has a whole mess just painted onto your ass, and thighs, and I'm going to make sure that little pussy gets so wrecked, fucked, stretched on every last inch- until the thought of sex hurts, and then we're going to make you cum again, and again- over, and over-"

You're leaning over her, nose buried into the waves of Irene's hair, the curve of Karina's back, and the flush of skin in contrast. That's when you feel the coil in your chest come loose - unspooling, and bursting - when Karina's lids roll into the back of her head and her lips fall open with a pleasured gasp and a stammer, "y-you're, ah, both, you're so, both- oh god."

You're about to just pull her down and absolutely cream her, stuff her full - a mess.

And she wants you to-

"That feels so fucking good," she lets slip out on the cusp of a shiver, just as her inner muscles are spasming, milking your cock with the pressure from one pulse through the next, squeezing.

She’s right. It does. Her, coming undone. You, at wit’s end. 

Another breath, and Karina is managing out between these small hiccups - not as much out of breath, just dumbstruck - simply muttering, "I’m cumming, I- oh my god." 

You barely manage it; you unbury your cock from her cunt; you’re cumming all over her ass. 

A shot of white that streaks right down to her bare-slicked skin, before it gets painted down into the crease of her pussy, all swollen - wrecked and raw.

Just the way it feels on her skin is enough to earn another hushed moan from her, this sweet little whimper as she can hardly stand up straight. She lets her knees buckle, but Irene is right there, to catch. Her eyes are closed, eyelids clenching, as Irene tilts Karina's face her way, to lay one, two, three soft, adoring kisses on her mouth, the angle all wrong. 

“Mmm.” The smack of her lips. The pull of whatever breath she still has to give - right out of her heaving chest. "Sore, that, ahhh- um, thank you."

You fiancée wraps a slender hand right around Karina's wrist, and starts whispering to her, unbridled, "just had to. Had to see how you look-"

It’s wicked, for one thing. More than that, it's seamless:

While Irene still has the girl's voice caught in her throat, she reaches around the curve of Karina's hips and drags two fingertips through the puddle of warm cum that sits right at the base of her spine, glistening all over her ass cheeks and inner thighs, slipping and rolling off her cunt, down the center, running in rivulets. Your cum between her fingers is so filthy, so obscene - dripping hot - right off her reddened skin, and Irene can't possibly help it; not after a display as indulgent as that. The trembling that remains in Karina’s thighs does nothing to hide how her legs now jitter and shake under Irene's touch.

“That’s my good girl,” she whispers as her fingertips hover across the apex of her puffy lips. Over and over again, with more force, and more, until you're almost positive it's Karina that leans in a moment later, kissing the rest of her soft assurances right off her tongue.

Listen to her: this incoherent string of words pouring from her mouth, like they can't move fast enough, tripping over each consonant, "are you, oh, oh - oh, fuck."

No one else could make that kind of overstimulation feel so heavenly, you figure, the way she just properly melts. You take a step back, just to let Irene work. Just to watch. To appreciate the craft.

You absolutely get it. 

How to touch, how to tease. Firsthand experience has you know she'll ride your cock until you're throbbing and spilling cum and she'll just shh-shh, let you have it - it's okay, sweetie, just let go - until she's rolling her hips just right, or reaching a hand back to massage your balls, or stroking your inner thigh in that exact kind of spot; some method that keeps her all the way on the end of your cock, but not quite off the edge, and your cum leaking down your shaft, spent.

She’ll bite into her smirk. She’ll tie up her hair. She’ll get that serious look on her face because she knows: you’re all hers for the taking.

So she'll sink onto it, again and again, until she's fucking you with the slippery friction only your own spill might provide. "Just a little more," she'll tell you, which is absolutely a lie, "come on, just a bit harder, I'm so close." Irene does this thing - she's had years to refine and perfect - and her voice gets a husky edge to it as her teeth graze the shell of your ear; she makes a small, pained groan into the curl of your hair and breathily hums it: 'I'm almost there.'

Who stands any chance to resist?

And she's always asking you - the same way she's coaxing and promising Karina the world with just the movement of her fingers, this delectable in and out, in and out, pushing that filth up into the red-soaked lips of her pussy - "now, what did I ever do to deserve someone like you?"

Karina blinks, once - a sleepy-lidded draw that leaves her lashes, lush and long, and fanning her flushed cheeks. 

The sound between her legs is wet, squelching with your cum, with hers, the barest hint of slapping her tender skin. The beat of Irene's wrist against her thighs - like that's where she needs it most - a deep, primal rhythm, like the last thing she wants is to take a breath. It's fucking hot; her head is tilted, her jaw clenched, and Irene has the tips of her fingers twisted between Karina's legs, swirling your cum right back around in her slick cunt - those plump pussy lips that you've watched stretch out on the first press, the first and the second and the third, as Karina finds what gets her there fast, fast-fast-fastest-

"You can cum for me too, baby."

It’s not a suggestion. There’s nothing but expectation in Irene’s voice. 

“Just cum.”

You watch it knock the architecture right out of Karina's legs.

-

Indulgent, just isn’t quite the right word for it. Careless, reckless, clumsy even-

Look - the tumultuous tangle you three make is all over the fucking place.

One moment, you're at an angle, moreover twisted-limbed with Irene bent over her dresser, then propped up on top of yours the next, your forehead landing against hers, feeling the soft cradle of her shoulders, her legs around you. She has her hands wrapped in Karina's, in that muddled in between: it's a collision of sorts.

There's the chair in the corner of your bedroom that really has only ever known one purpose, a plush rug, all these surfaces, horizontal and vertical for you to take the two most breathtakingly beautiful people in the world on and let your bodies settle into the shape they've needed to ever since your fingertips met Irene's in the cab, ever since she blinked her heavy lashes at you with Karina in-tow, just shy of smiling.

And boy, do you learn that Karina likes to watch herself get fucked in front a mirror. Specifically, the tall one beside Irene’s closet. It's hard to blame her. When you hold her hips tight, and really, truly fuck her, you can’t keep your eyes off how her face twists with the pleasure; or, when you drill the length of your cock into her sopping wet cunt: the wide, glossy rim of her pretty lips pulling back into a wince - and your eyes dropping past the reflection of her shoulders, her collarbones, down to her perfect tits.

The back and forth, the up and down, the way they fucking wobble in their beautifully buxom blur.

Though the eventuality remains unchanged, spread out across your bed. Karina takes a moment, hand pressed to the mattress experimentally like it's all running through her head - this is where Irene gets all that fairy-tale-inspired romance from, really - a quick pause where your future-bride is up on her elbows and staring, watching - your finger sinks in slowly, between where she's soft and warm and wet. She's thinking, you can just read it off her face, 'oh. So that's what you'd do, huh?'

Just for demonstration’s sake, you fingerfuck her in all kinds of ways - show-off and performance and dirty and mind-blowing. Because even better than the whiny, gut-wrenching moan it gets out of Irene, Karina can't get enough of how it’s all presented.

"Ugh," she slides up next to you at the foot of the bed, helping you turn Irene on her side, "why does she have to be so pretty, it's annoying, she's- she's like, made it so fucking far by playing the girl everyone wants to wife, huh?" She's talking directly to you, even while Irene rolls her neck to press her head against the pillow. "Inspirational."

You're drawing circles into her clit. Thumbing the dip, circling in the opposite direction. Karina has her nails biting right into the crease where your knees touch. In tandem, you’ll help your fiancée reach the top of that first wave. 

Karina presses, all cheek - a very dry, "cute."

It’s so simple: you eat Irene’s cunt. You hold her down. And Karina slides her tongue lazily against the tight pucker of her ass.

The three of you know she deserves nothing less.

“Oh, christ, you have no idea,” Irene is murmuring into the pillowcase, head tilted at an awkward angle, looking at the wall, almost distant; but her legs are split wide and her hands are reaching forward to rub a circle into your cheek, "you know how sensitive-? Yeah. Like, really, super. Super, super fucking sensitive, okay? So - if you'd keep doing, uh, oh- oh…”

Simultaneous, then slow, and easy - kisses landing right onto Irene's clit. So much so, you can't help but turn a little, smiling right up at your girl as she digs her toes into the duvet and threads a hand into Karina's hair.

The thing is, with Irene: facades fade fast.

Karina gets to measure that fact up close - where the details of Irene's composure are not only sharp, but also readily and openly and emphatically pound to dust by the time the last loose curl of Irene’s hair falls over her collarbone; she ends up on all fours, spread out over Karina - pressed along the length of her stomach, spread over your duvet and fitted sheets, your hand at the base of Irene's waist and tightening into the divots. She’s so small beneath you that when you bury your dick inside her- 

“Fuck.” Her cunt is so wet. Her breath uneven - and her words are starting to slur. There’s the gooseflesh on her back that lets you know it’s all already over for her. “Okay,” she tries to steady the ache in her stomach, “okay, okay, just- right there.” 

The drag through her pussy is fucking extraordinary. It knocks the wind out of both of you; so soft to the touch, like velvet - she’s unbelievably tight. You pull her hips into you and it opens her right up. Then when you end up balls deep inside your girl a second, third, fourth time:

She simply shudders apart.

Even though you fuck her so slow, so easy - her cunt clenches and squeezes on you like Irene detests the very idea of letting you go. You don’t even need to rail her lithe body to complete and utter ruin just to feel the familiar pent-up tremor starting to build in her muscles, how she rolls her hips back just so-so. How your hands fit that round and pert little ass of hers so well, and when your fingers finally sink in, you’re pulling it all apart to get a good look where your cock shimmers with her slick before disappearing right into her tiny cunt.

Karina mutters something in her ear. It pulls on some thread, somewhere - you feel her wind like a spring, further, and further; your cock edging her so close. The smirk Karina saves for you over your fiancée’s shoulder makes you think she’s figured her out- 

“Irene, look-” 

Well, at least she’s tuning in on all the right frequencies.

"Aren’t we all about being thorough?" Karina raises a perfectly trimmed brow. She drapes her arm across Irene's neck, their lips sliding together again, and that kiss is drawn-out and languid, albeit needy. "So, say," it gets muffled against the seam of their lips, and comes up, and comes out like a slurry, "are we gonna use everything else too? Your mouth, your perfectly tight ass?"

Irene can hardly muster out, "fuck- fuck- yes, fucking, god," as she takes it, so deep. There’s enough there to make both of you cum, you’re sure.

“Who could’ve guessed - like there’s ever been a more perfect cocktease than bae-fucking-Irene," Karina coos, all lips. She plants a row of kisses along Irene's exposed throat. The tilt of her hips, as she pushes closer - as you press the head of your cock as deep as it can go. "Go on. Cum, baby. Be a good girl, a good hole to fuck, just do it. All over his big fucking cock. Let him fucking have you."

Which is probably about the same time you realize that you, Irene and Karina are all well enroute - becoming this one mind, a single unit. This plurality you know there’s no coming back from.

You look down, with a little more focus, and Irene is being pulled apart in every which way - your cock stretching her out, over and over - Karina’s fingers right under her clit, every circle making her whimper. She’s all sharp edges and delicate angles, but manages to be soft for you in just the right places.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” you tell her, shifting your hips; pulling her ass flush and filling her completely. Your grip tightens on her waist and she doesn’t flinch a bit. "It's so goddamn easy to cum in this needy little pussy of yours. All wet and slick, and, hah- just pulsing-"

Irene lets out this wanton sound, desperate.

“Oh, right there, huh?” Karina asks. It’s not quite mean, but it’s getting there, fast. “Is that how he’s going to make you cum?”

You thrust on the same angle again, the same depth - you’re hitting all her nerve endings, all her sensitive spots. There isn't even room, now, for some imaginary head-to-head, some verbal volley, the banter; what comes forward is her tiny, broken moan.

How many times had Irene done the exact same, after all. Fucked you without holding back? Fucked you over? The flood of sweet-nothings as you started to approach: honey, you're so perfect, we can go slow, you just have to ask, and if you feel uncomfortable at any point, if you want me to stop-

“Just say please, doll,” Karina tells her.

If Irene told you a quarter of what made it out of the side of Karina’s mouth, you’d have never believed it. "I can't wait to feel what that arrogant mouth of yours will do when he cums inside this cute ass-"

You watch Karina spank her. Hard. There’s a red stain in the round of Irene’s cheek, and her skin is so pale that the imprint of all five fingertips looks stark, glaring.

"Just," Karina presses the rest of herself against Irene's skin and steals a quick glance at you - this half-coy smile pulling on one corner of her lips, "thought I'd do that in the name of-"

"Mmph," Irene’s groan is long, loud, "yes. Fuck, yes- please-"

Karina immediately looks away. An effort to hide the smug satisfaction. She fiddles with the auburn locks behind Irene's shoulder.

You’ll finish the sentiment: "-being thorough," and drive your cock to the hilt. Irene collapses forward onto Karina’s lap.

The sound she makes you swear is a sob. See - for Irene, it’s only about getting control in so far as it is about getting off; she’ll take whatever comes her way so long as it’s directly to her benefit - the theatrics of being pinned, the willingness for surrender, for subjugation, for the sake of telling you, yes, push my knees, spread me apart, hold me there; look at the things you do to me - it's the Irene everyone imagines, when they see the dresses, the gltiz, the glamour, just the brief flash of her grin, or the way she holds her fingernail between her teeth. Everyone wants to put her on her heel and feel a bit powerful. To have you watch the supple arc of her neckline bend, to hear the humility slip off her lips: the notion goes beyond simple kink-

It steps out into pure necessity.

She really, really needs it, and it's written into every muscle and tendon - it's on her breath as it shudders through her whole body. The beautiful, harrowing sound. "I love the way you two fuck me," she murmurs, head buried into the crook of Karina's neck. It's the sort of line, coming from someone like her, you know could raise a few blushes - if either of you was still in the business of such things.

"Honey," her voice wavers. Then, it falters: "please."

The desperation is thick, husky, almost. Karina seems like she's breathing her in, nose tucked against Irene's forehead.

You watch how she runs her nails up Irene's sides, a hot whisper sliding over her skin. You feel it, and so does Irene, this white hot pleasure singing up from the tip of her clit and spreading throughout the soft curves, the sensual lines of her body, this tangible current, a hum, a whine. You see her strain the lean stretch of muscle connecting her neck to her shoulder.

Until her face is tucked under Karina’s jaw, with a hand reaching back and hooked around your wrist and keeping you fucking, filling her, your hips drawn tight against hers, like a second home.

In and in and in.

Fucked-out and outright to the extent she goes completely silent. Almost completely still. The moment she cums all over your waist. Mouth hung open, like she’s in pure disbelief.

It doesn’t really matter, how often or how precisely Karina has imagined the whole thing. It's still a fucking revelation the first time she gets to watch Irene cum.

“No way,” she’s almost laughing, holding Irene’s jaw with both hands. “No fucking way. All the times you- what? No. Nuh-uh. You better fucking explain why this face, you- it’s not fair, the perfect face- I swear, even mid-fucking-orgasm, you are such a fucking doll-"

There's the sheer intimacy - Karina holding Irene's lips open, dragging her thumb down along the center. Quiet and sordid curses slipping from her mouth. And the obvious, her free hand already running down the curve of Irene's spine, her ass: all this sensitive-touching, admiring, appreciating-

"Hey," Karina says, voice raspy and drunk on the sex, the premise, "do me a favor, and tell me this feels as amazing as it looks. Or maybe, for once - just for the sake of fucking argument, is it actually better for the both of us, hm?

Her eyes are half-lidded, heavy, sultry. She's arching up into Irene's warmth - until her palms are spread out against her chest, thumb sliding right over everything sensitive, and she leans right to pull the other breast to her lips, and start all over again. It's clear what she means, spreading her legs as far as she can, pinned beneath the orgasm you're still fucking into Irene. As much as her petite frame will allow.

And in case you missed the point:

"So. What are we waiting for," is what she says a breath later, matter-of-fact, not at all expecting denial. “Or am I not as fuckable as our princess here?"

There's so much wet spill around the base of your cock, and the sound Irene's pussy makes when you finally draw free - all her creamy slick mixed into your mess just fucking leaking around your shaft. Karina holds herself open for you like that, spread wide. All your attention to her pink, raw cunt; you slip right inside. 

Karina lets her arms go slack on the mattress, her chest shivering, lips locked around Irene’s panting breath.

And so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes.

-

(To anyone taking notes - chemistry, by definition, is the sum total of a certain process; where and when energy becomes matter becomes another.

More relevantly perhaps, it is that race and rise you feel inside your chest. 

Nothing about the sensation, it seems, is too exclusive either - Irene, and now Karina, the pair of them equally devastating, all over and again. It has you in communication with a different kind of contentment: to fall apart inside their embrace in particular, and kiss them with enough breath and time to waste until the morning.)

-

“Jesus,” Karina laughs out loud, “you really believe that? You corrupting me?" she makes another scoff, both hands buried somewhere in the pockets of the sweatshirt you've lent her. "At least do me a favor and cut it out with the solemn tone."

You're leaning over your apartment’s balcony, watching an emergency plow make the slowest grind of progress up the road. It's late. And cold. Or actually - it’s early. The sky is the kind of dark midnight navy you see after all the snow and stars have run through the horizon. Time ticks on, and Irene’s inside sound asleep. A woman that small has no right to snore like heavy machinery.

So,

You and Karina happen to be two things at once: very tired, and very awake.

"What I mean is: I'm sure your manager, or your parents - fuck, someone - would fly off the handle," you say, pulling a cigarette from the pack and offer it begrudgingly. She takes the end and slips it between her lips, a little unsure. You then draw a lighter and offer it, too, and Karina puffs with all her strength. She's no expert, but it looks like the end catches and turns bright. 

A bit of color.

"My parents?" Karina flouts, sucking at it, pulling deeply from her chest - smoke pours from her nose.

She finishes with a cough. And says again:

"Um. Your girlfriend had her fingers in my ass - your cock down my throat - and we're worrying what my parents might think?"

Well. She's got you on that count.

"Not to mention: who the fuck thinks they're so virtuous-" a small chuckle as she passes it back. The cigarette is lit, bright. You take a drag. Watch her tap her feet on the snow. "That they need to do that to begin with. It's more trouble, telling me what to think and feel, as if that hasn't just the opposite effect."

“Irene’s protective, albeit in her own sorta peculiar way. So, you know, by extension, she worries-" you pull, and exhale, the smoke blowing past Karina. It gets caught in her fringe, in the wisps. You offer it back when you see her shiver. "That some shit happens, after."

"Your concern is heartwarming, truly - if you want to let me think on it, I might go and write a nice little diary entry tonight. It'll have sparkles and glitter - if you're that worried." 

Karina reaches in. Lets her fingers graze yours. Her skin is cool. 

“Besides, I don’t need a lesson in image from Irene of all people. She’s her; I’m me.”

She holds onto the cigarette between two long acrylic fingernails, tapping the end so the ash flits out onto the ice. You're caught staring, probably - the dark hair framing her face, all messy and soft, falling about her cheekbones. How that pretty pink blush in her skin seems to never go away.

Your eyes drop to where her mouth is red, a bit swollen - well-kissed; it is snowing again, after all. And it’s easy to be kind of transfixed.

"You're not, I dunno, say embarrassed?" you ask, after a beat.

"Nope." Karina swallows. Brings the cigarette to the pucker of her lips again. You watch how she holds the inhale, holds her wrist up and slacked, head tilted back a little. This exaggerated fashion-model exhale follows, all smooth.

“Because I'm not the type.”

The heavy stream of smoke then blown right into your face.

"Really, I think - sorry, I have always wanted to do that. It felt like a movie. Look," she coughs on the next breath. "I get your dilemma. But also, um-"

There are some quiet moments too, here and there: the heat between your thighs, her pressed up close. She smells like Irene's shampoo and bodywash and that just confuses your head some.

"Who’s to say I’m not just looking out for you," you offer. Every good lie is rooted somewhere in the truth.

"Don't bother," her words hit you square on. "It's about getting off right? You invite me to your bed; I’m so starstruck and enchanted by the very concept of it - Irene and her charming, intoxicating husband. Fuck, I dunno - the way the two of you kiss, look, feel: the experience that you will let me be a part of," she stops and makes another face of amusement, so fucking confident, "you let me play, too, just once, and we're all just a little happier. My version."

“We’re not married,” you correct.

“That’s the part you’re hung up on?” Karina leans over, her upper half across the balcony, staring right up at the sky. “Same difference.”

The moon finds her smile bright like nothing else. It's something infectious. Immediately, it reminds you: of Irene.

"Trust me," she goes on to say. The cigarette slips back into the space where you are connected - the lines of her fingers, her knuckles. "I had a wonderful time, but the sun will rise here, and I'm not gonna stick around to blow you while Irene burns three omelets and finds a spot for me in her fucked up game of house or whatever."

She makes you laugh, free and easy, like a gust of cold air. Something genuine and natural. And as the laugh shakes, Karina makes it impossible not to crumble farther. Not to fucking simper there like an idiot.

“I really thought she was going to make me call her mommy or something, I swear-”

"Hey, I'm sure if you had asked." A spark catches you. The flash of her canine, and those eyelashes. “She’d have done you the favor.”

"Oh, shush." The touch of Karina's fingertip against your hand is delicate, careful - unassuming. But, god, everything with her is just the right amount of heat - it melts you; and when it stops, her touch: that feeling is so cold that you just chase her out of impulse.

"What about New Year's?" you ask. There are still boundaries you really shouldn't be crossing, but here you are, straddling yet one more.

Karina's grin cracks like an old fault line. "You're not allowed to ask me out like that," she insists, batting you away - trying her hardest not to lead with the obvious. You look out on the view, watching a guy in a parka trudge over to a garbage can, a handful of newspaper bundles, then a glance back-

The slightest flush has bloomed up Karina’s face, right underneath where the makeup's been rubbed bare. It's utterly irresistible. "Go wake up your fiancée and ask what her New Year's Eve looks like. Doubt it involves me and my dumb friends."

She’s probably right.

"Karina," you start, watching her push open the balcony door with her foot and walk slowly, lazily, back into the apartment. The window rattles, and she looks back over her shoulder. The bob of her ponytail, the sweeping lashes, that perfect slow-burn smile. That’s how you end up with a title as ridiculous and reductive as ‘original visual’ or ‘the human cg’.

"You’re really going to let them in on what we all got up to?"

"Oh," she makes this low, delighted hum - it sounds so dreamy, how her voice gets the richest sort of rasp, "every last detail."

-

On Monday: the holidays are officially over.

There's a bunch of stuff on the to-do pile. A lot of loose ends you have to clean up, a ton to catch up on. Irene is judiciously ignoring all of it. She's wearing her glasses - the ones with the big round frames that should look entirely obnoxious - which means she's already decided she's not leaving the apartment; Karina's still wrapping the world at large around her finger and has everyone convinced that she's all femme, no fatale; and you - well, you're back to thinking about how to climb the ladder and maybe how to stay there.

You head downtown with a cup of coffee in one hand and a musing mood in the other.

On your phone, some more choice text messages arrive in the late AM: had a great time by the way, stay out of trouble, this sweatshirt is actually just mine now, duh. 

The selfie alongside it is pretty suggestive, but just vague enough to flirt with indecency.

She sends one more at lunch where she's gotten out of the shower, or a hot pool, or maybe a long workout - her breasts squeezed between a towel and an arm - she has the camera all zoomed in and framed tight, almost full body. If her intention is to mess with you, that's what she gets. The texts: ah, fuck off and did you have a nice date with your left hand then, thanks for reminding me, the hotel wifi is shit lmao.

The messages just keep on coming and there's really no better descriptor.

And Irene, later, in a way that's neither diplomatic nor nuanced: jesus, don't let her catch you by yourself. For simplicity’s sake. She interprets being alone with a handsome boy as carte blanche to do absolutely whatever she wants and she's vapid that way.

There’s a chance it fizzles out into nothing. An even greater chance it all goes sideways. You'll have to see what becomes of you three.

-

Okay, right - new year, new you. The resolution for the past couple remains unchanged, and unfulfilled - less takeaways and eating out; more meal prep, less calories, healthier decisions.

Irene has this cute little apron over her sweater that is fixed extra tight, the belt trailing down the tops of her jeans to accentuate her nice round hips and slim waist. She knows the nature of her charm, her sex appeal. How it occurs, almost, as if by accident.

You say something that will get right under her skin like, “looking real domestic, Joohyun,” as she slides a chopped onion from a cutting board to a bowl.

She presses her hips out just a smidge, just enough. Turns a bit as she opens up the fridge, and the smirk she has for you, that sidelong glance-

“Don’t you Joohyun me,” is her lightest rebuke. 

She twists her way onto her tiptoes to fetch at the highest shelf. The crochet corner of her sweater rides up a couple of inches, flashing a hint of the fair, bare curve of her lower back. "You can help me by grating the parmesan, hm? Into that," she gestures back at the table, pointing with the bottle of olive oil.

And so you're ten, fifteen minutes into helping with dishes, with the grunt work - with the realization that Irene is going to chop her fucking fingers off if you leave her to it unchecked.

"Actually, here," you say, "can I?"

She tilts her head, skeptical - still, a quick nod of permission - and her slender fingers surrender the knife and wooden chopping board to you. She's tapping away at her phone, finding the playlist you're both always secretly listening to.

"Wow," Irene says, low, as you start dicing mushrooms, a stalk of celery. "So brave. There’s no way I could do that. Is it safe? Are we, like, in nuptial bliss now, do you think? I fancy you, I fancy you-"

It's always this sorta-delicate dance with her: how much should you step up; how much should you put out of hand; how much she accepts versus how she pushes you aside and gets through you all the same. You're too proud, really - both of you - but fuck. She's adorable; the apron adds insult to injury; and it makes the switch in your head simple.

“I always forget how much I love this song,” she’s saying; the rolling pin she’s grabbed is a reasonable surrogate for a mic. When she’s through singing a verse, she shoves it in your face. You don’t know any of the lyrics. 

She doesn’t really care.

You have to laugh at everyone who's ever wasted the effort to theorycraft who she is behind the smoky lashes, the lowered chin, the downturned glance. All the characters and archetypes she'll wear and cast off as she needs.

"Here." She sidles up and tucks her hair behind her ear, the side of her hip grinding into your thigh until she’s pressed firm into the line of your leg. Because she needs to tell you that's way too much garlic, and she's not going to kiss you if your breath is trying to kill her first. She uses the word "pungent" a number of times, just for good measure. Go on - she’s murmuring - taste; right off her finger. If anyone caught this you’d be embarrassed for weeks

“I think, definitely, should open a bottle of wine-”

That’s how you earn all the responsibility for getting the both of you fed; she gets distracted looking through the recipe book.

But there's the way she looks up at you from the opposite of the kitchen island, face held up between her hands, fingers folded underneath her chin. "What?" she asks. 

She’s totally caught you staring.

The truth is: Irene only looks this gorgeous when it's just her. When she forgets that she's supposed to stick to a script.

You tell her as much when you end up fucking her right there on the counter.

It's so slow, atleast at the onset. Her panties pushed aside, jeans spilling off an ankle - the fucking apron managed to make it to the floor but her sweater got kinda stuck on the way up. So you're reaching through some overpriced fabric blend to pull down the wire of her bra and get your palm where she most prefers it.

"Say it again," Irene sighs into your neck, clutching to the back of your shirt - white-knuckled at the seam. "Come on, you can be so charming when you want something."

"I wouldn’t push your luck," is all you choose to tell her. 

You're hitting all the spots she wants you to hit anyway: her pretty pink cunt, slick, all wet for you already. Everything clenching as she arches her back, until she's hanging off the edge of the marble. You find it’s just enough leverage to fill her completely with your cock - stretching her out and open until her thighs bracket around your waist at the perfect angle.

"Or what?" Irene is out of breath, but hardly at a loss for words. "I know. You'll have to remind me how much smaller I am than you, right? So easy to keep pinned."

Well, if you really wanted: "Hah, ah - right." You get right next to her ear, muttering the words as deep as your chest can go - then take hold of her waist to put her in a spot she can't escape. And, by Irene's usual logic, once that happens, that's as much a victory for her as it is for you. You're being compliant, aren't you? The in and out: fucking her, filling her up, pulling your messy cock out of her pussy and slapping her clit just so she can hear how fucking soaked you make her, merely as a reminder-

"I wonder if she was even half as desperate," she moans against your jaw. "Her heart probably stopped the second you, ah - told her, what? About all of this?"

You stop fucking her, halfway.

"I’m sure you wouldn't be referring to Karina, right?" is where you glance at her. “I remember us both agreeing to chalk that up as a total absolute mistake. That was that.”

Irene just swallows, looks off somewhere over your shoulder. No one wears a blush better than her.

But she won't say it. Her honesty is such a privilege. The prodigy-type. Or at least, that's the word Irene chose. Then again, there’s you and your uncanny ability to turn a blind eye. 

To the vice, the virtue, and everything in-between.

"So, can I ask," you press your lips together, finding the point of her chin with a gentle tap - you have her looking you straight back at you. The moment could let you drive back inside and fuck her brains right out, right there, like that - right through, instead: you watch her try not to squirm. 

The tension in her upper chest, the rising heat that settles between her thighs, her weight struggling where you spread her knees, as far open as her body can allow. “How long exactly," you choose your words, careful and pointed, "are we going to pretend that she isn't texting both of us?"

You bury the question deep where she’s practically molten - hot and wet and so incredibly needy.

You do, again, and again. You pull her against you, watching that pretty brow scrunch and un-scrunch as your cock bathes in that soak. And hell, Karina had sent her a selfie today, is what she's explaining when you slow down enough - a bit of red, on her cheeks and her lips, and a lot of black, all the rest - the part about a midnight flight that's on hold until tomorrow morning. And then another, an hour later. To you both: her tits, the lace lingerie - so heavy, and soft, and easy to see yourself getting lost in-

Irene gasps at how fast you find all her favorite spots, then repeats - twice and again - hey, Karina said you're "such a cutie," and she sees her as the perfect mistress-material, don't you think? Wouldn’t it be ideal? The perfect fantasy? The perfect toy-

Obviously, that is morally bankrupt, even for the two of you. And you’re making sure she hears about it.

You ask her, point-blank: "are you really so selfish? So callous." It's ground out, slowly, against her hip, into her cunt. You've got Irene dripping wet, she's running everywhere, and you're telling her, "and this is your roundabout way of asking me to validate your twisted little ego?"

Don’t get it too confused: Irene lives for this shit; that sharp, hard-hitting tone - it drives her up the fucking wall. 

"Duh. Tell me - just a guess," she presses her hands further back, arching into each push. The slim curves of her chest are bouncing, just under her sweater. "You like to feel so guilty and morose but I bet-" she chokes off mid-sentence, you know exactly how, the exact motion that has her wanting. She gets a leg over your shoulder with no effort at all, and your fingers find their place, digging into her hips as she locks into your thrusts. 

Like fucking her is the only thing the two of you ever do.

Your whole body buzzes, it hums in resonance with where her gasps conflagrate to moans - you're pulling her slender frame down into every sloppy thrust and she takes you so fucking well.

"I bet it all sounds like, ah, the prettiest fucking music - in your head-"

“Fucking god, Irene-”

“Mhmm?” she fucking coos.

Because the things she wants to hear never actually leave your lips - your girl, fucking relentless.

Because the line between you fucking her and her fucking you becomes less distinct every time she rocks back and takes you deeper. Or when her mouth catches your next kiss a bit lazily. She takes over to swivel and slide her cunt up and around your length. So good that you have to keep her there. Hand locked onto her throat, digging a bruise or two in her collarbones, fucking her senseless against the countertop-

"Irene, fuck.” Your voice comes out thick, like gravel, and practically as an aside, “you’re going to make me-.”

Irene cuts you off, nodding, shh-shh’ing you into silence. “I know, baby. I know.” This total sigh of agreement - a hushed yes, or maybe uttering something she knows will sink right into your core, two words that sound a lot like “good boy.”

What, is that tacit approval? Probably. It’s hard to think straight.

So you bury yourself inside her, instinctually. Irene tips her chin up when she feels you paint her fucking womb. Every throb - with a fistful of her ass and your face pressed against her chest, sucking and biting and marking her anywhere, everywhere - right through her sweater. Fucking her so full that your mess is dribbling out all over the fucking floor, drip, drip, drip, and-

"Hey, I want you to know that I" - she sounds so amused as she cards through your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead - "really couldn’t ever ask anyone except you."

(All is fair in love and war, is an adage Irene takes to its logical extreme, tangled in your sheets or with a dress puddled at her ankles. A silk stocking rolling down her leg, the crochet thrown into some dark corner.

You never say yes. You never really have to.)

This all before setting her down, off the edge, back onto her feet and taking another half-step forward and having the awareness not to completely flatten her under the full weight of your body, so she can run a hand down between the two of you and her fingertips can start gathering up all the cum you've pumped inside her. Irene tells you in her sweetest lilt to pay attention as she leans back up against the counter and gathers as much into her mouth as it will allow-

The sight alone.

When her head tips back, tongue passing over her knuckles, and she swallows-

"You are so," you sigh into her temple. Her cheek. You've settled the rest to the space in between. “Absolutely unbelievable."

She reaches out and trails the tips of her fingers lightly along the rise of your cock - her softness up against your hard lines. Her eyes flash when you twitch on the fucking spot. It's so tender all coming from her.

And there, a moment or two more. You can see it in the way she has her lips tilting, dreamy. You've always known what you were signing up for - how she's thumbing the nape of your neck - what her ideal outcome was, is. There's nothing and no one in front of either of you to bar the way.

You’ll make your vows like any other.

"Well, hey," she finally says, slow and husky and curling toward you with a smug self-satisfaction.

You push her hair behind her ears, the dark brown locks. Some part of you understands, unequivocally, that she is the absolute limit of how far you would go for any other person on the planet. No questions. In a heartbeat, without hesitation.

The kiss to the corner of your jaw is unironically chaste - before she’s telling you, "shouldn’t we get a move on it, chef? There’s food to eat, recipes to ignore; aren’t you fucking famished?"

-

The bolognese reduces down to a scorch in the cast iron. Too much heat, or too long, you got too preoccupied, who knows - there's a moral lesson to ignore here if you're so inclined. So it ends up being over a tray of sushi delivery that Irene explains to you her working theory like it's high-stakes political intrigue.

"Listen," she's got her chopsticks pointed at you, "for one, Karina, to her core, is a total seductress; and she's told me already, more or less to my face - she gets off on the chase, and hates the other shit. To be involved, or invested."

“Okay then why all the go-around; the wait-and-see; what’s her endgame?”

“What’s anyone’s endgame?” Irene shrugs. “Validation." She slips a tuna roll into her mouth.

"I think you might be projecting."

"Or, I'm simply an extremely empathetic person," her sarcasm hits harder through chewing - she almost gets you, and finishes swallowing to say, "look, she's like us if we were pretending to care, okay? Just more, like - explicit about her lack of intention. So. Doesn’t matter if it's to piss her manager off. Or it's like a revenge-slash-extortion-thing against someone she either had or is having an affair with."

"An affair," you repeat, skeptical.

"It's not like it’s an unheard-of workplace hazard, come on," and then the final confirmation: "she’s just into it because it sounds dirty and sexy, okay, like everything else-"

"And you figure we should be the ones to dole it out."

"What I figure," Irene says, doing that same mental calculus she did the first time: how, where, why - it's clear. A dozen different kinds of naked are an old, tired song by now. "I want us to fuck her. However she likes, whenever she likes, for however long she likes. Let her think she’s won something, or think she has you totally fucking hooked - I don't really care. Because it would be so much more satisfying to hear you tell me about it - because the idea of you two being like that for me. It's," her words pitch up a touch. 

"That's the fantasy."

And Irene dives into the details. She explains what it could look like, all the more raunchy and ridiculous. This very specific arrangement. It makes no real sense, the conversation alone, and that, you decide - what can't be rationalized - is how she'll take it: by fucking both of you. That's the objective fact. That's the demand.

You listen until it feels less and less like the decisions have already been made.

“Okay, babe,” she’s presenting her case. “Hear me out.”

And she keeps going until you both can see it materialize: "if Karina thinks she can handle both of us, then both of us it'll be." It’s how her fingers end up buried in your boxers and around the throb of your cock. You hear the gentlest laugh Irene has as you start fucking softly into her grip, and she runs her thumb over your weeping slit until she finds you that much more malleable to the suggestion. Effortless almost, she lures the primal part of you from its confines and teases and prods at its wants and desires. Which is also how some charged vocabulary gets thrown in for good measure. Because no, no, no - she's murmuring into your mouth, tipped back, plush lips right above yours - it's not a cuckquean situation, or an open relationship, or anything like freeuse or whatever else might justify the concern. It's not even cheating, Irene’s explaining, strictly speaking, because who said you and I wouldn’t be doing it together?

(Lying by omission is the story you both live - and the difference: she's pathological. You’re just now getting the hang of it.)

"Fuck," is what you exhale out as she opens her fingers, offering. Her thumb glides across the expanse of your head, a trail of pre-cum drawn underneath a nail. And you know all the things her nails can do - can rip your heartstrings. "I mean. God damn. There has to be, like, terms."

There's still sushi sitting on the coffee table, and Irene is placing these kisses into the slope of your shoulder, your sternum, making a show of the movement, how she's traveling down, downward - to her knees. Where she finds the seat between your thighs and tugs your shorts, the fabric gathered down your leg-

"Let me handle it," she tells you, and there goes the cut of your t-shirt, shoved up to your chest. Her grip runs flat, down from the rise of your hip, fingers wrapping around, touching - the flat of her tongue laving across the tip of your cock until she decides to lower her jaw.

"Just think right now. How I want to fuck her and how I'd want you to fuck her, too-" 

Right in her warm, wet little mouth.

Jesus, her tongue too-

She has it gliding up, around and against the swell of the underside. Rolling to where you need it, the places she knows you’ve died before. Lapping up the mess she's already gotten out of you-

Like this, Irene's looking at the way that the idea strikes: you and you and you; the only person in the whole goddamn world that can handle her; you fucking know it too - it's the most perfect, hopeless kind of thing. Like the feeling that catches at the apex of your lungs. It burns in your stomach and grips in your gut. She's gone and cut out the nerves - there's the crown of your cock caught in a velvet grip between those pretty pink lips and her fingers twisting at the bottom. 

She breathes deep. Sinks her lips so slowly to the base. Anything, everything you want: to put your hands to the side of her head, to weave your fingers through her hair, and coax her, fuck her mouth like it belongs to you, all slow and hard and measured.

To hear all those wet sounds she makes as she chokes on the end of it. The gags as you force your cock into the back of her throat, holding her head tight, her hair pulled up into a fist, to have that mouth hanging around the length of you, tongue stuck to the bottom of her chin as you move her, your fiancée, your toy. To be looking her in the eye and watching her look the fuck back while she revels in every filthy second of it, not a single damn drop of hesitation or doubt.

"Really think," Irene urges, and she's all innocent when she tips her head to kiss her way up your cock.

She’s trying for some grace or finesse, or both - trying, you think, to make a point; instead, you end up watching her gulp and spit into her palm, just to obscure the sensual curl of her tongue with the sloppy-hard rhythmic stroke of her fist. "How hot it would be if you watched us both choke on your cum. Her face fucked stupid - the perfect little fuckdoll, is that not an image for the ages-"

You get a glimmer of that catlike grin - the one you would kill for a picture of. Something for the wallpaper, or the wallet; you've never met a boundary she hasn't challenged. The most depraved ideas in her head are just, as she is, a masterpiece. And so the answer has never changed - there has never been anything she's not been allowed-

"Trust me baby," she presses her cheek against your shaft. You feel her turn and run that mouth all over. The tip of her nose. Her eyelashes. The wet heat of her breath as she nuzzles the length. "Karina's all ours to share."

Her pout, right there, waiting.

You can't stop yourself from grabbing her face, the crook of her jaw, her neck and the tips of her shoulders. Until it all comes with a good, hard pull. The sound of her mouth on your cock, the blowjob she's been perfecting for years. It's starting to fill up the room, her lips wrapping your shaft - the sound of her being so obedient, the most receptive, sweet, pretty thing: letting you guide her pace until she has a steady motion going. Taking the thick base in her hands and working it over between her fingers. There's only enough room for that before you’re all the way inside her, in and out, again: the tip of your cock brushing over the softest curve of her throat.

When you take her at face value, it's fucking wild: your fiancée kneeling before you. Her chin and neck wet with her effort, lips wrapped so pretty, stuffed, used-

There are no questions. This is simply Irene, doing what she loves.

She pushes a hand between her legs and holds herself together as your hips tilt forward, meeting her halfway-

Just letting you get yourself off in her mouth like it's no big deal. It's her throat - it's her goddamn cunt and ass, and whatever else - because you fucking asked, right? Because you gave her the permission, the choice, the agency.

"Hey, where should I?" you’re muttering as you push the hair out of her face, already half-drunk on her slick lips and realistically only a few seconds away from doing some real damage.

There isn't a need; but you want her to tell you, to use her words. In her mouth, on her face, in her palm, you’ll go without thinking. You’ll cum straight onto your own stomach if it’s what Irene says. Even if she’s acting like you already have.

"Make sure you give her,” is what she garbles out around the hard line of your cock, and it’d be impossible to understand if you didn’t know every nuance to her, if you didn’t - you know - fucking love her. To have and to hold - to hold on tight and for better or worse, and this is pretty much as bad as it gets. 

The syllables come in-between hollow breaths, all wet and sticky. When Irene wrenches the fuck out of it, the base of your cock- “hm, that same sort of courtesy when, agh, I'm not around-"

Because the image alone is what matters. There, getting your cock sucked like you've earned the privilege - it doesn't have to be real, it just has to look like it's a new truth to believe in. The little motions in her wrist are just - hah, fucking unreal - and the way she sinks down lower on her knees for each stroke, from base to tip - lips pressing over the knuckles she has wet, and squelching, and twisting up and down and up-

She places a hand under your balls, the gentlest cradle, and something of your restraint finally breaks - it snaps - her insistence is ruthless.

"Yeah, god, okay- I’m just gonna go ahead-" 

There are these images in your head, of Irene: the upturned brows, the hollowed cheeks, and that slutty-as-shit smirk - and then of Karina: doing the exact same thing. Fuck, your cock is heavy, absolutely leaking cum: you can feel yourself leaking into the press of her mouth. It fills up her cheeks as she blushes into the fuck. Her lips become flush and go soft against the ridge of your shaft - her jaw slack in anticipation. 

"Your fucking mouth, Irene" you breathe out, “I'm going to cum-” 

Just at half the sentence, you're there, sunk into your fiancée's throat. Fingers across her ears and into her hair and watching her own hands pulling you, guiding you-

It’s all flexed in your back. Every muscle. Every fiber.

Irene hums onto a simple, satiated note. She always does, when she tastes it. When you dump a hot load of cum all over her tongue and straight into her throat.

(And yes, some might claim this is the death knell for all kinds of reasoning, but you’ll go ahead and admit it’s so, so worth it.)

"How thoughtful," she says, low and slow, once she's through swallowing the entire fucking thing.

The corner of her mouth tilts up. Because you're finished: two steps left in the brain from falling out of consciousness, a mess on the couch. You get to watch as she pulls you into sorts and slots each piece back to where it's meant to sit. The underwear, your pants. It's with such careful attention. Your soft cock gets cleaned with a tissue and wiped dry. A tiny parting kiss for the tip, her mouth full-on puckered, like she's kissing out anything you have left.

Though it's a pleasant daze. She prefers you soft like this, really.

All you have left to say is: "fuck me, baby." It sounds sloppy and open-ended as hell. "I guess I'll leave everything to you."

If that's a cue or sign for the evening, the only right thing: it isn't exactly misinterpreted.

-

The actual logistics don’t arrive for a handful more weeks. You find it surprising they ever happen at all.

// Karina 10:41 pm > i'm bored.

// Karina 10:42 pm > suggestions?

// 10:49 pm > have you tried looking into an incognito tab?

// Karina 10:58 pm > lol, and what is it i'm supposed to be finding?

// Karina 10:58 pm > help a girl out here.

"Send her a picture of your cock," Irene says, like it isn’t a joke. She looks up from the smutty-dash-of-romance-porn novel she's got herself wrapped in, with her best faux-serious expression. The pair of readers that usually are in her top desk drawer have made a new home perched low on her nose. "God knows she hasn't stopped leering since she found out what I'm marrying into."

"Please," you tell her, because she's full of shit. "I'm not sending her a dick pic."

Your laptop is warm on your thighs as you huddle on your side of the bed. That's the point of balance where it feels like Irene isn't trying to look. Though she clearly is. You flick up through a couple tabs just to drive the point home.

// 11:01 pm > sorry. i'm not in the business of just handing out freebies

// Karina 11:07 pm > really

// Karina 11:07 pm > thought we were making progress here

// 11:11 pm > you're funny

"Ask her if anyone's home with her." Irene dogears the page she’s reading and sets her book down. "Or ask if she's, like, tied up or something. Something edgy."

"Something edgy," you deadpan.

"Do you want me to put the readers away," Irene offers. She's wearing the sort-of smirk you always need to be wary of.

"No," you say. “God, no.”

"Ask her where she keeps her lingerie. Tell her she should be thinking about what it'd look like: all naked except a thong. With the straps digging into her. Tied up all nice and pretty-like."

// 11:13 pm > u alone right now?

"What the fuck?" Irene slugs a pillow at you. "That is the creepiest way you could've sent-"

// Karina 11:13 pm > yeah. i am :/

You and Irene are both struck a little dumb by that. 

“Sheesh, she must have had her finger hovering over the reply button.”

"Yeah," you say, eloquent. “Who could blame her, though.”

"Uh-huh." Irene exhales, staring a bit pointedly.

// 11:16 pm > cool if I come over?

// Karina 11:17 pm > and… do what?

Irene nudges you with her heel, a questioning glance: the window has just been left there wide open and hanging. She whispers like Karina can somehow hear her through the phone, "you are terrible at sexting."

“Can you fucking leave it-”

Irene rolls her eyes.

// 11:18 pm > do you need ideas

// Karina 11:19 pm > got a couple. i wouldn't be against hearing something that lets my imagination fill in the gaps though

"Text her that you're into her throat and want her to show you her tits," and Irene actually cracks a laugh as she has the audacity to make the request. She's in good form this evening; in nothing but her favorite silk camisole - the navy blue one, which pairs great with all 5’2” of the rest of her. Like the soft curves she wears and everything else isn't bad for your heart. "Seriously, I want you to-"

"How am I supposed to end it?" You ask. The tone is purely sardonic. "Babe. Baby. My future wife. Tell me. You do realize you're basically asking me to bait her, right?"

Someone will eventually put their cards on the table, and Karina, Irene, and ostensibly you will realize you’re all currently having a mental break from reality. Or something along those lines. "I mean. Could that really be a negative," she wonders with an eyebrow quirked and another gesture of her arm like she wants to showcase the night sky beyond the bedroom windows.

"How, what - babe."

"You could promise to let her sit on it."

"Is the cockslut routine an act? Like," you lower your volume, "do you really have a playbook, here?"

"So mean." Irene reaches a hand over. She has her head propped on an elbow, the rest of her sprawled and comfortably positioned on the bed. And you wonder why the fuck you feel compelled to argue a point that so obviously has already been lost. "Just go fuck her already, god damn, I dunno."

Right. So. This was the part that was kind of inevitable - and Irene's impatience aside, you probably were about to win a lottery when you showed up at her door - that golden little interaction: "hey it's me, your rival at work's future ex-husband, I guess - I'm so horny and I think you're so beautiful and wouldn't it be so crazy if we, like, boned, haha, what?"

"Just- have sex. Tell me about it after."

The novel beckons Irene back toward it. She makes herself the picture of someone perfectly comfortable with you walking right into the next most uncomfortable predicament.

The sigh. That long, heavy thing. A leadup you do so often.

The simple idea of sending Karina that sort of message sends heat, low - just under the band of your sweatpants, and right where you've got yourself in the palm of your hand and you're already wondering how this is the result, why your cock is coming to a rise already - god damn - why every thought of Karina's face, and Karina's ass, and Karina's everything, every moment her lip is caught in between those teeth is becoming impossible not to touch. "Okay," you huff, "fine. I'm getting up, I'm going now- I mean it, right now, just give me a minute, I am putting my clothes on."

"Wait," and she's saying, "wait. Wait."

And when you turn around, Irene has this cat-that-ate-the-canary grin all stretched on the canvas of her face. She takes off her readers - her elbows thrown into her lap as she goes to the very edge of the mattress, pulling your shoulders for balance. "Babe-"

"Mm."

Irene likes to get you at a low simmer. The way she runs her thumb pad along your bottom lip. And all those questions - a look into her eyes - it's hard not to fold or break - when she's holding onto that sort of expression, unwavering; no matter how her mouth seems to get soft and curious.

Her lips move onto yours, asking - a push. And your eyes - a brush against a shoulder and you've already gone a whole mile from anywhere decent. There's the touch of her tongue between your parted mouths.

"You'll be good right?"

"I mean, sure," is what you manage, watching her lips close.

"You'll fucking wreck her, and do it exactly how she needs it done." And her brow, knit. She can tell your brain is busy jumping ahead to a hundred different scenarios. "Stop worrying."

There's a brief nod of reassurance. Her fingertips dust down your chest and the rest of the way. You hear Irene tell you to-

"And give her an extra hello from me."

"Okay, I love you, but also you're insane, like certifiable."

"Shush, I know you," and Irene gives your hair a little tousle before pushing you out the door.

-

You're standing there at the front door of Karina's apartment a little after midnight, bathed in dim, orange wicked fluorescence. Like it knows your sins - past, present and future. There's no obvious answer when you go knocking, and for a half-moment, you're thinking, okay, it's alright, this is how I let someone down easy-

Until she answers and leans out, pulling open the door. It takes you by surprise-

"Well, I'd normally let you in," you hear Karina say, and a smug smile starts to cross her face, "but..."

It's about the degree to which she looks hot and a little off kilter in this tight t-shirt - a snug pair of panties around the sway of her hips - that almost sends you spinning. There's not an ounce of self-consciousness; it's like a punch to the gut.

"Aeri's date went south and she's drunk. She's passed out on her bed, like, right now, I don't think-"

There's no bra. It's hard not to get fixated on every detail. Like her nipples, practically standing out. You have an irrational desire for her to take a step back, further into the room, further out of your vision's reach-

"Uhh," you croak. And you do have the mental faculties for, uh. For telling her. "Maybe, you know, later, could be better, yeah, maybe call me."

Though, unfortunately, the suggestion falls short on delivery.

"No, no." Karina has her hands searching up and underneath your sweater. Her fingers dance flat up, right over your stomach - teasing as she hikes you back inside. Right past the threshold. Your mouth is half-caught and stupid under her, the gentle hum and pressure on her lips. "It means we need to be quiet."

She drags you another step forward, with just the hot flash of her gaze. 

"Shut the door behind you?"

"Locking it too," you tell her.

The laugh she makes into it, this one little scoff - it's an acknowledgment: an agreement. It's one of the worst fucking sounds, and the whole damn thing gets to you. Like her ass wasn't the perfect fit for the palm of your hands- like you don't want to trace your fingers under the elastic of her panties.

As if it wasn't fucking clear enough. It's the tongue in your mouth and the hands in her hair. She's kissing you soft, she's kissing you deep; her weight rests and pulls back with each swell of your ribs, pushing her fingertips down until they're skating, slow, low into the grooves of your spine. Like she's getting familiar with you again.

"Okay," you breathe. She laughs on your lips and presses forward - pulls you back, farther- "uhh. Okay."

She must see the confliction you're in-

"Hey." Karina keeps going until you've got her backed against a wall, until your thigh has pressed into the crux of hers and your hand is in her shirt. You don't miss how she lets her head tilt back when her eyes shut. It's her. There's no disputing the reality. "Whatever you want to do to me. That is all I've been thinking about. Do it."

"I- don't really-"

She makes a decent show of crossing her wrists and tugging her shirt right over her head. Tosses it someplace safe enough. "So are you just gonna leave me in suspense, or do you need my explicit, enthusiastic permission?"

Your lips draw themselves a blank on anything useful, while your heart rate accelerates.

"Here try this: you’re going to fuck me until I beg you to stop. Then you’re going to fuck me some more. Or whatever- then we can go somewhere, I don't care," she offers with a half-whisper. In all her goddamned glory - barefoot, almost bare chested - it's not like it could be any other thing.

-

You’re not exactly supposed to end up on your knees for this.

This isn't quite how you pictured-

Okay, fuck, Karina's making the prettiest noises where her spine is curling up against the wall; those sounds you couldn't even make up. How it feels like the easiest damn thing, because there isn't a question to why. Every inch of you is pressed to every inch of her. You know what you'll taste on your tongue, which of these breasts belongs in your palm and the fingerprints in the dips of her waist - her lips on the curve of your jaw - every mark and bruise on her skin, every hint of it is real; it's fucking you up because you're kissing the woman that Irene picked, the woman you met - it's how you pull yourself away-

Karina, for the longest few seconds, is shocked into stillness.

Because you could, of course, decide to give this one last shot, your head between her thighs and eat her out until she was so fucking wet your cock wouldn’t even enter the equation. This is not actually a new idea; the possibility has run through her mind enough times already.

"Yeah. That would work."

Like it's no big deal-

"Do you need instructions? I can get a bit graphic."

"Actually, you know what?" you choke a little, and - "trust me."

You stand straight up for a moment, a second, an extra fraction. You slip your cock inside her hot cunt, and, yeah. She collapses right into you. You’re holding up her just enough to fuck into - she's starting to breathe deeper, harder; you've got her pinned like that - a hand on her neck, fingers sinking into everywhere she's softest: her tits, her ass, her waist, her throat, and there is nothing that isn't some version of fucking glorious about Karina's weight grinding, heavy onto the tip and onto the ridge and down the thickest length of you-

And her face, jesus christ, her fine brows upturned, the tears heavy in her dark lashes, the little gasping-sobbing sounds that spill across her wobbling lips - this is the both the easiest and the hardest part: seeing her get absolutely fucking ruined-

(You know, god help you.)

-

Irene doesn't even have to ask. There are hickies and bruises shadowing in on your neck, your chest - these marks you never remember Karina giving you, and a ton of scratches all up your back.

"You know I was going to offer to make you breakfast," Irene says, smug, "but I'm wondering if Karina got to you first."

"What the hell do you think?" you say, dumb.

There are eggs burning on a skillet that are never going to be salvageable, no matter what Irene says. She has no respect for the process. And her voice is full of that infuriating smile: "was it everything you hoped?"

"God," you mutter, trying to mask the embarrassed laughter in your words. You can hardly move an inch on her behalf.

"At least tell me something fun, you insufferable tease," she presses her nose into your hair and tickles the spot on your side, just to be a pest.

You lay it all out for her. Everything she wants to hear.

-

Surprisingly, there’s still plenty to learn about each other; days to weeks to months. The first real thaw of the year comes, and you’re quick to fall into this odd rhythm.

Karina won't actually join Irene on set or production very often - too much heat. It shouldn’t have taken so long to figure out the two don’t belong in the same room together, and if they’d asked you, they’d know - but no one ever really does ask you. However she does spend more and more time around the apartment. In and out of your personal spaces. And maybe a bit in between, or a little underneath too: how she seems to slot herself right into every possible fold whenever Irene’s away.

Always traveling for this reason or that.

And god, the perfect powder keg Karina is - ticking, short-fused, all ready to explode. It’s ironic, you think, she’s drawn to scandal the way Irene will do anything to avoid it, and here, she's found her ultimate indulgence.

The quick lay, the time and place you know you can be patient in pulling her apart, the everything in between. 

In fact, you’ve taken to calling her "babe" just so she doesn’t think twice when she gets your cum pooling deep in her cunt, all hot and sopping. Looking like the picture-perfect centerfold. The fucked-dumb face - all twisted in your grip, flushed-red; and the musky scent of sex; the noises and her presence alone. You fuck her, and fuck her, and fuck her, rubbing a thumb across where the mascara runs thick.

To be the gorgeous girl, cock-drunk and fucked-out in your lap - so simple - so natural: Karina finds her way over more often than not.

After your shower, after your nap; your work, the bar - Karina’s never more than a text away. And you'll keep a hand around her waist as she stands around in the kitchen, stealing Irene’s leftovers out of the fridge. Karina ends up straddling your thigh right there at the breakfast table, holding onto the wood for support as she cums all over you.

The long and short of it is: 

She's fucking you. She's fucking your fiancée. She sees no problem in having her cake and eating it too. The only caveat is: Karina thinks neither of you know what's actually going on.

“You gonna say hi to Irene for me?" she's teasing one day, snapping her bra back into place. The t-shirt pulled over all that glossy-dark hair, the shimmy of her hips just to get back into the world's tightest jeans. She presses a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth. It's such a stark, clinical goodbye - ending with a flick of a thumb across a screen. "And oh, let her know if she ever wants me to teach her a trick or two. Anytime."

“Yeah, I’m sure she’d love that.”

Karina does the most insipid thing. She fucking winks. “I’m sure she would.”

-

"Uh, are you kidding me?" you ask Irene. 

It's late one night, and Irene is standing in the kitchen in her pajamas with a welt the shape of Karina’s lips kissed right into her jaw. A couple drinks in your system have given you both a false sense of clarity, and also an ill-timed desire to solve all your goddamn problems. You lower your voice. "In her ass?"

Irene has that all-triumphant and dopey grin that makes your heart ache for her. There's a soft curl of her hair loose, thrown across a shoulder. "I’m serious, pull her hair right, hold her wrists until her back has to be arched. Pin her to the bed," she continues to illustrate, "it's all in the finer points of how much. Tell her to count, even. I'm not joking-"

She takes another spoonful of yogurt between her lips.

"-she'll let you do anything, promise."

“That’s fucked up.”

“I know.” Irene wags the spoon at you. “It’s great.”

-

It's not only the hypothetical-homewrecking that gets Karina so torridly wet for the whole affair; when she's pinned beneath you with her legs spread and her toes pointed skyward, or perhaps later - the same day even - riding Irene's face in a locked dressing room and crying out - "ah, hah, jesus, please-"

In her head, she has you both at her beck and call. Forget semantics - Karina is a fool to her own illusion. Because in her head, not only has she managed to go toe to toe with the industry's reigning monarch, she’s managed to win.

-

You don’t exactly know how Karina ever intends to keep it casual. Because things are damn near constant:

It’s a weeknight, and the moon is high above the windows, casting a crisp rectangle onto the hardwood; it doesn’t actually matter, as far as Karina is concerned.

Irene’s on television again, the sequin in her dress clinging tight, and she’s found the gaze that never breaks for the cameras. Found the flash of her most practiced smile - that little chime of laughter she has that sounds like striking pure gold.

Then Karina: sitting cross-legged at the very end of the sofa. One leg thrown over your thigh, she’s got these nylons on her feet and she’s poking a toe into your ribs. "Isn't she stunning," you hear her muttering, "honestly. Doesn't it, like, turn you the fuck on?"

Her foot grazes your lap, all casual at first; the impossibly soft-curved heel of her sole. There are so many ways she'd prefer to pass the time and they almost all involve getting under your skin, if not just outright getting into your pants.

“Elaborate.”

"I mean listen, in your case, just knowing your fiancée is up there looking like a total angel and at the same time, thinking about you; how she’s got to be considering every which way she’ll unwind just after the showcase - at least, that’s what I’d be doing." She licks her lips, teeth. "Hell, I’m only imagining how pretty her eyes are when she can barely keep them open, and that’s enough to ruin my panties."

"Are you really."

She shifts her weight. Puts that ankle to good use. Rubbing it into the crease between your legs. "Tell me," her lips curl. She’s looking at you dead-on. "How does she usually prefer it, hm?”

Like a wildcat, you suppose, your Irene - a pretty, little predator. You could tell Karina everything, but you don’t. Instead you let her wander into the lair of her own making. Her eyes: light and curious; it’s written in the lines of her face how she's picturing it all so plainly.

“I’d guess she lets you go slow. Or hard. Or maybe a little rough and then you make her cum, and then maybe, just maybe, after the teasing; after the edging, I guess, that's when she comes in hot. I would hope."

Karina twists her foot around, swings her weight onto your lap, and sucks in a sharp breath when you reach out and grip the lean lines of her hips. It’s as easy to hold her still as it'd be to drag her across the couch and under the rest of your body, fuck the goddamn tension until there was no longer any room left for the pretty smirk in her lips. And her gasp would probably sound a hell of a lot better - than all the needling quips - a much louder and much less-pretend whine when you could throw those thighs open and really pound her wet, aching little cunt-

“Easy,” she chides when you end up taking two handfuls of her chest. "Shouldn’t you be more supportive? For god’s sake, it’s your fiancée’s moment in the spotlight, you know-"

There’s nothing stopping you from popping off the buttons of her dress, one by one by one - and kiss right there, into the swell. Your voice feels all the rougher when you respond, "and what a moment."

Her fingertips skim over the places she's been kissing you, where she's been marking and claiming and trying to, at least, to stamp you like her personal property - when the look is that serious. All cold-burn. Right through to the bone.

“So.”

You can feel her touching into your pants. The heat in her soft, silky thighs; she sits above you, keeping a leg on each side. A part of you feels trapped; another is confused why you aren't turning the tables right now - flip her and ride out her cunt on the couch. Some passing thought, or just a fraction, the only one that matters in that particular instant, wonders what Irene would do, will do - has done - in your situation. How her hips would roll. How Karina’s moan might sound when she dug a nail right into a sweet spot.

You push Karina's skirt a little farther up her body and try to gauge the moment she's finally decided she doesn't mind.

“How about you keep your eyes on her, and I'll suck your cock while you do," ends up being the short and not-so-sweet of it all. “-or maybe you can get off between my tits.”

She wraps those fingers around your base and pulls gently. It's not a decision, but merely a continuation, a culmination: a gesture made entirely to pull the response: the hitch to the throat. Her nails skim that ridgeline as her eyes track across the cut of your features. It makes you groan into her next kiss, to say, "if you wanted it so bad, babe, you could’ve just said. Would save us a lot time-"

"Are you complaining?" she husks, pulling your pants down your thighs. Your cock is in her hands and she smiles like a cat - licks her teeth when it twitches at just the slightest touch. "Yeah, I didn't think so," is how the breathless laugh leaves her lips.

You catch the quirk of her brows, her tone: straight-up, like nothing. You’re almost buying into that until she's got your shirt on the floor, those lips of hers in the divot of your collarbone, and her tits wrapped around the base of your cock, and, well, fuck-

She actually wastes no time - none at all. A couple feet away, Irene covers her laugh with one hand. There's a brass award in her other. And the television casts this soft, pale glow.

Karina tips her head, and a curtain of her dark, silken hair spills across the ridge of her breast. She runs those big eyes over you, all wide and round and vaguely-deviant. There's the perfect amount of motion, of squeeze, just a light-bit of pressure, and she's got a face smug-arrogant in an instant, knowing. Fuck, her hands on either side start pushing into the line of her cleavage as she bounces and rocks and draws every inch of your cock up through her soft tits and back down again.

"Fuck," is the harshest exhale she's ever dragged out from you.

She hums a low sound, all self-satisfied when it's her own namesake: your body wants her, like you know the full weight of her needs, your touch, how badly she's fucking craving to get off and still not admitting to anyone it might be more than sex. Like it's really as easy as her next breath, the flutter of her lashes: Karina wants your eyes, the weight of your attention and she's not going to beg for a fucking thing. The feeling, you think, is mutual.

"Irene," she says, her smile as open as it could ever get. "She's just so gorgeous, right?"

On one hand, she’s speaking between the lines. A perfect tincture of deceit - the bawdiness-by-nature: watch me, look at me - is what she might as well say - look what I can fucking do, the whole lewd display. And, god, how she knows every way to make a guy want it, like she wants you to remember it.

Because on the other, the movement is so, so direct. 

Karina twists herself in an upward tilt, just an easy, practiced thing; she lets her tits spill around your cock and through her fingers, full and soft - and her lips part, mouth slacking alongside yours, matching the sounds out your chest with her own. Like she knows exactly which slide of slippery friction will make you moan, or which pull and drag will send your teeth straight into your lip.

"Isn't it crazy," she lolls her head a little, letting her own saliva drip down the center, onto your weeping slit. "How much I want your cum filling my cunt, even knowing she's the one you'd rather put the ring on," the drag and drag and drag - her tits are fucking incredible, and she knows it. She pushes up with her fingers and gives you a long draw right through the press, right where the nerve endings run electric, right where she keeps moving, up and down, and up and down- 

“-it must be hard, I mean, jesus christ. Here I am, needy and hot. Begging you to wreck me and my only sin, hm - the sin of being second best, right-"

"Holy fuck, you're-"

"Obsessed," she says, and drops her tits against your waist again. "I know, I know. How could I not be?"

You're left muttering into the titfuck alone, watching her rub your precum up between their soft shape, feeling the slight give, how her skin goes warm. The act itself: such a simple-thing-bordering-on-the-absurd that you notice how you coil and flex beneath her curves, how she feels so soft and warm. The slight pucker of her lips every time your cock escapes her cleavage does little to help. It's probably the fault of the brain-fuck but the wet of her mouth is practically everywhere you look. You could eat her alive right here, spread her legs on the coffee table and finish with a bit of screaming, groaning and tearing, and no one would ever stop you.

But instead,

"-it's a good color on her, really; but then every color is a good color on her, isn't it so unfair?" She's taking your cock into her tits, deeper on every rock forward and back, holding them close - a gentle lock of those long manicured fingers keeping it all together. "Even wearing no color at all; you must just love how all the freckles are so easy to see," she murmurs, squeezing tight. The sound is wet, messy. A filthy chorus between her dirty words and the dirtier action, and just that glimpse of friction when she strokes down again is maddening. You're all slippery. So sticky-slick, so tight.

Of course there's not a fucking inch of a reaction out of her; you want to get off so bad-

"You could close your eyes," she tells you. "She would still be there. The sound of her laughter. The image. In that dress or not," and her mouth furls into a half-smile before she pauses. Reaches down, pulls her tits around you impossibly tight. "Just so damn pretty-"

You cum just like that: 

"Babe," is what you let her have. The soft, undercurrent hiss. "Fuck."

You shoot clean up, all thick, hot splatter.

Well, mostly up - along the expanse of her neck and throat, coating where her breasts sit so pretty against the lines of your thighs. Across her sternum and the hollow of her neck - her body's covered in your shared mess: slick-filthy-hot, all strewn across her perfect tits.

"Jesus, Karina, baby you’re-"

"Completely covered in you." She's still smiling. That deep-cut and perfectly symmetrical curl of her lips. The gorgeous fucking shade, and her chin, how her cheeks flush, just a little - they've always turned pink in the most specific places when she gets fucking cum-soaked. “I know, just look.”

And her hands slide across her chest, trailing a path through the thick of your release, spreading the glaze all down her front. Making it messy, making the exact look a guy sees once and is driven to the ends of his sanity - just to spill his load out onto her. To get her all used, and trussed up: just how she likes.

(Sanity is being generous, considering.)

You can't do anything other than what's expected: take her up in a kiss, breathe into the mess you've made on her skin. The gasp is full, surprised - just enough, maybe, to count as genuine.

Such a mess - she murmurs - um, come on then, you can do a girl a favor. Bath bomb, bath towel, bath robe - and really it doesn't have to be a suggestion.

You’ll pin her down and fuck her right over the lip of the tub if that’s what she really wants. Just being in her company is indulgent and excessive and begging you to make a terrible habit of it. Have some self–restraint, she has this tone in her voice sounding more and more like a dare. There's just enough there in her hands: one reaching for you and the other reaching into the porcelain, swirling up the lather - and that look on her face, as if to say, can't believe you have me waiting, like some desperate, depraved pervert - only it’s more explicit than that. Only it feels worse - and her mouth is moving again, speaking into the air that already feels stifling hot, words cutting through the steam: you're not very nice, I mean really, it should come as no surprise how she turns out, having this jerk for a fucking boyfriend- 

Nevermind. Not a dare, it's a challenge. She was right the first day you undressed her, the brattiest girls always have the worst kinds of fantasies, the darkest little tendrils of self-destruction. How she's laying there, asking and telling, pushing and pulling; and how she thinks she's so clever too.

Though that is no reason, she laughs, for you to think she won't love having her pretty cunt cockwarmed and spoiled for an evening or more. - And so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes, and so it goes.

-

(Really, to Irene’s credit, she had Karina pegged right from the jump. A character study in, well, herself.

She's seen as an ingénue by the press, and an outright savant to the executives. They know her as the obvious successor. They give her the runway, they watch the leggy-girl-turn, the model-posture, chin held high and aloof, looking down at the gathered throngs of photographers.

The protégé, the goddamn heir-apparent:  

But her favorite game - that bit of innocence served on a platter, ingenuous when it comes to spinning a flaw to gold, and the deception too - Karina loves and loathes every second she spends upstage from Irene's own, hectic, international production. Because if anyone asks her, that girl would claim it's never been a competition in the first place. 

So you see, if you and yours have both decided to ruin her-

It is a disaster-in-the-making, isn’t it.)

[sumirhatos]

Exposed addictions

Red Velvet - Irene x Male reader

7.6k words

TW: foot fetish, feet worshiping, squirting, fingering, facial, slight humiliation.

This is chapter 1.

Chapter 2. With Joy you can find here https://www.tumblr.com/sumirhatos/743226946594504704/photoshoot

It was a simple "Idol Room" filming day as always, or at least you thought so until you finished the day.

"Good job everyone; I'll see you all next time", you said to the whole filming team and to the Red Velvet girls.

Everyone started to gather their belongings and equipment, and the Red Velvet girls were leaving. But not her.

"PD-nim, can you give me a minute in my dressing room? I need to have a word with you", Joohyun said, looking at you with a cold face. Then she turned around and left for her dressing room.

"Sure, I'll be there in a minute", you answered, finishing the discussion with one of the filming crew members.

"Joohyun, may I come in?", you asked, knocking on the door and pressing the handle.

"Yes", she replied with the cold voice that she's famous for.

You enter the room and see her sitting on a couch, dangling her heels, presumably waiting for you. She still has that judging but cute face, or more like a concerned-uncomfortable face; that's how you would describe it.

"Joohyun, you did a great job today; it was a pleasure to work with you as always," you said with a respectful smile.

"Actually, I don't know if I can say likewise, to be honest. I'm not sure if you know, but I've noticed some weird tendencies today", she stopped for a second and then continued.

"Your crew was taking so many close-up shots of our asses, thighs, and boobs today when me and the girls were trying really hard to do those Pilates poses. I don't know about you, but it made me really uncomfortable", she added.

You were speechless... You are exposed. This never happened; nobody gave a shit how or what you and your crew filmed; the only thing that mattered was their whole image and screen time. You tried your best to break the silence with something, but it didn't matter.

"Umm, I'll talk to the crew", you replied to her, a noticeable nervousness replacing your smile. "I'm pretty sure it's just some misunderstanding."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no», she interrupts you mid-phrase, "talk to the crew? Misunderstanding?", "Are you shitting me?" she exclaims.

"This is YOUR crew, and YOU are the director", she continues, raising her voice even more.

" YOU are to blame here; either you don't have any fucking authority over your own people, so they do whatever they want, or you are just a sick fucking pervert who films the idols and their body parts for perverted use, both of which are fucking disgusting and pathetic."

You have nothing to say in your defense here because you know that you are guilty. She is correct. You are a pervert and a disgusting human...

"I can get you fucking fired for shit like this and make sure to end your fucking career; I can make your little life miserable," she said aggressively.

Realization hits you like a fucking train; you can lose everything. Everything you have worked for for years will vanish like thin air.

Panic starts to get all over you. "Please, P-please, J-Joohyun, I'll do anything in the world, I-I'll give you all my money", you started to stutter, "Please, Joohyun, what do you want me to do? I can have a word with other producers to-"

"Silence!", she interrupts you; she's definitely angry.

"On your knees!", ordered Joohyun. "And don't you fucking dare to speak until I allow you to", she added.

You obey her order, kneel on your knees in front of her, and go silent.

"Such a pathetic loser. How dare you talk to me like that? I hate it when people get too comfortable with me; who said you can use my name?" she said.

"M-my apologies, Miss Bae-", a very hard slap on your left cheek interrupts you. "Ah, what the fuck?", you exclaimed. There comes another slap on the same left cheek, but no words leave your mouth this time.

You have never seen her like that, even when she was off stage or filming for TV shows. What is this? Is this the real Bae Joohyun? Was all of the bully Irene's rumor true? Is she really rude in person? And that cute, loving mother image is just an act to get more fans? She was scary.

"Who allowed you to talk? Was I not clear enough?", she asks with an evil grin. "Be quiet, and I might not slap you again, but if you fail to obey, I will throw you out and report to the police that you tried to rape me. Have I made myself clear this time?", devil smiles at you from above.

You don't say a word; your response is just a nod. You learned the lesson and are ready to comply.

"Good", she smiles. "So, where were we? Oh right! You said you were going to do anything in the world to save your ass, right? I was thinking about a personal toy-dog for my own use. Sounds interesting, right?", she giggles, that evil woman...

You nod again.

"Awesome, first of all, let's see how well you can follow your owner's commands, dog", she says with a smirk on her face. "Get on all four", she adds.

You obey by getting on both your palms and knees, like an obedient dog...

"Bring me my bag; it's on the table there", she says, pointing at the table near the mirror.

You crawl to the other side of the room, get that expensive Miu Miu bag in your teeth, and crawl back to the couch.

"Wow, very good. Plus points for the effort", she says, appreciating your actions and opening her bag, starting to look for something inside.

"Oh, here it is", she says, getting some bottle out of her bag and throwing it to you. "There, I think you know what this is for. It was an exhausting day today, and I feel stiff", she says, smiling with that evil smirk again.

Confused, you start reading into what kind of bottle she threw at you. Soft moisturizer, foot cream, wait what? Foot cream??? You are shocked and stunned at the same time by the task you were assigned. A few minutes ago, she scolded you and threatened to ruin your life, but now she wants you to apply foot cream to her feet? What the fuck is wrong with her?

Still shocked by her command and trying to realize it, you began to sweat profusely. It takes you a minute to get out of the stupor she's gotten you into.

Joohyun noticed that you were surprised by her order and thrown off by her command, so she took initiative into her own hands. To shake you up, she took her left shoe off her foot and brought the shoe an inch to your face.

"Sniff it, dog, ha-ha", an evil laugh escapes her pretty puffed lips.

Little does she know that you're going to enjoy this. So, without hesitation, you put the shoe in your face and took a whiff without her noticing that you were actually enjoying it and prolonging this.

You don't get a chance to distinguish much of the scent; it's just a smell of new fabric, sweat, and some sweet smell.

"Very good, take another sniff, deeper this time, like a good boy you are", she playfully smirks with excitement on her face. I bet she enjoys the show.

Following the order, you take a deeper sniff this time. The combination of scents that pierce your nose gives you enjoyment: the smell of shoe fabric, a sweet rose scent, supposedly from her shower gel or something, and a little bit of the scent of her sweat, indicating that she was wearing these shoes for a while today.

You just realized that you are smelling the shoes of one of the prettiest and most desired idols out there. This is unreal. Your dick is ready to rip your pants apart already...

You give it another big whiff, and it completely brings you back into reality. Yeah, it's not a dream.

"That's enough", she commands you, taking her shoe from you and removing another one from her right foot, placing her heels near the couch. Even though she's ordering you around right now, it's an absolute heaven to have the feet of the goddess presented to you on a golden plate.

She's wiggling her toes in front of your face with that dark polish on her nails, sort of saying "get to work", but you wait for her to allow you to proceed because you don't want to get punched or slapped again, even though you don't mind if it's Bae Joohyun slapping you.

"What are you waiting for, dog? For an invitation? Your master needs a good fucking massage", she says. "Get to work, now!", she exclaims with a slightly higher pitch. Is she losing patience?

Not wanting to keep her waiting, you open a bottle of foot cream and are about to pour some of it out, but she immediately stops you.

"Nah nah nah, doggie, you know that before applying cream, the skin should be cleaned?", she says, smiling at you with that freaking devilish smile that makes your cock twitch in your pants. "Oh no, I don't have any wet wipes left. What do we do? I think we will need you to improvise", she teases you, almost bursting into an evil laugh.

Not only did Bae Joohyun let you sniff her shoes, but now she wants you to clean her petite feet with your mouth? Is it really a punishment?

Wasting no time, you put the bottle of cream aside and got to the main course. You gently take her right foot by the ankle and bring it to your face. Even though Joohyun ordered this, she reflectively tried to jerk her foot away from you, but you pulled it a little bit harder and placed her sole on your mouth with her toes right on your nostrils.

Joohyun had been surprised by your assertiveness; you could see that in her eyes, but she lets it slide.

Her saying nothing is the green light for you, Starting with the kisses on her arch under the ball of her foot, a few kisses on the right and a few kisses on the left side of the foot, at the same time you give her toes huge sniffs, taking in the scent that you could remember from the shoes. Again, rose scent, her body odor, sweat, but right from the source, a slight shoe fabric smell — such a sweet mix. Simultaneously, you massaged the bottom of her sole, right above the heel. This moment will be imprinted in your memory forever.

"Mmmm, yeah, that's nice; yeah, right there, that's the sore spot", she says. "But I think I said cleaning, not kissing", she says, staring at you with that cute face of hers.

"You asked for it, Miss Joohyun", you think to yourself as you insert her toes into your mouth. Once again, she's absolutely shocked and tries to get her foot away from you, but yet again, your grasp is stronger than hers, and you keep her feet in place.

Concentrating on licking, sucking, and slurping on her delicious toes, you tried to gather as much flavor as possible, moving your tongue over her toenails and between the toes. The taste of her toes drives you crazy; you have to be blind to not notice the bulge underneath your pants, but you don't care about it. It's Joohyun's fault you are that horny.

After bathing her toes for a few more seconds, you take them out of your mouth and begin to lick the ball of the foot, going down to the sole, arch, swinging your tongue left and right to not miss any spots.

"Ugh, ah! It tickles!", she says, not stopping your worshiping.

Getting down to the heel of the foot, you give it a few licks on the left and right sides, and then you give a lick to the whole sole from bottom to top, finishing the act with a kiss to her cute little toes.

"Good job, my dog, that was actually interesting and amusing to watch; you've done much better than I expected, maybe too well", she says with a smile on her gorgeous face.

"I think she's satisfied with my work", you think to yourself. "Is she not angry anymore?"

"Well, Mr. foot fetishist, I think we both know this is merely a punishment for you", she smiles and taps you on your chest with her foot.

"I think we need to do something about it, don't you think?", she asks with that evil smirk again...

"What's on her mind this time?", you think to yourself, but you nod in agreement.

"Undress, pervert", she smiles and wiggles her toes in anticipation.

Surprised by her order, you hesitate for a few seconds but obey. There goes your hoodie, your jeans, your socks, and your t-shirt; the only piece of clothing that can't hide your massive bulge is your boxers. She checks you out and nods in approval.

"Oh no!", she giggles. "What's that?", she asks, pointing with her foot to a wet spot on your underwear.

"Take it off; I want to see my pet fully", she commands. But you don't want to do that. "I said, take, it, off", she says in a little bit higher pitch and continues, "Right, fucking now. Or do you want me to call the police and report you to them?"

Fuck... You have no choice... There goes nothing; you yanked the underwear aside, trying to cover yourself...

All of a sudden, she snaps a few photos of you, laughing at you.

"Hey! What the fuck are you doing?!?", you ask angrily, trying to cover your face and your erect dick.

"Oh yeah, this will do; I bet she's going to like it", she says, completely ignoring your question. "And, send", the "click" sound comes out of her phone, and a laugh of evil Joohyun escapes her mouth.

You are getting even more angry at her. "What the hell? Who the fuck are you sending those to?!"

"Your girlfriend, or should I say ex-girlfriend?", she says, laughing at you.

"YOU SENT IT TO WHO AGAIN?", you raise your voice. "Are you fucking crazy? Who do you think you are?", you ask her.

" No, who the fuck do you think YOU are, to raise your voice at me?", she replies. "You are a fucking nobody, just a small director of a filming crew for a big ass entertainment company; you have no authority or power; nobody knows you; you are a fucking noname", she says with a huge smile and pride in her voice.

Even though you think she's evil and has no right to abuse you here, you know that she is correct. You are a nobody; you have no power. She, on the other hand, does have the power, and she's loved by the media, so nobody will believe you that you've been bullied or offended by her... There is no way you can win this...

"You are evil", you say...

"Yeah, I know that", she says with a calm voice. We are done here."

She puts her shoes on, gathers her things, and walks to the door.

"Don't be sad about your girlfriend's dog; you have a master now; wait for my call", she says with a smile on her face and leaves the room...

"How did she even know my girlfriend's phone number? Did she plan all of this shit?", you ask an empty room, but obviously there is no answer.

"This fucking bitch", you say, punching the desk with all your anger.

You put on the clothes that Joohyun made you take off and leave the room. The filming set was empty.

"I guess everyone left. Well, at least there was nobody to witness your defeat", you think to yourself.

You check your watch, and it's 11:38 p.m.

You go to the elevator, downstairs into the hall, through the security gates, and leave the building.

You catch the taxi and go home. By the time of your arrival, you have played all of the scenarios in your head about how to explain to your girlfriend what the fuck she just received on her phone.

You arrive at your apartment building in 15 minutes, then go to the 11th floor, fishing for the keys while on the elevator. All of your good memories with your girlfriend are flashing before your eyes; those good times are gone...

You get into your apartment, expecting the worst scenario to play out.

"Hey honey, you are late today. How was work?", she asks you with a smile on her face.

"H-hi", you reply, confused. Why is she not mad at me? "If I were her, I'd have scolded myself or killed myself."

"Fortunately, Miss Bae messaged me that you were going to be late, so I prepared a late dinner for you; she's so nice! I'm so glad that the rumors on the internet that she's a bad person are all false!", she exclaims happily. "Food is on the table; I'm going to bed", she continues, yawning at you.

"O-okay, thank you. G-good night.", you reply to her, seeing her off to the bedroom.

"What the actual fuck is going on?", you ask yourself in bewilderment. "Did Bae Joohyun trick you? What a fucking psycho!"

In the blink of an eye, you munch on all of the food your girlfriend prepared for you and go to the bathroom to take a cold shower and clear your mind.

"What a tricky little bitch this woman is..." Bae Joohyun, the woman who makes you angry and horny at the same time Thoughts about her made you rewind all of the things that happened this evening: her scent, the taste of her feet, her hot, evil face... In a second, you find yourself rocking hard again... Thinking about her, you furiously jerk off, moaning her name a few times.

Getting down from your orgasm, you wash yourself and get out of the shower.

After wiping yourself with a towel, you dress in your pajamas, go to the bedroom, and lay down next to your girlfriend. That night you didn't get much sleep, thinking about Bae Joohyun, thinking about what happened and what you had done... "I'm a cheater", you think to yourself...

For two days straight, you were not able to get her out of your mind for a second — her smell, her voice, the look on her face when you were worshiping her feet...

Another two work days fly by with boring shootings with some boring idols. All your thoughts are about that day; this was the most memorable thing that ever happened to you, even though your career and your relationships were at stake.

"Shit, I think she really could've reported me to the police, and I might've ended up in jail or something", you exclaim.

Even in bed with your girlfriend, you have imagined Joohyun. "Am I obsessed with the person that actually almost ruined my life? Why is this happening? I need to visit a psychologist", you think to yourself. "I might be crazy..."

It is 10:30 p.m., and you are back home from work having a meal with your girlfriend.

**BZZ BZZ**, your phone buzzing all of a sudden. A message notification from some unknown number appears on your screen. Without stopping to munch on your meal, you open the message.

"Missed me, doggie? ;)", the message said. Surprised by this message, you goggle your eyes so much that they almost pop out.

"Missed you? Of course I fucking did, you've been on my mind for almost a week, and I can't stop fucking thinking about you, your scent, your smile, how you talked to me, your teasing-", you stopped typing your response and erased your message.

"No, if I send her something like this, it will only mean that she won and that she really got to you..."

**BZZ BZZ**, another notification: "Hotel apartments in 30 minutes", the message says.

"What am I supposed to tell my girlfriend? It's almost 11:00 p.m.!

**BZZ BZZ**, and another notification; it's a video this time.

The message contains the video; you open it up and... You almost choked on your food and started to cough.

It's you, worshiping her foot... Sniffing her toes, sucking on them, and licking every part of her sole.

You rewinded everything that happened that day in details, and you immediately have a boner because of it, "How the hell did she even film this, that sneaky bitch..."

**BZZ BZZ** "I'm pretty sure you don't want to know what is going to happen if you don't show up, right? (^_^)", another message says.

"Yes...", you send your reply to her.

"Good, Four Seasons Hotel, room 317, and don't be late :)"

**Sigh** You put down your phone and go get into your clothes, you get the keys and put on your shoes.

"Hey, are you going somewhere?", your girlfriend asks you with a sleepy voice as she gets out of your bedroom.

"Y-yeah our editing crew hasn't completed the episode of a show we are supposed to air tomorrow, so they need all the extra hands we can get", you lie to her. "I'm not sure if we're going to complete this fast or not, so don't wait for me; go back to sleep, honey."

"Oaaaah-kay", she says, yawning. "Don't overwork yourself, please", she says, reaching for your face for a kiss. You give her a fast peck on the cheek.

"I'll try not to", you reply to her with a smile, and then leave.

"What the fuck am I doing with my life?", is the only thought that crosses your mind.

The time is 11:04 in the Four Seasons Hotel hall at the reception desk.

"Hello, sir, how may I help you?", a cute receptionist girl asks you.

"Umm... Room 317, please", you say nervously.

"Here is your key, please", she says, handing you the keys. "Please have a wonderful night, sir", she continues, giving you a bright smile.

"Yeah, if only that was possible", you mumbled under your nose.

"Sorry, sir, I didn't catch that", she says, confused.

"N-nothing, what floor was it again?", you reply to her.

"Top floor, sir", she said with a smile again.

Then you head to the elevators; getting to the 29th floor was quite easy, and then you go to the doors of room 317.

You get the keys out of your pocket and are about to open the door. "What the fuck am I doing with my life?!?! It's not too late to go to my girlfriend, tell her everything, and beg for her forgiveness; maybe it's still possible to salvage our relationship?", you say.

"I should leave...", you continued, "It is absolutely wrong!", you turn around and are ready to leave when the door opens and you see her...

"Mmm, my servant has arrived", she says with a seductive voice and a smile on her gorgeous face. "Well, come in then", she says, turning around and getting back inside. Your mind goes blank on the spot, and you just obey...

She's wearing a tight black dress with an open back; it also barely covers her thighs. On her feet, she has some black shoes with a strap going over the top of her feet.

"Wine?", she asks, pointing at the half-empty bottle resting on the expensive table near the massive couch.

You reply with a nod, sitting down. She picks up the bottle and pours the dark red liquid into two glasses, putting one on one side of the table for you and taking one for herself.

She then sits on the left side of you, defiantly putting both of her feastworthy legs on the couch.

You try to distract yourself by looking around and checking out the whole apartment. "This must be a fortune to get this room at least for one night", you say.

"Yeah, that's one of the perks of being a top idol at our agency; I can stay here whenever I want thanks to the connections our top managers have", she comments, sipping some wine, and then continues.

"So, how are things with your girlfriend? Was she mad at you when she saw the pictures of you licking my foot?", she asks with a devilish smile, the same smile that got you going a few days before.

"You tricked me; you haven't sent her anything; you just wanted to torture me; you wanted me to feel terrible, to feel like a cheater and a total dick!", you exclaim, taking a big sip of wine from your glass.

"Ironic, but you are dick", she says with an indifferent voice. "If you were not a cheater, then you would not have come here", she continues, taking another sip of wine.

She is correct, though... Why DID you come here? If you were not a cheater, you would have been at home with your girlfriend... Fuck... Idiot...

Getting mad at yourself, you downed a whole glass of wine...

"Wow... That's not how you drink expensive wine, you peasant", she says with a disappointed face.

Weird silence comes to the room; only the sound of the air conditioner can be heard. Joohyun is drinking wine, and you are just staring at her like an idiot.

She puts her glass down on the table, stretches her arms and legs, then gets comfortable resting her elbows on the back of the couch.

"Why am I here, Miss Bae?", you spill the obnoxious question.

"Give it a guess", she replies with a cute smile.

"I don't know? Torture me again? Make me do things that will ruin my life?", you ask her with some anger and impatience in your voice.

"You know exactly why you are here, you want to continue what we started last time", she said.

"N-no, I'm here to save my life and career; in order to do that, I have to comply and do whatever your fucked-up mind comes up with", you answer her, thinking how annoying she is.

"Is that so?", she asks, pouting, putting her legs on your thighs. Her feet are very close to your dick.

This gets you off guard. Just her legs in your crotch start to give you an erection.

"Y-you blackmailed me, so did I even have a choice?", you ask her nervously.

"I think you already know the answer", she replies, reaching for her shoes and slipping them off, revealing her cute little feet to you once again and wiggling her toes.

She has bright pink polish on this time, and you notice that her feet are quite veiny, not too veiny though, a slight indication of her feet bones adding some texture to it, just perfect.

When she lifts her feet on her heels, her tendons become more prominent, which looks even sexier.

Worried that she might notice your forming boner, you started to sweat a little trying to shift on the couch, and kind of spaced out.

She shoves her foot right into your face, slightly kicking your cheek with her toes and ball of the foot.

"Hello, anybody home?", she says, still kicking you with her little foot.

Immediately, you regain your strength and gently grab her cute little feet. You massage her soles, between her toes, heels, and balls of the feet.

"Ooooh yeah, just like that, oh yeah, it feels so good; how are you so good at this?", she asks, appreciating your skills.

"I've taken masseur courses and had—", she didn't let you finish your sentence.

She puts her toes on your lips, "No talking, Mr.", she says with a smile.

You got the hint by enveloping those toes in your mouth, sucking on them one by one, licking between them, and sucking again.

"Oooh, Mmmm", she gasps. "Yes, yes, my sweet boy, worship my feet; do you love them that much?", she asks you with a sweet yet seductive voice of hers.

You don't say anything, switching to another foot performing the same act with her toes licking and sucking it.

She starts to moan a little, so you switch to her smooth soles.

First, you put both of them on your face, embracing their softness and elegance.

Her feet have the same rose scent as the last time, but it is much more distinctive this time, with almost no sweat scent, as if she just took a shower before your arrival.

Then, after sniffing her soles for a minute or so, you start to swing your tongue left and right, up and down, licking every spot.

But why does it feel different? There is something wrong with her behavior. She is not trying to take her feet away from you; she lets you worship them as much as you want.

Sweet moans distracted you and made you look at what she was doing. While you were concentrated on sucking on one of her toes, Joohyun slipped her fingers in her underwear and started to play with her pussy, stimulating her clitoris, which was already wet because of you. The view of Joohyun masturbating in front of you made you stop completely.

"Uhh... Fuck", she whines, "wh-why did you stop?", without stopping the motion with her **burried** hand, she moans.

With the grace of a cheetah, you shifted your position to face her, gently grabbed both of her butt cheeks, and dragged her ass closer towards you, slipping off her underwear. All of this happened so fast, leaving her no window to react to it.

"W-what are you doing?!", she exclaims, trying to hide her dripping wet pussy crossing her legs, but you don't let her do that, grabbing them and putting them both on your shoulders. You take both of her petite hands off her entrance; she does not really put up any fight, letting you look at her lower bottom in all its glory.

Pinkish-red color of her lips, clean shaven or even lasered, slim, and dripping with woman juices.

Her face has changed in anticipation of your next move. And who are you to make your queen wait?

You start off by just rubbing her pussy with the palm of your hand up and down, but it was enough for her to produce a sweet moan. Then you do a circling motion on her clitoris with your fingers, forcing her to squeal a little.

"N-no p-please I'm too sensitive,", escapes her mouth. She does not resist though; it's a sign that you shall proceed. You insert your middle and ring fingers into her, making her moan loudly. You start the in and out motion, which makes her moan even louder with each motion, the best music to your ears.

It has been nearly half a minute, but she's already dripping profusely all over your hand. "What a dirty slut", you think to yourself.

With your free hand, you did something she would never expect you to do: you rubbed it on her rear entrance, teasing the areola with your middle finger, and then you inserted it inside, which almost made her scream.

"W-What the f-fuuuuhhhhck", she couldn't contain herself. "Aaah f-fuck, not my butt, i-it's not right", she can't stop moaning and screaming; attempts to muffle her own screams and moans with her hands are unsuccessful.

This doesn't last long, though, and you completely stopped the motion by withdrawing your fingers from her.

"Hey! I was almost done!", she exclaims with a lewd pout on her sweaty but gorgeous face.

"I know", you replied with a grin, leaning forward. Diving in between her milky thighs, you start to lick her pussy while inserting your middle finger inside of her asshole once again.

"FUCK! OH MY GOD!", she screams in protest, but you already know she enjoys it.

You nimble her clitoris with your tongue, making circle movements around it with each motion. With each motion, you anticipate what is about to come. A little bit more stimulation was more than enough.

"Oh my god, I'm going to... fuuuuuck", she groans and squeals. You speed up your pace, licking and sucking her whole entrance while fingering her butthole. "I'M CUMMING!", she screams, crossing the line of no return.

A gush of excitement escapes her core, and she clasps her thighs tightly on your head, almost crushing it. You don't waste any time embracing all that she has to offer; those female secretions are going all over your face, in your mouth, and under her, staining the couch.

After what felt like eternity, she eases her thigh grip on your skull, coming down from her high.

Wow, that was unexpected; I didn't know you would be such a squirter, Miss Bae", you say, getting up.

"I-I didn't expect it to be so good either", she replies to you with an exhausted, stuttering voice. "I think I've never had an orgasm like that".

She picks up her phone from the table, browses through it for a second, and shows you the screen. "Your due is paid. Look, I've deleted all of the videos and pictures I took of you that day..."

"I don't know if I should believe you; you tricked me the last time", you answer to her.

"That is why I will let you have some pictures of me instead, to prove to you that I'm not mad at you anymore", she says, giving you the phone. "Go ahead, make some shots".

You take the phone and start to snap pictures of her naked pussy that you just feasted on, some shots of her feet that you just worshiped, and some of her ass that you just fingered.

When you are finished, you hand the phone back to her, and she sends all of the photos that you just took.

"No way, is she for real right now?", you think to yourself. "She actually sent me those pictures.

"Are you going to blackmail me or report me to the police for the possession of these photos?", you ask her.

"No? Why would I do that? It doesn't really make sense to me to report you now and lose the best worshiper I ever had?", she says with a huge smile on her face.

"I guess?", you give her a cold response, "Now that I've **repaid** you, I should go home".

"No, we are not finished", she says, getting up, grabbing you by the arm, and throwing you back on the couch. She's fully recovered.

She's getting on top of you, grinding her wet pussy on your bulge.

Staring right into your eyes, she is everything right now, the most beautiful woman in the world and she is yours now.

After a few more seconds, she dismounts. You let her lead, waiting for her next move. She gets on her knees, positioning herself between your legs.

She drags her palm up and down on your bulge, feeling the rock-hard erection; this makes you shiver. She does not tease you for long, though; she unbuckles your belt and throws it away, unbuttons, and unzips your pants.

Grabbing both your pants and underwear, she yanks them past your knees, releasing your erection to the world.

"Wow", she says, admiring the length and hardiness of your shaft, "are you so hard just because of me? That's not good; how can I let you go home with a boner like this?", she continues, "I think we should do something about this", she smirks at you.

She grabs your cock with one hand and your balls with another. Starting slowly with moving her small, delicate hand up and down your shaft, in the meantime, massaging your balls pent up with a few days of unreleased semen.

"Do you like it?", she says with a smile. "I can be a very good girl, you know?", she smirks and speeds up the pace, making you throw your head back and enjoy what she's doing.

"Fuck, of course I do", you groan a little. "I wonder how you learned these techniques".

You're gonna like this then, she says, and she starts to lick your balls, adding another layer to the act. She jerks you off even faster with one hand, rubbing your head with another.

Louder groans escape your mouth, indicating that she's doing everything right.

Then comes a complete stop... "What- why-", you were about to start to protest missing the friction on your cock, that's when she replaces her hands with her mouth sealing her puffed lips around your head and almost with the same pace she starts to bob her head up and down your shaft.

Slurping your precum, she swirls her tongue all over your cock, giving you probably the best head of your life.

"FUCK, J-Joohyun, I'm gonna fucking cum if you don't slow down!", you exclaim, but you started to move on your own helping her with the pace she chose to blow you with, chasing the orgasm that you were looking for.

She slows down the motion, keeping only the head of your cock in her mouth for a few more seconds, swirling her tongue around the tip. Then she removes her mouth from your cock. "No, no, no, we can't let that happen right now", she says, gasping and almost running out of air.

She gets up and yanks your sweaty hoodie and shirt off you and then mounts you again, "I need your cock in me so bad!"

You grab her gently by her ass cheeks to help her aim, positioning your cock head on her front entrance. She couldn't wait much longer, so she took the initiative and sank on your rock-hard rod, making both parties produce groans caused by the friction.

"Holy fuck, you are so fucking tight!", you manage to say.

"Fuck, yes, you are so big in my pussy", she compliments you back.

Impatience-impatience, you do not let her decide what to do next, so you take the matter in your own hands, literally.

Grabbing her by the hips, you impale her on your dick with all your might, reaching the depths of her core.

"Fuck, so deep inside of me", she moans, picking up the pace. "Yes, fucking destroy my pussy, ravage me, big boy".

In the act of euphoria, her hands are wandering all over your chest and stomach, scratching you here and there and leaving marks.

"Fuck, Joohyun, your pussy is so fucking good, the tightest one I've had in my life!", you exclaim, grabbing her voluptuous thighs even stronger.

Both of hers and your moans and sounds of sex can probably be heard from miles away... But who the fuck cares? People should expect something like that to happen in hotels.

All of a sudden she kisses you, the first ever kiss between you two. Her tongue is getting into your mouth... You don't resist her at all; instead, you join her with your tongue, taking the ""fight"".

Seconds become hours; you don't want this to stop, ever... Grasping for some air, she's breaking the kiss.

"Fuck, I'm cuming again; this cock is too much for my little pussy, FUCK!" - she screams, releasing a small portion of her female juices: "Ah fuck, p-please slow down; you are gonna break me", she continues with another moan-squeal.

But you have other plans; you don't even think to slow down the motion; instead, you increase the pace, hugging her tighter and pistoning your dick in her with a high speed.

"F-f-f-fuuuuuck! Ah! Stop!", she gasps and cries out loud. "I'm cumming", she moans.

Yes, Joohyun, cum for me, cum on this cock", you demand, squeezing her.

Right that instant, she surrenders to the pleasure. For the second time of the night, she's releasing her woman fluids. Her liquids are gushing on your cock, adding more lubrication, and her pussy contracts, squeezing your dick much harder, bringing even more resistance to the motion.

"Fuck, Joohyun, you are too tight on my dick; I'm not gonna last long", you say to her, getting ready to deposit your cum into her womb.

"N-no", she gasps, trying to catch some air. "D-don't you fucking dare", she tries to make a mad face, still high from her own orgasm.

"B-but-" - you were about to start to protest.

That's the moment when you hear the suite bedroom door opening, taking you by surprise. You stop completely.

An extremely gorgeous girl gets out of the room and heads towards you.

"S-Sooyoung? What the fuck are you doing here?", you ask her, pulling out of Joohyun and sitting down and covering yourself with one of the pillows.

"Hello oppa", she replies with a big yawn, sitting down on the couch next to you two as if nothing is happening.

"Jesus, Did you hear everything happening in here?", you asked her.

"Well, not everything; I was asleep until unnie started to scream", she said, smirking at Joohyun.

"And yeah, nobody is allowed to cum inside her, not even a cutie like you; she hates it", Sooyoung decrees. Me, on the other hand, I let my man blast my pussy with all they got", she adds, lifting her lingerie and trailing her panties with a few fingers, giving you a lustful wink.

Then she gets up and comes closer to you, running her hand on your arm, going to your chest, your abs, and then trailing down to your dick that was inside Joohyun just a few moments ago. Joohyun has been silent for now, still panting from the orgasm she just had.

"Here, let me help you", she says, giving you a kiss on your chest and starting to pump your cock.

Her hand is so soft, but her grip is very firm. She starts her handjob slowly, but in a few seconds she goes full throttle, bringing you close to the edge.

"F-fuck, so good. I won't last long, Sooyoung...", you moan.

"It's okay, where do you want to finish?", she asks with a huge smile on her face.

So many options: feet, tits, abs, thighs, face... "Face, y-yes I want on your face", you produce half a moan, almost going beyound the edge.

She gets beside Joohyun on the couch, bringing her left cheek to Joohyun's right cheek. Joohyun still remains silent.

You take your dick in your hand, furiously jerking to the sight of two women laying down on the couch in front of you.

"Give it to us, cum sweet boy; blow that fucking load on our gorgeous faces", she says, looking right into your eyes.

"Fuck, Sooyoung! Joohyun!", you scream their names...

The first streak of white goo lands on the bridge of Sooyoung's nose, and with a few splashes on her left eye, she shuts her eyes. The next one you aim at Joohyun, trying to mirror the same thing that you did to her friend, but on the right side of the face. The third streak lands on Sooyoung again, this time a little bit higher on her forehead and with a few drops on her bangs. The fourth streak is less powerful than the other three, so you aim it at Joohyun's ripe lips.

Fifth and sixth are landing between Sooyoung's right cheek and Joohyun's left cheek, adding to the mess that you already made.

After finishing all of this, you were going to peck your dick on their lips, but Sooyoung is already on it, taking your cock in her hand and putting the head in her mouth, sucking out the remaining cum from your shaft. This brings pleasing shivers to your whole body. Feeling the lack of strength in your legs, you collapse on the couch beside Sooyoung.

Tired but satisfied, you look at two gorgeous women covered in your cum.

Sooyoung scoops your load from her own face, immediately putting all of it in her mouth.

"Mmm, you are tasty, oppa", she says, licking her lips and giving you a cute, sexy wink.

After that, she does not waste time; she pounces at her unnie and starts to gather your cum from her face, licking her cheeks, lips, and nose bridge.

Eww, Sooyoung...", Joohyun finally says after being quiet for a while. "What the fuck? Stop that", she adds with a note of disgust in her voice.

Sooyoung ignores her unnie, finishing everything in a few seconds, and when she's done, she engages with Joohyun in a hot, passionate kiss, swapping all of the gathered cum into Joohyun's mouth.

To your surprise, she did not spit it out immediately; instead, she gulped it down, giving you a cute smile. "Fuck, that's hot", thought crosses your mind.

"Well, that was nice, oppa, but you better invite me to the party in the future", she said with a cute pout. "Next time, you better put that load inside of me", she adds once again, trailing her pussycat with her hand.

All of a sudden, the other girl jumps up from the couch. "you should leave", she says, catching you off guard.

Joohyun, but-", you were about to complain to her that it's late and that you are tired.

"NOW!" She interrupts you, raising her voice. She gathers your clothes from the floor and throws them at you, leading you to the door.

"I'll call you when I need you", she says, kicking you out of the room and slamming the door behind your back.

...

"What the fuck was that?", you say out loud. "Well, that was weird..."

You put your shirt and hoodie on and, with a sigh, head to the elevator...

**BZZ BZZ** new message notification on your phone. It's from Joohyun.

The message contained just a simple "thank you" and a cute picture of her and Sooyoung.

You smile, feeling relieved that she's not mad at you or something, and head home.

[authorhjk1]

Hello writer! I happened to stumble across your work while browsing on tumblr and liked your idea about idols in dresses and making a story about them.

Here’s a very nice one of Irene with easy to take off and easy to access top and bottom features, you get the drift (wink). Hoping you can make something amazing out of it. Have a great day/week ahead of you.

Green

(Bae Irene X Male Reader)

"Keeping going!"

Irene let's her head sink onto the makeup table.

You make her body and the table rock back and forth. She reaches between her legs with one hand, while the other keeps the hair out of her face.

You look through the mirror at Irene. The plastic straps of her dress left her shoulder minutes ago. Her tits slightly swing with every thrust into her. You reach forward taking one of them into your hand, kneading it, before you pinch her nipple.

"Oh, baby!"

Irene moans at your touch. Your cock pushes deeper into her pussy, pushing her further against the table.

"We don't have much time left, guys."

Joy looks at the two of you, watching her leader getting fucked from behind, before looking back at her phone. The other members are sitting next to her, waiting for their next performance. Another group is currently on stage and Red Velvet has to be back in a couple of minutes.

Time for you to up your game.

"It was quite obvious that you were wearing this while you were on stage."

You tease Irene by reaching down, slightly pulling at the metal plug inside her ass.

She moans loudly as you come to a hold.

"Please. Use my ass."

She sighs as you start to pull the plug out. The green emerald matches her dress.

You put it there this morning, knowing that it will make Irene a horny mess for the rest of the day. Her hole clenches onto the metal as more and more of it leaves her. She takes heavy breaths as you see her legs quiver.

Finally, you've pulled the plug out all the way.

"You have at least one tight hole."

Irene gasps as you press against her ring of muscles.

You've been her boyfriend for some time now. And over the years, you've found out that Irene likes to be treated lie a slut in the bedroom. That doesn't just include free-use sex whenever and wherever you want. But also degrading. Irene gets off on the fact that she is getting older, while you are younger than her. And so you occasionally tell her how "loose" she is becoming, or how she is losing her flexibility.

Even the thought of being only a hole for you to fuck makes, the otherwise prideful, respectable, responsible Irene a wet mess. She is completely different compared to being on stage, when she is with you. Submissive, obedient, someone you can boss around.

The plug might have been your idea, when you started putting it inside of her, while she was still asleep this morning. But, knowing your intentions, Irene enjoyed the feeling of waking up with something inside her ass.

"Holy fuck!"

Irene cries out as you bottom out inside of her. The ring of muscles around your cock squeezes you almost painfully tight. You pull back halfway, before thrusting into her again. Slow, but as deep as you can go.

Looking at her through the mirror, another movement behind you catches your eye. Yeri has looked up from her phone. You expect her to do something else and ignore you, since this isn't by far the worst you did to Irene, while her members were in the room. But she shamelessly stares at the two of you from behind.

You are about to call her out, when suddenly, Irene climaxes on the table. You almost lose your breath as her asshole squeezes around your cock, her whole body shaking with pleasure.

"Oh my god! Cuming!"

Irene has a habit of always warning you too late.

You almost climax yourself as you try to prolong your own orgasm as long as possible. Still driving yourself into Irene's ass again and again, you look back at Yeri through the mirror.

She is back to looking at her phone again, but you could swear there is a light blush on her cheeks.

"Babe, please. I have to go soon."

Irene moans, a little weaker than before, while you fuck her ass, letting your hands wander over her tits and her ass cheeks.

She lets you do pretty much everything to her. This scene alone is proof enough. You are buried deep inside Irene's ass, while her members are only meters away, used to the two of you by now. She is about to go on stage, while you fuck her hard and deep, knowing she would have trouble walking later. Even more while dancing.

Could you take it even further? Could you tell her to stay and miss the performance, so you can fuck her longer?

It's something you would never actually consider. The thought does drive you close to your orgasm though. The other girls performing on stage, while their leader is getting fucked in her dressing room like a slut.

"Fuck, Irene."

You groan, signaling her that you are about to cum. You realize that the "were" wasn't decided yet. Since she isn't wearing panties...

"Just put it back in. Please, let me feel it."

She must've read your thoughts, her needy whine sounds more desperate than it usually does. It takes you a second to realize what she means.

The thought alone almost makes you cum. Irene's asshole is the thing that finally pushes you over the edge though.

Whit a loud groan, you bury yourself to the hilt inside Irene's tight ass. You hold onto both of her cheeks painfully tight as you unload inside of her. Irene moans and whines, feeling your semen invade her guts.

You barely hear the members behind you standing up and getting ready. You are too focused on your orgasm. When it finally does wear off, you look at Irene's face through the mirror, after she lifted her head. Her post sex expression makes you hard again, some of her hair is sticking to her forehead and cheeks.

You reach for the metal plug and start to pull your cock out of her ass. A small trail of your cum does escape, but you are able to trap most of it inside Irene's ass, by putting the butt plug where it belongs.

Irene reaches between her legs, scooping up your cum off her leg.

"Thank you, baby."

She is out of breath, but ready to perform again, now that you've filled her with cum. Once she turns around and fixes her dress, you give her a deep kiss. You watch her and her members leave the room before you go back to your seat. You don't want to miss out on watching your girlfriend on stage.

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

Personal Assistants

Smut (Defloration, girl on girl, virgin sex, deep penetration, rough sex, masturbating, creampie, double facial, slight humiliation )

Chapter 1

2,800 Words 

(IU and Irene become your personal assistants for your new entertainment company. You can’t help but take them out for a spin before putting them to work. )

“How is the birthday boy doing?”

“I’m doing great. Happy that you gave me this opportunity to create my own company.”

“It’s the least I could do. You’ve been a great son and have put a lot of work into learning about the company. I just want to give you the chance to build your own.”

“Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate it. I won’t disappoint you. I’ll make sure that I make this new division of our legacy a great one.”

“That’s my boy.” Your dad looks at the closed door and says, “I have a present for you.” 

“You shouldn’t have.” 

“It’s going to help you in your endeavors, plus they will be a good distraction for you if you ever feel stressed.” Your dad opens the door, and in comes two beautiful women. “This is Lee Ji-Eun, stage name IU, and Bae Joo-hyun doesn’t have a stage name yet. They are going to be your personal assistants and be there for whatever you need. I have personally picked them for you.” 

The two women bow and introduce themselves to you. “Annyeonghaseyo, I’m Lee-Ji-eun, and I’m Bae Joo-hyun. We will be serving you from now on, so please treat us well.”

You can’t help but admire their beauty and silently thank your dad for giving you two beautiful assistants. IU then gives you a letter, “Your father told me to give you this letter once we get acquainted,” and hands you the letter. 

“Wish you the best. These two are part of your birthday gift. Their parents have some issues, and they volunteered to be your assistants if I help them a bit. They are instructed to follow every one of your commands. Ask them anything, and they will do it, like telling them to cook or massage you. Hell, you can even fuck them if you want to, and they won’t say no. Have fun, son, and enjoy.

P.S. Also, these two beautiful ladies are also virgins, so enjoy it even more.

From your father,

XXX”””

You look back at them, and you’re in disbelief but wonder if what your father said is true. You know there is only one way to find out, and that’s by testing it. 

With a commanding voice, you say, “Both of you strip.” 

They are both surprised by the sudden command and hesitate but remember the contract they signed. 

Both of them look at each other and slowly undo their buttoned-up blouses and then their skirt until they are both in underwear.

You can’t help but admire their pale white skin that blends with their white bra and panties. “I don’t think you heard me right, I said strip. Strip completely!”

They tremble from your voice and quickly undo their bra, then underwear. They use their hands to cover their small breast and private area. “We stripped as you ordered, sir.” 

They avoid your gaze and look down at the floor. “Both of you have beautiful bodies and cream-white skin.” You walk towards them and slowly caress their skin. IU, looking like the more submissive one, gets your attention first. You place your hand on her small button, her waist, and remove her hands from her breast to make it easier to cup. Just like you predicted, she doesn’t resist and allows you to move her body as you wish. 

On the other hand, Bae Joo-hyun shivers at the slightest touch of your hand on her body. IU pulls you to the side and whispers to you, “Sir, hmm… Bae Joo-hyun hates men. Don’t think she likes being near them. Your father told me to tell you this: “Make Bae Joo-hyun submit to you.” Personally, I won’t resist since you are our new master, but you might need to be a bit forceful with her. Obviously, we know our role here, and of course, we wouldn’t dare to go against you, but you can always give us a command, and we’ll follow it to the letter.” 

You look back at Bae Joo-hyun and at IU, thinking about the complete personalities they both have. You debate if you should ask her to remove her hands from her breast and private area or command her to do it.

After thinking it over, you say, “Calling you by your given name seems too much. I’m going to give you a stage name. Is that okay?”

Bae Joo-hyun finally looks up at you and says, “Yes sir, that’s okay.” 

“You’re going to be Irene from now on.”

“Thank you for the name, sir.” 

“Also, remove your hands; I want to see all of you.”

She looks both angry and afraid and slowly removes her hand from her breast. IU looks at Irene’s unwillingness to remove her hand from her lower area, moves close to her, and grabs her hand, interlocking it with hers for support.

With both women completely exposed, you can’t help but sit on the single couch and admire their bodies. 

“I want you both to kiss each other on the bed over there.”

IU grabs Irene’s hand and walks her to your bedroom. She sits on the bed, slowly grabs her face, and kisses her. Irene closed her eyes and reciprocated, enjoying the kissing session. 

Minutes pass, and you can’t help but enjoy the show. Wanting to see more, you say, “Since you two are enjoying kissing so much, masturbate together.”

Irene is shocked by the sudden request by IU; on the other hand, she wants to please her new master and get on his good side. 

“Yes, as you wish.” 

She pushes Irene down and starts to suck on her tits while playing with Irene’s leaking cunt. She uses her fingers to rub Irene’s soaked folds, causing Irene to moan loudly. It’s her first time having her cunt touched by someone else, and IU’s soft and thin fingers turn her on. 

You watch as the two of them have a good time as they moan in sync. You pull out your cock and begin to stroke it. As Irene drowns in pleasure as IU moves down to eat out Irene. You can’t help but get a bit jealous and decide to do something crazy.

You stand and walk towards the bed at full length and see IU with her ass sticking up. “Fuck you have a really nice pussy” as you trace IU’s folds. IU’s pussy twitches from your touch but doesn’t react and just continues to eat out Irene.

“It’s so nice and small. Let’s see if it’s true,” as you use both of your fingers to split open IU’s cunt. Immediately, you see IU’s juices ooze out and stain the bedsheets. “Damn, you’re this wet already? And look here, it’s true,” as you see her hymen intact. Captivated by the thin layer of flesh, you insert your finger and caress it. IU yelps from your cold touch, making her move her hips. 

Based on her reaction, you see this as a green light, “Fuck it, he said your mine to use, so let’s put you to work.”

Irene opens her eyes and sees you behind IU and panics, “Ji-eun, behind you!” She sees your smirk and watches as you lick your lips. “Please don’t!”

You grab your cock and align to IU’s small entrance. Your cock presses the head of your cock against her thin folds and slowly inserts yourself. IU cries from the sense of her lips being split wide open. Her body crashed onto Irene as she was overwhelmed by the new sensation. 

Little by little, you insert more of your cock until you reach the thin barrier that’s separating you from reaching her womanhood. “Here I go. Take all of my cock” as you press on forward. The both of you can feel the exact moment you take IU’s virginity. She grunts out in pain and digs her nails deep into Irene’s arms. 

Irene feels the weight of both you and IU on her body. Many things rush through her mind, like why is he fucking IU, and is she going to be next? She was originally okay with being his personal assistant and knew that sex was going to happen eventually but not this fast. 

“Fuck, you have a really tight pussy. I don’t think I can wait!” You give her little to no adjustment and thrust the rest of your cock. 

“Ahh… it hurts!! You’re too big! Pull it out! IU’s small body frame doesn’t seem to be able to handle the size of your massive cock, but to you, that doesn’t matter. All that matters in your mind is enjoying her body and nothing else. 

You start off with small thrusts and increase the pace little by little. Your balls slap against her small frame. “I’m going to make sure I have fun with you both. So don’t worry, Irene, you’ll also enjoy some of this.”

After some time, IU’s walls clench on your cock, signaling her orgasm. You pull most of your length, only leaving the tip of your cock, and immediately shove it with such force that makes IU cough. “Fuck!! I’m going to cum!! You feel her orgasm as your cock is coated in her juices.

Instead of letting her relax through her orgasm you increase the thrust of your cock. IU, at this point, is a mess from her orgasm a few seconds ago. “I can’t believe your pussy is this tight. I’m going to make sure we enjoy this,” as you look at Irene. 

“Wai…wait…don’t go so fast, you’re rearranging my insides!”

“Don’t worry about that. Worry about pleasuring my cock instead.”

As you continue your thrusting, IU begins to lose consciousness. Her mouth oozes drool while her eyes are rolled back. Irene can only watch as she sees IU getting destroyed by your cock. The only thing going through her mind is if you’re going to be satisfied with just IU or if you’re going for her next. 

“Fuck…I’m going to cum!” You give her one last thrust and release a large wave of cum. Her cunts immediately milks your cock, filling her womb. You feel your core completely hot as you finish your own orgasm. 

“Fuck… that felt really good. I think I can go another round,” as you pull out your cock from IU’s freshly deflowered cunt. The only sound you hear is a loud pop, followed by a mixture of cum and IU’s nectar staining the bedroom sheets. 

You walk to the bathroom to get yourself clean, and when you return, you see Irene trying to wake up IU. “Wake up, please,” as she taps her cheeks. Wanting to tease Irene, you say, “Alright, ready for round two?” 

Those were the words she didn’t want to hear; she knew after seeing IU getting fucked by your massive cock she might end up the same way. You walk towards the bed, move IU’s unconscious body to the side, and grab Irene’s hand. “Come over here, and let's have some fun.” She knows she can’t reject any of your commands without facing the consequences. So without a complaint, she follows you towards your couch and sits on the empty seat. 

“Sorry for what you just saw, but I really couldn’t help it; her cunt looked so inviting that I couldn’t resist. But don’t worry, I’m not going to force myself on you. You’re going to be the one to decide when you give your first to me, but don’t take too long because I’m not too fond of people who make me wait. Do you understand?” 

Irene nods her head, “Yes, I understand, sir.”

“Okay, sounds good. Now that we have an understanding, how about we have some fun.”

Confused, Irene asks, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I want you to suck my cock” whipping your flaccid cock in hand. 

“You want me to su…suck it?”

“Yeah, you think I’m going to leave you without a taste? I’m not that mean, I treat everyone fairly. IU got a little extra, but that’s on me. I want us to get to know each other better, so I’m only going to say this once, suck my cock.” 

With a smile on your face, she looks at your cock and reaches for it. You can see her hands slightly trembling as she holds it in her hand. “Don’t be shy; it's not going to bite. Just hold it nicely, give it a few strokes, and put it in your mouth.”

With her right hand, she gives you a slow pump, waking up your member once more. Little by little it slowly wakes up, “Focus on the head, pull the skin down.” Irene does as she’s told and pulls your foreskin back, revealing your mushroom tip. “Come on, lick it.” She slowly moves her head, sticks her tongue out, and likes the tip of your cock. It twitches, which catches her off guard. 

Irene tilts her head up, looks at you, and looks back down. She knows there is no way out and accepts her fate as our personal plaything. She hesitantly opens her mouth and slowly takes in the tip of your cock. 

“Good girl, take it nice and slow. There is no rush.” 

She takes your cock a small amount at a time until it's a fourth way inside. You place your hand on the back of her head and say, “Alright, just relax your mouth and don’t close it, okay?” She nods, and you bob her head slowly. With her head going up and down, she can feel it getting bigger, enough for it to reach her throat. This causes her to gag and place her hands on your legs to push you away. 

“You’ve never sucked at cock, huh.” Irene looks at you and nods her head from side to side. “I guess it can’t be helped. Just lick it instead” and pull your cock back out. 

So for the next few minutes, all she does is lick your cock from top to bottom as well as your balls. You can't help but feel disappointed, but instead of focusing on the bad side, you think to yourself, “I can train her to my preference.”

Suddenly, from the side of your eye, you see IU lift herself back up and turn her head next to you. Her face is a complete mess, her mascara is ruined, and her hair is undone. She makes her way down the bed and tries to walk but stumbles. Her legs are completely numb, and the more she walks, the more cum runs down her thighs. But like the good little girl she is, she makes her way to the couch, gets on her knees, and gives you a look of lust. 

“Seems like someone knows her place. You’re going to be responsible for teaching Irene a thing or two, okay.” IU nods her head and sticks her tongue out. You stand up and stroke your cock in front of IU at a medium pace. She patiently waits for her treat and focuses on your cock. 

“Fuck, I’m about to come soon.”

Irene looks at IU on her knees, her tongue out, and does the same. She gets on her knees next to IU and sticks her tongue out as well.

“Ohh… you’re getting the hang of it, that’s good.”

You feel the cum in your balls making its way up to your cock, and you spray both their faces white. Irene closes her eyes, but IU, on the other hand, stays still and enjoys her treat. 

“You both look good in white; now, how about you kiss and swap that cum you both caught in that pretty mouth.” 

Like good girls, they don’t wait and have a kissing session as you video record it on your phone to enjoy.

——————- 

A year since that day, and both of them have been a great help in setting up your company. They look through a list of possible candidates for the company and circle the ones they think have potential as trainees.

“What do you think about these five girls right here, Irene?” 

“They look good; one is a really good dancer, and the other one can sing.”

“What about our list?”

“It’s going well. I can’t help but want all of them to join, but the boss wants talent. So for sure, I want these right here,” as IU shows Irene her picks. 

[amuyyi]

unfiltered y/n .

synopsis; two drabbles of y/n being the oldest of newjeans, yet arguably the most chaotic and childish. 21 year old y/n who's very gen z coded and borderline chronically online from a young age.

trope; platonic! newjeans x f!reader, just danielle + hyein bc im lazy

wc; 1.9k

cw; n/a

a/n; guys i think i fr forgot how to write erm so sorry this is dookie but i needed to write something lighthearted to keep my sanity even tho writers block is real rn thumbs up emoji ... also y/n is just me again LMFAO

Humming, your eyes glaze over the Phoning chat. You and Danielle sat comfortably within your practice room, the younger girl joining shortly after seeing you had started a livestream. There was no particular reason for this stream, you simply felt like entertaining your fans for the day. Throughout the livestream, you and Danielle simply talked, being some of the most social and extroverted members of Newjeans, it wasn’t hard for you two to popcorn different topics from one another.

“Did you ever read Warriors?”

“What, that book series about the emo cats?”

“They’re not emo– well…. Actually…”

Both you and Danielle burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to explain the lore of the Warrior Cats series, which then went into you making a powerpoint on why your company should allow you to have a cat in the dorms, which then went into a conversation about how you guys wanted to decorate your ideal home…

When you and Danielle were put into a room together, it almost seemed like you two fueled each other's energy in a never ending cycle. Still, as your laughter dies down, the pair of you decide to just chill, even for a moment. Your attention gets drawn back to the comments whilst Danielle aimlessly scrolled on her phone for a bit.

“y/n, who are your favorite kpop artists??” You read out loud.

Your eyes light up at this question. Before becoming a trainee, you were a die hard fan of many groups back when you were younger. Honestly.. You were a bit of a chronically online kid, despite your social tendencies. Back in the day, you ran a kpop stan twitter, and are well versed in the new vocabulary of online meme culture… as embarrassing as it was to admit the more you thought about it. 

After reading the comment, the mischievous and playful glint in your eye was impossible to ignore, and Dani seemed to pick up on the shift in energy. Shooting you a suspicious glance, you decide to speak up.

“Ah there are so many groups I love… But.. I’d have to say Red Velvet and LOONA...!”

It was an innocent enough answer at a glance, but to some, the underlying message behind it was glaringly obvious.

Almost immediately after speaking, in the most obvious and not discreet fashion, you freeze, arching a brow making a curious looking expression at the camera as you pucker your lips. It was undeniable that you were referencing an all too familiar meme within the LGBTQ community.

Honestly, you were never one to shy away from your sexuality. You were lucky enough to know who you were from a young age. (All of your odd childhood crushes practically spoke for themselves. Rain from the movie Spirit, for example. The horse.) 

It wasn’t long before the girls caught onto you, and they have been nothing but supportive since. Oftentimes they would tease you over your clinginess with your other members, or how you’d very publicly fawn over other female idols, while nearly all of the light drained from your eyes when approached by a man. 

In hindsight, it was a surprise that they didn’t catch on sooner. The way you acted so stiff around male idols when forced to do Tiktoks with them, or how you never entertained their advances. However, it seemed like Some fans did seem to notice faster than your own members, and deemed you “Irene's daughter” as a result— a title in which you wear with pride, might you add! 

That wasn't to say you didn't have your own hardships and struggles with your sexuality at the same time, though. Of course, being a part of one of the biggest kpop groups of your generation, you couldn’t express your sexuality publically. Not yet. It was too risky. A large chunk of your fan base consisted of straight men anyways… Potential backlash would be detrimental. You didn’t want to drag the others down with you. Not when you guys have so much ahead together.

So you keep your head low, put on your best smile, and focus on your members.

….Until moments like these, of course.

Eyes practically boggling out of her head, Danielle bursts into laughter, shoving your shoulder with one hand while she covers her face with her sweater sleeve.

“Unnie…!” she scream-whispers, baffled by your words. Of course she knew what you were hinting at, she didn’t live under a rock her whole life.

Seeing Danielles reaction only seems to egg you on though. What? You weren’t saying anything explicitly queer. Only the people that mattered would know. Worst case scenario, you’d be in some odd rumor or speculation that had no real evidence to back you up. Maybe you’d be seen as an ally. Humming once again, you pretend to think.

“Though if you want to know about male artists….” You take a significantly longer time to answer this as Danielle is left a giggling mess next to you. She seemed almost a little distressed through the laughter, but she trusted you.

“I would probably say I like EXO and Shinee the most.”

Once again, you make that damn face, and Danielle throws her head back in hysterical laughter. She grabs your shoulder and shakes you around, whispering quiet scoldings into your ear as you snicker, feigning an innocent look as the chat practically blows up.

[cha3wonz] – HELLO???? [kaheii] – y/n blow a kiss if u like women [luv__newjeans] – okay ally

Unsurprisingly, clips of your shared live with Danielle went viral. Many stan accounts on twitter began to speculate that you were queer, whilst others fully embraced it. Your favorite posts were the edits of you with the rainbow flag followed up by a question mark. It was all too good.

Honestly, you didn’t even think it was a big deal. You didn’t pay much attention to other male groups– you never did, really, but when you looked at the new incoming generation of boy group members… They practically had the whole pride parade following them. 

There were a few minor articles about you here and there, but you were mostly off the hook.

Danielle lay sprawled across your back whilst you lay on her bed, scrolling through Twitter aimlessly as she laughs at the comments on your recent instagram post.

“It seems that your fangirls can't get enough of you, lovergirl,” she teases lightheartedly as you wiggle beneath her weight, giggling.

Maybe one day you’ll share the news to your fans, and maybe one day they won’t even be surprised. But you’re glad to have what you have now. Just you, your girls, and your ever growing folder of queer y/n memes off of Twitter.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Hyein was in the middle of a solo livestream within her bedroom, lying comfortably in her bed as she showcased various articles of clothing she had bought with Hanni the day prior.

The livestream was going well, peaceful as Hyein makes her way through several t shirts, sweaters, pants, and skirts of all colors and styles.

Right when Hyein was about to reveal her favorite article of clothing from the haul, loud, almost desperate banging rings throughout the room. An almost pathetic sounding yelp of surprise erupts from the girl before she curiously glances at the livestream. 

Leaning forward, she whispers to the camera, “I think… I think there's a creep trying to break in…” 

Suddenly, the door bursts open, with a very flustered and irritated y/n tumbling in shortly after. iPad in hand, you collapse into the bed next to Hyein

“Guys, guy, GUYS. The theme was scene!!! What the hell is this?! Look at THIS versus MY outfit!” You exclaim almost a little too loudly as you shove the ipad in front of the camera. Failing to focus on your screen properly, the viewers simply saw a bright white square as you groaned.

Baffled and still a bit in shock, Hyein speaks up, “Unnie, it's really not that serio–”

“This is bullsh–” You cut yourself off as Hyein snorts loudly at your near slip up. Clearing your throat, you grip your ipad a little tighter than needed, trying to calm down.

“This is unfair. And you know what's worse? Its probably some nine year old with their friends voting for them behind the screen!” You whine out dramatically. With how upset you were getting, it wouldn't be surprising if this genuinely was the one determining factor that would either make or break your night.

Hyein couldn't bite back the amused laugh at your seriousness. 

You took your games pretty seriously. Even if it was roblox. There was something familiar and comforting about it all, really. Lighthearted games like this  played a major part in your childhood— which was, of course, abruptly cut short once you became a trainee at age 14. Now that you were an adult with a job as an idol, you could buy your own robux, buy your own gamepasses and items… and most importantly, stomp on little kids in-game. You were here first, after all.

“Unnie, aren't you like, 21 years old? Don't you think you’re a little too old to—“

“And don't you like— what, 12?!” You shoot back without even missing a beat.

A brief, yet suffocating silence passes as the both of you stare at each other, wide eyed. Never in your years of knowing the younger girl have you ever been so.. sassy to her. You were the oldest, after all. It was your job to take care of her.

Almost instantly, you drop your ipad and tackle the younger girl in a hug, crying out, “BABY HYEIN!!! IM SORRY…!!!”

Hyein on the other hand, was not as reciprocal to your attempts at apologizing. Upon being tackled, half of the air in her lungs practically got knocked out of her, and she finds herself tumbling backwards into the blankets below. Instead of accepting your obviously very real and very distressed apology, she began struggling to wriggle out of your grasp as she yelled out, “NO! LET ME GO UNNIE!! LET ME GOOO!!!”

Though the youngest towered over you by over half a foot, your grip on her was borderline deadly. Squeezing your arms tightly around her neck in an attempt at being soothing and sweet (you werent) you scream at yourself, rocking her back and forth. 

“I'm so STUPID im SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY I JUST WANTED YOU TO PLAY WITH ME.”

Incoherent screams and movement was seen from the livestream for about 5 minutes before Hyein tapped your arm, giving in.

“Fine, fine..! I forgive you unnie, just let me go…!”

The moments following Hyein’s acceptance of her fate seemed to actually go by pretty smoothly compared to the chaos that had just ensued a few minutes prior.

Laying in bed together, the two of you played dress to impress while on the live, occasionally interacting with the viewers, but mostly focusing on winning the game. A comfortable silence passes, the only sound being nails against iPad screens.

The pair of you would proudly showcase your creations to the camera, and shared mutual frustration when neither of you would even place despite the immense efforts you put into your outfits.

“I swear to god Hyein, I’m gonna buy both of us VIP and we’re gonna leave these girls in the dust…”

As you prepare to go up for your final round of the night, Hyein suddenly perks up.

“Oh look, unnie! This outfit is actually pretty good…”

“Huh? Oh!! You're right! This is super pretty…”

“…”

“…”

“Two stars?”

“Two stars.”

[xshadowdelta]

Witch

Irene x Male Reader (3.6K Length)

"Hey rookie, it’s time to work."

You stood up and left that small service room, in whose sign was written 'Authorized Service Only'.

It was your first week in this new summer job as a bellboy at the most famous 5-star hotel, right in the middle of the city with a huge amount of guests every day. You got here thanks to a friend’s recommendation, not your dream job, but you really needed the money, and the pay was juicy. You arrived at the reception hall where your manager was standing next to a mountain of suitcases, feeling as if your soul wanted to leave your body seeing all those bags.

"Miss Bae Joohyun’s luggage, room 362, as soon as possible, she is waiting for it."

It took you a while to place every one of the suitcases in the luggage birdcage, using every skill you had in the Tetris game to not drop them. Then you took the elevator to the third floor, and once there, you drove until you reached the indicated room by your senior.

You knocked on the door and fixed the wrinkles in your jacket, since your first day, the manager had been very insistent on looking perfect in front of the clients. You heard the sound of the door opening and forced one of your best smiles,

"Good morning, Miss Bae, here is your luggage."

The woman in front of you didn’t say a single word as she scanned you up and down, just a slight head move to give you permission to get inside the room, meanwhile, she continues with the phone call in which she was involved.

Oh yeah, another rich middle-aged woman with a major superiority complex. You frowned and let out a whisper that only you could hear.

"Witch…"

But you have a job to do, so you entered the suite along with the luggage and began to unstack all the suitcases.

You looked back at the woman who was now standing, looking at the beautiful views offered by the windows of that room. She was speaking in a foreign language, maybe korean.

Yet you managed to understand the word "stylist" and it gave you the feeling that the person on the other side of the line was getting a good scold.

You could only see the profile of her face, enough to detect a serious and cold expression that you didn't like at all, but still you had to admit that she was a very beautiful woman.

The work was finished at the same time she ended the call. Your eyes met for a moment, and you felt a shiver run through your body. You gave her a small bow before saying goodbye.

"Have a good stay with us, Miss Bae, we are at your disposal." You were already close to the door when her voice stopped you.

"Wait a moment, please."

Another smile was forced in your face before turning on your feet to come face to face with her.

"Do you need anything else?"

"Here is your tip."

She got some bills out of her wallet and offered them to you. You hesitated at first, but you ended up taking them, and for the first time, your smile was a genuine one. You save them in the pocket of your uniform, ready to finally leave that room.

"By the way, just from one look, have you been able to deduce that I am a witch?" Suddenly, your breathing stopped, and your skin tone turned pale white. You were sure you had said it quietly enough for her not to hear that.

"Being a woman as important as me. I must be alert to everything that happens around me, don’t you think?”

Cool, now she can read minds, definitely a witch.

"I apologize, Miss Bae, it was never my intention to hurt your feelings." Your voice trembled, knowing you could be fired because of this.

"Feelings? I put them aside many years ago."

The confusion on your face was notorious, your eyes followed her to see how she took a seat, watching you with a scary look. Another shiver ran down your spine. Running away from there was not a good idea, first because it wouldn't solve anything and would make you look like a coward, but the truth is that you wanted to disappear from the world at that moment.

On the other hand, you could just cry like a baby begging for her forgiveness, that would certainly be ridiculous, but it would save your ass from a guaranteed dismissal.

"Miss Bae…"

"Don’t tell me. Do you want us to forget this incident, right?"

Her face was cold, and her words sounded like ice, sinking deeper and deeper into your chest. But you couldn't articulate a single word, just nodded your head.

For a small period of time, you thought that a halo of kindness would take over her, and she would give in to your request to forgive you, but kindness wasn't in the dictionary of Bae Joohyun.

"Get naked"

It took you a few seconds to understand the request she had just made. She didn't take long to repeat. "What are you waiting for? Get naked"

"WHAT?"

That scream only made her angrier, hitting the ground with her foot, impatient. Her look did not change at any time, she continued staring at you, challenging you.

"I see, you don’t care about this job, so…"

"Wait…"

Your hands started to move, and your uniform jacket fell to the floor. You continued unbuttoning your shirt, making your naked torso visible.

Next was taking off your shoes so you could get rid of your pants that would accompany the rest of the clothes on the floor, leaving you in underwear under the watchful eye of Mrs. Joohyun, who now had a slight mischievous smile while looking at you.

"I think we have a different concept about nudity."

You looked down at your nether area, and then your eyes returned to her. She was really trying to humiliate you in every way. "Everything?"

The coldness of her gaze was enough of an answer for you, making you slide your hands over your boxers, leaving you now completely naked. "Now I want you to stay there, don’t move and pay attention."

You felt like you were about to faint right there when you saw that woman spread her legs on the couch, raising her dress to reveal her panties, which she pushed aside.

She was showing you her naked pussy before she started caressing it with her hand. You couldn't believe your eyes, a minute ago you were fired, and now you had an incredibly hot woman masturbating herself right in front of you. Joohyun licked his own hand as she stroked herself fast, starting to moan with no shame. Despite finding yourself in this complicated situation, watching this show made your body react, and your penis was already completely erect. You tried to move one of your hands towards your penis, but Joohyun's voice stopped you. "Told you to, don't move!" "Remember that your job is at risk."

Then she inserted two of her fingers inside her pussy to stimulate herself more. Hear her loud moans, and the watery sound due to the humidity of her vagina was driving you crazy.

Joohyun continued like this for a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, Meanwhile, you were praying that this torture would come to an end, and miraculously she would decide to forgive you and run away out of there, straight to the employee bathroom to masturbate yourself, thinking about what you were experiencing at this moment.

"Come here" She demanded in an authoritarian tone, and you approached until you were right in front of her, which didn't stop her from continuing to pleasure herself.

"On your knees."

Now, your face was practically a few centimeters from her pussy, but you didn't expect Joohyun to let out one last pleasure scream, squirting directly on you.

You closed your eyes at time, however, now your face was covered by Joohyun fluids, who was now breathing tiredly but still looking at you, with a serious expression on her face.

“Wow”

Was the only thing you could say, you were in shock after what had just happened. You ran your hand over your face, trying to clean up the mess, licking a couple of your fingers in the process.

"Delicious"

"What have you said?" She was stunned, and her voice tone sounded even more enraged.

"You are delicious, Mrs. Bae."

That answer made her get up from the couch in a bad mood. She walked to the pile of your clothes on the floor and grabbed the tie that minutes ago had surrounded your neck, but now was being used to tie your hands at your back.

"What are you doing?" You asked, standing up.

She stood next to you and, without warning, grabbed your still erect penis with one of her hands, making you gasp.

"You keep saying vulgarities, you need a real punishment."

She whispered in your ear, starting to masturbate your penis slowly, making you moan a little bit. She was increasing the pace, stroking you with both hands at the same time.

"You were supposed to feel humiliation, and instead you had the courage to taste my fluids and the nerve to say 'delicious.'  I have never met someone like you, you are quite a challenge."

Your brain was unable to say anything as it was busy moaning in pleasure at Jonghyun's touch.

"Mrs. Bae, I'm about to…"

"Don't you even dare, now it's my turn to taste you."

She stopped touching you and crouched on her knees in front of you. She looked up, straight into your eyes, you saw that look again, that no longer seemed so cold, but immediately closed your eyes because of the immense pleasure you felt when her mouth devoured your cock.

Your body staggered, and you cursed for having your hands tied at that moment. You opened your eyes again only to see how she sucked your cock over and over again at an accelerated but constant pace, damn, you were in heaven.

She grabbed your balls, and at the same time she was sucking you, pressing on them, making you feel a mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Fuck, you have a good dick here."

She spit on your cock, going back to masturbate you, making wet your entire length, so that now when she sucked you, she also slurped some saliva.

“Mrs. Bae…”

She stopped for a second and looked into your eyes again.

"Irene…call me Irene."

The beat of your heart increased because of that, a feeling that was quickly replaced by another wave of pleasure when you noticed how she reintroduced your penis into her mouth, now even reaching his throat, causing her to choke on your cock.

You looked at the ceiling, trying to hold on as long as possible, wishing this moment would never end, then you felt a pinch of pain in your thighs, so you looked down again.

Your eyes found the view of Irene grabbing your thighs with her nails and the entirety of your cock inside her mouth, with some tears welling up in her eyes. She closed her eyes and started moving her head back and forth. You could say she was using you to fuck her own throat.

She stopped to take a breath, but immediately lifted your cock with one of his hands and began licking your balls desperately. "Keep looking at me or this will end here."

It was the first instruction that you would gladly follow.

She ran her tongue along the entire length, licking every inch before giving your tip a special treatment and taking it back into her mouth, this time masturbating you with her hands at the same time as she sucked you off. That made you about to explode.

"Irene…" You managed to say between several moans.

Then she let it off from her mouth again and masturbated you fiercely with both hands, looking at you with lust. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, sticking her tongue out. You knew what she wanted.

There was no need to say anything else. A few more seconds, and you let out a huge load of semen that fell directly into his mouth and face, squeezing until the last drop fell.

Irene's face was now a real mess. She had managed to swallow part of your cum, but other threads of semen fell near her eyes and part of her hair. She didn't mind at all, she was busy cleaning your cock now.

She got up a little later, walking until she stood behind you again, untying the knot that was imprisoning your hands. She took one of your hands and dragged you to another room in the suite, the bedroom with a huge bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she caught your attention again.

"Do you want to keep this job?"

Once again, you nodded your head.

"If you can make me have an orgasm, I'll pretend none of this ever happened, you understand?”

"Loud and clear."

You tried to hide your nervousness as best you could and mentally preparing yourself to give her the greatest effort of your life, your future depended on what happened in the next few minutes.

You took a few steps towards the direction where she was, she was imposing, she was scary, yes, but at the same time, you had a sensation running through your body that you had never experienced before, and you wanted to go until the end.

You bent your head straight to kiss his neck. She let out a sigh, a good sign, you deduced. You trailed kisses along his neck at the same time that your hands roamed her body.

"Not bad, but this is nothing out of this world."

You shouldn't rush, she was provoking you, you knew it. Make a mistake, and it will be over. However, you also knew how to play that game.

"Excuse my clumsiness, Mrs. Bae, my job consists of transporting suitcases, not to sexually satisfy clients, even so you seemed to have enjoyed my cock."

Your lips now kissed the part of her naked chest that was not covered by her dress.

"Even now you are still behaving like a reckless, shut the fuck up and take me off this damn dress…now."

She raised her arms, so the dress came out more comfortably, her black lace bra was still annoying, but with a deft movement it quickly disappeared as well, leaving you with the view of her naked tits.

Your mouth quickly acted as shelter for her boobs, drawing loud moans from Irene. Her hands traveled to the back of your head, pressing you closer against them.

"Just like that, fuck, work on these fucking little tits."

You sucked her boobs and licked her nipples, which at this point were really hard by the moves of your tongue. With every second that passed, Irene became more moldable under your touch.

At that moment, you took advantage of to move one of your hands to her lower zone, totally wet after the first session, you touched her pussy over her panties using circular movements.

"So fucking wet, Miss Bae." You said it with a superior tone.

"Told you to shut up." She was getting angry again.

"As you wish."

You replied and suddenly kissed her lips. Irene opened her eyes in surprise, but it didn't take long for her to respond to the kiss with even more energy, until both of you got separated to take a breath.

"It's funny, men are usually afraid of me, and I love to create that feeling in them, but it also makes them never dare to kiss me. I almost forgot how kisses felt." She said with a half-smile on her face, touching her swollen lips.

"In that case, let me help you remember."

You said, emboldened, kissing her again with passion, making her respond with the same lust and starting a battle of tongues inside your mouths. You lost your balance due to the fury of the kisses, and you fell on top of her when her back hit the bed.

When you separated from her again, you could see how her messy hair had fallen on her sweaty forehead and her cheeks were completely red, but you were surprised by her smile, this time it was a full formed and sincere smile.

"Show me what else can do that mouth of yours."

You kissed her lips again, a quick kiss this time, which was followed by another path of kisses all over her body until you reached her panties, you managed to take them off to finally see her naked pussy.

You kissed her thighs previously before sinking your face against her area, making her moan louder than ever. Your tongue moved fiercely against her pussy folds as Irene's screams filled the room.

"Don't stop, don't even dare to stop."

You were giving your best to make her feel good. Her moans, screams, and bad words only motivated you to continue doing this with more intensity. Having your tongue a rest, you quickly replaced it with your fingers, masturbating her with all your strength.

"Holy fuuuuuck, I’m cuming!" She screamed, curving her back and, once again, squirting a lot from her pussy, messing part of the edge of the bed and the bedroom floor.

She had now difficulty breathing correctly, and her chest was up and down again, trying to calm herself. Your fingers once again caressed her pussy, this time doing it so slowly. You approached to kiss her once again.

"Irene"

You called, so both of you noticed your penis fully recovered, ready for more rounds. She smiled at you, turning around, remaining face down, then you stared at her trained ass.

"Come on, what are you waiting for? Fuck me".

Your penis got excited hearing those words. You stood up immediately to stand behind her. Grabbing her hips and aligning yourself with her pussy, inserting your entire length at once into Irene's pussy.

"God, you're so tight." You moaned, starting to thrust into her.

"Yes, fuck, stretch my fucking pussy with your big cock."

"Holy shit, Mrs. Bae."

You increased your thrusts, making everything more and more primitive, to the point that your balls were colliding with her hips every time you buried your length inside her.

Irene couldn't stop moaning and screaming, grabbing the bedsheets with her hands while moving her hips to give more depth to your moves.

You didn't hesitate to grab one of her ass cheeks tightly with one of your hands and then give her a slap that echoed through the room and made the woman scream. You repeated it a few more times, having the same result.

"This is what you wanted, right? A witch like you just wanted to be fucked this hard."

One more spank to her already red ass, drove Irene crazy.

"Yes! Fuck yes, fuck me please! Don't stop now! Use my witch pussy however you want."

You kissed her neck from behind and ran your tongue down her back as your hips moved at a constant pace for a longer period of time.

"Wait." she said between moans. "I want to see you."

You took out your cock off her, allowing her to turn around, giving her another passionate kiss, you took her hips and brought her closer to the edge of the bed, sitting there, she opened her legs for you.

You entered inside her again, resuming your task of fucking her hard, Irene wrapped her arms around your head, moving a little on the bed, allowing you to fuck her deeper.

"So fucking deep." She sighs, closing her eyes.

When she opened them again, she met your eyes, making her blush a bit. You didn't ignore it and brought your lips closer to hers, touching them but not kissing her.

"Mrs. Bae, I'm about to cum." She took your face in her hands, smiling.

"Inside me, until the last drop… I need it."

That was the last thing you needed, Irene hugged you and in a last effort you fucked her harder than ever until you shot all your cum inside her pussy, making both of you reach an orgasm. Both of you really had made a mess.

Irene laid on the bed, still shaking, with one of her arms covering her face. You laid to next to her, looking directly at her.

"Don't worry, today is a safe day."

"That’s fine of course but wasn't my real concern."

Irene lowered her arm and stared at you for a few moments, her eyes widening as if she had forgotten the reason of this. He pretended to cough in an attempt to hide her mistake by sitting back on the bed.

"Yes, about that… You did your part, so I'll do mine, and I promise I won't say anything about what happened here."

Feeling a big relief at that moment, you didn't say anything more than "thank you" to get out of bed in search of your work clothes. You had a schedule to complete.

"I will stay here for a few days because of work."

You left your shirt half buttoned to watch as Irene leaned against the door frame, now wearing a bathrobe from the bathroom.

"Maybe you can offer me this special service again." Her mischievous smile made your face get one, too. "I am at your total disposal, Mrs. Bae."

[sassyjoy]

back to you

genre: smut

word count: 609

⋆｡˚ ⋆ ☾

"i fucked you once and ever since i can't stop thinking about it." you said breathily when joy pulled away from your lips to kneel down to face your crotch.

your friends said it was fun paying someone to have sex with, but you didn't believe them until you experienced it. you just wanted to try it since it was the thing everyone kept blabbering about. with your friends, you went to a club and you saw this woman and it was the first time that your eyes laid on someone that is insanely beautiful. you find her graceful as she moves on stage and perform a lap dance on one of the male audience. the bid on her was high, and you knew you had to triple the amount the other people were offering. and finally you won. you have the night to have sex with the hottest performer in the club, and her name is joy. 

she is even more gorgeous without her clothes on. looking at her curves leaves you in awe. joy has the body that everyone wants to fuck nonstop. she's fuckable. your first experience with her was phenomenal. it was the best sex you have ever encountered. that is why you find yourself coming back for another session with her. 

joy is kneeling before you as she slowly held your dick with her hand and pump it. joy couldn't even hold your dick completely in her hand because of its thickness. she looked up to you as she put your dick inside her mouth fully until it almost reaches her throat. you reached for her hair and held it up as she bobbed her head faster.

"fuck, babe. you suck me so good." some of your pre-cum released from your slit. joy produced gagging sounds as she sucks you faster. it's obvious that she's taking her time with you, making the dollars you're paying her worth it, but her pace was slow for you. you were getting impatient, so you began fucking her pretty mouth. 

you kept thrusting your cock and her noises were getting muffled as her nose kept hitting your pelvis. 

"ahh… shit!" you pulled out as thick squirts of cum shoot down her neck and chest. joy looks even more beautiful with your cum on her body. you noticed how messy joy now looks. her red lipstick is smudged, she has a  drool, your cum and her saliva all mixed on her lips and chin. 

you made her position on all fours. you gave joy's huge ass a good slap that made her whimper. her eyes rolled back as you slide your thick cock in her little hole. you kissed her shoulder and played with her right breast like a stress ball. 

"you're so fucking tight!" you groaned, giving her butt another slap that echoed the room. 

"fuck me harder, please!" joy moans, then biting her lower lip hard. 

"your ass keep making me back for more, fuck..." every word hit her sweet spot, making her clench around you every time you thrust. your hips slam into her roughly, making her eyes shut tightly as she can't take the pleasure.  

"fuck, i'm coming!" you said as you pound into her faster and deeper. 

"cum in me," joy said as she stutters with every thrust. she felt your dick twitch as you release hot spurts of cum from your cock. joy whimpered upon feeling the white substance in her pussy. cum slowly dripping on her legs and you watch it as you pull out your dick. you knew you drained the shit out of her when she lie on the bed.