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capslocked · 1 year

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STARLET

male reader x cho miyeon

part 1 of another name up in lights

28k words (special thanks to @passingnotions for helping make all my work possible)

“I would rather throw up,” you murmur out of the corner of your mouth, “than do another take of this scene with you.” “Okay.” Miyeon tilts her chin. The lights begin to dim over the blonde hair she has falling over an upturned brow. “Then throw up.”

It takes a few beats—while production staff scurry about the tense silence rolling through the studio—for everything to fall perfectly still.

Miyeon takes a deep breath, and whispers: “I can get you a bucket.”

“Action!” (The one where Miyeon ruins your career, and you ruin her too.)

- That first time the two of you are photographed together, it’s wholly unremarkable. The entirety of the cast is in frame, standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the banner at the presser and pretending that someone had just whispered something worthy of a belly laugh into your ears. Cho Miyeon hangs delicately off your arm, hand wrapped just above your elbow, and all of you are at your most jovial—looking like you’re simply having the most wonderful time, smiles wide and beaming. Because if that isn’t part of the act. You sell the characters, the fiction, the drama even when the cameras aren’t rolling.

The second photo is what gets people talking.

Anyone with half a brain ought to know that if you were sincerely seeing your co-star, an untruth that the general public is apparently beyond happy to eat up, you wouldn’t be so careless to post up outside a small cafe. Certainly not at a trendy place aside one of the busiest streets in the city, but these tabloids are rabid. Like a head injury, that self-condemning desire to get clicks and hits at any cost has long clouded their ability to think, and so it gets plastered right there on the front page of every rag in the industry. Don’t get it confused, the photo looks good. It’s got allure and mischief written all over it. And that’s exactly what you’re going for.

Miyeon’s hair is up, tied into a messy bun, because she’d have hated to obfuscate the work that her floral shoulderless dress was not doing in hiding from the world the most immaculate pair of collarbones you’d ever seen. Then in her hands—between her teeth—she fiddles with the earpiece of her sunglasses, shooting you with the clearest, most flagrant fuck me now eyes that only a blind person might not pick up on (doubtful still). And you’re there, smirking back at her, for even if a photo tells a whole story, this one really only ever needed a sentence: sparks flying, the two of you really hit it off.

It’s a point of contention later—several times actually—but regardless of how you feel, the girl can act.

Now the image that really gets the media whipped into a frenzy is a lot less polished. It’s grainy and the lighting is poor and in a change of pace, the quality of the photo would lead you to believe that it wasn’t premeditated. Which, unfortunately, is exactly how it goes down.

Even still, it's all framed perfectly, infamously, a straight-up disaster. Miyeon is immediately recognizable, unabashedly blonde and gorgeous as ever. You’ve got your mouth on hers and the problems absolutely do not end there: her back is flush against the bricks of the alley, pinned under your weight, and yes, your hands are busy. One up her skirt, the other in her shirt, she’s blushing into you, and you wouldn’t know from the photo, but she’s got her fingers working at your belt and as a collection, it’s all utterly shameless. Everything up to that point had been muted in subtext; both of you know the value of intrigue, the art of letting everyone else connect the dots—this, however, unintentionally becomes a phenomenon.

Lights the internet on fire for a minute.

The shocking part of all this, what ends up being labeled a calamity by people whose opinions actually concern you, is the photo that you assume will haunt you forever and follow you to your grave isn’t even the one where you’re making out with the starlet du jour in the harsh yellow of an exterior floodlight—in the relaxed wickedness only two AM might ever know. No, it’s this photo, the press’s favorite, given how it shows up everywhere. Miyeon’s holding the award for best actress in a lead role in one hand, knuckles tight around the podium microphone with her other. She’s radiant. She’s flustering. She’s breathtaking. She even trips up on her words in a way that’s endearing. And every fool with a blog is infatuated by all of it.

Your own thoughts on the matter aside, the most neutral and economic way to describe it is unintentionally funny. You were with her when she picked out that silver sequin evening dress, sparkling in the demand of stage lights and camera flashes. It spills from where the garment ties around her neck over the lines of her body as if it has no bias itself for any form or structure, only curving on its journey to her feet at the behest of where her breasts sloped down from her collarbones, the flare of her hips just below her waist. She’s the spitting image of perfection, a damn icon—the headlines are supposed to be about her—but there you are: tucked into the corner, in a sea of faces all justifiably mesmerized by the beauty that walked delicately onto the stage and adorably needed to adjust the microphone stand down to her height.

As It turns out, the absolute displeasure in your scowl isn’t any less captivating. Envious. Spiteful. Arrogant. You catch some serious flak for it.

For months, it ends up being the subject of commentary online, in print, on television—your names on the tips of everyone’s tongues. All with their own theories, but no one manages to guess the truth for a long time, because no one could even begin to believe it:

You hate Miyeon, and Miyeon hates you.

Oh, there are plenty of clues, if you aren’t already keenly aware of it, that your career is slowly sliding into obscurity. Years ago, walking into your agent's office was an event: eyes widened and turned to you immediately. The quiet smiles, the blushing, the batting of eyelashes. The pomp and circumstance of the agency’s biggest client strolling into Soyeon’s office like you were crossing the Rubicon into the streets of Rome. It was glorious and it always meant something big was about to happen.

To be clear, you’re not saying you need the attention, but today, no one even offers to take your coat, which is a shame, because it’s been raining biblically for the past week, and there’s puddles in your shoes, squeaking obnoxiously as you parade unceremoniously through a row of desks. Even so, sounding like a dog’s chew toy, it’s sheer and utter avoidance—eyes glued to monitors and unlifted from scribbled notes as though you’re simply another courier delivering a parcel (which hey, in all honesty, someone like that might even have some of that magical potential).

“Hold up. What do you mean they’re passing me up?” you ask, eyes narrowed and leaning forward in your seat so that the blatant abandonment of all your grace and charm doesn’t get lost in translation across the length of Soyeon’s desk. “That part had my fucking name on it.”

“It did.” Soyeon drums her pen against her keyboard. Comes close to making a face. “And now it has someone else’s name on it. Someone the studio trusts.”

“Oh, for christ’s sake, he’s twelve years older than me. The character is supposed to be thirty, not a dinosaur in a Kingsman suit.”

“It’s the silver fox thing. He markets easily to women.”

“And I don’t?” you stammer out, and Soyeon lifts an eyebrow. “Only a date night staple for almost a decade, Soyeon. Can you honestly sit there and say I wouldn’t play it better? The man plays nothing but himself in every role. Every. Single. Role.”

“Well, it just so happens that he brings people to the theater in droves,” Soyeon snaps back before you have the chance to say anything you could possibly regret. “Look, I told you I have good news and bad news, and it sounds like you’ve figured out the bad news already.”

“Oh please don’t tell me it’s charity.” You wave your hand flippantly. “We’re not doing this.”

Discount parts for struggling actors. If they were worth more than the paper in the scripts they were printed on, Soyeon would’ve been negotiating them this very moment.

There’s a lot about it to unpack, your fall from grace. You aren’t bringing in commissions, directors aren’t lining up in front of the firm to shove their scripts in front of your nose, and your last few films are better remembered for the comedic value of their scathing reviews than the actual screenplay or cinematography.

One such review of your most recent work, an ill-fated screen adaptation of Blood Meridian that had ‘studio interference’ written all over it right from its woeful inception, reads: I hated this movie. Hated hated hated hated hated this movie. Hated it. Hated every simpering stupid vacant audience-insulting moment of it. Hated the implied sensibility that thought anyone would like it. Hated the subliminal insult to the audience by its belief that anyone would be entertained by it.

There are plenty more just like it, and plenty worse, but it’s never done you any good, mentally, to sift through them.

“Really. I’m serious, these parts aren’t bad.”

Soyeon has enough confidence in her voice to sound convincing, but you’ve also never heard her come across any different. You catch yourself pausing to think about it, which is a clear tell that you’re perhaps nearing wit’s end, considering you’re not one to shy away from blurting out the first thought that forms half-coherent into your head.

“Now, they’re not what you’re looking for, admittedly, but I just think with a little luck, they could end up being a fortuitous move,” she adds.

“Go on, pitch,” you say, before sinking a little lower into your chair because even though it pains you to agree with her, she’s right.

“If you’ll dismount from your high horse for a moment,” Soyeon starts, waiting for you to finish rolling your eyes, “the Coens called again—”

“I’m not.”

“The part is interesting.”

“The part is small, it’s side-cast. Don’t sugarcoat it. I’m not taking one of their rescue-shelter-for-the-has-been supporting roles. That’s the equivalent of throwing in the towel.”

“It’s done wonders for careers in worse shape than yours, to be candid.”

“Careful,” you warn her, lifting your chin and glaring—a look you are definitely not known for—but if there’s anyone in the industry who could hold her own, deflect your best, and make you feel foolish for thinking you could cross swords and come out unscathed, it’s Jeon Soyeon.

“May I remind you that I’ve been nominated for best actor three times? That no one in their right mind predicted any of those movies to be any good? I’ve got talent. Let’s not sit around and pretend like I need to be put on life support here. I’m capable.”

Soyeon just steeples her fingers together. “I don’t need the reminder. I made that exact point in a call with a producer this morning, but it’s hard to get people to look past the fact that some of your recent choices have been—”

“If you’re going to say I told you so,” you grumble, letting out a sharp sigh, “let’s get it over with.”

She doesn’t say anything right away. Just pushes a folder across the desk and into your hands like she’s betraying national secrets to a foreign adversary. “Listen, don’t walk out in disgust. At least not right away.”

It takes only a moment. You recognize what’s going on here immediately. “Soyeon.”

“I know. I know. I know.” She waves her hand. “But hear me out, give it a chance.”

“It’s a rom-com, Soyeon.” “I’m plenty aware of what it is.” “I can see it already: smart, sophisticated, funny.” It takes a lot not to curl your lip. And then it fucking curls anyway. “I thought… I thought I had climbed out of the depths of romantic-comedy-hell, Soyeon. This is like suggesting that I get back into a relationship with an abuser.”

“I know, but this one actually is different,” she says, and you take a moment to remember you’ve always respected her honesty, paid her for it, and should’ve probably listened to it on more than one occasion. It’s the reason you’re here of all places.

“You’d kill the part,” she adds. “You spent years killing parts just like it. There’s no shame in that. And the director’s asked for you, specifically. By name. She’s willing to double your asking price.”

So maybe your eyes widen at that, even if it’s the absolute worst way to admit defeat, that you’re just as talentless as you’ve always feared: retreating back to the comfort of the role, all that expertise in acting with—no scratch that, acting at—some barely legal starlet ready to show a little skin to get ahead.

(That’s the nature of the game, and it’s your roots, unfortunately, but it’s safe, and if the money is there, then better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.) “Ah, yeah okay, well here’s the thing: they’ve already decided on the female lead.” You lean forward, like you’d have to listen to this next part in a whisper, because anything louder than that would make it too difficult to bear. “And?” Soyeon clicks her tongue, runs her thumb across her lips, thinking of how to soften the blow. “I mean she isn’t what you’d call an actress, exactly.” “What the hell does that mean, exactly?” “Cho Miyeon,” she starts, and you’re actually just sitting there, tasting at something in your mouth like it’ll help you make sense of it, if only for the reason that you’re not quite sure who that is. “She’s, uh, well, she’s a popstar, you see.” “Oh you’re not kidding.”

There’s a sincerity that lives somewhere in Soyeon’s lack of any expression at all, perfect poker-face armed and readied. You have to squint to really take it in. Heavens.

Exactly how much Soyeon actually knew about this girl, you’ll never know. She claimed first that they met through a mutual friend who does publicity work for another studio, and on a separate occasion saying that they went to school together, determinedly avoiding anything like names or corroborating details. Of course you believed her, because how were you supposed to know any different?

“Wait, you mean like actual royalty?” you ask a few days later, after Soyeon explains Miyeon’s nickname to you, because in this industry, it’s really not that ridiculous a question.

“It’s just a running gag,” she says casually, and you both watch the waiter wordlessly grate pepper into her salad until Soyeon puts a hand up.

“So,” you continue, incredulous, “it’s supposed to be funny?”

“Look, it’s a whole thing.” Soyeon picks up her fork, but doesn’t quite end up doing anything with it. “I promise she’s only half the disaster you think she is.”

“Then do me a favor: kick my shin when I’m supposed to laugh.”

“Do yourself a favor, and try to be a little amiable.”

“You say that like I don’t know how to be charming,” you deadpan, sipping at your coffee while Soyeon’s glare stands its ground.

It’s nothing official, but Soyeon had organized a script reading. The Director is off in some foreign land scouting for the perfect beach with perfectly white sand on an island that already has enough problems, and tells you in three separate text messages to just read the fucking script. You’re groaning, rolling your eyes, and then, curled up next to the fireplace in your readers at three in the morning, it hits you—like really hits you. And you’re shocked, mostly, that there's brilliance in these pages. It’s not the kind of flick you expected, the kind that has journalists at the Atlantic, real writers with academic chops and know-how, publishing articles with titles like: Why Are Romantic Comedies So Bad?

Which, hey, isn’t that a great question. There are a couple of answers, you imagine. You haven’t read the piece of course; you’re the last person that would ever need to. But perhaps among the most fundamental obligations for the genre is that there must be some degree of obstacle, a challenge to nuptial bliss that the hero and heroine must overcome, all before the story’s happily-ever-after. And, to put it simply, such obstacles have only gotten harder and harder to come by. They used to lie in heaps and piles on the ground, ripe for the picking: parental disapproval, difference in social class, unfulfilled promises, the classic and creatively bankrupt friendship-blossoming-into-romance. Nowadays there’s quite literally nothing new under the sun.

So take that all into account, and then add in the fact that you’ve got your hands on something innovative and creative and tasteful—it’s insulting, absurd even, that you’d hamstring the movie by shooting one of the leads out of a cannon and into the hands of a novice who may or may not be able to act her way out of a paper bag. The part calls for subtlety, not the ham-handedness and dramatic stylings of a girl whose experience with the camera extends to knowing when and when not to wink.

Only here’s the thing, it’s not absurd. Like at all. Because enter Cho Miyeon.

She appears in profile first, before pulling a chair out from the table and taking a seat all with the confidence of someone who’d probably be welcome at any table, anytime, anywhere. And almost immediately, you’ve got the answer to those hundred different questions of why. Why a rookie? Why a pop idol? Why ‘princess?’

Well, see, on a basic level, she’s fucking breathtaking.

The devil’s in the details if you aren’t disarmed completely at a glance. Dignified, regal, royal, this girl has it all, and then some. Her hair frames her face as though it were in any need of succor, perfectly messed and ash-blonde and tumbling effortless down her shoulders. She flutters her lashes; her lips part, close again in a way that is oddly captivating; and she gets a tilt in her chin that’s worth a thousand words (most of them admittedly, jesus, fuck, and my god). It’s like she not only understands every cliche in the book—but she’s gone out of her way to make them hers. “Miyeon,” she says, voice gentle and saccharine sweet, extending her hand towards you.

It dawns on you that there’s a certain authority that comes about from saying your own name, even when you know no one has ever needed it—contrast to the way her hand fits in yours, dainty fingers, wrist flawlessly delicate; she’s five-two, arguably five-three in her socks and you’re the one who could crush her. Even so, it’s your mouth that runs dry. You’re catching your breath, and you have to clear your throat to even return the favor.

“I’m a huge fan of your work,” she adds.

“Oh,” you start, shifting gears, getting ready to lie straight through your teeth, “me as well.” It’s shamelessly performative. And Soyeon knows that. The wince she struggles to hold back from across the table is hard not to notice.

But then so is Miyeon, your eyes trailing down her body like a palpable touch over every curve.

Black mini skirt, pre-torn sheer tights, a pair of knee-high combat boots with a hell of a heel on them, and you’re just realizing you can see how perfectly flat her tummy is, peeking out beneath where the hem of her shirt decides to taper for the betterment of mankind. Ah, you get it, so apparently idols really do dress like that—anything and everything to tell you, keep your eyes on me now.

The feet of your chair scrape loud on the floor as you stand on your feet. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Alright,” Soyeon tuts as she stabs at her salad, “let’s dial it back.”

It takes two tries to meet her eyes properly, these beautifully dark and dangerous things, but Miyeon just blinks at you, quirks her lips gently into a small smile. And you smile right back, just a little, because maybe this isn’t going to be so bad after all.

It isn’t anything like the romance Miyeon will later make it out to be.

Even though sure, you’re both there laughing, blushing and coy—all of it enough to make the characters in the script look even-keeled, something a little more sane. “Please, it’s called chemistry,” you begin crafting excuses toward your agent when Miyeon takes a phone call on the terrace. “I have it with everyone.” And maybe that’s true. Maybe it isn’t. But be careful, there’s nothing noble about what’s going on here.

“Sorry,” Miyeon apologizes, like she’d ever need to, pulling her chair right up next to yours. “Where were we?”

Just the part where the characters realize everything they’ve ever been looking for is right there in front of them. You spit the pen cap out of your mouth to answer: “the epiphany.”

For what it’s worth, the actual work to be done goes smoother than you expect. Sure, the initial delivery is rough around the edges and in need of a little tender love and care, but that’s far more than what you’d been prepared to give Miyeon credit for.

Not too long after, Miyeon suggests splitting a bottle of wine, something light and sparkling. It goes down easy.

Soyeon figures it’s time to fabricate some way to gracefully exit this whole thing, fingers tapping wildly at her phone, when you and Miyeon start touching each other. It’s subtle at first: she leans over your shoulder when you point something out in the script, pulls back a curtain of blonde hair right back over her ear before brushing up against you, lingers just long enough so that she can flick her eyes up to yours—doesn’t even care to look away whenever you catch her staring. And that’s just what can be seen above the table.

With a coat tucked under her armpit and her belongings all hastily gathered, Soyeon turns her face back over her shoulder one last time; she’s glaring, opening her mouth to say something but decides against it at the last moment. You get the message: don’t sleep with her.

You simply wave her off. Hide your own disappointment that she thinks you’d even need the reminder, because you would never.

“I guess I'm really looking forward to it,” Miyeon says, once the sun’s finished its daily dive into the horizon—once there’s only a mess of papers and empty wine glasses trailing in your wake.

(The restaurant’s in the middle of whipping itself into shape before a slew of dinner reservations come through. It feels rude to camp out at a table any longer.)

Miyeon turns to you, standing with a hand on her hip like the two of you are neighbors who share a mailbox, and says, “think it could be fun.”

Oh, surely you’ve done a better job at masking a grin. Miyeon picks up on it instantly.

“I’m serious,” she adds, letting the timbre of her voice shift into this juxtaposition of suggestion and naivety that has you doing a double take, mentally. Because the lines in her picture perfect face are so very easy to latch onto—even if you’ve never seen anyone as perfectly sculpted as her, you can’t shake the feeling that all humans ought to come out looking like this—but at the same time, there’s something that lies beneath the surface, something undoubtedly complex, something that quietly chides you for having such untoward thoughts of a subject so innocent and docile.

“I’m not trying to take the air out of your sails or anything,” you say as you guide her through the door, hand pressing at the small of her back, “but these shoots can end up being a lot less enjoyable than they look.” “Of course,” Miyeon says, laughing, because here she is, the rookie, and it’s all very natural for her to appeal to some innate desire in you to come off as the authority on anything—film, stardom, the lack thereof, navigating life as a young pretty thing, the authority you’d discover in bending her over your kitchen counters—to some extent, she has you at least a little figured out. “What I mean is I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You watch her smile slant, shift quietly towards something more suggestive when you slip your coat around her shoulders—it’s a foregone conclusion, not that either of you are willing to look it straight in the face.

What you should have done is grabbed your phone and called her a car; there’s thousands of them in this city. What you should've done is driven home, alone. That’s all it should have been. Just some starlet you charmed for an evening to get your career back in order. Nothing more, nothing more. And instead of getting her for a few months plus change, you get her for life. This should’ve been extra clear when she leaned up against the passenger side door of your car, and found a new angle, something she’d only to that point allow to muse about your idle thoughts:

“And here I was, thinking you were just someone playing a part. Only ever a romantic for the camera.”

You can’t even say it all happens so fast.

Not when you take in consideration how you watch Miyeon delicately, slowly, purposefully grab a fistful of your shirt, balling it between her fingers, and begin to twist. This is probably where you’ll start, you think, when you explain it all in a tell-all book long past the age of your youth. Because, oh, what a pleasant surprise. She’s perfect. Flawless. A natural. You can’t keep your eyes away from her, and she’d have it no other way.

“Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?” you ask, if only to resist the urge to pull her in.

“Well, I suppose I’ve got a few ideas,” she says, and there’s a glimmer at the surface of her eyes, dark and intelligent and flashing with something like danger, something like the worst decision you’ve made in years. And that’s saying a lot. “But I’d like to think you can show me.”

You give her a practiced smile, stretching just right, careful, careless, carefree. Trust me, that smile says. It’s a scene from a movie, one of many. It’s familiar. You’ve been here, with weapons in a caliber all of your own, and Miyeon’s cheeks start to ever-so-perfectly redden, porcelain skin come aflame.

“You know,” you say, making your voice drawl until Miyeon shuffles her weight between her feet, “if it was up to the writers, I’d kiss you here.”

“If it was up to me,” Miyeon starts, chin up at you like a challenge, “I’d let you.”

The way Miyeon explains it later is that you duck your head and hold your lips next to hers just long enough to let your next breath make her swoon, all before interrupting her with a hungry exhale and an open mouth pressing into hers. A hard, biting kiss that sends shivers down her spine. That you angle your mouths just right so your tongues can slip together, so you might sweep this girl right off her feet and into your arms—if Miyeon has a face that has fantasy written all over it, then so do you, and she says you ought to know what it does it to people. She’ll be half right.

Only when you lean into her and start filing away those mental notes of how perfect her tiny waist fits in your hands, you pause at the sound of a cricket chirping, a reminder of the neighborhood around you.

“Not out here,” you murmur, casting a wary eye over her shoulder. “Let me take you home.”

Miyeon sniffles, blinks a few times, and nods.

Really, it starts with you. A month before you begin shooting, you suffer from a little insanity of your own. Miyeon’s got the second boot only halfway off her foot, lit up in the soft darkness of your foyer, when you take hold of her.

It’s not like you figured this was your last chance for happiness—swallowing down the gasp that comes off Miyeon’s lips like it were your only shot at tasting heaven—but that’s exactly how you kiss her. Mouth open and hot and heavy against hers. It’s hard to explain, and it doesn’t quite add up; you’ve got your Furies, your own personal pantheon, the girls you’ve most dreamed about and had running through your thoughts—who’d eventually find their way between your sheets in some manner or another, melting in your hands. But somehow, Miyeon’s different, you convince yourself. Or she does rather, starting with her tongue sliding languidly against yours before she decides to bite down on the swell of your lower lip. It hurts.

She knows it hurts.

“Watch it,” you say, coming off kind of harsh, before you can realize what all is going on here. Before you come to the understanding that she’s untouchable, priceless, that you can’t afford to break her—and that it’s precisely what she wants out of you.

“What?” she asks, the corners of her mouth slanted up ever so slightly. “You’ve got nice lips.”

How you’ll ever be able to forget someone like her, you haven’t a single clue, because Miyeon uncovers and undresses you down right to the bare soul. Your mouths crash again, just enough subdued to keep your teeth from clicking together like you’ve never done this before—like you’re reading her, getting lost in a new paradox: the intrigue of her tongue caressing yours, the familiarity of her thumb rubbing circles into your back. There’s the Miyeon that was cracking wise and sipping wine with you an hour ago, and now there’s this.

“So, how are we doing this?” she asks, breaths wet and heavy as she fidgets with the button on your pants. “How do you want me?” “Well.” You’re sliding a hand up her stomach, across her ribs, until you hit the silky fabric beneath her shirt. “I’m not sure I know what you’re asking here.” “Don’t play dumb.” Miyeon looks you straight in the eye, and she’s close enough that you can count the flecks of gold dancing in her irises. Brows furrowed for a second, she ends up indulging you anyway: “I’m asking how you want to fuck me?”

Every turn in her voice sinks deeper, reels you in further, coaxes you into shoving her to the wall between the door and a coat rack. The way she yelps first in surprise as her back hits the hard surface, whimpering later in delight at the grip your hands make onto her hips, it gives you the sense that she’s flustered, unable to come off as anything beyond embarrassingly forward and drowning in anticipation—

“Miyeon,” you say, slowly, getting a good read on just how much she likes hearing you say her name. That it’ll kill her, you figure, when you’re fucking her with slow, deep, deliberate strokes—once she’s inches within cumming and falling apart and it’s arriving right in her ear. “What do you think?” That lands even more pointed somehow. More dangerous than you could have ever predicted, the charm and practiced charisma in your voice coming out in lethal force: “Maybe, oh let’s see… should I fuck you right here?”

Miyeon starts with her fingertips across your scalp before threading them through your hair. “Well,” she says, teasing the callback, drawing the syllable out as though running it conceptually through her head. “If that isn’t a spectacular idea, I don’t know what is.”

“Yeah,” you murmur into the delicate skin under her jaw, and after lifting off her shirt and tossing it aside, she kisses you with a consuming, needy kind of hunger one more time. Until you’re both just out of breath. “I think so too.” Miyeon dips her fingers into the waist of your pants before anything else. Function of the fact that men’s clothing is so straightforward and predictable, she’s able to shimmy them down off your hips until they hang unceremoniously around your thighs. “Um,” she says, sinking her teeth into her lip a moment, right after curling her fingers around your cock, “you’re like, really hard, you know that?”

“I was going to mention it earlier. You’re kinda my type.”

She leans into you, sighing a little into your neck. “Which is?”

“Oh, you know,” you say nonchalantly. “Pretty. Small. Ruinable. That sort of thing.”

“Right.” With a jerk of her wrist, Miyeon brings your cockhead flush against her stomach—pumps you there leisurely. “Wouldn’t want Soyeon thinking you were planning on ruining me.”

“Quick learner,” you murmur, bunching her skirt up over the rise of her hips.

“Well, we’re really not so different, you and me.”

“Hm.” She doesn’t know what she’s saying—you’re you—storied, seasoned, and only heeding right now to the wail of torn fabric. There’s a hole in her tights already, and your fingers work fast. Rip, tear, threads screeching undone. “I’m curious to hear what all gives you that impression.”

“The way I see it, we both know what we want,” she says, unashamed, and the sound that escapes her mouth sounds a lot like a hiccup, some little hopeful noise or another, swallowing for air at the touches skating across her underwear, where it’s soaked and hot and begging. “Suppose that’s true.” “Not afraid to go for it either.” She tightens her grip around your cock, squeezing like she’s waiting for you to tell her to stop and running her thumb across your slit. “Won’t settle for anything less than you—”

“A word of advice,” you start, and the authority in your voice makes her melt just a little further in your grip. “From someone who’s not so different… A little flexibility goes a long way, sweetheart.”

“Oh.” It’s smug, the way she says it. Her eyes are heavy, hooded—honing the perfect hue of haughty as she drags her panties to the side. “I’m nothing if not a little flexible.” You bend from your knees, because Miyeon is tiny where she stands, up against drywall with her dainty arms thrown over your shoulders. And in a way, she’s right: you see the parallels, cut from the same cloth, the two strained noises or another buzzing in your throat indistinguishable when you hook your hand around her thigh, raise it, and barely slide yourself inside her, just an inch.

Miyeon’s mouth opens like she’s going to speak, and then hovers there, brows turning and knitting together—something you more than understand, because you’re on the verge of losing your mind too. She’s wet and slick with heat and so fucking inviting that you think the world might end if you don’t bury yourself into her this very second. Not that there isn’t near commensurate satisfaction in drawing out the moment, you fast discover, teasing mercilessly until you can hear Miyeon’s frustration. Her eyes shut tight, and her breath becomes ragged as you allow her another inch—almost keening when you pull back before pushing your cock into her cunt again, fucking her open slowly.

It’s only when you hear her beg please, please, please that you sink all the way in.

And she feels amazing. Tight and hot and clinging, she sleeves onto you like a glove. Immaculate enough to chip away at your positions regarding fate, the ridiculous notion that under the stars there was a girl out there for you, that you’re in orbit with some inevitable conclusion and her name is fucking Cho Miyeon. So outright sinful that you still need a beat to come to terms with it, and you make an effort to voice that: “Fucking hell, Miyeon.”

She lets out a whiny, punched out breath, tilting her chin to the ceiling and revealing the long column of her throat to you like an invitation, though you press your lips to her temple first, the taste of her skin and the sweat aside her brow like wine—sweet and woozy and intoxicating. There’s the rise and fall of her breathing against your chest, your fingers spread out across her creamy skin, and a sudden jerk from her hips, as if to bring you back to the present.

“Oh my god,” Miyeon gasps as your hips are drawn back again.

Only this time you’ve got the soft cheek of her ass spilling through your fingers. Waning self-control. Even less reservation about pulling her right back onto your cock. And though you’re mostly silent each time you work your entire length back into her, Miyeon is anything but—all these appreciative noises coming from low in her throat.

It might be the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed: the way she darts her tongue out to wet her lips, how her breath hitches when you move, each and every sound she makes as you fuck wildly into her cunt—slamming in, in, in, and you can hear her begin to whimper, feel her caressing the curve of your ass with her… ankle? She tugs on you, grips you, and does whatever she can to keep you deep inside her. As though you’d ever, ever stop.

“I can’t,” Miyeon starts, and it’s nearly comedic—you’d be in fits if you weren’t delicately unraveling this girl in your hands, taking her apart piece by piece, blow by blow. The poise in her voice is gone; what’s left is shattered, unrecognizable mostly. Even those dignified lines in her face start to twist and wobble, threaten to come undone. “Please, I need… oh, please make me cum. I need to cum on your cock.” “Breathe,” you tell her, feeling her slip a little against the wall, puddling further in your grip. It surprises you, the way your words come out like the crush of gravel beneath a boot, and it grips at something within Miyeon too, clues her in on how much she needs you—sucking air in through her teeth and sinking her face into your shoulder. The lines that mark where you end and Miyeon start are quickly eroding, boundary become meaningless. “I know you want to cum, but I need you to breathe for me, Miyeon.”

Her palms are damp with sweat, wrung around the back of your neck, hair sticking to her forehead and darkening in a beam of pale moonlight, not to mention what you hear: harder, faster, more—the needy requests make it sound like she’s almost sobbing.

“I promise, I promise,” you whisper into her mouth, “I’ll do anything for you. But first, I’m going to use this tight little cunt—gonna make a mess of you.”

Your fingers dig into her soft skin, tighter, tighter; you’ll leave bruises, marks, fingerprints, all this damage she’ll trace back to you—evidence that’ll queue memories like a roll of film, bring her right back to how you have her mewling and moaning at the end of your cock, tears welling on her lashes and mascara running dark beneath her eyes.

“Fuck,” slips out of her, nearly pouting like it’s your fault, that she’d never curse in front of anyone and here she is, teeth gritted—because, god, she’s all coiled muscle, tightened around your cock and meltdown imminent—you get your fingers under her chin and tilt her head to you.

“Gonna make you beg, Miyeon.”

“I… fuck…” Her voice gets locked up in her throat, choking back on something that turns into a wail when you adjust your angle, hit deeper, fuck harder—“I can’t,” she whispers, “I can’t,” but you keep fucking into her tight hole, nowhere close to letting up.

There’s just something so fascinating about a girl like this, a girl like Miyeon, with a gaze that inspires all this admiration and idolatry. It ought to pierce right through somebody like you and leave you for dead, bring you to your knees, but you’re nothing like she expected; you’re everything she hoped. So instead, as you watch her gasping mouth that was coyly smiling in your favor all afternoon; her small tits spilling forward when you lift up her bra; how she’s slumped back against the wall, relaxed and trusting you implicitly to carry her weight for as long as it takes; the shadowy place where your cock is drenched, glistening and disappearing between her thighs—oh, Jesus, is that a visual—it all clicks in your head: Miyeon is so, so astonishingly submissive.

Whether it’s the fingers at her throat, or the grip hooking under her thigh, the one thing that’s clear is this: you’re using Miyeon. Fucking her within inches of irrevocably falling apart. You, the hammer; her, the nail—pounding her further into the drywall until she’s quivering and moaning and gasping into your mouth. Oh, the places you’ll pin her. You’re relentless, merciless; it’s the fact that she gets off on it that’ll stick with you. For a long time.

“Gonna make you beg for it, princess,” you amend, lips now pressing into Miyeon’s ear, and she immediately shudders apart.

It’s filthy is the thing: you’re railing the girl with deep, harsh strokes, and Miyeon’s pussy is writhing in both protest and penury. She’s so creamed you can hear it through all the sounds of skin on skin, the percussive soundtrack of your thighs slamming up into hers. Each squelch, the wet sinful sound of it—it’s how you know your cock is making a total mess of her wrecked cunt. More and more each time it fills her and brings her that much closer to toe-curling-climax.

Let me, she breathes against you, barely held together. The hand you have under her asscheek is doing most of the heavy lifting. “Please let me cum, please, please, please let me fucking cum all over this cock, I need to cum on this perfect cock, oh my god—”

When Miyeon finally turns up at you, she’s biting down on her bottom lip again. Her head tilts a bit, something deep and pleading in those big, brown eyes, and it almost, almost makes you feel guilty. Nearly ashamed that this delicate little thing had fallen into your lap and your knee-jerk reaction was to fuck her so hard she started to wail, cracking at the seams.

“Your cock,” she blurts out, breath jagged and uneven, “is amazing. You are—”

Like you said, almost.

“—amazing.”

There’s nothing you can say to that, is there?

“Again… want to… again…” she demands of you, like she’s in any position to be making any. Her hands are all over you, finally undressing you, and all things considered, you don’t have the heart to tell her no. You’re hoping that never becomes a problem.

Miyeon scoops up easily enough into your arms after her orgasm had knocked the architecture right out of her legs, wobbling against the wall and almost sliding to the floor. And It all plays out again, just minutes later, after you set her on a barstool in your kitchen and slip back inside her. Sure, it’s a different setting, but you recognize it for what it is: the same story, with the same characters and the same ending, the one where you’ve got your cock fucking hard and fast into her cunt.

“Fucking, oh my god…” she rasps, just a waving white flag short of total surrender. “You’re going to make me fucking cum again. Yes, yes, yes—”

Until everything seemingly comes undone at once. And it quickly turns into stuttering cries of please and fuck and need it and all sorts of things you’ll have to promise you never heard, filth unfitting for a perfect mouth like Miyeon’s—the one now curving into that unforgettable shape while she chokes back on moans and mewls. It hits her like a brick, and her head rolls back as she groans, furrowing her brows and screwing her eyes shut.

You tell yourself it’s the fact that she’s so sweet, so docile, and all at the flick of a switch. Just moments after you’ve bottomed out in her pussy—after you’ve sent her higher and higher to where she’s reduced to nothing like the royalty everyone expects of her: needy, begging.

It’s whiplash really, from callous and cruel to caring and soft in a matter of seconds. Your foreheads come together while you catch your breath. That’s an image all in itself. And when she laughs slightly, there are the quiet tremors, the spasms of her diaphragm clenching around you. It’s hard to tell what’s going through her head, before she covers the exhausted huffs out of your mouth with a kiss that lives in the gray area between sweet and harsh and consuming. Fuck. You’d stay here forever.

(Forever ends up being a hell of a lot shorter than you expect. Because Miyeon takes to cumming on your cock like water takes to paper.)

“Wanna ride,” she tells you, breath having caught up to her and wiping sweat from her brow—something like an inciting incident, taking the two of you all the way to the living room.

She doesn’t outright tell you that she wants you to just hold her down and fucking use her, but she doesn’t last long on top of you either, leaning back from your lap with her hands hooked around your neck and dragging you forward, until you’re once again spilling over her, pounding her hot, sopping cunt like she needs.

You’re cautious, usually—responsible. It isn’t like you, really. The excuse you’ll settle into later is that Miyeon’s cunt is impossibly vice-tight when you make her cum a third time. She’s in the midst of being swallowed up in the cushions of your sofa, the soles of her cute little feet pointed skyward, knees folded to her shoulders and pressed under your weight while you make sure she’s well fucked through the apex of it all.

“Good girl,” you tell her—the praise cutting straight to her final lifelines, tearing them to ribbons and leaving them for dead—and you’re shifting the angle, the depth to try and get her to scream the exact same way she did the first time. “Go ahead Miyeon—cum for me, princess. You’re going to fucking cum all over this cock again.”

And she does. Hard.

Quivering. Squirming even, she comes apart, fucked deep and hard into the springs of a chaise lounge and leaving stains on leather that won’t ever quite go away. Though it doesn’t manage to arrive with anything like an announcement, as it had before, heralded by curses and the elegant simplicity of meekly choking out the word cumming through a fit of gasps and hiccups. Her voice now is so fragmented, so utterly debauched and ruined, that she only manages to husk out a pathetic whine.

“So fucking pretty, Miyeon,” you rasp, watching the blush sear right across her nose, “so gorgeous when you cum for me. And god, this fucking pussy…”

The hands on the clock spin out, numbers running forward and back, and you’re long past the point of temperance. Each stroke in and out of Miyeon’s tight, throbbing, well-fucked cunt twists further at the knot in your stomach, the edge of your own, eager to indulge your fair share of recklessness: “Miyeon, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum.”

Miyeon understands immediately. She’s whimpering, nodding, sinking her fingers into your back—it’s not even a question. “Inside me,” she repeats, several times, until you’re hilted completely in her pussy. It’s hot, sweltering, perfect, and you can’t bring yourself to care that you’re pressing a handprint into her thigh so hard that it hurts. That the sounds leaking out of your throat aren’t anything particularly becoming or that you’re fucking your cum deeper into her cunt with each waning thrust or that you’re not sure if you ever had a better fuck.

“Fuck,” you groan, slumping on top of her petite frame once you’re completely finished. So thoroughly milked and drained.

Miyeon brings her small hands up and cups your face. Just stares like you’ve got something stuck to it. Her gaze drops to your lips—and you’re left thinking for a moment that she’s going to kiss you again, though it never does arrive.

“Hey,” you say finally, panting. Both of you are heaving restless. Everytime her chest rises into you, you’re acutely aware of how her small breasts feel against you, her heart still racing as your softening cock is still warm inside her. “You’re staring.”

“Well, I was going to mention it earlier,” she starts, fluttering her lashes and pressing her lips to the crook of your neck, “but you’re kinda my type too.”

The least unusual thing happens.

And if you end up thinking for even a moment that Miyeon is being sincere when she suggests you exchange numbers, you haven’t been paying attention. “You know,” she says, sitting in your lap and tapping her number into your phone, “for work.”

“Ah, of course,” you answer, willing to be fooled, if only just a little, “for work.”

- Narratively, it’s all out of order: the banal text messages, the playful back and forth, the coy innuendos, the precarious game of being interested without asking too many questions. Both of you are quite content to play your cards close to your chest as though she doesn't know how good your fingers feel in her cunt or that you’re somehow not aware of the small freckle on the seam of her pelvis, another on the inside of her left thigh. That’s just how it goes. But it’s fine, you figure. Especially when you compare it to the alternative: of taking things too fast and careening straight off a cliff. To where, historically, you've burned up in a violent supernova of messy hookups and drunk calls and regrets you’ll carry with you into the next life.

A nice change of pace, if nothing else.And it’s hardly anything unusual either, or at least until you’re standing in the grocery checkout line a few days later. Miyeon decides enough with all that about the rules of engagement. She’s going to call you:

“I was planning on swinging by in a bit to grab my watch,” she starts, and you can make out another voice, maybe a friend? A roommate? in the background of the call, getting shh’d by Miyeon before she continues, “I left it in your bathroom. I think. Maybe on the bedside table.”

“Yeah, I was going back and forth on deciding whether that was purposeful or not.” “Accidental. I swear.”

“Still a little convenient though, isn’t it?” “Nothing convenient about not having my watch.” She laughs out loud. Maybe it’s a bit of vanity on your part to make assumptions, but you’ve got her pieced together, at least a little. Everyone else already reveres and adores her—it’s the fact that you’ll level with her, that she loves a proper challenge.

“Well, I won’t be back for quite a bit. I’m running a few errands.” You smile at the lady at the register. She’s halfway into figuring out who you are.

“Why don’t you do me a favor then… bring it with you to the press event on Friday?”

“Now that’s a surprise,” you tell her. “I’d figure you’d take the chance at face value, to get yourself back over to my place either way.”

“Look, if you’re going to make me need an excuse to sleep with you… let’s put our heads together and come up with something later.”

Oh, of course. Let’s, she says, really leaning into the plurality of it, hoping it’s something you can get used to. And given the fact you figure that Cho Miyeon has never been hard pressed to be anyone’s favorite anything, she is incredibly optimistic you’ll see just how sweet of a deal that all is. You’re answering the woman behind the register first: “paper bags are fine.”

“Are you at the grocery?”

“I am.”

“Sounds fun.” she says, after a considerable pause—the length of which tells you she’d rather dip into the mundane with you than hang up. “What’d you get?” “Breakfast cereal, bananas,” you tell her, staring straight into the conversational deadend. If only you knew any writers. You clear your throat, but Miyeon beats you to it, pulling the emergency ripcord: “What would you do if I was there with you?”

“Dunno,” you start, “take you to the bathroom maybe. Go down on you until you cum.”

At this point the cashier has put it all together. She recognizes you, and is unsure whether to be shocked or disgusted or what, so she just hands you your receipt as you shoot your near-award-winning smile back at her and gather your things.

Miyeon laughs. “Has anyone ever told you you’re horrendous at phone sex?”

“I’ve never had phone sex,” you tell her, “seems like a waste of time when you could be instead, you know–”

“Okay,” she interrupts you, “first off, it’s like the first rule in the geneva convention of phone sex: you’re supposed to ask me what I’m wearing. And just for your information, I’m wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt.”

“What color?”

“Yikes. So bad at this; you’re supposed to tell me to start taking it off. It’s a gray shirt, the pants are blue. What are you wearing?”

“A pair of khakis. And a sweater.” “Great. Take them off, slowly.” “Miyeon, I’m in the middle of a parking lot.”

“Okay prude, then you tell me what to do.”

You end up listening to Miyeon from the front seat of your car for almost half the hour. There’s a wistful hum from the other end of the phone every time you tell her what to do with her hand, walk her through every area of her body you want her to touch and how. You let her know about the finger you’re tracing over your own pants and she can’t help but let a soft noise out at the thought of it.

“If you invited me over for dinner right now,” she says after she cums, slightly out of breath, “I wouldn’t say no.”

You stifle a laugh. It’s folklore at this point, but there’s wisdom in it surely, so you’ll lean into that old rite of passage and play hard to get. Love is all about the complications, all the ways it can go wrong: endless rules and customs to observe, obstacles you’re determined to put in the way.

“Oh princess,” you start, knowing exactly how it’ll land in her ear, what it’ll do to her. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

The press event itself is simple and straightforward. There’s only ever going to be a singular moment during a movie’s production where no one in the cast wants to murder someone else and it’s in that brief period of time before filming starts. So grab onto that by the horns and show the media what a fun time this is all going to be. Go team, go.

It’s the same series of questions as always: how did this cast come together, what do you think of the scripts, how is this going to be a challenge for you, what are you looking forward to, etc.

You’ve been through this song and dance enough times now to keep your answers evasive and beguiling, because at the end of the day, it’s the most productive way to do anything in this industry. It’s routine. It’s practiced. But the thing you notice almost right away, is just how infatuated the press is with the girl at the end of the table, how they heel almost immediately to her every gesture, the way Miyeon answers questions all with the confidence of someone’s who’s been at it for ages, but with the doe-eyed blinking naivety of a starlet ready to bare it all. You have to consider that part of the reason the media ends up so hot on Miyeon’s trail is all that god-given wit and charisma and charm. She’ll make fun of herself and her group mates and her co-stars and the staff, and she’ll tease the press and give them shit in a way that makes you feel as though there’s this cool, gorgeous, very important girl who’s noticing you and liking you enough to give you shit. Then sometimes she’ll wink for no reason at all, or she’ll get that flip of her hair over her shoulder just right that you think to yourself: wow, that’s an idol.

It doesn't mean a whole lot to you now, though you’ll be wringing your wrists about it later, but the takeaway here is this: Miyeon is universally loved. Full stop.

Please root for me, she says, again and again. All the stuff she’s supposed to say. I’ll do my best to make everyone happy. And she looks down the table, right at you, when she says: “My co-stars are all so wonderful and I’m so lucky to have them here with me, I’ll go ahead and thank them in advance for taking such good care of me.”

The press release is worth nothing to anyone with only the opinions of a bunch of attractive people paid to be on television. What it needs is photos. Specifically the ones where Miyeon hangs off your arm like you two are just a little bit more than meets the eye.

Sex sells. Suggestion is priceless.

So you’re standing there, grinning, wide and open, practiced and sure, toward the army of photographers. You look good. You know you look good. You’d know you look good even if Soyeon hadn’t crossed paths with you behind the stage just a few minutes ago and said, “wow, you look hot,” and “if I was any bit straight, I’d bang you right here.” Though it definitely helped. The exact shade of charcoal on your suit jacket is engineered to make your skin glow, and your hair is coiffed just right so that it sits effortless. You didn’t grow up imagining you’d have hairdressers or a stylist or for god sakes ever be wearing tailor-fit suits that cost someone else a fortune, but that’s how this all works. A rag-tag militia dedicated to making it look both like you’d just rolled out of bed and that’s only how things were ever meant to be—it’s your whole deal, all with the comprehensive appeal of a mischievous smile. The first flash, and you can feel your whole soul dilate in response. Hey! Look over here for me. Click. Click. Click. Raise your chin—hands at your sides—hold that for me—perfect. Click. Click. Click. It’s calming in a way. All the piercing lights, the clattering of camera shutters. The feeling that never grows stale is seeped in the familiarity of it all; your roots are here. It’s home. And there’s something unique about the blur of lights, something hard to put your finger on exactly, that it feels like the perfect backdrop to just zone out in. And the fact that you can’t really hear those anxious, gnawing thoughts in your head over all the shouting, the chattering, the commotion—boy, that feels good too. Though what you can hear is all the cameras turn, in unison. Something like a premonition.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen Cho Miyeon. You know how she looks in and out of her underwear, the way her blonde hair sits on her porcelain shoulders, how she’s all curves and pointed angles in the right places; you’ve seen her up close. Hell, she’d already taken your breath away, which in some regards is completely unfair, now considering that you haven’t any more breath to give.

She doesn’t care; she’ll leave you asphyxiated, with a smile. Perfectly. It makes it feel like every smile you’ve seen before are just failed attempts. Like this is the real deal. Click. Click. Click.

The thing that has you lost for words is that it’s hard to know where exactly to start. Not only is Miyeon drop dead gorgeous, but here she is, pretending that she’s finding all that out for the very first time, blush burning across her cheeks like she’s not used to the attention. Her hair is pinned up, delicately placed into a perfect bun, wispy blonde strands falling aside her ears. And a pair of long, dangling earrings reflect the camera flashes aimed in her direction, scattering the light in every which way. Then it’s the fucking dress: it’s skintight, champagne, which is a good color on anyone, spectacular on her. You can’t let your eyes dip down all the way through the plunging neckline or you’d be staring at her midriff and thinking just how badly you want to undo the whole thing; pull gently on the tie at the back and let it all slump to the floor; get on top of her and have her cursing. Make her hot and flustered and moaning your name until you shoot a hot load all over that fucking tummy. Jesus. Fuck.

“Hey stranger,” she says, with restrained delivery, still smiling at the wall of flashing lights as she hooks her hand under your elbow.

“You’re late.” Maybe—just maybe—if you can somehow manage to find anything to be at fault, you can keep your thoughts as innocent as her doe-eyed countenance. She tilts her head, pulls back her soft, sweeping hair over one shoulder, and when she gets her eyes on you… god, it’s a tall order.

“Do you have any idea?” she asks, starting in half sentences because there’s not a lot of time between poses. Everyone’s looking at her, looking at the combined-unit, the you-and-her, and demanding more. “Just how hard it is to slip into something like this? I swear to god, I think I’m still holding that first breath.”

“Hey,” you whisper, clasping your fingers together. “You look great.”

“Of course I do.” Her other hand is at your waist, gentle and misleading, much like the rest of her. “Just about any girl would look good next to you.”

Falling is just not the correct term, to be precise. Too clumsy. Hardly does what’s going on here any justice. This is a meticulous process wherein Miyeon delicately binds and traps your heart into love—maybe even the platonic ideal of the femme fatale, and you’ll take twenty, thirty paces into quicksand before you realize you’re trapped, waist deep, unable to move, totally and proper fucked.

“Here,” she says, tugging gently on your arm until you’re hunched over slightly, ear sitting perfectly at her lips where they begin to part, whispering: “This will drive them crazy. Just this little private conversation. They’ll be guessing what I’m telling you here, right now, for weeks.”

You laugh as you watch everyone with a camera scoot to the edge of their seats, expecting something unexpected. On the off chance they’ll get lucky and catch the shape of that murmur out your mouth: “And what exactly is it that you’re telling me here?” “I’m curious,” she starts, “how bad do you think I want you right now?”

Oh. You register your whole body shifting its weight onto the other foot. Twice, the muscles in your legs tensing when she wets her lips with her tongue. A problem, maybe. Your eyes dart about because you’re in front of all these witnesses, and the instinctual urge from somewhere deep and unruly in your head amounts to something like a death wish: to get your hands on her in public, to throw caution to the wind and let her have access to you under all this scrutiny. It’s automatic; you’re leaning back on old habits; humor’s never failed a face like yours. “What, like on a scale of one to ten?”

She leans back, takes both your hands in hers and just grins. “I heard there’s sort of an afterparty later. You going?”

You swallow, collect yourself. “I am.”

“Yeah?” Miyeon’s lip pulls up at the corner, smirk cocked, ready to fire, and her eyes are sparkling, literally; every flash of a camera fills her dark irises with a sharp glister of gold. It’s actually kind of mesmerizing. “Me too.”

“Maybe I'll see you there,” you tell her, leading her to the stage exit.

“Hm, maybe,” she says, and she rubs a few circles into the back of your knuckles. “Though it’d be a sure thing if we go together, wouldn’t it?”

Truth be told, you never make it to the afterparty. You get sidetracked. You get distracted.

“Feels so good, oh my god.” Miyeon’s jaw clenches, teeth together so tight you can feel her body tense up. “So deep, so good, so, fuck—”

What Miyeon is ultimately trying to do in the backseat of your car is ride you hard and fast to the point where she’s mixing up her words, gasping for air, and blathering filth and obscenity from her pretty lips. Until her legs lock up and her eyes shut tight before cumming all over your waist. So yeah, the charcoal slacks end up being a little fortuitous.

She bucks into you hard, holding her weight with two hands on your chest, though she can’t bounce up and down on your cock like she’d much prefer. The way her clit rubs against you as she ruts into your hips like a wild animal feels awesome, even better for her, you reckon, but that’s no substitute for the heavensent sensation she gets running down her spine when you fill her starved cunt repeatedly with long, deep strokes. It’s cramped and awkward and your knees and elbows knock and scrape and she’s taking that frustration out on you. As best she can without hitting her head on the ceiling of the car.

You can certainly appreciate the irony of it. Because you’ve got the poster girl for a disney princess in a state of half-dress (half-undress? under duress? it’s not entirely clear), the champagne hem of that dignified gown bunched up around her hips, furling in supplication, and she’s fucking you in pretty much the least elegant fashion possible.

“God dammit,” she spits out before sinking her teeth into her lower lip, as you offer to help her grind on top of you with two handprints sunk firm into the round of her tight little ass.

It’s clumsy and uncouth, though still, riding you amounts to a religious experience for Miyeon, given the way her cunt is quivering, torrentially wet, and so, so, so hot. Clenching on you in something like worship, in adoration. She should probably be more embarrassed about some of the noises she’s making. They’re high-pitched, whining, desperate even. You can’t quite hear what she’s saying—not over the hollow echo of your sex through the small cabin of the car—but there are only so many iterations of, oh my god, please, fuck, faster, harder, need it, right there, faster, I, ah, ohmygod.

“Baby,” you whisper, wrapping an arm around Miyeon's waist and sinking you both further into the seat. “Fuck, I cannot believe this pussy; you’re so tight, fuck—”

She’s still smiling, though it’s absolutely devilish. Maybe that’s the praise she lives for. Everyone’s already telling her she’s gorgeous, that she’s talented, that she's beautiful inside and out, but she just simply can’t get enough of it: how you’ll slap her ass so hard she yelps and growl against her throat, cum in her cunt and tell her she’s perfect.“Want your cum, baby,” she murmurs, cheeks aflame, lips again parting open, “I want to watch you cum in me.”

“Miyeon,” you groan, “such a good fucking girl for me,” and she just nods, like a fantasy come to life.

She lifts herself up again. Comes crashing down. Good fucking god. Every little roll of her hips is a touch more agonizing than the last; she feels so fucking incredible around you that it all betokens danger. You’re buried so deep inside her that if let go of the breath you’re holding you would drown in the heat of her cunt, the velvety touch of her skin, the fact that she smells fucking amazing—all worked up and starting to sweat.

“Can you?” she asks, propping up the tall heel of her shoe onto the seat and trying to ride up and down your shaft just a bit faster, a little harder. You pull at her dress again, twisting it in your hand until you can see where your cock disappears between the creases of her thighs and into the warm embrace of her cunt. She’s fucking you reckless and sucking sharp gasps of air past her teeth, asking, “do you think you can cum like this?”

“You want me to finish in your pussy that bad, Miyeon?” you ask, shifting slightly in the space beneath her. “Want it so much, want to feel it,” she starts to pant, words disappearing in wet exhalation every time her thighs come spilling onto yours. “Want to feel your cock throb in my pussy, want to feel you fill me up.”

Even accounting for the fact that she’s so small on top of you and even easier to manipulate with nothing more than the firm grasp you have on her waist, it’s a whole ordeal to maneuver about the cramped backseat. Especially considering Miyeon would rather die than feel your cock leave her cunt. She lets out a needy whine, like you’ve done her some sort of injustice, when you find a hand under her shoulder and start to move. “Please…” she groans, grabbing desperately at the collar of your shirt. Searching hard for the unrealized potential of the tie around your neck.

You twist and turn, slide and shimmy until you’ve got Miyeon’s arms pinned behind her back, wrists trapped in your fingers and her svelte frame arching into you. It’s a little precarious, and it takes a few tries to find any sort of rhythm—holding her in place and gliding up into where she’s soaked and aching—but the moment you start slipping your cock up into her cunt, it dawns on you: you can absolutely cum like this. She’s so mind-numbingly tight, so hot, so easy to use; it’s not a challenge. Not in the slightest.

“Oh my god.” She cuts off those incredible noises, breath hitching in her throat. She doesn’t have an inkling of how to react; there’s no way around it. Not when you’re fucking her—truly fucking her—within an inch of her life and pulling her small body down onto your cock harder, faster, faster. Again, again.

Miyeon’s hair is the first thing begging to be ruined. Delicately fixed and pristinely manicured. Gentle waves tumbling over her shoulder as you trace your fingers up the curve of her spine, knead at the back of her neck, and thread into a handful of those ash-blonde locks.

“Fuck.” Her whole body melts into you, and her voice is seeped in lust and need and want: “right there, right there, right there—”

Your fingers tighten in her hair, grip, pull.

“Feel good?” you whisper into her neck, all this soft pale skin begging for a press of your lips.

“It feels—I, fuck.” Miyeon just stutters, eyes watering and chest heaving through all these incoherent breaths as you drive her to silence. Fuck her to submission.

“Princess,” you start, bringing your other hand up to her cheek. It’s the small details that truly send her: the thumb wiping away at the small tears on her long lashes, how you tuck a few misplaced wisps of golden hair behind her ear, dominance soft and doting—it’s not just the fact that you’ll pull her apart; it’s that you’re the one putting her back together. That’ll never be a secret she keeps from you, you figure, because she’s reduced to a whimpering, shuddering mess when you take her lips softly in yours. A chaste, gentle, unscripted kiss. Unbecoming of the reality that has you currently fucking raw and senseless into her creaming cunt.

“Tell me what you want, Miyeon.”

Sure, you’ve got in your hands the script of sin and innocence, and you’ll settle into an assigned part, a role to play. Though to be truthful, you just simply can’t help yourself. She’s delightful. The whispers out your mouth sink once more against her skin, sweaty and red and hot to the touch. She whines like your words cut right to the bone, lethal. Your hips come up, hilting deep in her cunt, and it’s enough to shake an earring loose and into the depths between the seats; you’ll spend a literal lifetime looking for it later. Her breath hitches, regressing to huffs and sharp draws of air when you drag your cock just along the right spot, apparently.

“Please, please, please,” she begs finally, sputtering with the waning energy of air escaping a balloon.

“I want to know what you need from me,” you tell her, letting your voice come out in such tantalizing fashion that it’s the kind of thing that could coerce the truth out of anyone.

“You,” she rasps, “all of you.”

How quick she turns to putty, muscles softening and tensing all at once. And you’re generously allowing her to take more, capitulating to her pleas of right there and harder please, pushing in as deep as you’ll go. You soothe her when she shudders and quakes—just a broad hand at her back—helping her adjust to you.

“Shit, Miyeon, you look perfect like this,” you mutter, watching the small tears that come from the corners of her hooded eyes. “Can’t get over how gorgeous you look taking me.”

Those small hums and moans leaving through closed lips are all she can muster. She clutches ahold of you even tighter, feeling the sharp bloom of everything trickle closer and closer like a dam about to break.

“Is that what you like to hear, princess?” you ask, fucking her right through her own orgasm and realizing it’s hopeless; you’re going to fall in love again and again with that pink stain in her cheeks. “Do you want to be my cumslut? Let me use your pussy whenever I want. You’re so tight and wet for me, Miyeon. You want my cock all the time, don’t you?”

Some of it—maybe all of it—hits hard. She starts to shake. You’re fucking her cunt, steady and resolute, even as she fucking collapses, and her lips part like she’s going to wail, though never makes a sound.

“Words,” you order, breathless. “Oh…” It’s slow at first, that steady stream of fuck and please spilling out of her—curses flowing as easily as the air she breathes. You’ve got her at your complete control, a seeming extension of your will, and she presses her forehead to yours, gasping, “want to feel you fucking cum in me. Please do it, do it, I need to feel you, I want your fucking cum in me so bad. Please, please, please fucking make me yours. Do it, need you to use this little pussy and cum.”

You’re deep inside Miyeon, clutching hard around her waist and pulling down on it as you vault over the proverbial edge. Breathing heavy into her chest as you fuck all this hot cum into her cunt. She keeps rolling her hips, slowly, as if by instinct, to ride everything out of you, until you’re yanked back to the here and now.

“Oh my god,” she coos. Because it’d be impossible to not notice, leaking out of her and onto her thighs.

“Miyeon.” The next sound that comes out of you is near indescribable: gravelly and plucked from deep in your throat.

“So, so much for me,” she adds with a hint of exultation, running her fingers through your hair.

Some part of you expected her to perhaps be more resilient, put up some semblence of a fight, but this is Miyeon, you realize—the roughness in your voice, the gentle touch of your fingers, the severity of an open palm, your lips at her throat—she loves it. Her hands are soon again cupping at your face, tongue reaching into your mouth. And she shudders at the way your cock slides out of her pussy.

“Messy,” you murmur into her kiss, quietly, and you hear her swallow when you skate your finger over her hips and down her stomach, tracing gently at the place you were pressed together, thoroughly covered in your cum, her slick.

“Uh.” Miyeon makes a face. Wrinkles her nose. “Gross.”

“Oh please,” you say as she cuddles up to you as far as the backseat of your car will allow. “You know you love it.”

Here’s the thing you fail to realize about a girl like her, a girl like Miyeon:

She’s more than just the physical, than the sum of her parts. She’s a feeling.

Oh, there’s plenty about the ways you touch her, the way her hand fits into yours, her hair running silky smooth between your fingers—how you can leave bruises on her thighs and marks on her neck, or reduce her to a whimpering mess with nothing but a firm grip. She laughs and it’s something that moves you to your core. She’s easy to admire from afar. And even easier up close, where you can appreciate the mastery in those brushstrokes.

But pay attention to how your blood drains from your cheeks, how the world stutters on its axis when you look at her. Because you can’t help but feel like you’re living life the way it’s portrayed in fiction when you do. Like you’re slipping into a world where no matter how insurmountable the odds, the good guy always wins.

“It’s all bullshit, that’s what it is,” someone is telling you with an almost unsettling confidence, even though their voice is shaky and ever-so-slurred with drink.

You’re sitting there, slightly listless, on one of the stools at a four-top, busy zoning out at the neon smirnoff sign behind the bartender like it might move if you look away for even a second. Your fingers are tapping on the table, and the fact that you can’t taste the kick in your heavily doctored gin and tonic means you’re already drunk. Probably. You’ll have to thank Miyeon later.

“Hey,” the someone starts again, “are you even listening to me?” It’s a little deep, raspy, but it sounds like it belongs to a girl.

No, you think.

“Sorry,” you say after blinking a few times and pulling yourself away from the sign. The girl sitting next to you frowns. “Have we met?”

“Yuqi,” Miyeon says, handing her a beer and setting her own drink down on the table. It’s pink and full of ice and in a ridiculous looking piece of glassware.

It goes without saying that you couldn’t show up to the main event—late, attached at the hip, and with Miyeon’s hair all disheveled and half-repaired like you two were fucking in secrecy—so Miyeon pitches the idea to you while you’re in the middle of wiping cum off your pants with napkins from the glove compartment: If you’re interested, there’s a bar nearby. My friends are there, it’s quiet but it’s nothing too pretentious.

“And you met Sana earlier,” Miyeon adds, lifting her chin in the direction toward the girl buried in her phone, tapping away furiously at a series of text messages—the way she hasn’t looked up in minutes and how her drink is nearly untouched implies some sort of drama.

It’s kinda weird—you’re realizing you might have a type: they’re all some sort of blonde. Shockingly easy to look at too. With bodies that could fill a nighttime of fantasy, and supposedly somehow they’re best friends? Look, you’ve never seen two pretty best friends; it grinds against cosmic law, ain’t one of them supposed to be not so pretty? (Though maybe the rules are different when you land on odd numbers? If it isn’t all a little perplexing.)

“Know each other from work,” Miyeon explains, holding her hair back from her face and barely touching her lips to the rim of her glass.

“Uh.” Yuqi pops the top of the bottle off against the side of the table. “And we live together.” “Roommates?” you ask, carefully trying to keep your tone from sounding judgemental, and Miyeon gives you a solemn nod. There’ll be time to pry later.

“Look,” Sana says, only after finally putting her phone face down in front of her. There’s a story there. Maybe you’ll hear the end of it. “I’m not saying I’m proud of this attitude, okay, but that’s the truth: I make judgments based on what drink people order.”

She fixes her eyes on you, and god, she’s gorgeous. It’s a different kind of beauty, a lot less subtle, way more in your face, and she knows she can get away with it. (Though it’s the patented hundred-megawatt smile of hers that’ll stick with you.)

“Like if you were drinking a cosmo or whatever the hell it is Miyeon’s got—”

“What?” Yuqi scoffs, and her eyebrow turns when she sees Miyeon wrap her arm around yours. “And just like that he’s not sexy or sophisticated, smart or virile? Is that it?” “I suppose…” Sana twists her lip between her teeth. “Maybe it’s context?”

“No, that makes sense,” you say, and you dab at a ring of condensation on the table with a bar napkin. “Like I wouldn’t hesitate to take a cosmo if I was stranded in an airport in February and the planes are getting de-iced and the pilots are deciding whether to take off or go home.”

“I’d order a double,” Miyeon says, and you swear she’s closer to you each time you check.

“So then tell us, what’s the quintessential manly drink then?” Yuqi asks, skeptical, and a little disappointed to even be entertaining the question. “If pink cosmos are on one end of the spectrum…” “Dunno.” Sana crosses her legs, and rubs at her chin. “I suppose anything that comes in one of those squat, burly glasses.”

“The kind that real men hurl across the bar at another man’s head,” you deadpan.

“Oh my god.” Sana springs forward in her seat, and her gaze pins you to where you’re sitting. “You get it. Do I know you from somewhere? I swear you’ve got a face that’s familiar.” “Maybe I just got one of those faces,” you tell her, and Miyeon squeezes her fingers gently around your knee.

“Maybe.” Sana tilts her head, letting out a mostly unentertained chuckle, dry and humorless. You can see the gears slowly churning in her head.

Yuqi’s got her bottle turned up nearly perpendicular to the ceiling, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand—it’s all oddly charming—and she just lets out a wistful sigh. “Someone should make a movie, an old western maybe, where someone flings an oversized martini glass. You could start a movement.”

You’re not really thinking about anything in particular when the conversation ebbs and flows, except that you’re content; buzzed with the bitters in your drink; and the ephemeral touches of the hand in your lap, gentle, curious, teasing. There’s something laid back about being in Miyeon’s company that draws you in, something effortless, like the world seems less maliciously unfriendly, even if she ends up managing to embarrass you in a game of billiards. She finds the table at the end of the bar and readies a flip comment while rubbing chalk into the end of a pool cue. You watch as it leaves white streaks all over her chic dress, and you’re kind of enamored by the fact she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re sure you’ve played before?” she ribs, pulling a hairpin from her clutch, and clipping it to the hair at one temple to keep it from interfering with her game.

“Aren’t you a wealth of talents,” you say, in admiration.

“Do you mean, appearances can be deceiving?” she asks while sizing up a shot, grins—a smile that suggests mischief, which is normal, except that this one invites you to be part of it. “I think you might be putting words in my mouth.”

“Oh,” she says, and with her lovely, slender, fingers pressing onto the green baize, she sockets three shots in a row. Misses on the fourth. “So now you don’t like me putting things in your mouth, is that it?”

“Hm,” you say, ignoring the obvious bait and lining up a shot. “This is going to be a weird question.”

Miyeon drops her arm and tilts her head quizzically.

“What do you think of the script?”

“The one that has us heartbroken and lost and wandering until we rediscover love is right where we left it?”

“That’s the one.”

Miyeon covers her mouth to laugh when you take your shot and it misses in such grand fashion that you can’t help but hang your head. “It’s the dress shirt,” she says to comfort you.

“I’ll take what pity I can get.”

You’re watching Miyeon in action—hair carefully swept back, earrings sparkling, and heels set firmly on the floor—all together rather enchanting. She makes several more shots, aimed with perfect precision and seriousness, before finally answering you: “dunno, seems a little psychotic.”

“I mean that’s the thing about romance,” you begin, “there’d be no story if the writers weren’t at least a little psychotic.”

“Oh by the way.” Yuqi’s voice booms at that moment, with all the subtlety of a bulldozer: “I’ve gotta take Sana home. She’s late to getting plowed by her new manager. I’ll catch you later.”

“That isn’t—” Sana huffs, pinches at the bridge of her nose, and stops herself short, before reapproaching it in a more bracing way. “I’m telling you he gets all worked up whenever I’m out drinking this late.”

“Worked up, huh?” Yuqi grins at a parody of a smile, and turns to you, laughing. “That’s how she likes him.”

“Yuqi,” Sana groans.

Miyeon rests her cue up on the table and crosses her arms, smirking in your direction. “Life imitates art, right?

“You’ve got a girl here, don’t you?” Minnie asks, at nine in the morning and standing in your living room. It reminds you of the fact that you have a meeting on your calendar on today’s date between you and your agency’s lawyer at nine in the morning.

She's not some expert sleuth. At least, not as far as you're aware. It could be one of any number of things that tips her off: Miyeon’s heels are in your foyer, her champagne dress folded neatly over the back of your couch, or maybe it’s the pair of underwear that landed perfectly on the corner of your television. What it is not, however, is the reddening outline of Miyeon’s lips on your Adam's apple; you’re doing a pretty good job of coyly covering that up with your palm.

“I mean yeah, I suppose you could say that.”

“I don’t know if you could’ve answered that more ominously.” Minnie laughs, shuffling past where you stand in the door frame and setting her bag down on your kitchen island, surveying the mess in your apartment. She stands before you, wearing all black and looking down her nose at you.

(She’d pretty much cornered the market on wearing all black and looking down her nose at you, and you always take a moment to marvel that anyone could live on the earth only twenty-some odd years and manage to wear all black and look down their nose at you with such timeless self-assurance.)

“If you need her to sign an NDA, I’ll have to swing back by the office to pick up the proper paperwork.” “I don’t need her to sign an NDA,” you say, turning on water from the faucet and filling a kettle. The hand you have running through your hair helps you remember that you are still very poorly put together: a mess of bedhead, t-shirt, underwear, and only a singular sock to your name. Not that it matters, you suppose. Minnie’s seen you worse.

“Wow. Things must be getting serious, huh.” Minnie drums her fingers on the counter. “Well whatever it is, I’ve got stuff for you to sign.”

“I thought we walked through all the contract boilerplate already.” “We did.” “And?” “Contracts change.” The pen she has in her fingers, scanning over a stack of papers, is poised. Her slow nod studious, blandly puzzled. “That’s why you need me.”

“Now if that isn’t an unfortunate truth,” you say, and Minnie raises an eyebrow. “Good change or bad change?”

“Depends. Have you met Cho Miyeon, the other lead? She’s cute, blonde.” Minnie hovers her hand an inch in front of her nose. “About yea high.”

“A few times,” you answer, sorta truthfully.

Minnie tilts her head, and licks her thumb to flip through the first couple pages in the stack. “Well, the producers want you two to be seen. Together. Somewhere high profile and suggestive.”

“Okay.” You’re pouring hot water from the kettle over coffee grounds and a filter when you realize you have no idea what that’s about. You voice as much: “I have no idea what that means.”

“Well, here’s the general thought: they figure they can get some free marketing, brush up a little media buzz, get people talking about this movie if some paps snap some pictures of you two where it looks like you’re—”

“Where it looks like we’re dating. Okay, sure, wonderful.”

“Your words, not mine—or the producers, legally.” You fall silent, thinking: there’s no such thing as fairytales, it was bound to happen, a trip up, a snag, a snare. You know, in essence, it’s trouble.

“Um.” Your shoulders drop. “The producers want a scandal, Minnie.” “Again, I’m not legally allowed to call it that.” She shakes her head, before putting something down on a lined memo pad with great industry. “And if that’s your assessment, you came to it all on your own with no help from me.”

But yes, she mouths to you silently. You got it, aren’t you clever, now play along.

“Does this not feel like shaking a hornet’s nest?” you ask her. “Surely there’s a better way to go about receiving death threats; she’s a damn idol.”

“She certainly is,” Minnie says, passing you the pen and giving you her practiced professional-but-still-definitely-sardonic-smile that always manages to emote, please don’t be difficult. If she’s hoping it inspires confidence, it does not. “Sign the new contract.”

You’ve got plenty of reasons to have reservations, but here’s a fun fact not a lot of people know: there’s a part of you perfectly content shutting up and doing what you’re told. Maybe it’s something about pretty girls with dark eyes, long legs and a curl in their lip that upstages anything like subtlety—an Achilles heel of sorts. Except instead of your mother forgetting to bathe your feet in the river styx, you’ve just got some mother issues in general.

“There,” Minnie says, watching you initial on the dotted line. “Was that so hard? Someday, you’ll look back and think, yeah, that’s where it all goes to shit.

Three weeks into filming, you make good on your promise.

It would have been neater, perhaps, if all the sneaking around and impropriety caught up with you and used this moment as a catalyst: if, filled with embarrassment, you owned up to everything that was going on between you. Might’ve saved you some hurt.

You watch Miyeon’s hand shoot up to her mouth only to find whimpers leaking out from beneath her palm.

What if all those cameras had instead gotten pictures of you and Miyeon here, in the restroom of a cafe that Miyeon swore up and down would be crawling with paparazzi—where Miyeon had dragged you by the wrist halfway through a bottle of dry chardonnay, locked the door behind her, and flicked the skirt of a her floral dress up over her hips. Imagine the way it would look: you on your knees, face buried between Miyeon’s legs—

“I swear… your fucking mouth,” Miyeon murmurs, fingers running through your hair.

—all you know is that it would have been a different kind of disaster.

“Oh,” she moans, and you swallow heavily at the sight of her above you, following the movement in her face: every wince, every flinch, pleasure absolute and wringing her dry. She’s pretty as always, eyes dark and twinkling under the cool fluorescent lights. It’s that damn blush again, and you’re convinced eating Miyeon out feels like the most normal thing in the universe, like you’ve done it a million times before, and you’ll do it a million times more. Just listen to how Miyeon’s breath stutters when you lap softly at the heat between her lips, lifting her hood and swirling her clit once, twice, before bringing the narrow point of your tongue back to the shallow depth of her aching entrance. She shudders at all how you tease her, slick pooling in your mouth, down your chin; a pinched off moan filling the bathroom when you add another finger inside her.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she says, gasping out on top of an embarrassed little sigh each time time she bucks against the touch of your hand. You spread her lips, get your tongue flatter, deeper, and she drops her shoulders, laughing in that high-pitched skittery way she does when she’s struggling not to cum all over you with her eyes clenched shut.

It’s a sight to behold: Miyeon twisting her brows and biting into her lower lip—chewing off all the lip-gloss you know she just put on because you watched her make a show of it at the table like it was the most delicate thing in the world. She looks soft, docile even, and hums out a wistful note when you squeeze your hand into her thigh. Swallows back a moan when you reach up and knead at her chest. Yeah, she is soft. Tender and malleable and perfect. How easily you keep her pinned in place with just a flex of your wrist.

“Now would you look at that, princess,” slips out of you, totally carefree, lifting your lips from her pussy and wiping the wet from your chin. She sways slightly, and you’re leaning into her space, voice nearly coming out breathy and flooded as hers, asking, “You’re so wet, Miyeon. How do you want me to make you cum? On my fingers?”

Miyeon just sighs, lust and need glittering in her eyes. If there’s anything you’ve picked up from all of this so far, from all the raunchy sex, every manner in which she’s puddled in your grip, all the times she’s begged for you to hold her down and rail her—more than anything else, Miyeon loves, loves, loves to be teased.

But it’s the way her smile stretches, just perfectly, or even just one glance from those doleful eyes—fuck, goddamnit, one day I am really going to fucking die written into the shy curve of her lips—you’re never quite that cruel. Her panties are dropped to the floor and hanging around her ankle, soaked, ruined, but that doesn’t mean she needs to be too; you bring your lips back to her pussy. Fingertips curling up against that spot that drives her up the wall and your tongue running laps around her swollen clit.

“Oh, like that,” Miyeon whines, barely able to make any noises louder than a whimper, “just like that, please, yes, like that—”

And then you catch the aching swell of her clit between your lips. Slowly, start to suck.

“God,” she breathes out, still writhing from the fingers you have inside her, your thumb rubbing against wet, slippery skin, right how you’ve learned she likes it. And she gasps, head rolled back, brows furrowed up: “Oh, yes, oh God, you — you’re perfect. It’s — ”

That really never gets old.

Everything stills for a moment. Everything besides your fingers fucking her quietly while her orgasm quakes through her. She’s catching her breath, staring at you—skin dewy with sweat and chest heaving. Her warmth wraps around you, surrounds you, and you’d be content to stay like this forever, pressing kisses into her stomach and never, ever letting go.

That is until she looks at you, lashes fluttering, as if she’s trying to gauge your emotions. Until she speaks. “I want it,” she gasps, breath steadying, “I want your cock.”

She knows you, right down to the basics: you can never deny her anything.

(You’re being cautious—covering your tracks, you convince yourself—but then there’s all this evidence to the contrary, no shortage of close calls, times where you’re so nearly caught: Miyeon’s lithe, tight body grinding desperately against yours in a costume closet or her dressing room or in the backseat of your car; the way she keens when you slip your fingers inside her, how she wails in delight when you really fuck her in earnest; you cutting off those unabashed moans with your mouth or your hand or even just two fingers shoved between her lips so she might have something to bite down on.

It’s this whole thing, the sneaking around, the indiscretion—Miyeon loves it. And the danger of it all become something like a siren’s call, you are just as attracted to the idea too, that you’re masking who you are in the dark, just past drawn curtains and under fitted sheets.

“Wow, I never noticed, but you guys are, like, weirdly close,” Soyeon says once, sometime near the beginning, and perhaps when you’d begun to stare a little too obviously as Miyeon was tying her hair back. It has you both laughing off the observation as something trivial, like Soyeon was the odd one out for noticing anything at all. But fast forward a few hours, and you’re sprawled out on a set of hotel linens, having a laugh again all while Miyeon fucks herself on your hard cock, delighted at how easy it is to conceal everything in plain sight.)

“Um,” Yuqi says, walking into the living room of Miyeon’s apartment with her laptop precariously perched on her forearm.

You’re out there on a Wednesday, hanging out, kissing Miyeon every now and again, but talking mostly. The rationalization is that you’re practicing and memorizing lines, ironing out kinks that aren’t really there. Which is all how you know things are getting out of control, if not among the other hints: Miyeon’s added a spare toothbrush in the cup on your bathroom vanity, a pile of women’s laundry atop your washing machine that never grows any smaller, beauty products under the sink, and there’s all those damn bobby pins that show up in every corner of your apartment. “It’s just casual”, you overhear her say once, on the phone with Sana, and you do your best to never, ever think about it.

“You idiots, you’re trending.” Yuqi sits down on the sofa next to you, not at all disconcerted that you’ve got your hand in the ends of Miyeon’s hair or that she’s practically sitting in your lap. You learn pretty quick that Yuqi feels like she belongs anywhere. In some ways, that’s her charm. “And?” Miyeon asks, dismissive.

“Are you both insane?” Yuqi turns her laptop around so you can read her feed.

There’s a series of pictures on the screen attached to a headline that starts with breaking in bold capital letters, like its only true purpose is to fuck up the internet. Your eyes start on Miyeon first, the tilt of her chin, her fingers floating across her collarbones, smile radiant—looking at you the way she always does when she’s mentally undressing you. Fortunately, she’s still perfectly made up, hair tied up above her shoulders and the mascara under her eyes not quite yet running; this photo is before you made a mess of all that, gotten her moaning your name in the restroom. You’ve got your hand at the back of your neck, and you’re laughing. The glint in your eye screams complicity.

Miyeon says emptily, “you’re overreacting.”

Yuqi’s frown deepens fractionally, but you’re putting the pieces together. It’s pretty unhinged.

“Christ,” you start, “get a look at some of these retweets: I’m just thinking of what those kids would look like, the genetic payout; fuuuuuuck I need to see that sextape.” You laugh. “Look, this one just says: sex.”

Miyeon leans forward in your lap, cheek nearly pressed against yours. “Here’s one: how much do you wanna bet Miyeon tops when they—”

Yuqi bursts out laughing, clearly almost snorts, and you both raise an eyebrow at her. “What? This girl here isn’t topping anyone.”

“Shut it.” Miyeon rubs her hand at her chin, turns her eyes up at you, and without an ounce of irony continues, “How much do you wanna bet? That these are your fans.”

Yeah, probably not, you think. “I’m sorry. Do you have any idea how my demographic skews? Not like your fans who are…” Miyeon’s face lights up. “Are delightful?” “Have a sock at home with Miyeon’s name on it?” Yuqi chimes in, grinning. “I mean if somebody wants to make a puppet of me,” Miyeon says, practically huffing out the words, “that’s not really any of your concern.”

Yuqi makes a face. You watch as she slowly twirls one of those long waves of pink hair around her finger (strawberry blonde, Miyeon called it, and you don’t know shit all about that, but it does sound pretty, so that fits, you guess). It goes all the way down to her waist, and you’ve noticed, possibly for a second or third time, that she looks killer in a pair of high cut jeans—what all with the long legs and an ass that more than plenty fills them out, she could be peddling denim on a Levi’s catalog.

“What should be your concern,” Yuqi says, “is that the internet thinks you’re getting railed on the regular.” It’s quick—blink and you’d have missed it—her eyes lingering for a moment on your expression before she lifts her chin and laughs, dryly, almost nervously to fill the silence. “What the fuck is wrong with you two?”

Yuqi’s expertise, first and foremost, is talking. Go ahead, take a moment to consider how wildly dangerous that is, for a girl with a face like hers and a body like that to be good at talking. Every so often you catch her staring at you with her huge, beautiful eyes, these deep pools of pure anthracite; the sort of charming that keeps you smiling and laughing without even knowing why. She’s equal parts badmash and coquettish, you realize, and somewhere in the seamlessness with which she swaps between the two is a hint that both are facades. (That there exists a third Yuqi, the one who determines which mask is appropriate for which occasion but who is otherwise veiled, obscured, entirely impossible to know.)

Whatever your theory for it, the charm, the innuendos, the suggestion, it all gets dialed up to eleven.

Yuqi suggests you stay for dinner in a way that is impossible to refuse, and Miyeon grumbles something inaudible, but you think you’re able to piece it together: this is a regular thing for them. Miyeon and you haven’t talked numbers or cleared up the bodycount, haven’t talked about anything serious at all—the most incriminating thing between you being Miyeon laying her head on your chest, cunt still full of your cum, saying, I’m really glad I met you—of all of Miyeon’s princes-in-waiting, you’d be a fool to think you were the first. And you’re willing to wager Yuqi’s done all this before.

“Hey, how do you take your whiskey?” she asks, pouring olive oil over a bowl of cherry tomatoes and chopping a sprig of fresh basil. If Miyeon wasn’t glaring at her, the quirk in Yuqi’s lip has you swearing she would’ve thrown a wink in your direction. Just for good measure.

“Neat is fine,” you tell her, and Miyeon rolls her eyes. -

It’s actually not true that Yuqi kisses you first. Not the whole truth anyway. “Hard to explain it in words, huh?” she asks, leaning into your space and nearly pushing you over the back of the sofa. Her knee is between your thighs, pressing up on your crotch in a way that feels good and threatening. She knows that’s the only thing she needs to keep you in place, so she leaves her hands at her chest, fingers toying with the top button of her shirt—ruminations of whether to unbutton it herself or wait for you to finally tear the whole thing off her.

(There’s a million different ways you could do this, but you’re perfectly content seeing how this plays out.)

“With just a few of them that is,” Miyeon says, drying her hands with a towel at the kitchen sink.

“Oh,” Yuqi starts, and her lips twist into an approximation of a smile. “You’re saying you two don’t have a label.”

“We’re coworkers technically,” you tell her, faux-casual, like it doesn’t beg twenty more questions.

“I don’t know; the internet thinks you guys are in fucking love.” Yuqi’s fingers come to a decision: slipping the button out of place with a little effort and resting at the next one down. Her neck is pale and tender and you’re only pulling away long enough from the glint in her big gorgeous eyes to know you want to get your lips on it. “And you’re telling me you wouldn’t be jealous—even a little—if I started sucking his cock.”

She gets jealous easy, is how Yuqi explains it to you, freeing an ounce of soft cleavage, a sneak of black lace with another button. Look, it’s just chemistry—you have it with everyone. Who can fault you for it?

“Hm.” Miyeon shrugs, looking put upon, and leans back against the counter where she spends a long moment with her arms crossed, before running her thumb across her chin. “Can I mention something?” “Anything for our princess,” Yuqi says, finally touching you. Just two fingers at your sternum. “Right?” “Why is it you’re never the one bringing anyone home?”

“I’m not a slut,” Yuqi says, straight-faced, and Miyeon’s whole expression goes awry. That’s probably where she seals her fate.

Not that you think for a second Yuqi had recused herself from the attention of boys, girls—none of it in short supply—and for all her “fidelity”, you refuse to believe the things she does with her words are unintentional, that her talent for seduction is somehow innate, something god-given.

“How can you be so sure?” you ask, fingers threading through Yuqi’s hair until she tilts up her chin and smiles.

Eventually there comes a moment where Miyeon meanders around the kitchen island and gets a hold of you. Figuratively and literally; eyes hardened on you in a way you’re not sure you’ve seen before.

Mine, is what she’s telling Yuqi in no ambiguous terms, hands hooking into the waist of your pants.

“Tell me something,” Yuqi starts with your name on her lips, “does she beg for it? When you’re fucking her, does she whine and cry until she’s collapsed and panting? Really, I’m curious. Does she look at you with those pretty eyes and plead for you to pump her full of cum?”

“Yuqi,” Miyeon says, kind of sharply.

To be clear, you’re not totally without blame here either, seeing the opportunity as it appears, seizing it for yourself—and you say the words as you think them: “it’s kind of her thing, I guess.”

“Total cumslut, right?” Yuqi’s hands are all over your arms, your chest, and you’re spread in both directions, reaching around Miyeon’s waist, and toying at the tight fit of Yuqi’s jeans. She leans forward a little, side-eyeing the way Miyeon’s lip ever so slightly curls when she enters that anxious proximity a breath's distance away from you, whispering: “I’m nothing like that, I’m so much better.”

“You’ve got a real mouth on you,” Miyeon tells her, watching her shirt fall down her petite shoulders. “You know that?” Yuqi’s eyes are flaring hot, dripping with untoward intent, and they stay on you just long enough for her to make certain you’re paying attention before she turns to Miyeon. “I know you love this mouth.”

You realized it long before dinner, it’s true, probably long before today: Yuqi likes you, which, at present, is pretty obvious. She likes it when you smile, likes it when you rub your hand at the nape of your neck and laugh at her witty one-liners, likes it when you ruffle your hair just like you’ve done in front of the camera your whole life. Yuqi likes you just as Yuqi likes Miyeon, and she’s twisting her hand at your shirt tighter yet, hoping one of you might just kiss her. “Miyeon,” you say after an inhale, commanding tone right where you left it, and it’s comical how fast both girls heel. Isn’t that good to know. Filing it away in a mental folder of sorts, you straighten yourself onto your feet, slowly. The thing that ends up flipping the table—the thing that has Miyeon’s expression of general discontent rally to something a little more impending—is just how much taller you are than Yuqi. And when that hits her, swallow visible through the hollow of her throat, there’s a waver in that deadly expression of hers, a weakness, something you can exploit. Your hand finds purchase under Yuqi’s jaw, gently, and you tilt her face toward you like you’re about to kiss her. Only instead, you run your thumb across her lower lip and say, “I don’t blame you, her mouth is gorgeous.”

“And?” Yuqi finds her composure quickly. “What do you want this mouth to do?”

“Oh, Yuqi,” Miyeon says, malice hidden under a voice tender and semi-sweet, before you can think to prepare an answer. She’s twisting Yuqi’s bra strap between her fingers as it comes down around her shoulder. “I want you to get me ready for his cock.”

“I,” Yuqi starts—

“Hm?” Miyeon asks, and that’s a pitch in her voice you’ve never heard. You’re looking over both of them enigmatically, ready to walk away from this with a clear picture of who Yuqi is, obviously, but then it’s the expression on Miyeon’s face—so unbothered, so lewdly satisfied, you have to know more.

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m just gonna watch.” Yuqi reaches up on her toes before Miyeon can react.

Kisses you right in front of her.

It’s not really clear to you who, if anyone, is piloting this thing, only that it’s moving at near out of control speeds. And even though Miyeon’s bed isn’t even quite big enough to hold you all, that ends up doing little to slow either of them down.

Miyeon is between your legs, preening a few strands of glossy hair back behind her ear that have real determination to keep falling in front of her face. You’d offer to help, to get your hands in it and pull tight, but you’ve come upon an acquired taste for the blowjob Miyeon’s barely giving you right now. A masterwork in its own right: a certain finesse in each flick of her tongue, the soft cushion of her pouty lips, the way every gentle kiss finds you that much fucking harder in her fingers. She drags her tongue up, tastes the pre-cum weeping from your cock. Just smiles like she knows how bad you want hold her tight and fuck her throat. The glint in her doe-like eyes tells you that you will.

She gets it. Terror lives in anticipation, not the bang. That sanguine expectation of pleasure becomes pleasure in of itself. Her instincts tell her to tease, tell her to kiss and lick; only when you’re finally shuddering a wet breath through your teeth, does she part her lips around the head of your cock and start to suck.

She takes in an inch, maybe another. Slides her tongue slowly under your cock, and christ, her mouth feels fucking amazing.

You sigh like you’re stepping into a hot bath, and Miyeon’s satisfaction is equally palpable: corners of her mouth stretching around you into a pretty little smirk, something you’re more than happy to feel running up and down your cock until she slacks her jaw and takes you in full, past her soft, wet lips.

Though when finally you look up, you realize Yuqi’s barely on the bed actually—just one knee and it looks precarious—unfazed that she’s spilling off the end; working her hands into the bottom of Miyeon’s skirt like she’s done it a thousand times. She drags her underwear down her thighs, and Yuqi reminds you that she’s got the exact kind of wicked streak that’ll never let an opportunity go to waste:

“Oh,” she says, head up over Miyeon’s ass, blinking in admiration, “she’s even buying new lingerie for you, huh? I didn’t realize how head over heels—”

“Jesus Christ.” Miyeon’s lips are still half complicating themselves with your cock; she pumps her slender fingers around you in consolation, and murmurs, “do you ever fuck? Or you all tease.”

“Well if you insist,” Yuqi purrs, a mean tilt to her voice—because in the end, she knows that she wants to; that with her small body right between you, like this, there's plenty of her to share; that when it comes to Miyeon, there always is. “Hm,” she hums, slipping a finger or two inside Miyeon’s pussy. Your vision of it being the way Miyeon’s face twists delightfully, eyebrows sewn together in a perfect discord with the rest of her angelic features. “Baby, you’re so wet—”

“She loves the attention,” you say, and Miyeon’s eyes track yours while she lowers her lips slowly down your shaft once more. “If I had to guess, the only thing better than me fucking her perfect little cunt, is if there’s an audience there to watch it.” Your hand rests below Miyeon’s ear, fingers kneading at the back of her neck and guiding her just enough so that her tongue is flat and slick where you want it. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

Yuqi separates her lips from Miyeon’s asscheek, that heavy, open-mouthed kiss at the curve of creamy skin coming to an end just long enough to catch you smirking. She’s fucking the girl’s cunt open with her fingers, slowly, reminding Miyeon that she doesn’t have it confused—that she knows she’s nothing like the princess everyone believes her to be, that she’s so much more. “Always such a good slut, baby. Go on, show me how you take that cock.” “How about you come over here,” you tell Yuqi, before looking back at Miyeon’s eyes, innocent and blinking like she isn’t taking you in and out between her tightly-sealed lips. “Help me cum in her throat.” At that, you feel Miyeon’s jaw slack open even further, and the fingers she has corkscrewing around you find room at your hips instead. It’s hard to get over how perfectly submissive she can be, the way this always plays out; you’ve never needed anything like safewords, because Miyeon trusts you implicitly. Trusts that you’d never, ever hurt her. Trusts that you’ll get your hard cock in her and fuck her until her knees are wobbling and she’s practically unable to walk. Trusts that you won’t even hesitate when she asks for more. Yuqi lands a few more kisses at Miyeon’s cunt, along her ass, and then, without warning, sinks her teeth into all that soft, pliable skin. Miyeon winces, something you can feel, a sharp moan becoming sealed in against your cock and leaking slightly between her lips like it’s the drool running down your shaft. Apparently the image of you firing off a salvo of cum deep in Miyeon’s throat is as hot as it sounds, because Yuqi is grinning like a cheshire cat as she slides off the bed. “I just hope you realize you’re on the docket for quite a lot here.”

“What’s that, high expectations?”

“A lot more than a throatpie,” Yuqi says, hopping onto the bed next to where you’re sitting, where you’re slowly fucking Miyeon’s mouth. Each time you lift her face up and down the length of your cock, you feel the back of her throat, start to catalog the noises she makes as she starts to slobber onto you.

“Yeah,” you say, fisting a second hand into Miyeon’s hair. “I was kind of counting on it.”

“Go figure.” Yuqi’s voice is low and raspy, right into your junction where your shoulder meets your neck. She reaches an arm around you, leaving ephemeral kisses at your jaw, your cheek, getting her lips right next to your ear, where she whispers, “you’re actually kinda depraved.”

“Well, welcome to showbiz, I guess.” “Hm,” Yuqi says, watching you shudder as her fingers arrive around the base of your cock, fucking you with them in tandem as you sleeve yourself in out of Miyeon’s hot mouth like she’s some toy to be used, to be fucked, to be ruined.

Your mouth opens and closes, twice, before sputtering, “I’m actually—”

“One of the normal ones?” Yuqi tightens her grip. She’s picking up all that slick drool and precum where it threatens to leak onto your waist, and it makes her touch every bit as life-endingly-incredible as the tight fit of Miyeon’s mouth. The combination of which has you groaning audibly.

“Yeah, sure,” you breathe, “something like that.”

“And a narcissist too.” Yuqi pulls at your face to unstick your gaze from the sight of your cock disappearing between Miyeon’s soft, pretty lips. You recognize the touch of her hand as it wanders down to your balls, gently, but still very much present. And right after the silence stretches, just a little too far, she says, “aren’t you two just perfect for eachother.”

Yuqi kisses you hard. These sweltering, stinging, asphyxiating kisses that grab at your lips with no intention of letting go, and everything becomes oddly quiet. All you can hear, outside of those messy, strangled sounds from Miyeon’s throat as you fuck your cock into it, is the dull pulse of blood rushing through your head. It’s as if the two of them are pleasure in resonance, channeling onto the same wavelength: Miyeon’s tongue is doing just about fucking everything each time you pull your throbbing cock out of her throat, and she slips it past her lips—starts lapping—when you weave your fingers in her hair even tighter. She gets messier, sloppier, her composure fading like it’s the mascara beneath her eyes. You can feel the flutter of her lashes against your waist right as you pull her mouth back down your shaft. It’s hot and wet and you don’t even realize you start bucking your hips, dragging Miyeon’s lips around your cock quickly, quicker, quicker—

“God,” you mutter, final threads torn apart, and that’s the exact reaction that has Yuqi smiling against your teeth, whispering into your lips, can feel you fucking throbbing. Cum in her for me, cum in her throat. Cum.

Mnnph.

Yeah, that’ll push you right to the edge, teetering. In freefall, actually, jaw snapping shut first—fingers shortly after—you tug hard at where you’ve gathered slipshod pigtails of shimmering, silky-smooth hair, and Miyeon quite nearly chokes as you release everything into her mouth, deluge-like. You’re going to make a mess, you think. You’ll make more.

Mmnnppph.

Okay, it’s filthy is what it is; the sounds of it alone are fucking filthy. That seal of soft lips around you starts to break, leaving you with the flood of cum and spit spilling down your cock and into Yuqi’s fingers as Miyeon gasps at an overwhelmingly desperate draw of air. The struggle to swallow you down is beyond unreasonable, but she brings her mouth back onto you again—closes her eyes and sucks.

“All of it,” Yuqi whispers still. That’s the kick, and your whole body commits to sighing as she jerks your cock into the wet heat of Miyeon’s mouth. She twists gently, pumping, pulling, fucking every last bit of tension out of your muscles and draining it thoroughly into Miyeon’s throat.

(So that’s what you like, is how you think Yuqi says it, eyes studying your torn expression in equal parts apathy and awe.

She licks your cum off the sharp edge of her knuckles, from between her fingers, and she glances down at where Miyeon is still lapping her tongue at sensitive skin and sucking and cleaning you between her lips. Her lipstick is smeared, makeup running, with tears visible at the ends of her lashes, her cheeks still burning hot and embered. Miyeon looks perfect in many ways, but only flawless in one.)

“Good lord.” Yuqi’s eyes are creased in laughter near the end of your recovery, lighting fast and pulling you over Miyeon’s delicate frame. It’s the kind of laughter that’s genuine and contagious. Sweetly harmonic.

Calling you to join in while you glide your cock between Miyeon’s thighs and press the small of her back into her mattress until she’s practically prone to the bed, tight little ass angled up, proffering, and simply begging for you to pound away.

“And I mean this in the most respectful way possible,” Yuqi says, with a hair tie between her teeth and fixing back her long waves into something more manageable, hoping it might be something you can pull and yank. What’s the saying—a brave man dies once, but a coward ought to know that Yuqi will always, always, always get what she wants.

“You two are actually really fuckin’ weird.” Her eyes are smoldering, lips quirked into a careless little grin. “I love it.”

“Alright, I’m going to have to ask,” Miyeon says, “do I need to be worried about this?”

Someone probably should be. The realization you’re hurdling into is that there exists both a waking up with Yuqi and a waking up with Yuqi, much in the same way there exists both a sleeping with Yuqi and a sleeping with Yuqi.

The three of you do first wake up together, just this ridiculous tangle of limbs that really only has one realistic conclusion, and when Miyeon reminds you—bent over the bathroom sink minutes later and cumming on Yuqi’s fingers—she has to be at the studio in an hour to refilm a few of her over-the-shoulders shots, and it’s not fair that you get to laze around all day, and that her manager is literally going to be here to pick her up any minute, Yuqi and you do the most natural thing in the world. You continue waking up.

You wake up in the shower, on the kitchen island, back again in Miyeon’s room since it’s already kind of fucked up anyway; Yuqi wakes you up all while her knuckles turn white around the door handle of the refrigerator, the back of the living room sofa, and it’s not really that convincing when she turns to Miyeon, one eye shut tight, and tells her, “no, not at all.”

Because when you try to voice something similar, your words get caught pretty deep in your throat, stuck and unmoving. That's become pretty familiar. It’s all pretty fucked, actually.

Yuqi’s on her knees in front of you, fist tight around your cock and jerking all this hot cum onto her face. There’s sin tucked everywhere into these pages. Particularly on her nose, her lips, her cheek, bisecting one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows. You have your proclivities. The tendency toward destruction, toward ruin, and what is Yuqi if not a gorgeous masterpiece begging for someone, anyone to be just a little destructive and ruinous. She flinches every time it hits her, pumping her fingers around your cock again until a rope of creamy white flies right into her pink hair.

We’re fine, is what you tell Miyeon, huffing and repeating yourself: “We’re fine, I’ll catch you later.”

Miyeon crosses her arms, and that’s when it becomes a little clearer. The juxtaposition here is striking and immediate: black heels, black leggings, pencil skirt, prim and pressed white-collared shirt, the cute little suit jacket that fits barely over her dainty shoulders—she’s dressed head to toe in business casual like she’s about to put in eight hours hole-punching or making copies or writing emails and it’s so effortlessly sexy that the only thing that could possibly distract you from it—

“He’ll be fine,” Yuqi says, not even chagrined in the slightest that she’s fucking covered in cum. You watch her stand up, wipe her eyelashes free of mess with the back of her forearm, and start leading you to the window with her wrist still flexing out tiny motions around your cock. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Just a reminder,” Miyeon shouts, even-pitch and tone slightly indignant, which makes a lot of sense. “You promised you’d sit in for my line reads.”

“And I will.”

It’s almost idiotic—here you are, the expert in the room, a professional in spinning ludicrous little lies, purveyor of fantasy and fiction and fuck if it’s not obvious that you’re planning on fucking Yuqi’s pretty little cunt until you’re both forgetting how to function. Miyeon reads that from across the room. From where the stench of sex is so heavy it’s probably hitting her too.

“Oh relax princess,” Yuqi says to her, and her lips slant to something more mischievous. Her shoulders are slumped back against the pane of glass and she’s rubbing the head of your cock through the soaked folds of her pussy. Neither of you are in search of ideas, for inspiration. Want for nothing. You’ll fucking ruin this little cunt—get me screaming and so addled I can’t speak straight, Yuqi’s telling you with just the corner of her mouth, curling.

You grab hold of Yuqi, grappling with her for a moment before you spin her around in your hands—until her tits are plastered onto the window. It’s a show of force, a drill in shock and awe admittedly, but also you’ve got two perfect rows of bite marks above your collarbone. Honest to god, a full dental record, right in your shoulder. You sense the inspiration in it. Yuqi fucks like there’s inspiration in it, like she’s trying to kill you, in a way, but you’re paid for maintaining an image just a tad more wholesome than that. Ideally with a little less blood where a camera could catch it.

“Jesus christ,” Miyeon says, tapping away at her phone. “You guys are gross.”

“He promised. Didn’t he?” Yuqi mutters against the pane, the condensation in her breath fogging immediately. If that isn’t a perfect preview of what you’ll do to her. Perfectly premeditated by the way she fucking keens when you slip back inside her tight cunt. And Miyeon is very unimpressed with all of it: “Yeah okay, whatever, I don’t care, stay hydrated or something. I’m going to wait downstairs.”

“Told you,” Yuqi purrs, grinning all over you, in the breadth of quiet that the door leaves slamming shut behind Miyeon—stage exit, fade to black; you know that sometimes the magic of film isn’t what’s shown on camera, but rather what isn’t.

“Told me what?” you ask, still enthralled by how Yuqi is so small underneath you, how when you’re both reaching for control, you don’t really even care if she beats you to the draw.

She gets jealous, Yuqi’s trying to explain, in between the sounds of you fucking her open and raw. You hesitate. Like you haven’t always had that effect on people, blossomed into blessing, complexed into curse. You reach your hand up Yuqi’s ribs, her chest, around her throat, and let your words bite at her ear: “oh, I think you will too.”

“I get hate mail,” you tell Miyeon. You’re on set the following week, ducking out of the path of a mic boom that is swinging way too fucking low, and there’s this story trending that heavily suggests you and Miyeon are knocking boots and it has a few disheartened fans absolutely outraged. “Like physical hate mail, in envelopes and stamped and everything.”

“It’s because of the stubble,” she says, rubbing a finger under your jaw. The girl in charge of costuming is adamant that beard prosthetics are lazy and cheap and you are neither. Even if you need it for only one scene. “It makes you look…”

“Uncouth?”

“Rakish,” she says, blinking. And as an afterthought: “Like, of all your thoughts, the one you have of pulling my shirt up and kissing at my tits until they’re sore is somehow the least vulgar.”

Her shoulders pull up into the slightest shrug. “I mean I’m into it,” she adds.

“That’s not fair,” you tell her, “I’m not considering anything like that.”

Miyeon pulls you aside and up one of set’s staircases to nowhere, fingers warm at the crook of your elbow, and says, “well, it’s all I can fucking think about.”

Take a second for some personal reflection: you’ve never really tried to make a habit of anything and at the same time been successful. When it happens, it just kind of happens. We are what we repeatedly do.

In a way, it all started in public, this thing between you and Miyeon. Your roots are here, out with the blurs of passing people, daring to be seen, to be recognized, to be identified. You had long thought—and think, you do, particularly when doing the unthinkable—that a girl like Miyeon would steer away from the prospect; fucking you instead in private, comfort realized in the security of drawn curtains and shuttered blinds. A stark contrast to the part of your lives lived out in the open, subject to scrutiny and skepticism, unguarded from microscopic observation.

She only has everything to lose, you understand. And you aren’t more than a few paces behind her either. Reckless, she’s muttering while you sink to your knees and get your fingers up her skirt, so reckless—like this whole thing isn’t her idea.

The crazy part about all this that you actually do get caught. Not just one time either.

You’ll bring it up in discussion with Soyeon later, when you run into her at the movie’s premier event and you’ve realized the value of having a good confidant:

“I literally told you one thing,” she’ll say, hands on her hips and looking like the mother that has to call the school, has to call the parent of the window you’d shattered with a baseball. It’ll all be highly disappointing. You are unbelievable—is what she won’t be able to say, even though she’ll really, really want to—I told you not to sleep with Miyeon and you slept with Miyeon why would you sleep with Miyeon you absolute moron.

There’s the time on set: in a fucking storage closet of all places. You’ve got Miyeon laid back on a table, fucking her slowly. Her panties are in her mouth, and the toes of her foot are curling against your cheek. It starts with a kiss, which most people might consider poetic, just your lips against a heel, the narrow bend of her arch to where she’s got her delicate toes perfectly colored in pastel white; Miyeon’s too cock-addled to do anything like comment on the fact you take them between your lips, slowly, and again, sucking, kissing her feet until she laughs at the way it tickles.

“Oh my god,” a voice says. One of the production assistants. “Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry.”

There’s the time in the woods near where you’re shooting a few of the outdoor scenes. You’re stepping out of a tall brush, and Miyeon’s cheeks are so red, glistening in sweat and cum and there’s a technician running an extension cord to god knows where to hook up more lights to the rigging.

“Um,” he says, just staring and unwinding more cord.

“We were looking for her earring,” you tell him.

“In the fucking woods?” He laughs out loud, just this self-amused grunt of a laugh. “Did you find it?”

You actually can’t look him in the eye, and Miyeon is just standing there, mortified. Your forehead creases a puzzled line and you say, with absolute conviction: yes.

“Jesus christ, Miyeon.” You swivel on your stool in your dressing room. Think possibly to kneel, but you know what might happen if she sees you on your knees, supplicating.

Let the record show, you and Miyeon are on day six of your self-imposed moratorium—the ban that prohibits the two of you fucking eachother at work, so it’s not like it’s the fastest capitulation in the world either.

Miyeon does a spin, pleated hem of a navy blue plaid skirt flaring out to the sides—how do I look?

There are answers in your throat, no doubt—like sin, like fantasy, like a submissive, fuckable fantasy. Like it should be illegal.

“Uh—I mean,” you nearly stammer, massaging your thumb into your temple. It’s certainly not natural for you to be here, on the back foot, and it has Miyeon’s mouth slanting into a predictable smirk. In an almost inexcusably banal act, she puts a fingernail to her teeth and shimmies her waist so that you’re lost to the moment, tracking how the skirt’s fabric ruffles between her legs.

Is it the fact that some maniac in costume has gone and put her in a school uniform?

Yes.

That's a great deal of what’s going on here, which is a whole fucking lot. Is it the way her shoulders vanish in a tailored blazer with a nostalgia-inducing insignia above the breast pocket—her fingers poking out from the cuffs and toying at the lapels? Is it that the dress shirt beneath it is made of the cheapest cotton one could find (because the thing doesn’t really need to hold up over multiple washes) so you can see how her stomach flattens, that gentle rise in her chest, the sharp angle of her collarbones, all when the light catches it just right? There’s the stockings, dress shoes, a fucking ribbon in her hair and you’re ignoring the fact that the tie around her neck is a little loose and you might be able spin it over her shoulders and tighten your grip and—

“Cute, right?” She skips across the room and perches on your knee. Really selling it.

“I’m curious,” you say, looking for a narrow gap, something to stow away into, something that might take your mind off the fact that when you look at Miyeon, you’re transposing and overlaying images of an eleventh grade crush, and that’s not a mood you were prepared to be whipped into at just the flash of blue plaid and a charcoal blazer. “When was the last time you wore a ribbon in your hair?”

“Oh gosh.” One corner of Miyeon’s mouth frowns, ruminating. She hovers her hand up to her ponytail, twisting it gently until it bounces back into place. “It’s been such a long time actually, I don’t know, seventeen, eighteen years old?”

Okay, that’s certainly not helping. A more direct approach, perhaps: “what are you doing, Miyeon?”

“Oh,” she says, nonchalant, because isn’t it obvious, “I’m here to get fucked.”

This is trouble, and among other things, a perversion, you think, but your mouth is too dry to say any of that, and Miyeon leans in and places her fingers beneath your jaw. Tilts your chin and presses her lips to yours, gentle, feather-light.

One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. Three one-thousand. Four one-thousand.

Shifting slightly, the inside of Miyeon’s thigh presses to the outside of yours, only ever the slightest movement, and it has you sighing into her mouth. It’s impossible to decide whether you ought admire her confidence or find fault with her gall. She’s a delightful lapful—and a handful, and a mouthful—so you’ll flirt with danger, abandon those last vestiges of inhibition, and lean into the former rather than the latter.

Miyeon’s breath lands against your lips, hitching as the kiss breaks.

“Look,” you say, lip smacking back into place when she finally lets it free. There’s a response, bubbling up from your gut, because on one hand, this is the exact kind of impropriety you were hoping to avoid. And on the other, well, nothing ventured, nothing lost—you suppose. Your eyes are flicking to the top buttons of her shirt, collar agape and that gentle invitation of cleavage snuck behind it.

“Oh my god,” Miyeon says, inches from your face, and she starts to laugh. “You have grays in your beard.”

“No there aren’t.”

“I’m serious.” She wraps her hand around your cheeks, and twists your face to the vanity mirror, like it’d be helpful. “Look,” she says, twice, pulling her lip between her teeth and staring at your reflection.

“Those are stress grays,” you amend, before turning back and shifting her weight more comfortably into your lap, soft thighs straddling yours. “Just to be clear, I’m barely any older than you are.”

“Older,” she says, smiling.

“Don’t have to dwell on it.”

“I mean there’s a silver lining to that though.” Miyeon’s fingers are spread across your face, thumbs gently rubbing into your cheekbones. She’s close enough for you to forget her manager is going to come looking for her at some point or another. “Just means I can call you daddy, and it won’t be weird.”

“Uh.”

“You know,” she adds, sliding her fingers over your ears and pressing a kiss into your jaw, “while we’re doing it.”

“No, I understood that part.” You give her another once over and firm your hands on her waist to stop her from grinding her hips any further into yours. “I’m not sure it’s age that potentially makes it weird.”

“Come on,” she says, letting her voice slip into that slightly deepened register that suggests not only will she disobey you, but you’ll love every second of it. “I know you love to play with me.”

“It’s not a trick question. What are you asking for here, Miyeon?”

“Sex,” she says.

“Yes,” you answer, blinking back at her, expression skeptical. “I was there for that part of the conversation. It was about sixty seconds ago, if I recall.”

She lifts your chin, looks straight in your eyes, and asks, “and?”

“I’m just trying to puzzle out what you're telling me.” You slide your fingertips past the waist of her skirt and onto her ass. The quiet hum of satisfaction in Miyeon’s throat says you’re getting warmer. “What it is you want.”

“Any ideas?” she presses again, the lilt in her voice filling you with hundreds—the countenance behind it providing even more. Her hips grind into you further, bucking toward your waist and silencing the anxious distance between you.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Your hand snakes around the curve of Miyeon’s ass, down to where her underwear feels hot and unmistakably damp, where you can feel the shape of her lips through the fabric and the heat smoldering between them. There’s a tiny wanton whine from her throat when you circle your fingers; a sharp draw of air past her teeth when you apply a little more pressure. “Want my fingers inside of you? Hmm?”

Miyeon nods almost immediately.

You kiss her. Slide your mouth over her lips and recognize the strawberry in her lip gloss and hold onto your exhale, breathing the same air. Her eyes open first, lashes brushing yours. “You want me to fuck you, Miyeon.”

“Want you to tell me what to do,” she says, and without even running the word experimentally around her mouth, without testing its taste or the way it feels on her tongue, she fixes her dark brilliant eyes on you, saying, “want daddy to tell me what to do.”

You’ve got all this about nature and nurture running amuck in your head to the backdrop of the sound of a large cable snapping. It’s dangerous. It’s not like you, you’re not the type, you’re telling yourself, and a lot of other rubbish that isn’t concerned by the fact that Miyeon’s here, fucking dressed like this, ponytail bobbing, ribbon in her hair begging to come undone—

Lock the door, you say to her, and she does. Turn around. Take your jacket off, and she pauses first, before twisting her arms from the sleeves and folding it neatly over the back of a chair. You’ve got a hand outstretched as she walks toward you; your panties, hand them over, and she reaches down beneath her skirt, rolling her underwear down her smooth thighs, her calves, eyes never once leaving yours—watching you watch her.

Sit.

Touch yourself.

Slowly; slower—

It’s almost ridiculous. You’ve hardly even laid a hand on her, and she’s got her eyes looking up at you like you’d just set all her biological clocks an hour forward, cranked up to ten-minutes-to-midnight, and replaced all her coherent thoughts with just one simple thing: how bad she needs you to cum in her cunt.

She’s settled at the front of the vanity counter, feet against your chest, head tilting back against the mirror, and she’s gently slapping her own pussy with the pads of her fingers, covered and wet in her own anticipation. Your hands are nothing like hers—these slender, delicate things—and it’s driving her up the wall. You’re spreading her thighs, opening her up, bringing the roughness in your fingers, the heel of your palm so close. Miyeon can’t help it.

“You’re such a slut,” you tell her, watching her shove one, two fingers past the glistening lips her pussy—biting back a laugh as she starts to fuck herself slowly for you. “And already this fucking wet.”

Miyeon just smiles, eyes hooded and looking at you with such perfectly sinful intent. “I thought that’s how daddy likes his little girl.”

(Don’t get it confused: it’s never been a challenge to play a character, to be someone you are not, to emotionally identify and aspire to the details of a part. But this is different. This is seamless. This is you leaning into that space, living in it, loving it. A physical part of you. Genuine and true.)

You grapple Miyeon’s wrist, pulling her hand away from the want of her pussy, denying her all of that friction. She whines, but puts up little to no fuss when you bring her hand to her face and clear your voice of anything that doesn’t inspire authority—deliver an order, sternly, with her fingers in her mouth, suck.

“Here’s a lesson.” You click your tongue as she closes her eyes and sets her jaw in motion to clean her own slick off her nails, her knuckles. “The only thing that goes in my princess’s cunt, is daddy’s cock.”

“In that case,” Miyeon says around her fingers still between her lips, a smile spreading across all of her perfected features—voice lilting, reeling you in, sinking its teeth into your skin: I think daddy’s going to have to punish me.

Oh, you’re one step ahead of her, thinking of all the ways how, and the sound of your zipper coming undone makes Miyeon's eyes go wide with want, with need. Her petite, perfect, fuckable body still locked away behind fabric, she starts hiking her skirt even higher up her hips, lazily unfastening the buttons of her shirt.

You tell her to put her feet together, wrapping a grip onto her stockings and pulling her legs closed—twisting them to the side and letting her heels clack together over your shoulder. The gentle motion of your thumb between her thighs gets her sucking a sharp draw of air. Always so vocal Miyeon is at the slightest provocation.

Your cock is harder than it’s ever, ever been; harder yet as you tease it at the folds of Miyeon’s entrance, pushing it against sensitive skin and earning you pleased little chirrups from deep in her chest, repeating, “yes, yes, yes—”

She’s only halfway down the buttons on her shirt, collar gaping open and lolling to the sides of her soft shoulders, sliding partway downway her arms, and then it’s that fucking tie still loosely hanging around her neck—so impossibly irresistable. The motion is practiced, near effortless: you slip right into the tight embrace of her creaming cunt. When she makes it through the length of a heavy breath through pursed lips, you sink even in further.

“Oh, this pussy is fucking incredible,” you sputter, voice come to reckon with the fucking bind that is Miyeon’s body, coiling beneath your weight the deeper you cock reaches inside her. “I don’t know that I could ever punish you. Maybe I should just spoil you, princess; get on my knees and make you cum on my mouth instead—”

“No.”

“What was that?” you coax, fucking into her cunt slowly, and your little girl growls at you. You can’t help but chuckle, making a tight grasp of the tie around her neck, and start to twist.��

Miyeon’s flushed all over, eyes glassy, but emblazoned still, a spark of defiance in those deep shimmering pools that makes her all the more alluring. Her lashes flutter—whole body tensing in response—as your thighs crash into her, cock deep inside the tight grip of her cunt.

She feels amazing.

“Yes, please,” she tells you, huffing out the words and changing her tune as you begin to let her have you, let her revel in the determined rhythm of you fucking her like she’s come to expect. “God, yes, daddy please…”

It’s so easy to fuck Miyeon—muscle memory and learned behavior—so easy to sink your fingers into her ass, her thighs, her tits, wrap your arms around her waist and start fucking her so quickly it has her pussy so wet it’s not even slowing you down in the slightest when you pull harder on the tie around her neck, draw her writhing body into you, and start to use her.

“You’re fucking, god, you’re fucking tearing me open,” she tells you with her brows sinking over eyes screwed shut, “it feels so fucking good—tell me, do you like fucking me? Do you like fucking your little slut?

“Fucking love it,” you whisper against her ear.

It doesn’t even cross your mind for a second, whether she wanted to be fucked like this, wanted to be used and choked and pounded so hard her legs buckled and her muscles ached and she could barely remember her own name—she landed in your lap, flirted with this danger, both of you immediately aware of what all it entailed.

Miyeon didn’t just invite it, the girl fucking craves it.

Just like this, she’s muttering, voice barely rasping into anything audible under the weight of your grip, fuck your little slut just like this—bathing your cock in the delicious cream and slick of her pussy so that you might fuck it all back into her. When she starts moving like this, body shaking in quakes and quivers, voice woven into her mewls and moans, you know she’s so fucking close, only in want of a little encouragement—

“There you go, good girl,” you breathe against her lips, kissing them abruptly, before letting her weight fall back to the vanity counter with just the slightest release of the tie in your fist. “Cum for me, princess, I know you want to—know you want to cum all over daddy’s cock. You’re practically sobbing for me, baby. Go ahead, just cum.”

Sheltered somewhere in quiet of those sloppy, wet, lewd sounds, the score of your cock sliding in and out of Miyeon, is the strangled cry that sneaks out of her throat, gasping: “cumming, I’m fucking cumming, please, I—god.”

Accentuated by the fact that her arms are still halfway trapped in the cotton of her shirt, she can’t do a thing from underneath you. She’s near trapped under the weight, the sheer tempo of at which you’re ruining her cunt. You’re ripping your name in moans and prayers off her lips and she can hardly move beyond that slight squirm in your arms, writhe in the way you mold her to you, overcome in pleasure at how she’s left so full, perfectly remade to the shape of your cock.

Her fingers are splayed across your ribs, holding you, bracing against you, and none of it’s anything you haven’t told her before—so pretty, take it so well, your cunt’s perfect, you’re perfect, so good sweetheart—but in aggregate, taking the length your cock, taking all of you, she shatters apart.

Your hands are on her cheeks, thumbing strands of tousled hair ever-so-gently back into place, and you’re feeling the way her skin burns bright red, feeling the way she gasps for air in shallow pants, feeling her cunt clench hard around you. It’s the moments like these, where she’s delicate to touch, soothed only by your lips pressed to the tip of her nose, her forehead—finding comfort in the arm she swings over your shoulders—she’s so wildly beautiful.

“So fucking—” She lets her voice even out, and after multiple attempts, gets the words she wants in the right order: “so good, how do—so fucking good baby, how do you want? Cum. How do you want to cum?”

“Could fucking paint your pretty face,” you tell her, moving your hips back to life and fucking into her soaked, messy cunt slowly. The way you push a kiss into her soft lips—now wet and slightly swollen from how she’d been biting them—is a little at odds with the suggestion.

“Ha. I think I get it,” Miyeon starts, the shy smile filling her mouth taking over the shape of her ragged huffs and pants, “we throw daddy around a few times, and suddenly you’re afraid to cum inside me, is that it?”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s not it at all.” The fact that she’s recovered an ounce of resolve, chip steadily reappearing on her shoulder, is nothing more than a facade, and you’re drawing back the curtain, finding her body still wracked, plenty malleable, puddied and easy to manipulate with a firm grip around her waist. “Let me show you.”

“And just what is it that I’m—”

Miyeon’s voice breaks almost immediately as you turn her over in your hands. Her knuckles hit the vanity counter and her legs wobble where they land precariously on the floor. She’s so wet and well-fucked that the mess you’d made of her cunt is effortless to slip back into. You allow her more, pushing in as deep as you’ll go, faster than she can blink, faster she can think to protest. It’s the angle that makes her back arch with surprised, sudden pleasure. The depth that makes her eyes shut tight, a gasp not quite making it past her lips.

Watch.

She can see it all, in the perimeter of fluorescent bulbs, reflection staring back at her. The way her porcelain skin lights aflame. There’s sweat beading across her forehead, blonde hair darkening at its roots. Her lips are parted slightly, tender swell cushioning the bite of her teeth—her eyes are hooded, chin tilting, and she’s watching herself moan and curse as you start to fuck her. She’s perfect, and she knows she’s perfect.

You pull her skirt forward over the round of her ass, fingers sunk into the soft skin, and fuck her harder, until the counter is shaking with it, until she’s crying out, any concept of shame or embarrassment long forgotten.

“Oh, please,” she starts, settling into your cadence, feeling delighted at the way you fill her.

Her fingers are white-knuckled as she clings to the edge of the counter, and in between breathless little noises, these sharp gasps and whines or another, between the unyielding motions of your cock in her cunt, she writhes.

“Please, please, please, please make me cum again,” she barely manages, blathering and stuttering over her own words. “Please use this little cunt, fucking use me, fuck me, fill me—”

“Anything for my princess,” you say, and after pressing a long row of kisses into the curve of her spine—a heavy kiss of your lips into the sharp edge of her shoulder—you bring a hand to the back of her neck, the slippery-smooth locks of hair already bundled and begging for your fist, becoming your grip.

“Oh my god,” Miyeon mutters, watching her body bend to your will, arching backward into your cock and becoming flush all over. Her eyes flick up to yours, begging you to fill her deeper, fuck her faster, fuck her harder. “Daddy please…”

The way her cunt sleeves onto your cock is so hot, so wet, so unbelievably tight, especially when the fingers woven in her hair flex taut—and so does she—how could you ever think to do anything but?

You pull harder on her hair, tension building in the curving bow of her body, arching further and further into submission. Her face is close enough for you to kiss, to lean into her ear, to whisper, “Miyeon, baby, I’m going to make you cum again. Gonna make you cum all over my cock. Be a good girl for me and take it.”

Miyeon’s voice is flooded, drenched and soaked in meek cries. More so by the minute. She’s whining and gasping and fighting for air like she hasn’t been coached a thousand times on how to keep a clean image. Beyond the curses and filth, the nonsensical string of obscenities falling off Miyeon’s lips, it’s gratitude: “thank you, thank you, thank you, please keep fucking me, please just use me—”

It’s obscene, filthy, it’s practically pornographic–-all framed for her to see. Miyeon’s costume is still barely clinging to her tiny frame, coming off in pieces. And you’re sliding your hand across her smooth stomach, up her ribs and hooking fingers between the cups of her bra, until it comes down far enough around her waist that it simply unclasps and falls to the floor. Every time bring your hips forward, fuck your cock harder into her cunt, you track the movement of her body in the mirror: shoulders lurching, mouth gasping, tits shaking—Miyeon recoiling.

Even the ribbon in her hair can’t stand against the intensity of it, untangling from her ponytail and falling to the counter, defeated.

Beauty is a picture in motion, and Miyeon is nothing if not elegant. You slow your pace to admire her, hands at her breasts, her waist, still holding firm around her hair and curling her body into your control. She whines louder when you kiss her temple, rasping against the sweat building in her hair. “Make yourself cum for me baby, fuck your little cunt on my cock until you cum again.”

“God,” Miyeon rasps, nodding slightly against you with her eyes carefully fixed on her reflection, and she starts to roll her hips—fucking herself and choking back a whimper every time she finds where it’s mind-numbingly sensitive, where she’s wet and needy and begging for the hard shape of your cock. It’s unbelievable how desperate she ruts against you, grinding her way to her own release.

“Such a good girl for me.” You’re reaching a hand down to her cunt, the hot mess between her legs, and you’re slipping your fingers around where your cock is inside her, skating your thumb across her aching lips, barely touching her clit—

“I’m gonna cum,” she moans out, breathless, “you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

A final kiss at the hot skin beside her temple, your nose in her hair—drowning in the sweet stench of her sweat, her sex—you’re telling her, “I know I am princess,” and when you release the grip you’ve made of her hair, Miyeon collapses, palms flat over the countertop.

It’s hard to miss, all written on Miyeon’s reflection in front of you, cheeks exquisitely red, lips slacking as she cums, brows twisting together and eyes heavily lidded—and that’s just what you can see. You fuck her quivering cunt, thrusts coaxed into this reckless chase as she spasms around you—holding tight to her waist, fucking her faster and faster until your cock is aching and you’re hunched over her, telling her what she’s been dying to hear: “I'm so close to cumming in your cunt sweetheart, you'll be so filled up and perfect that way, princess.”

There’s no mistaking it. Pleasure palpable in the reflection in front of you, eyes smoldering and holding onto you. The hold she has on your cock, the vice that is her cunt around you—it shouldn’t even be possible to feel this fucking amazing—is far and away too good for you to do anything else: you grab her hips, fuck hard and fast into Miyeon’s sopping cunt, and on a thrust deep and unrelenting, you let go. You can barely even register the way your cock pulsates, firing shot after shot into her tight hole.

Miyeon’s still stuttering and gasping for breath when she feels your cum pool inside her. Even like this, wracked, writhing, and barely held together, she’s breathtaking.

“God, fuck, it’s so good,” she cries out, face still spun in pleasure, in ecstasy, feeling you spill more and more inside her. “Can feel you cumming so much, daddy.”

And that’s how you stay, pouring want and jittery contentment into the air by way of your ragged breathing alone, for the remainder of the minute, the hour, what ultimately ends up feeling far too short.

Her knees buckle and if you weren’t still pressing bruises into her hips, she’d sink to the floor, a hot mess, a real meltdown of a girl. So she remains right where she is as you soften slowly inside of her, until she has to nudge you off. And as you finally pull out, there’s cum still leaking from your slit, and you catch a glimpse of more leaking out from between her soft, reddened thighs, just a few drops that land on the floor, enough to make something inside you tighten with want.

You kiss her one last time, and say, “c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“You need to come up with a better excuse than I needed to get fucked for when you show up like you are to costume,” you say a few minutes later, dabbing at Miyeon’s forehead with a handtowel. “They won’t be too thrilled with me messing up their handiwork.”

Miyeon leans forward in your lap, reaching around your shoulders and placing kisses into the broad shape of your shoulder. “I love the way you mess me up.”

You almost open your mouth again, to lodge a complaint, but nothing comes out.

(You’ve long avoided looking backward, the introspective stuff, the kind of thinking that makes your heart begin to ache in all sorts and manners of cliche. It’s difficult to look straight at the image, to take it in all at once—so full of regret and missed chances.

But for the first time in as long as you can remember, you believe in the things you’re afraid to say. As though you’re more than the weight of all your memories, that the darkness can remind you of where light can be. This is not the end of you, you remember, this is the beginning.

As though you fell so you could land next to her.)

It hits you in the middle of a workday. Nothing cathartic or dramatic about it like you’ve come to expect. Dramatic lighting, theatrical score, the meticulous scripting from a team of writers—there’s none of that; which is how you know it’s real.

Miyeon’s watching herself on the monitor.

And there’s a part of it, you’ve come to understand, that never quite goes away, like listening to how your voice plays back on a recording, the uncertainty, those pangs of doubt—but you wonder, if perhaps, Miyeon can manage to enthrall and captivate even the greatest cynic, quiet her own insecurities and enchant even herself. She nods every now and again, wets her lips with her tongue when she hears her delivery, and furrows her brow.

It’s not like that.

The sort of girl whose kisses can spin straw to gold—taste of liquor when she’s not even had any to drink—Cassis, juniper berries, gumdrops, sugar cane and molasses, all soft and steamy and sugary sweet. Quote, unquote. That’s what you said.

Don’t—

Please look at me when I tell you I love you. Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed, you will never be lovelier than you are now, we will never be here again.

The whole studio is watching it: the triumph of your lips on hers, holding her softly and kissing her like if you closed your fingers she might shatter into a million pieces. All they did was hold the camera, and it saw what it saw.

Miyeon looks at you, rubs your knuckles with her thumb and says, “you don’t like it.”

Something’s off.

“You think we need one more take?”

(It doesn’t really make sense—the fact that you can’t put a finger on it is bothering you more than anything else. It’s clean, perfect even; smells like a swimming pool: a bleached sea salt, a flower with chemical petals; and not in a good way. Looked at from another perspective, the scene is just as it’s written, as it was rehearsed, but you’re hesitating. And you don’t know why.)

“You think we need one more,” Miyeon says again, inquisitive.

You make a face, and Miyeon squeezes your fingers.

“Yeah. Okay. You think we need one more.”

“I suppose,” you say mildly, “if it’s not too much of a hassle.”

It’s not as simple as that. At least the way you see it. It rarely is. A better guy could probably recognize what it is you’re feeling and put it into words, but you are not a better guy. Spend too much time living on the words of characters and in the confines of a scene, you start to lose sense of the bigger picture. There’s you—outside of the frame, strangely unfamiliar at times, unknowable right now. There’s Miyeon, and she’s not just gorgeous and perfect like everyone knows her to be; she’s gorgeous and perfect to you.

“Here’s what I think,” Miyeon starts, staring straight through you, a pulsing rush of longing—the whisper, irresistible, magic that could make the sanest man go mad. You just want to hear me say I love you one more time.

Everyone’s eyes are glued to the monitors, witness to the story that is you and her, but you’re looking at Miyeon, directly at her, for once not even lost in the details—simply lost in everything, like a stone down a well. It does scare you. That of all things, she might be right.

The incident, as it will later be known, is more realistically a sequence of events, but no one has ever been interested in anything other than how it ends.

(It's always the changes we don’t ask for that change everything.)

There are just a handful of scenes and shots that need to be filmed on location on an island in the Maldives, one that is just about everything you’ve grown to resent. Garishly extravagant resort, beaches of white sand so combed and manicured they yearn to be trampled, and the only locals in sight are either changing sheets or caked up in makeup and hanging around the hotel bar from the twilight hours of the evening and into the early morning. A real lovely place, you admit, maybe you’ll come back never.

It’s as if the universe cashes in on your bad karma all at once via the series of unfortunate events: your flight’s delayed, a storm turns a three hour layover into a two day nightmare, your bags get lost. And the moment you step onto the tarmac, the heat punches you right in the gut, and upon curling over in defeat, the humidity figures it’ll kick you right in the head—this all, by the way, before you find out the air conditioning in your room is fucked beyond repair and the hotel staff have no interest in helping you fix it.

When a series of mistakes has you shooting a scene over and over until you’re pretty sure it’s fruitless—that the exhaustion has brought you to your knees—you quickly find yourself starting to slip.

Miyeon’s standing next to the director, watching the scene playback, and hearing her say, “that’s better,” while everything that could ever go wrong in the history of linear time is happening is the best part of this whole debacle, if anything, for its raw comedic value.

The absolute worst of it, however, is the gaggle of bumbling entertainment journalists (the lowest of the low) following in the production’s wake. There’s a lot a ground to cover: the movie’s nearing completion, the premieres, the fact that everyone thinks you’re screwing Miyeon, the fact that you actually are—

How has working with your co-stars, Miyeon in particular, bettered your understanding of what it means to be an actor? The insinuation, if it’s even an undertone enough to call it that, you do find insulting.

Though it’s hardly the question that trips you up. It’s trifling. And when you force a smile, everyone takes your pandering at face value. Now whether it’s out of envy, confusion, plain old cynicism, possibly a mixture of the three, or just because the part of your brain associated with temperance and self control is melting at the current head index of a million and two, is unclear.

But you fuck up.

It’s under your breath, out of the corner of your mouth. It’s not even directed at anyone in particular. The challenge here—the thing that will come to ruin you in about one media cycle—is that the damn microphone clipped to your shirt is still absolutely live, and it’s broadcasting every thought that should stay quiet:

Acting? From Miyeon? Hah. Swallowing cum maybe… but acting?

You fuck up bad.

#miyeon smut #gidle smut #yuqi smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #idol x male reader

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unstable-samural · 25 days

Text

THE NEW GIRL NEXT DOOR WANTS YOU - smut

Miyeon x Male Reader

one-shot

tags: blowjob, teasing, strangers tor lovers, penetration, creampie, girl next door

[Note: English is not my native language, So possible grammar errors and more rigid prose can be found in the text. But I ask that you give it a chance, if I don't give up on this, I will work hard, bringing longer and more effortful stories:)

This is the first version, I will eventually correct whatever is wrong.]

History:

The moving team worked very hard. Fortunately it would be a quick job. One of the many advantages of being a single and minimalist man: little furniture. Y/N helped the moving team by picking up the most delicate boxes that contained electronics and fragile objects. The neighborhood was beautiful on that calm afternoon, the golden sun radiated the green grass and the white fences of the houses on the street.

"Man, I'm going to love living here", thought Y/N, sighing with satisfaction.

He noticed that the neighboring house on the right had a beautiful flowerbed. Maybe it was a kind old lady who lived there. The whole flower and decoration thing indicated that. He still didn't know any of his neighbors. Y/N cut off his thoughts and returned to his task. It didn't take long to get everything inside the house, anyway.

The interior of the residence now had some furniture scattered throughout the rooms and several boxes that needed to be opened. Y/N wasn't in a hurry, he would do everything calmly, after all, it's not like visitors were going to show up anytime soon...

Well, he was wrong about that.

While he was drinking water, the doorbell rang, slightly startling him. Y/N really thought he was going to be completely alone, at least for the first few weeks until he adjusted to the neighborhood. The person at the door was probably one of the neighbors wanting to welcome him or something. Y/N was exhausted as hell, but he couldn't start things in this new city by ignoring people like that.

To his surprise, the one on the other side of the door was a beautiful young blonde. She holding a box of chocolate.

"Hello, new neighbor! I came to welcome you to the neighborhood." She said, quite excited.

The girl was wearing a red flowery dress that highlighted her small body.

"Hello! Are you one of my neighbors?"

"I'm the girl next door. I brought this to you." She handed him the box of chocolates.

"You didn't have to do that. Thank you very much. What's your name?"

"My name is Miyeon." She smiled at him. It was a charming smile.

"Y/N."

He reached out to shake her hand, but Miyeon pulled him into a hug. Y/N couldn't help but enjoy the heat her body emanated, the sweet scent was also delirious.

"I was watching you when you were bringing the furniture into the house." She revealed it to him.

"Serious?" Y/N questioned. "I did not see you."

"You seemed focused on the task."

"It must have been because of that. Are you, by any chance, the owner of that beautiful flower bed?"

"Yes! It's mine! I've been taking care of it for about two years. It's my greatest pride!" She told him, her little eyes sparkled with joy. "It's not very common for men to pay attention to flower beds and things like that. You're quite observant, Y/N."

"I think we both are."

Miyeon laughed, her cheeks flushed.

"I hope you like the chocolates."

"They look great."

"Do you have anything for dinner at your house?" Miyeon asked.

"Actually, I was thinking about ordering a pizza."

"Save the pizza for tomorrow. I can make you dinner at my house and bring it to yours. We both eat together. What do you think?"

Y/N quickly thought that: even if he was delirious with fever he would still be unable to refuse a proposal like that.

"If it's not too much trouble, I would love that."

"Me too! Then I'll see you later."

"I'll be waiting for you."

She said goodbye to him and went to her house.

He wasted no time getting ready. Y/N ran to the bathroom to take a well-deserved hot shower. In the shower he felt silly for being so excited about that dinner, he almost looked like a 15 year boy on first date. But Miyeon was a really beautiful and attractive woman, as well as incredibly friendly. He didn't expect a blessing like that to happen so suddenly on his first day in the new house. "Miracles happen," he thought. And also, after the last relationship, he deserved to breathe new air.

Breathe new women.

Y/N played poker on his laptop sitting on the sofa in the living room. The internet would only be turned on the next day, and he was starting to feel a bit of withdrawal from not being connected. But when deciding to leave the troubled capital, he should also get used to being a little offline. All the social media shit had been fucking with his brain for a while.

"I need to learn gardening or something.", he thought.

The doorbell again. And now Y/N didn't feel fear when he heard it, but rather excitement. Y/N took the notebook off his lap and placed it on the sofa, combed his hair a little more with his fingers and went to open the door.

"I hope you like lasagna!" Miyeon exclaimed, carrying a glass baking dish with both hands.

Y/N barely managed to speak since he opened the door. She was dressed really provocatively, and acted like she didn't give a shit, totally casual. She had placed the lasagna on the kitchen counter. The two were sitting on the sofa. Miyeon was cross-legged, and the short skirt she was wearing wasn't able to hide even half of those juicy thighs.

"You're going to live alone, right?" She asked.

"Yes. Do you live alone too?"

"Correct. I used to live in the capital, but I got tired of the traffic, the people there, all the futility and stuff. My job luckily allows me to live anywhere I want."

"We're not much different then."

"You also lived in the capital?!" She asked, amazed.

"Exactly."

"Now I'm sure we'll get along great." Miyeon commented, and casually placed her hand on Y/N's knee.

It was soft and warm. A thought came over him and he imagined her sliding that hand to his thigh, and from his thigh to his groin. Just by vaguely imagining this scene, Y/N felt his dick harden inside his pants.

"You know, I was actually watching you move in. You caught my attention. In fact, I've seen you since you came here last month to look at the house." Miyeon's voice was no longer animated from before. It was now in a low and sweet tone. Sexy. "I hoped you would become my new neighbor."

"I think if I had seen you too, I would have moved here a lot quicker."

She smiled.

"You're sweet" Miyeon slid the hand that was on Y/N's knee to his thigh. "And naughty."

"Why you say that?"

"Because I can see your hard dick in your pants."

Y/N couldn't contain himself and placed his hand on Miyeon's thigh. The grip was so intense and sudden that she couldn't take it and let out a muffled moan.

"I can't control myself with you dressed like that" he said, looking intensely into her eyes.

"I don't want you to control yourself, darling." when she finished speaking she jumped into Y/N's lap. He grabbed her small waist and started kissing Miyeon on every corner of her face: cheek, mouth, chin and neck. She was totally surrendered, and felt between her legs how hard his dick was.

Y/n slid his fingers along the strap of Miyeon's crop top, feeling the soft texture of her skin under her eager touches. With a slow, deliberate movement, he lowered the strap and, to his surprise and delight, saw that she was not wearing a bra. Miyeon's small but perfectly formed breasts were exposed. Without hesitation, Y/N leaned forward and captured a nipple between his lips, sucking it voraciously as his tongue played with the sensitive tip. Miyeon arched her back in response, moaning loudly with the pleasure that coursed through her body. "Yes, baby!" she said between muffled moans.

"I love having my breasts sucked. They are sensitive. This makes me so excited." She commented, ecstatic.

As Y/N occupied himself with her tits, Miyeon felt more and more aroused, her breathing becoming heavier by the second. With hands shaking with desire, she got off Y/N's lap, her mind fixed on one thing: completely drooling over that hard, thick cock that was waiting for her. In one agile movement, she unbuttoned Y/N's pants, eager to taste what was underneath.

Miyeon played with Y/N, caressing the dick that was inside his underwear with desire. "Make him wet for me, baby," she begged, slyly. Miyeon started kissing Y/N's dick. The warm, soft lips through the cotton of his underwear gave him indescribable pleasure. "Keep going...argh!! This feels so, so good," he sighed. It didn't take long for the underwear to become damp where the glans of the cock was. Y/N let out an anticipatory moan when Miyeon released his dick. He breathed quickly when he felt the skillful caress of her lips wrapping around his cock, which was pulsing with excitement. Y/N's eyes closed instinctively, getting lost in the overwhelming sensations that Miyeon's mouth provided. Every suck, every moan of pleasure she made, every flick of her tongue, pushed him closer to the edge of absolute pleasure.

With a husky moan, Y/N pulled away from Miyeon before she made him cum, her eyes shining with lust as he made her stand. "Sit on the sofa and open your legs for me!", he ordered, and she smiled at the order. With eager hands, he lifted Miyeon's skirt, exposing her wet, pink pussy to him. Without hesitation, he dove between her legs, his tongue finding the right spot of pleasure that made her tremble with desire. Miyeon's moans echoed through the room, her mixing with the sound of wet and obscene movements that filled the air while stroking Y/N's hair.

Finally, momentarily satiated by the intensity of pleasure, Y/N sat down on the couch, her eyes burning with desire as he watched her hungry for more. With a husky, lust-filled voice, he ordered her to ride him, giving in completely to the desire that consumed them. Miyeon didn't need any further encouragement, riding Y/N with a ferocity that only increased the intensity of the pleasure they shared. Her pussy turned out to be very tight and incredibly delicious. The hip movements were incredible, the skirt was lifted to the waist, while the top was pulled down. It was beautiful the way she rode on his lap, so that Y/N didn't want to close his eyes just to see her moving smoothly and steadily on top of him.

"Daddy!" She blurted out of her mouth.

"Do you like riding your Daddy?!"

"I love it! I love it! I love it!" She moaned louder and louder.

"Just like that! Yeah! Such a good girl!"

"Argh! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Miyeon moaned following the rhythm of her hips going back and forth simultaneously. That was art!

"What you said before?" Y/N asked between moans and heavy breathing. "Your boobs are sensitive, right?"

Y/N took his back from the back of the sofa and hugged Miyeon. He could wrap his entire body around her, and that was delicious, because that was what he felt like doing with her: wrapping himself completely around Miyeon until he ejaculated.

Y/N grabbed Miyeon's waist and it was as if she already knew what he was going to do because she automatically arched her back so he could suck her boobs. This made her go crazy immediately. "So good..." she moaned. Miyeon started to ride faster as she became delirious with pleasure.

"Like this! Keep sucking my little tits, Daddy! Oh!How naughty you are! You suck so good!"

Y/N squeezed Miyeon's ass tightly while licking one of her nipples without stopping. She was moaning incredibly loudly.

"Slap my ass, Daddy!"

"Ask again!"

"Spank my ass, Daddy. Slap it until it turns red, please!" She screamed.

He slapped her while she rode frantically. Y/N was going crazy with so much pleasure.

"I'm going to cum!" He groaned in her ear.

"Cum inside me, baby! Let's cum together!"

"I can?"

"Yes! I'm taking the pills.

Y/N thrust her hips making her accelerate at a pace she had no control over.

"I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum!" She said.

"Cum for me!"

"I'm going to cum on your cock, Daddy!" She screamed, then wrapped her arms around Y/N's back, scratching him in the act.

Miyeon flexed her thighs on his lap as her pussy squirted, gyrating her hips and rolling her eyes in pleasure. Those movements involved all the sensitive receptors in Y/N's dick, and that was the end for him, cumming inside her, pressing Miyeon's body against him, while she said:

"How delicious! I feel your hot cum inside me... Uhhh!" Her entire body shook. "Now it was dripping..."

She remained astride him for a few moments longer, while cum slowly dripped down her pale thighs. Y/N kissed her, slowly and tenderly.

"That was amazing!" He said. His body was completely relaxed and the brain had reset itself. Little by little reality returned to his mind.

Miyeon got off his lap and it was a surprise for both of them to see that his dick was still a little hard.

"Can you handle another round later?" She asked, giving him a teasing look. "I haven't felt this hot for someone in a long, long time."

"We can have sex after dinner. Now I'm starving... Damn, the lasagna must have gotten cold!"

"Do you know what the second best thing is to sex?" She asked, trying to hide a laugh.

"Hmm, i don't think so."

"Microwave!"

377 notes · View notes

fillinforlater · 1 year

Text

One-Shot Masterlist

The is the part of my Masterlist with every one-shot story that will (most likey) not get a squeal, sorted by group. It starts off with how my original Masterlist was sorted, so scroll down to find you favorite idol/group. For bigger, orgy-type smuts with multiple idols (2+), look at the (features), though some are in Series' ;)

IZ*ONE One-Shots are in my IZ*ONE Masterlist, all series' are in my Series Masterlist!

IZ*ONE MASTERLIST HERE

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Stats: 77 Links; 50 Stories linked; 40 Groups with 108 Idols written

GFRIEND/VIVIZ

Yerin - Say It Again

Eunha, Umji - Commas, Colons, Cumming

Sinb, Eunha - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 1)

Sowon, Yuju, Yerin, Eunha - Vexatious (orgy, 17some) (futa!Eunha)

ITZY

Yeji - Dazed (ft. Yoojung)

Yeji, Yuna - C.Ollection (super orgy, 10some)

Yuna - Maknae Royale (orgy, 9some)

Lia - (T)highly likely

Chaeryeong - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Lia - Series Masterlist (Phone)

Weki Meki

Yoojung - Dazed (ft. Yeji)

Yoojung - Carry a Stranger (Quickie)

Rina - Vexatious (orgy, 17some)

Doyeon - Series Masterlist (Possession of the Queen)

I.O.I

Yoojung - Dazed (ft. Yeji)

Yoojung - Carry a Stranger (Quickie)

Somi - Let It All Out (Quickie)

Somi, Chungha - Plan B

Somi - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Somi - Maknae Royale (orgy, 9some)

Doyeon - Series Masterlist (Possession of the Queen)

Mina - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

Chaeyeon - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

TWICE

Dahyun - Commitment

Dahyun - Scandal (Quickie)

Dahyun, Mina, Sana - Kim Corruption: The Video Version

Mina, Tzuyu - C.Ollection (super orgy, 10some)

Mina, Sana - Four Cherries (IZ*ONE + TWICE 5some)

Mina, Nayeon - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Momo, Chaeyoung - Hot Helping Hands

Momo - Teased Promotion (Quickie)

Mina - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 1)

Sana - Series Masterlist (Phone)

Nayeon - Series Masterlist (Phone)

Tzuyu - Series Masterlist (Phone)

Jeongyeon - Series Masterlist (Phone)

aespa

Karina - Do-Nothing-Day (fluff)

Karina - Mildly Unfair (ft. Wonyoung, Eunbi)

Winter - LOYAnaL (Quickie ft. Chaewon)

Winter - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

NingNing - The Pull (ft. Hyewon)

Winter, Karina - Vexatious (orgy, 17some) (futa!Karina)

Giselle - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon Series - Season 1)

Karina - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon Series - Season 2)

Dreamcatcher

Yoohyeon, Sua, Gahyeon - Labyrinth of the Six (Everglow vs Dreamcatcher 7some)

Yoohyeon, Sua - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Gahyeon - Maknae Royale (orgy, 9some)

Handong, Siyeon, Dami - Vexatious (orgy, 17some) (futa!Handong)

JiU - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon Series - Season 1)

WJSN

Exy - New Lyrics

Luda - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon Series - Season 1)

EVERGLOW

E:U, Sihyeon, Aisha - Labyrinth of the Six (Everglow vs Dreamcatcher 7some)

Yiren - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Yiren - Maknae Royale (orgy, 9some)

Yiren - Series Masterlist (Phone)

fromis_9

Jiheon, Chaeyoung, Nagyung - C.Ollection (super orgy, 10some)

Hayoung - The Gamer and the Pornstar (ft. Sakura of IZONE)

Hayoung, Nagyung - Vexatious (orgy, 17some)

Jiheon - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon Series - Season 2)

IVE

Yujin - Inspection Day (ft. Eunbi, Chaewon) TW

Yujin - C.Ollection (super orgy, 10some)

Gaeul - Beautiful, Beautiful Power (futa!Gaeul)

Gaeul - Paradise (fluff/angst)

Gaeul - Pink Sheets of the Gangbang Queen (Quickie)

Rei - Two Selfies (Quickie)

Rei - Two Selfies and a GIF

Liz - Perfection, We Find

Wonyoung, Rei, Gaeul - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Wonyoung - Maknae Royale (orgy, 9some)

Yujin - Series Masterlist (Eleven to One-Universe)

Yujin - Series Masterlist (T[w]o find love)

Gaeul - Series Masterlist (T[w]o find love)

Gaeul - Series Masterlist (Blonde)

Rei - Series Masterlist (T[w]o find love)

Rei - Series Masterlist (Double Stacked)

Kep1er

Xiaoting - Changer (Quickie)

Xiaoting - To Share A Drink (ft. Shuhua & Yuqi)

Xiaoting - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Xiaoting, Yujin - Highkey (Quickie)

Dayeon - Dayeons Disciplinary Diary (with Chaehyun & Xiaoting)

Hikaru, Bahiyyih, Youngeun, Yeseo - A Keplian Rocket (Quickie)

Xiaoting - Series Masterlist (T[w]o find love)

Xiaoting - Series Masterlist (On her)

Chaehyun - Series Masterlist (T[w]o find love)

Chaehyun - Series Masterlist (Double Stacked)

Dayeon - Series Masterlist (T[w]o find love)

Yujin - Series Masterlist (T[w]o find love)

Mashiro - Series Masterlist (T[w]o find love)

Mashiro - Series Masterlist (A member for the members)

CLC

Seungyeon - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Yujin - Series Masterlist (T[w]o find love)

LOONA

Heejin - In Vino Veritas (Quickie)

Heejin - The Real Daddy (Quickie) (futa!Heejin)

Gowon - Revelation in a Shower

Yeojin - You asked for it

Yeojin, Jinsoul - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Yeojin - Maknae Royale (orgy, 9some)

Heejin - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

Hyunjin - Series Masterlist (On her)

LE SSERAFIM

Chaewon - Four Cherries (IZ*ONE + TWICE 5some)

Chaewon - LOYAnaL (Quickie ft. Winter of aespa)

Chaewon - Inspection Day (ft. Eunbi, Yujin) TW

Chaewon, Sakura - Fanmating (3Kim Quickie ft. Minju)

Chaewon, Sakura - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Sakura - Legendary Cookies (IZ*ONE 6some)

Yunjin, Kazuha - When Life Gives You Bandmates, Make A Mess Out Of Them

Yunjin, Kazuha - HCHQ - Double Team (futa!idols)

Chaewon - Series Masterlist (My Kinky Wife)

Sakura - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 1 & 2)

Kazuha - Series Masterlist (On her)

Yunjin - Series Masterlsit (My Kinky Wife)

Red Velvet

Yeri - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

Yeri - Maknae Royale (orgy, 9some)

Irene - Series Masterlist (On her)

woo!ah!

Nana - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

(G)I-DLE

Shuhua, Yuqi - To Share A Drink (ft. Xiaoting)

Miyeon - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Minnie, Yuqi, Miyeon - To Glide (idol x idol x idol)

Minnie - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

Shuhua - Series Masterlist (Phone)

Miyeon - Series Masterlist (On her)

StayC

Isa - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

gugudan

Mina - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

Rocket Punch

Yeonhee - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

Girls’ Generation

Tiffany, Sooyoung - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Yoona - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

DIA

Chaeyeon - Series Masterlist (Spaceship: Horizon - Season 2)

Weeekly

Monday - Series Masterlist (On her)

BLACKPINK

Rose - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Rose - The Interview

Jennie - Series Masterlist (On her)

Apink

Bomi - Series Masterlist (Phone)

NewJeans

Minji - Dr. Minji (Quickie)

Minji, Hanni - Glossy Friendship (futa!Minji)

Minji - Series Masterlist (On her)

Hanni - Series Masterlist (On her)

KARD

Jiwoo - Helping my divine friend with something although she could help herself because I’m such a nice guy but I really misjudged things and now they go wrong

cignature

Jeewon - Fresh, Right from the Source

Oh My Girl

Arin - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Yooa - GAMBLE (futa!Yooa x Female Reader)

Soloist

IU - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

MAMAMOO

Hwasa - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

NMIXX

Sullyoon - Just Testing (super orgy, 31some, scroll down for link)

Sullyoon - SULLied MINd (ft. Minju)

LIGHTSUM

Sangah, Chowon - It takes two to shut her up (futa!Chowon)

Purple Kiss

Swan - Maknae Royale (orgy, 9some)

Goeun - Vexatious (orgy, 17some)

tripleS

Sohyun - Series Masterlist (A member for the members)

Pixy

Sua - Vexatious (orgy, 17some)

Lovelyz

Sujeong - Vexatious (orgy, 17some)

TRI.BE

Hyunbin - Vexatious (orgy, 17some)

Link for Just Testing

1K notes · View notes

senp1i · 3 months

Text

(G)-Idle Yuqi x Male reader

Words: 4175 req: @dav1233555

The deafening screams and cheers of the fans were still ringing in Yuqi's ears as she finally staggered off stage, her members similarly buzzing with adrenaline energy around her.

But despite the adrenaline still pumping through her blood, the person on Yuqi's mind in this moment wasn't one of her G-IDLE members, or even her fans...it was him - her boyfriend who she hadn't seen in months thanks to their conflicting schedules and due to her world tour.

She had resigned herself to their usual lengthy separation after shows, only able to stay connected through short, delayed phone calls and video chats. It was the new normal when you both had demanding careers in different countries. But then yesterday he texted, out of the blue that he flew out and would be at this Seoul show to surprise her, and Yuqi hadn't stopped smiling since.

Weaving through the organised backstage chaos, she scanned the crowds of staff urgently, not even bothering to change yet. Where was he? Her stomach fluttered with a mixture of anxiety and nerves. What if she misunderstood and he wasn't actually...

And then she spotted him - leaning casually against a concrete wall looking unfairly hot in dark jeans and a black tshirt that hugged his tall, bulky frame. He was watching her approach with that smile she had missed for months, the one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners like a crescent moon and her heart skips several beats.

"Oh my god!, you're actually here!" Yuqi squealed, launching herself at him recklessly. Strong arms caught her, spinning her in a circle as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She was dimly aware of people probably staring, but she didn't care one bit. Laughing, he set her down gently. "Of course I'm here baby! You didn't think I would miss your show in Seoul did you?" His large hands lingered on her hips, thumbs just barely grazing the strip of bare skin between her “tank top” and leather pants.

"Ahem!"

The unexpected loud throat clearing jolted them back to semi-coherent reality. Breaking apart awkwardly, Yuqi felt her cheeks flame as she met the dancing backup singer's amused smirk. Whoops.

"Maybe we should continue this somewhere more private?" Y/N suggested, equally red if not more but his eyes still heated. Yuqi quickly agreed, grabbing his hand to lead him away before they scared any other staff members.

They bid goodbye to her members, who sent them off with eyebrow waggles and whistles. Soyeon made some cheeky comment about using protection that Yuqi pointedly ignored. There were more important things on the brain right now, like fucking her boyfriend into the next life….

The sexually charged tension from earlier snapped back instantly once alone in the car. Yuqi just couldn't keep her hands to herself - after being deprived of his touch for so long, she desperately needed to feel him. Starting innocently on his thigh, her hand wandered higher each red light, loving his sharp inhales when she "accidentally" touched the front of his jeans.

"Fuck..." he choked out, grabbing her wrist before she made contact. "Behave, unless you want me to wreck this rental..."

Yuqi just bit her swollen bottom lip, eyes dancing, this was going to be fun...

By some miracle they arrived at her apartment intact. They barely shut the front door before crashing together again like magnets. Clothes disappeared rapidly between sloppy kisses. His shirt hit the floor, followed by her half-zipped leather pants stumbling down the hall. Falling sideways onto the unmade bed finally skin to skin, all remaining rational thoughts out the window.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he allowed himself a long appreciative look at the gorgeous naked woman before him. From her flushed face and kiss-bitten lips, over smooth collar bones to perky round tits peaked in lust, down the feminine curve of her waist to those sexy black lace panties...

His heated gaze snapped back up to meet her own wandering one, catching her shamelessly ogling the bulge in his tented boxers. He smirked.

"Enjoying the view, baby?"

"Mmhmm..." Yuqi purred, shifting closer until her lips just barely grazed the shell of his ear.

"Though I think you're still a bit overdressed down there..."

Not needing any further encouragement, she wrapped one delicate hand around his considerable length through the thin fabric - hard as steel and already leaking in anticipation. Groaning, his head dropped back against the sheets at that first tantalising contact.

"Fuck, I missed you," he grit out. Surging up to capture her grinning lips again, he kissed her deeply, tongues sliding. His hands slid down to grip her lace-covered ass, hauling her tighter against him until she could feel every hard ridge of cock.

Breaking their heated lip-lock with a gasp as one thick finger slipped unexpectedly under those panties to drag through her slick folds, Yuqi's eyes fluttered closed.

"Oh yes, just like that..."

Easily sliding first one, then a second digit into her welcoming heat, he watched in a haze as she began to slowly fuck herself on his hand. Shoving those same fingers upwards, he simultaneously rubbed her swollen clit, smirking when her inner walls instantly clenched tighter at the dual sensations.

"Fuck baby you're dripping...Can't wait to feel this tight little pussy squeezing my cock again." The gravelly words against her ear made a more slick gush, drenching his pumping fingers.

"Mmm what's...ah!...stopping you?" She managed to gasp out between moans. The delicious tension coiled tighter and tighter in her core, right on the brink...

And then suddenly, maddeningly he withdrew his fingers. Snapping her eyes open, she whined in frustrated protest - but then caught the positively horny glint in his hooded gaze. Maintaining eye contact, he slowly, deliberately brought those slick fingers to his mouth. A deep groan rumbled in his broad chest as he licked them clean of her juices.

"Mm delicious as always, baby. But it would be a damn shame if this ended too quickly..."

With unfair ease he flipped them so she was on her back, caged between strong arms. Reflexively Yuqi spread her legs in blatant invitation, aching and empty. But instead of lining himself up, he shifted downwards. Large hands pushed her thighs further apart, baring her glistening pussy.

"I think you deserve a reward first for that killer show tonight..."

Yuqi barely processed his husky promise before she felt the soft heat of his tongue drag firmly from her leaking entrance up to circle her aching clit.

"Oh fuck!" Her fingers instantly tangled almost painfully in his hair, hips bucking. Humming approvingly at her reaction, he gripped her waist with steely strength to hold her still.

"Been way too fucking long since I got to properly taste this pretty pussy..."

Then he dove back in with shameless enthusiasm, alternating broad licks with tight circles concentrated right around her swollen clit. Yuqi saw literal stars behind her clenched eyelids. When he sealed his lips around that straining bundle of nerves to suck firmly, she nearly convulsed right off the bed.

"Yes yes yes just like that oppa!" she heard herself babbling mindlessly. The filthy endearment she knew drove him wild always slipped out unfiltered in moments like this. As expected, his answering groan reverberated straight to her clenching core. So close...

But once again, just before she toppled over the cliff's edge into oblivion, he stopped. Sitting back on his heels with a smug grin that she wanted to slap off his handsome face.

"Fucking TEASE!" she accused in a breathless whine, chest heaving as she kicked his chest gently. His chuckle came out strained, cock visibly throbbing almost angrily behind those damned boxers.

"Now now, watch that naughty mouth babygirl..." He mock scolded. When she just scowled, he arched an eyebrow.

"What do good girls say?"

Huffing at the game but deciding to play along, Yuqi relaxed back against the sheets, letting her thighs fall open in unmistakable invitation. Biting her lower lip coyly, she met his darkening gaze through her lashes.

"Please make me cum with your cock oppa..." she whispered.

His lips crashed back to hers roughly. "That's my good girl," he rasped when they finally broke for air. Gripping her hips hard enough to leave fingertip bruises, he guided his painfully swollen length through her slick folds before sinking into her sloppy heat. Their twin groans echoed loudly in the room.

"Fuckkk you feel even better than I remember baby," he praised through gritted teeth, buried to the hilt inside her silken pussy. Restraint evident in every quivering muscle, he gave her a moment to adjust while she revelled at having this part of him back where he belonged.

Propping himself up on forearms braced on either side of her head, he began a slow retreat. Their heated gazes locked, both holding breath...Only to gasp it back out sharply as he snapped his hips forward, filling her completely again. Yuqi saw literal stars at the perfect angle dragging along her g-spot.

"Oh yes, just like that oppa!"

Needing no further encouragement he quickly built an aggressive rhythm - almost brutal snap of his hips punctuated by the lewd sound of skin slapping on skin. Interspersed with their mingling moans and curses were wet noises from her sopping pussy greedily swallowing every vein-lined inch again and again.

Fingers tangling almost too-tightly in her fanned black hair, he claimed her bitten lips in a messy clash of tongues and teeth. Breaking away with a gravelly groan, his head dropped to mouth wetly at the slender column of her arched throat.

"Fuck you take me so well Yuyu... Gonna make you cum so hard on my cock."

She could only mewl affirmatively, nails raking red trails down his flexing back at each punishing plunge. Tilting her hips up sharply, she eagerly met his every thrust, inner tension coiling impossibly tight. So fucking close...

Sensing her impending release, he shifted angles - somehow hitting even deeper. One large hand left her hair to slip between their sweat-slick bodies, fingers instantly finding her neglected clit to rub hard, fast circles in time with his pounding hips.

"Be a good girl and cum for oppa..." he commanded, pinching the swollen nub ruthlessly. That bit of pain/pleasure pushed her shrieking over the edge - cunt spasming violently around his relentless cock still hammering into her throughout the endless pulses of ecstasy.

Vision whiting out, Yuqi was only vaguely aware of his gravelly praises murmured against her temple as she slowly floated back down.

"So fucking gorgeous when you cum baby..."

She mewled when he carefully withdrew his still rock-hard length, her sensitive walls fluttering around sudden emptiness. But he kept her thighs cradled open, massaging the trembling muscles soothingly.

"Think you can give me another sweet girl?" His cock prodded just barely back inside her sopping entrance, teasing them both. Still breathing hard, Yuqi managed to nod eagerly.

"Want you...to cum inside me next," she affirmed huskily. That lusty glint returning tenfold, he surged back into her welcoming heat with a loud groan.

"Fuck yes... Take this cock just like that."

Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, nails biting in with each pleasurable drag along her sensitised walls. When he made to pull out again, she locked her ankles behind his thrusting ass - keeping him buried balls deep.

Breaking their messy kiss with an approving chuckle, he carefully flipped them without severing their intimate connection. Now straddling his hips, Yuqi braced both hands on his chiselled chest as she began working her still-trembling thighs to ride him. Slowly at first, loving the delicious stretch of her stuffed pussy around his girth.

But soon she built up eager speed, tits jiggling wildly with each rise and fall. His large hands anchored bruisingly on her waist, guiding each slick slide along his entire length. The lewd sound of their coupling filled the room.

"Fuck yes, just like that Yu. Ride my cock..." One hand left her hip to roughly palm a bouncing tit, pinching her tightened peak. Whimpering as sparks shot straight down, she ground her hips tighter. So deep... Chasing that peak again she slipped one hand between them, finding her swollen clit and rubbing urgent circles around the sensitive nub.

Imminent orgasm rolled hot at her core for the second time. Leaning down without losing rhythm, her lips found his ear.

"M'close again oppa," she panted, clenching teasingly along his thickness. "I want you to fill me up with your cum..."

His answering groan sounded pained, cock jerking inside her. His bruising grip yanked her down hard once, twice more before she felt the hot pulses of his release coat her fluttering inner walls. That sensation tipped her over too - cunt spasming erratically around him, drawing out every drop as she moaned her climax.

Chests heaving, Yuqi collapsed against him, their mixed juices already seeping onto his thighs. His softening cock slipped free and she hummed at the loss. Propping up slightly to meet his dazed eyes, she deliberately dragged two fingers through the slippery combination of their orgasms before bringing them to her puffy lips. Maintaining eye contact, she licked them clean with a tiny moan.

"Mmm delicious oppa." Ignoring his halfhearted swat for her teasing, she giggled against his neck placatingly.

After a few moments catching their breath, he gently manoeuvred her Jello-like limbs off him towards the bathroom. Under the warm spray he carefully cleaned every inch of her thoroughly used body himself. The loving tenderness made Yuqi's chest squeeze almost painfully. She wished they could stay in this little bubble together indefinitely, ignoring the outside world...

But eventually prune-like fingers made them move from the cooling water. Towelling off, Yuqi noticed the mess of clothes still thrown haphazardly from front door to bed. Slipping into his discarded tshirt like a micro dress, she padded towards the kitchen to whip up some food.

They cooked a simple pasta dish together, conversation flowing easily about everything and nothing. His arms wrapped around her from behind while tomatoes simmered or noodles boiled, chin hooking casually over her shoulder. Unable to resist, Yuqi tilted her head giving him access to nip and suck marks along the curve of her neck. Things nearly got derailed onto the kitchen floor at one point.

Later stuffed full of oily pasta, they collapsed sideways on her couch not even bothering to get dressed yet. Half paying attention to some drama rerun, Yuqi drew nonsensical patterns across his bare chest with a fingernail. The occasional rumble of his laughter vibrated against her cheek where it lay tucked under his arm. Everything just felt so right.

As the moonlight fading towards early sunrise outside though, reality began creeping back in. Stomach sinking, Yuqi realised she had no idea how long they actually had left together before...

"When does your flight leave?" She tried to keep her tone light despite the sudden ache blooming behind her ribs. His sigh ruffled her hair.

"9am." Glancing at her phone screen, she calculated barely 5 hours now remained in their little haven. Sensing her mood shift, he hugged her tighter against his side.

"It's not goodbye forever though, okay Yuyu? I'll visit again as soon as I can get more time off work, I promise. We'll figure this out."

Still she had to bite her lip hard to keep sudden tears at bay. Sucking in a deep breath, she sat up abruptly before the dark thoughts could take hold. Grabbing his hand off her waist, she fixed a cheeky grin on her face.

"Well no point moping about it now huh? We've still got a few hours left to enjoy!" Not giving him a chance to react, she dragged him stumbling back towards the rumpled bed, already shrugging his oversized tee off one shoulder...

Over the next hours they proceeded to make more thorough use of every surface of her apartment, switching positions and places continuously. By silent mutual agreement, they didn't speak about his leave again, choosing to stay locked in each other's eyes or connected by roaming mouths and hands instead. Committing every muffled moan and pleasured gasp to memory for the next lonely stretch that loomed ahead.

All too soon however, the dreaded alarm on her phone shrilly announced it was time. A heavy silence surrounded the bedroom where they lay tangled up, hearts still racing from their last frantic fuckery not even 10 minutes prior.

As if putting it off could somehow stop the inevitable, they lingered longer under the sheets sharing soft, slow kisses. But his return flight wouldn't wait, responsibilities in another country calling insistently. So finally with a deep sigh he untangled their limbs and rose to gather scattered clothes. Yuqi couldn't bring herself to move yet, just watching silently with the sheet held over her bare boobs.

Once dressed, her Y/N, sat back on the edge of the mattress, fingers combing gently through her tangled hair.

"Come on baby, don't look at me like that," he cajoled softly. "This isn't forever, just a few more months."

Yuqi bit her lip, trying and failing to force a smile. His warm palm cupped her cheek, thumb swiping away a stray tear before it could fall.

"Promise you'll video chat me the minute you land?" she asked in a small voice. He smiled gently.

"Of course. And I'll be back to visit again before you know it." Ducking his head, he kissed her tenderly. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away for too long."

A moment passes as they stare at each others eyes, lost, "I love you, you know..." The whispered words blurt out before she could second guess them. It was the first time either had actually voiced the emotion out loud. His answering smile practically lit up the room.

"I love you too," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing. Happiness bubbled up Yuqi's chest and she dragged him down into a slick kiss.

Too soon though, her phone alarm blared again, signalling it was time to depart for the airport. With a reluctant sigh he gently extracted her clinging limbs from around his shoulders.

"C'mon baby, don't make this harder," he chided without any real heat. Shouldering his backpack, he kept an arm wrapped securely around her waist as they made their way out to the idling taxi. The ride passed in near silence, her hand clinging almost desperately to his larger one the whole way.

At the busy terminal, he checked his bag through to the gate before turning to properly say goodbye. Yuqi fiddled anxiously with the hem of his shirt hanging around her thighs - the nearest thing to a security blanket for when he was gone. Sensing her distress, he tucked a knuckle under her chin, tipping her face up.

"Hey, no more tears okay? This is just see you later." lowering his head he kissed her sweetly. When they separated, Yuqi took a deep breath and fixed a teasing pout on her face.

"Fine. But you better keep your promise to video chat me the minute you land, mister." She accentuated the warning with a playful poke to his chest. He barked out a laugh.

"Yes ma'am. Though with the time difference it might be pretty late."

"Don't care," Yuqi insisted stubbornly. "I'll keep my phone volume all the way up. I expect your handsome face on my screen bright and early."

Overhead the boarding call for his flight crackled through the intercom. Glancing regretfully towards his gate, her boyfriend swept her into one last rib-creaking hug.

"Last chance to cram me into your suitcase," Yuqi mumbled into his shoulder lamely. His body shook against hers with another sad chuckle.

"Tempting. But I'd have a hell of a time explaining that to airport security not to mention your members and company." Pulling back, he kissed her forehead lingeringly. "Get home safe baby. I'll call you as soon as I land, I promise."

Nodding, not trusting her voice anymore, Yuqi stepped back out of his embrace. Their joined hands clung together a heartbeat longer before finally slipping free. With one last devastating smile over his shoulder, her boyfriend handed the gate attendant his ticket and disappeared down the boarding tunnel.

Shoulders slumping, Yuqi slowly meandered her way back out of the airport in a daze, thankfully no one recognized her this early in the morning. She kept glancing instinctively for his tall figure every few yards before the painful reality sank in all over again that he was really gone. The taxi ride back home felt endless, bottom lip raw and bitten between her teeth against the threat of more tears escaping.

By the time she let herself back into her empty, too-quiet apartment, eyes burning with exhaustion, the glowing screen of her phone read nearly 1 pm stilll no message yet, but she hadn't really expected one. With the lengthy flight plus time difference, it would probably be hours still until he landed and made it through customs.

Curling up in the centre of her big, cold bed, Yuqi clutched one of his leftover shirts that still smelled faintly of his cologne. She forced her eyes closed, willing sleep to come and temporarily dull the hollow ache in her chest.

Sometime later she gradually registered the buzz of vibration and a familiar ringtone. Bolting upright, heart suddenly racing, she fumbled to accept the call - not even bothering to check the time. His gorgeous, rumpled face filled the video screen, baseball cap pulled low and flashing that killer sleepy smile.

"Hey you," he greeted warmly. "Told you I'd call."

"I didn't actually think you'd manage it tonight, isn't it like 3am there or something?" Yuqi asked, unable to keep from mirroring his smile. He shrugged, stifling a yawn.

"Yeah about that. But I missed you already so I didn't wanna wait 'til morning."

Her heart swelled two sizes, previous gloom vanishing. They stayed on video chat for nearly an hour just catching each other up and chatting aimlessly. More than once she caught him yawning widely or eyes drifting closed before snapping back alert.

"Okay babe I better let you get some sleep," Yuqi finally relented, taking pity on his obvious jet lag. He started to protest but she cut him off. "We can talk more later after you get a nap. I'm not going anywhere."

Nodding reluctantly he blew her a silly kiss through the screen. "Sweet dreams beautiful. Talk to you in a few hours."

Ending the call, Yuqi fell back against her pillows feeling lighter than she had any right to. Nothing had really changed - they were still continents apart just like before. But hearing his voice again and seeing him settle safely back into his own bed made the looming separation more bearable somehow. Snuggling back under the sheet that still smelled faintly of his cologne, she drifted easily off to sleep herself.

Over the next weeks they fell into a familiar routine - daily phone calls or video chats when their schedules aligned, occasional cute selfies or candid snaps throughout work days. The time difference made things tricky but they made it work.

During one such call about a month later, Yuqi was in the middle of recounting some silly prank Minnie had pulled on Soojin when she noticed him start to shift restlessly.

"Babe are you even still listening?" she accused, one eyebrow raised.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, sorry you just...distracted me for a sec," he mumbled, cheeks faintly flushed.

"Oh really? What could possibly be more interesting than my story?" Yuqi challenged.

Clearing his throat, he gave her an uncharacteristically shy smile. "That shirt you're wearing is just really familiar…”

Glancing down, she realised with a start she had subconsciously thrown on his oversized tee that she'd stolen, the hem hitting mid-thigh as she sat cross-legged on the bed. Suddenly she matched his blush.

"Oh! I guess I just grabbed it without thinking when I got dressed earlier..." She trailed off, teeth catching her lower lip. An inviting heat entered her boyfriend's gaze, making her stomach swoop deliciously.

"Mm I like it," he says nodding . "Maybe flip the camera down and give me a little spin? Remind me what I'm missing..." His voice dropped lower and Yuqi suppressed a shiver...

a/n; not really a fan of gidle, also havent seen any content other than their music so this might be a little... off, sorry about that lol, tho hope u enjoy

#idle smut #yuqi smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #fafic smut #kpop fanfic #male reader smut #gidle yuqi #song yuqi #yuqi x reader #girl group smut #female idol smut #one shot

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elryuse · 8 months

Text

MOONLIT SEDUCTION

MIYEON X MALE READER

Tags : Co-worker, Teasing, Seduction, Creampie

It was late at night, you and your co-workers were busy finishing all of the left over papers that have been given by your boss. Everybody was hella tired, including yourself. Your whole body was so stiff, and your eyebags were so black and lifeless. All you can think about is having a nice cold glass of beer to make all of the stress go away.

So After you're done with your work. You asked all of your co-workers to have a nice drink at a nearby Gukbap restaurant. And without any hesitation, all of your co-workers agreed. And so the night went on. You're currently having a big cold pint of beer, followed by a nice warm bowl of Gukbap, a bowl of steaming hot rice, and a platter of banchan at the table.

The moment the soup and rice touches your tounge, it immediately warms your soul like never before. The feeling was so cozy not to mention, when you followed it by drinking some cold glass of beer. The feeling was just majestic and refreshing. Your co-workers are also enjoying the atmosphere of the restaurant as well.

Not to mention this particular co-worker of yours. You kinda forget about her name. But if you're not wrong her name is something starting with Miyeon or something. But not gonna lie. She's looking beautiful af tonight. I mean she's not wearing her usual office look. She instead changes her clothes to something a bit more revealing and a bit sensual.

"Hi there"?

"O-oh Hi".

"Do you remember my name"?

"U-uhmm... I kinda forgot sorry".

"Ahh crap... That's alright... I'm Miyeon... And you are"?

"Oh.. Y/n.. Park Y/n".

"Oooh... You're that new kid"?

"Ah yes.. Ahahah".

"Well... I hope you're doing your best alright".

"You gott itt".

As she sways her way to your other co-workers. You can actually see something that you shouldn't see. Because her dress was so short and tight. Every time she leans on someone. You kinda see her panties and a little bit of her ass as well. You were kinda shy and wanted to tell her, but she was just enjoying her time. So you didn't really bother to tell her.

This party continued, until it was basically midnight. And everybody was pretty much Deadass drunk and tired. So after helping your co-workers to get home safely. You were left out there with none other than Miyeon. You kinda forget that she didn't go home yet, so the whole situation was pretty awkward actually.

"So... It's just us left huh"?

"Y-yeah... ".

"Hmm... Well I think it's time to go home... It's getting late".

"Y-yeah you're right Noona".

"Hey.. Uhm... Can you possibly... Accompany me back home? I swear it's pretty close to here.. I'm scared to go home at this hour by myself".

"O-oh O-okay.. I-if it's alright with you.. ".

" *chukle* I'll be more than welcome to be accompanied by a cute guy like you Y/n... *grab your hand* Alright... Let's grab a taxi".

"O-okay".

WELL... THIS IS AWKWARD.

"What are you waiting for? *chukle* Get inside dummyy".

"O-okayy".

Inside the Taxi. Miyeon was basically holding on to your hand tightly. It was awkward yet comforting for you. Especially knowing that you'll never do something like this in your life. She was very playful and even teased you pretty much the whole trip. She started playing around with her hands by touching and rubbing your hands. Slowly going down and closer to your crotch.

Before she finally stops. And giggles at your cute reaction.

"Are you horny baby"?

"N-noona not here and not nowww"!!

"What's wrong.. The driver won't hear us don't worry".

"Stopp... This is wrong... I don't even know you yet".

"So what"??

Miyeon suddenly grabbed a hold of your erected cock. Before admiring how big it has gotten. She giggles and licks her lips as if a predator was locked on to its prey. She suddenly gets closer to you.. And she suddenly kisses your neck.

" *mwah* "

" *shocked* Whaaa... ".

"Hehe your reaction is so goddamn cutee".

"P-please stop Noona".

"Nuh uhh".

/sorry to bother you two.. But... We're here/

"O-oh Thanks sir".

"Thank you Sir.. Have a good night".

/Hahaha yeah yeah... Have fun.. You two/

After stepping a single foot inside her apartment room. Miyeon immediately pushes you towards her room. Kissing your lips passionately. The way her tounge intertwined with your own was hot not gonna lie. She was very good at this... And Y-you are just starstruck.

"Hmm..... Let's do it".

"... *pant*.... D-do what.. "?

" *smirk* I'll just remove this dress... And then..... Tadaa".

"N-noona"??

Miyeon suddenly undresses right in front of your eyes. Her skin was white and smooth. Her body was petite and so perfect. She Smirked while eyeing your body from head to toe. She smiles, before walking closer and closer to you..

"Let's go to my bedroom".

" *gulp* ".

"It's okayy... Babe... I'll be gentle on you".

As you walked towards her bedroom. You Were suprised by the amount of furniture that was scattered all around her room. It wasn't a cheap piece of decor either, I mean I can clearly see an art piece that would sell for thousands, heck maybe even million of dollars just sitting there on her walnut colored wall.

"Don't let that decoration bother us babe... We're here to fuck not to see some boring art piece... Come here... ".

"O-okay".

Suddenly Miyeon grabs your body and slams it down to the mattress, before plantimg her soft and silky lips down to your own. The kiss was long and delicious, the way her tounge twisted inside your mouth was divine. After the kiss ended, she immediately started to ride your cock slowly and Erotically. She didn't insert it just yet and just playfully teasing you.

"F-fuck.. N-noona".

" *chukle* Do you want me? Do you want to fuck me baby"?

At this point rejecting her offer is just plain dumb and outrageous to do. So without any hesitation you immediately said.

"Yes. I want to fuck you so bad".

" *chukle* beg harder baby.. And maybe I'll let you do it inside of me".

"P-please Miyeon Noona.. Please let me fuck you... I've always loved you.. And I always wanted to fuck you".

"Mhm... *chukle* alright then".

And just like that, Your cock makes an entrance to her now wet and slippery walls. When you went in, Her pussy walls immediately gripped onto your cock. The feeling was heavenly and there was just nothing like it.

"Fuckk...".

"Mhmmm so big... Hehe".

"N-noona You're so tight".

"Mhm.. Do you like it"?

"Y-yes.. Yes I do.. It's heavenly".

"I'm glad... But this is not enough.. Fuck me harder baby".

And you rightfully did. You started to increase your pace and started to give her pussy a nice fucking. Miyeon immediately started moaning like crazy and started to grip your chest harder than before.... The sound of flesh slapping was so loud it started to become music to your ears.

Before long, You're already on your limit. Your cock just couldn't handle the tightness of her pussy. Your cum is basically leaking right now.. And all you want to do now is to release all of your seed deep inside of her.

"Are you close baby"?

"Y-yes.. ".

" *chukle* mhmm... Then cum in me... Cum inside me... Cum inside my fucking womb".

"Fuck.. Fuck fuck... I'm cumminh Noona".

"Yes.. Ahhhh fuckkk... Cumm inside meee".

*Splurttt*

And just like that. You've released all of your seed deep inside her womb. Both of you got tired and just basically cuddled in her big ass bed. She slowly makes her hand on your face before caressing it and kissing your lips.

"Starting from today.. You're mine got it"?

"O-okay Noona".

" *chukle* Just call me Miyeon babe.. ".

"O-okay Miyeon".

~ The End ~

#kpop #sexy content #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #miyeon #gidle #gidle smut #kpop smut #smut

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lustspren · 11 months

Text

California Love ft Soyeon, Minnie.

length: 12k words✦

Soyeon, Minnie & Male Reader.

(The Judge A.U)

genres: threesome, anal, voyeur, hard sex, creampie, double blowjob, oral sex, facefuck, daddy kink, squirt, facial, strap sex, bi ✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

What should be done when you feel that you don't know exactly what your relationship with a person is? That was the question that was constantly going through your mind every day that passed after having visited Soyeon's apartment and having fucked in absolutely every corner of it.

After that day you two had been going out together to all possible places, you went to see movies, to have breakfast, to have dinner, for a walk, to museums, and any moderately fun place for you two to have a good time together; she would even show you the songs she was working on when they were just the skeleton of what you were sure would become a PAK worthy song there in Korea. But the most important of all this, was that you fucked like absolute rabbits in each of the places you went out, yes, even in the movies.

You had never been caught, despite being quite horny all the time, you still kept a certain common sense and all the fucks you did were previously thought out and planned, so nothing had ever gone wrong. Never, except once.

You went to visit Soyeon without letting her know, since you had a day off and you were really bored at home. Soyeon was obviously surprised, but she wasn't really upset about it. Right at that moment she was making food, so you two calmly ate dinner while watching Lost on TV. Things began to heat up, as always happened between the two of you, and as it was also common, she was the one who took the initiative. It all started with a make out session, and in a matter of minutes, you were fucking her missionary on the dining room table.

But there was a small detail that completely escaped Soyeon, she had invited Minnie to her house before you arrived, and in all the heat of the moment, she forgot about it, it simply vanished from her mind. Besides, you had made the mistake of leaving the apartment door unlocked, that's what put the nooses around your necks. As expected, anyone could enter, and of course, Minnie was one of those people. The poor girl had entered without making any kind of noise, and when she got to the dining room, she caught you pounding Soyeon's pussy so hard that you almost broke the table.

You had your back to the kitchen doorway, so only Soyeon realized that she had caught you while you were still working, it was only when you both finished that Soyeon had told you what had happened, and you immediately felt embarrassed and quite worried about what Minnie might or might not do with the information she had just obtained, but the horny little monster was always one step ahead of you, and with complete serenity and confidence, she had told you that she wanted you to have a threesome with her. She did not tell you when or under what circumstances, it was just a comment that remained as a that, a simple comment.

After that day you didn't talk about it anymore, it was simply forgotten, but you kept it in mind all the time, especially when you were together with the other girls and you exchanged glances from time to time with Minnie. You pretended that what had happened had never happened, and you acted like it. In fact, you had a very good relationship with Minnie and with all of them, but deep down you knew that she couldn't get the memory of finding you while you were having sex out of her head.

However, you became so close to those girls that you came to do something that you never thought you would do for a person. Travel to LA. And the irony was that the idea had come from Minnie herself.

G-IDLE was preparing for their next comeback, you knew it before anyone else thanks to your relationship with Soyeon, and you had also heard both songs, both the pre-single and the main track, but the most exhausting moment of the whole process was coming, shooting the respective MV's.

Finding out that the chosen place had been LA was a somewhat bittersweet feeling, on the one hand you were sad, since clearly you weren't going to be able to see Soyeon or the girls for a long time, but also happy because you knew that the MV's were going to be of incredible quality, with good scenery and producers. You were already resigned to spend the days without Soyeon, but Minnie changed the whole landscape for you.

You had met her a few days before their flight to the USA, while you were waiting for Soyeon at the exit of the CUBE building. Minnie had dared to get into your car, tell you all about the plan she had, give you her phone number, and if that wasn't enough, give you a bank transfer with which to buy your one-way ticket. At that moment everything happened so fast that you couldn't even internalize all the information she had given you, all you knew was that it would be a surprise for Soyeon.

The reality was that Minnie hadn't even given you a real plan, it was more like 'Alright, I know you're going to miss Soyeon, why don't you come with us to LA?' To which you had no choice but to say yes, even though you knew all the difficulties that entailed.

And there you were, on a plane heading to a city that you had only visited in GTA V so far. The 11-hour flight had left you completely destroyed, and as soon as you arrived in the city, the first thing you did was look for a nice and cheap hotel to sleep properly. You woke up around 8 p.m, jetlagged as hell and with your perception of reality completely blurred. It wasn't until you checked your phone that you remembered where you were and why.

You had several unread messages from Minnie, and you didn't know how long ago since you still had Seoul time set.

You put the phone down when you were done talking to Minnie and sat on the edge of the bed, immediately getting dizzy, and having to close your eyes, stay perfectly still, and take a deep breath before you were able to get up without falling over in the process.

The room you had rented was about 12 square meters, located in a small hotel near the Santa Monica pier. It was quite a beautiful area, full of life and unusual things, the little you could appreciate in your search for the hotel when you started wandering around was nice, but it was just that, since your head was more on a comfortable bed in which to sleep than in reality.

For the modest price you paid, you were quite surprised by how clean and nice your room was, minimalist, with just the necessities and a bathroom that wasn't exactly great, but it was more than functional for your purpose at the time, in fact, you were also surprised that in the shower there was a fully functional heater. Maybe you had a wrong idea, but in many places, for that price you barely got a bed.

You took a quick bath, no more than 10 minutes in which you just washed your body well and spent a few minutes just letting the water flow over your body to relax, and when you came out of the bathroom to check your phone, Minnie already I had sent you the location of the set where they were filming. You dressed as quickly as you could, with jean shorts, a baggy t-shirt, and vans sneakers, before going out into the street to hail a taxi.

You reached your destination after around 10 minutes by car, you recognized it thanks to certain signs that indicated that something out of the ordinary was happening there, but the most obvious were the warning bands that must have formed some kind of perimeter for several streets. You got out of the taxi, and as soon as you approached one of the bands, a security man discreetly stepped between you and the other side. It was Minnie's turn to act, so you pulled out your phone to text her.

A couple of minutes passed until in the distance you saw a stunning goddess walking straight in your direction, your first reaction was to be completely mesmerized by the sway of her hips, and by her strong aura with which she demanded all possible eyes on her. Incredibly hot body, wide hips, perfect waist, gorgeous long legs, and killer shoulders and clavicle, all highlighted by a short, tight black dress, with one piece of leather on top and the rest of glittery fabric.

You knew Minnie was gorgeous, but on this particular day, she could easily be the hottest, most beautiful woman on earth.

"Let him in! He's coming with us," Minnie said in perfect English to the security guard, who was obviously a local. The guard stepped aside, and you stepped under the band to wrap Minnie in a warm hug.

"Girl, you look really hot," you told her with a giggle, to which she laughed back.

"Oh yeah? Wait till you see your little woman," Minnie replied, pulling away from you with a smile, "she's over there, come on," she nodded for you to follow.

You followed Minnie from behind through the set, which was nothing more than the completely normal street, with empty lit cars and actors who would later appear in the scenes as ordinary passers-by. The other girls weren't on set, but if you'd seen any familiar faces, like the styling team or the group's manager, Soyeon was right behind him, and it wasn't until you got closer that you could fully see her, dressed in the exact same dress as Minnie, sporting an ass and hips that always drove you crazy.

She was distracted talking to the manager, but you wish you were recording her reaction the moment she saw you approaching with Minnie.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" Soyeon yelled, putting her hand to her mouth, "Oh my god!" In the midst of her emotion, she took quick steps towards you and clung to you with a strong hug, which the manager viewed with some misgivings.

"Surprise surprise!" you laughed, lifting Soyeon into the air in the middle of your hug and then lowering her down.

"Have you been planning this all this time, you little jerk?" Soyeon broke away from you, still incredulous that you were standing in front of her in the middle of Los Angeles while she was working.

"You could say that someone planned everything for me," you stepped aside, so Soyeon could see Minnie playing dumb.

"Oh right, I should have been suspicious of the rich girl who's been acting weird all day," Soyeon raised an eyebrow, glaring at her.

"Hey! Thanks I brought him here, the poor guy was going to be left with nothing to do in Seoul," Minnie replied, annoyed.

"If you want I can go back to Korea, no problem," you teased, pretending to turn away.

"Don't even think about it, boy," she grabbed your forearm and held on to your arm. You and Minnie laughed.

"I'll get him a room at the hotel where we're staying, okay?" Minnie asked Soyeon, hoping for her approval as her leader.

"Honey, it's your money, not mine, you can do whatever you want," Soyeon replied, still hugging your arm, "Manager-nim!" she caught the man's attention, "I need to talk to him alone for a moment, okay?" while she said that, she started to walk pulling you with her.

"Don't be long, please! There are a few scenes left to shoot," he told her, then motioned for Minnie to come with him.

"It will be a moment! Don't worry!" Soyeon said louder as you walked away from him.

Soyeon led you through the empty cars, to a location that was outside the perimeter of the set where they were filming but was significantly more isolated and lonely than the rest of the block. A dead end, basically. You went behind a quite tall block of garbage, enough to cover her and you up to the neck. The first thing she did was press you against the wall with her tight body, one hand on your abdomen and her eyes on yours.

"You're not going to suck my dick here, are you?" you teased, tracing the outline of her hips with your hands on them.

"Sadly I can't, sweetheart, it's too risky," she replied, reaching under your shirt to rub your abdomen, "but I can tell you one thing."

"What thing?" You raised an eyebrow, wrapped your arms around her body, and bravely squeezed her ass through her dress.

"Do you remember what happened a while ago? With the girl who brought you here?" she responded immediately, reaching down to squeeze your cock over your shorts and getting closer to your lips, "Today could be the day we fuck relentlessly… with her."

"Uh?" you frowned, "you're kidding right?"

"Do you think I'm kidding?" she squeezed your cock harder, and lifted her dress with her other hand so you could touch her bare asscheek, "The other girls have the night off, who knows where they are, and my hotel room will be lonely..." she brushed her lips against yours, "all night."

"I'm glad you said it, then," you bit her lower lip, giving her a small spank that echoed through the walls, "Because in those black dresses I can't help but imagine how you two suck my cock clean."

"She looks hot, doesn't she?" Soyeon murmured, massaging your cock slowly until it was completely hard, "Wouldn't you like to fuck that pretty face? Or fuck her ass as hard as you do me?" Soyeon's tone was loaded with desire and sensuality, so much so that you were tempted to fuck her right at that moment against the garbage can.

"Fuck, Soyeon..." you gasped, "Yeah, I'd love to, and I'd love to cum on her perfect fucking midriff, too."

"Then you'll have to play along with me, honey," she smiled mischievously, letting go of your cock, pulling away from you and then pulling her dress down. You growled, your cock nearly ripping through your shorts and now too horny to think straight.

"Whatever you say, I'm in, fuck," you sighed, glancing down the street to make sure no one was peeking, "let's go now, you've got work to do."

"There are just a few close ups left to record, it's not a big deal," she adjusted her dress, making sure not to arouse suspicion, "Okay, listen to me," she crossed her arms, "here's the plan, you're going to Look for your suitcase and your things at the hotel where you stayed, and you'll wait for me to tell you to go to our hotel. I'll invent an excuse for Minnie to leave while you arrive."

"And are you sure that all this will work out?" you raised an eyebrow.

"No, but it's better than nothing, right?" she shrugged, "walk on."

"If you say so," you sighed, following her back onto the set.

While you two were in the alley, the thing on the set had started up again. Minnie was filming one of her scenes, while Queencard was playing in the background. Soyeon and you discreetly approached the director, to see the screen he was looking at. You were perplexed by how she performed in front of the cameras, her face and her body made a deadly combination, with a charisma and charm that few idols in the industry were capable of showing so naturally.

"Wah, she's really stunning," Soyeon said next to you, genuinely impressed by Minnie's beauty.

A few long minutes of different takes, directions and revisions passed until Minnie had finally finished filming all the scenes that were missing, and the first thing she did was walk towards you with a smile on her face.

"How was I?" she asked, a little nervous.

"Awesome as always!" you said, flattering her.

"Hey honey, you should go get your things, don't you think? We're almost done here," Soyeon asked, staring at you.

"Oh right! I'll call a taxi," you said, pulling out your phone.

"I have the hotel number, I think I can book your room in my name right away," Minnie said, looking for her bag.

"Thank you very much, Minnie, this makes me very happy, really," you thanked her with a bow and a smile, "I'll go wait outside for the taxi, okay?" you told Soyeon.

"Alright, please be careful," she waved her goodbye to you, indicating for you to go now, "I'll give you the location of the hotel when I'm done filming."

"Understood," you nodded, "see you guys!" you said goodbye to them, starting to walk.

"See you later oppa!" Minnie said goodbye, and you walked back to where the previous taxi had left you.

The taxi arrived about 10 minutes after you called it, and you returned in a short time to the hotel where you had stayed. In there you didn't really have to do much, you hadn't unpacked practically anything from your suitcase and the only things you picked up were your airpods, powerbank and your watch.

You waited for a few minutes which frankly took forever. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, with your hands clasped between your knees while you looked at a fixed point on the wall, anxiously moving your right ankle. You would have used your phone to distract yourself, but it was charging, and you didn't like using it while charging. The precious message arrived just a few minutes later, and it contained only the relevant and necessary information: the location of said hotel, and you were not a bit surprised to find out that it was the Fairmont Century Plaza. Minnie fucking Yontararak was going to get you a room in what was probably the most famous hotel in all of Los Angeles, and she hadn't trembled at any time to do it.

You ordered another taxi (the third in a little less than two hours), and you waited patiently outside the hotel, when it arrived, you put your suitcase in the trunk and got on. About 10 minutes by car were enough to reach your destination. The taxi dropped you off right in front of the impressive piece of infrastructure, which if that wasn't impressive enough on its own, was made even better by the two parallel towers just behind it.

Of course, your first instinct was to take a picture of the place, whose red-gold lights, placed on each and every room balcony, made you gasp when you realized how massive the hotel was. When you had finished taking as many pictures as you could, you walked around the large circular fountain that preceded a roundabout with two installations on the sides and a sculpture in the shape of a man's head made of what appeared to be thick metal wires, which it was backlit with a set of lights installed under its water.

Among all your astonishment, you didn't even realize that Soyeon was already waiting for you in the hotel lobby, so big that if it weren't for the fact that she was waving at you like crazy, you wouldn't have found out that she was there among so many pieces of furniture, pillars, plants and people. You approached her with your suitcase in hand, dragging the little wheels on the most expensive floor you had ever stepped on in your life.

"Do you have any idea how much fucking money Minnie must have to splurge on a room in this place for an idiot like me?" you asked, looking at Soyeon with a mischievous smile on her face, of course she still had her dress on.

"Last Christmas she gave us all Chanel handbags like it was nothing, that's your answer," Soyeon said pulling your shirt to give you a little kiss on the lips, "wait here, I'll tell someone to bring your suitcase to your room.”

"Have you booked it yet?" you asked Soyeon before she left, "What about...?"

"She did it right after you left the set, and don't worry, I told her I needed some alone time in our room," she winked at you, and then headed down a couple of steps to the reception area. She spoke to the manager for a moment as she pointed in your direction, the man nodded, and within seconds she was back with you.

"You don't think she suspects something?" you asked, seeing how a bellboy took your suitcase who knows where.

"It's not the first time I've asked her for a moment alone, sometimes I need to be alone in a room and think about things," she replied with a sigh, "let's go to the reception, you have to sign up to get the keys."

You went to the place that Soyeon had indicated, and with her you spent at least 10 minutes filling out paperwork and doing security checks before the receptionist gave you a pair of keys along with the card you would use to open the door of your room, he also explained to you that the service Minnie had purchased was an all-inclusive service, which meant breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and access to recreational areas such as the pool, spa, and bars.

"Fuck, I didn't even want to ask the amount paid, I'd feel guilty," you said, walking Soyeon away from the reception.

"Honey, whatever amount it is, it's not your problem," she took your arm and looked into your eyes, "now let's go to my room, I want you so bad," she licked her upper lip slowly, thing she knew turned you on

Soyeon grabbed your hand, and you hurriedly headed to her room, first taking an elevator and then going through a long corridor with several people before reaching the door. Each room seemed to have a badge above the door frame, and that one in particular said 'Fairmont Gold Suite'. You two walked in, and as she closed the door behind you, you stood there admiring the space.

It was a long room, with two wide glass doors on the left that led to two separate balconies, each with two chairs and a small circular table. On the wall between the glass doors was a large TV, and at the far end of the room, a gray leather corner sofa, with a small table and a small barrel-shaped stool. Lastly, to the right were the two queen size beds, with a nightstand in the middle and decorative pictures on the wall. To the far right was an open door, and judging by the little marble wall visible from where you were standing, you knew it was the bathroom.

"CUBE didn't put a single dollar to pay for this, right?" you asked, taking a few steps while looking at the incredible views of all of Century City.

"Of course fucking not," she answered behind you, moving closer to the first bed to tidy up the mess a bit, "we both paid for everything."

"God, may I ask why you continue with that disgusting company?" You sat on the opposite corner of the bed that Soyeon was making, watching the TV off and then back outside.

"Contract," Soyeon said dryly, "Soojinie was really lucky that CUBE terminated hers, she's been very happy and easy-going lately."

"Is she?"

"Yup, she is always in contact with Shuhua, you know why."

"Are they together?"

"They were," you heard a suitcase open behind you, you turned to see Soyeon over your shoulder, who was putting some things inside, "They broke up when Soojin decided to walk away, but they're still really good friends."

"I'm glad to know that," you couldn't help but smile.

"Anyways," Soyeon closed the suitcase again and stood in front of you, "Time to tell the little bird that she can come back to this nest, don't you think?" She had the phone in hand, typed a message to Minnie, and then tossed it to the other bed, "Okay, now, I think it's time to open the curtain, honey."

Soyeon stood between your knees and put her hands on your shoulders, rubbing them slowly. You wrapped your arms around her petite body, looking up into her pair of staring predatory eyes, and she climbed onto your lap to accommodate her legs on either side of your hips and involuntarily lifting her dress, just enough so that your bulge pressed against her slit over her black lace panties.

She wrapped her arms around your neck, and with a quick movement of her head she attacked your lips in a fierce and intense kiss from the beginning. Her fingers tangled in your hair, and as your tongues swirled around each other she began to rock her hips back and forth, rubbing her slit against your now growing bulge. Your hands went to her hips, and from there slowly moved down to her ass, you gave her buttocks a hard squeeze, only to then grab the hem of her dress and pull it straight up to the middle of her abdomen.

Soyeon broke away from your lips, and as she now attacked your neck with wet kisses, bites and suckers, she reached between your bodies and reached for your cock, to give it an initial squeeze and then began to massage it constantly until it was completely hard. You gasped, and gave her right buttock a hard spank, followed by a light squeeze. You tried to lean slightly forward to push her panties away and bring one of your fingers to her ass, but she stopped you by putting her hand on your chest.

"Uh uh, no sir, not yet," she told you with a mischievous smile, placed a small kiss on your lips and climbed down from your lap to kneel between your legs, her face right in front of your big bulge.

"Did I tell you how fucking hot you look in that dress?" you commented, gasping.

"Actually no, you didn't," her hand went straight to your bulge, massaging it for a moment before beginning to unbutton your shorts, "but you didn't need to tell me to know I had you drooling, darling," she pulled down the zip, and grabbing the hem of both your shorts and boxers, she lowered both items of clothing directly to your ankles, releasing your hard, throbbing cock in front of her face.

She skipped absolutely any foreplay and took your cock in one hand, rubbed the tip of it a couple of times against her tongue, then took you right into her mouth, taking half of your shaft in one quick shot. motion. You gasped, throwing your head back to then stare at her as she began to bob her head up and down.

It was obvious that she was just as in need of it as you are, as she aggressively pumped her head and started salivating all over your cock within a minute of starting. Her little lips slid lower and lower, until with each bob of her head your whole cock was going in and out of her mouth.

You moaned, and she mimicked you moaning around your shaft, using her tongue to stimulate the back of her and tilting her head from side to side in a corkscrew motion. She was making your cock all salivary and slippery, driving you completely crazy with pleasure; you supported your hands on the mattress, and wrinkled the sheets when she pushed her head down and rested her nose against your pelvis, while she looked you straight in the eyes and without showing a single gag reflex.

"Holy fucking shit, I missed this cock so much, honey," Soyeon said after taking you out of her mouth to take a breath and start jerking you off quickly, then she spat all the saliva that had accumulated in her mouth right onto your dick again.

"Then sit on it and bounce like the slut you are," after a while you were confident enough to talk to her like that, so you weren't afraid to tell her what a slut she was, or give her small orders.

"Do you want my ass or my pussy, sweetie?" she asked, placing little kisses on your shaft.

"I want your pussy first, let's save the best for later."

Soyeon gave a small smirk and stood up, grabbing the straps of her dress and pulling it off her shoulders, rolling it all the way to the middle of her abdomen along the other end, now leaving her perky little tits exposed. You took off your t-shirt, and as you did, she had already turned around to present her ass to you. She pulled her panties down very slowly, first showing you her ass and then her delicious little plump pussy.

She tossed the panties away after pulling them off her legs, and with her back to you, she bent her knees to float her round ass just above your cock, ran a hand between her legs and cupped your shaft with one hand to straighten it, rub it a few times between her folds and then begin to slowly lower herself over it, impaling herself inch by inch on your cock.

"Oh fuck yes baby!" Soyeon moaned, resting her buttocks against your pelvis as your cock was deep inside her pussy. She rested her hands on your knees, and began to move her ass up and down slowly until her pussy walls molded to your shaft, that's when she clung more tightly to your legs, and her ass started to quickly bounce.

Under normal circumstances, seeing your cock disappear between Soyeon's buttocks would drive you fucking crazy, but in that situation, in a suite that expensive, with the city lights of LA illuminating the room, you felt like you were in the most sexy erotic Hollywood movie, fucking a coveted and desired movie star.

Soyeon didn't bother to regulate the volume of her moans, despite the fact that it was already quite late at night and that the people in the adjacent rooms were probably already sleeping, she just dedicated herself to jumping like crazy on your dick, making the sound of meat against meat colliding take over the room.

Your hands went to her hips, and clung there until her hair looked tremendously tempting to you. You caught a handful of her hair in a messy ponytail, and yanked it back hard so she let out a little groan of pleasure. That seemed to make her angry, because she started moving her ass as hard as she could, and you responded with a strong spank straight to one of her buttocks.

No more than your moans and the sound of her ass bouncing against your pelvis was present in the room, until the moment that both you and Soyeon were looking forward to finally happened. There was a small Beep at the door, and then it opened wide, showing Minnie as stunned as if she had seen a ghost, still dressed in that sexy black dress. She put her hand to her mouth and looked to the sides of the hall to make sure no one passed while the door was still open.

You saw her, and then you saw Soyeon still bouncing on your cock like the sex machine that she was.

"S-sorry guys… I better go, sorry," she was about to play dumb and close the door again, but Soyeon cut her off.

"Not so fast, woman, why don't you join us?" Soyeon asked between gasps, "or don't you want to release today's stress?" she moaned louder than normal, just to show Minnie how much she was enjoying jumping on your cock.

"Uh... can I?" Minnie asked doubtfully, biting her bottom lip and stepping into the room and closing the door behind her, she saw Soyeon waiting for an answer, then you, and then your cock disappearing and appearing between Soyeon's buttocks. She seemed mesmerized by the scene immediately, as if it was something she had been imagining all this time, but that was coming true until now.

"Of course, princess," Soyeon finally stopped, and you let go of her hair as she looked over her shoulder at you, "Honey, why don't you help me give our guest the welcome she deserves? "

"I'd be delighted, boss," you winked at her, and she got up from your cock to walk slowly towards Minnie, you followed her from behind, until you stood behind her and Soyeon in front of her. Minnie looked nervous, clearly intimidated by being trapped between two naked bodies, but still horny as fuck, you could tell by how she was looking at Soyeon, or how she was looking at you and your cock over her shoulder, "Can I kiss you?" you asked.

"I'd be upset if you didn't," Minnie said in a low, sweet, dreamy voice, the one she usually used to open songs like Oh My God, so fucking sexy she made your dick throb.

You took Minnie's chin with two of your fingers, leaving her head still for you to slowly approach her lips, looking into her eyes at all times until finally your mouths met in a slow and calm kiss, which soon evolved into a more intense and passionate one. Soyeon was the next to attack, taking advantage of the fact that Minnie's neck was exposed to fill it with small kisses as she removed the straps of her dress and lowered it to her abdomen.

Having a new pair of tits at your disposal, you didn't hesitate to pass your two hands around Minnie's body and reach her little tits to play with her small and sensitive nipples, Minnie moaned low in the kiss, and you went even deeper in the kiss, adding your tongue and little lip bites from time to time. Soyeon continued to undress her, grabbing her rolled down dress and pulling it down her body until she slipped it off her legs. You didn't even have time to find out what color Minnie's panties were, because Soyeon as soon as she saw them also removed them from her legs.

Now completely naked, Minnie pulled her ass back and pressed it against your slippery cock. She also took one of her hands back, grabbing your neck and drowning her small moans into the kiss while Soyeon put her tits in her mouth, licking and sucking on her nipples. Minnie moved her hips slowly, rubbing your cock between her buttocks, and you began to go over the body that had been driving you so crazy for a while with your hands. Your hands slowly passed the sides of her torso, moving down until you reached what was undoubtedly your favorite part of her body, her flat, soft, long and incredibly beautiful abdomen, which you slowly rubbed up and down, teasing with touch her pussy but always coming back higher.

"Enough," Soyeon said, and you and Minnie parted from the kiss, her face red with pleasure and you gasping for air, "I want to cum on that cock, and you," she looked at Minnie, "are going to help me with that."

"Oh, with pleasure," Minnie replied, carefully taking Soyeon by the face and planting a short but sensual kiss on her lips.

You let go of Minnie and went back to the bed to sit on the edge, leaned back and rested your hands on the mattress, waiting for Soyeon, who came back to stand between your legs with her back to you. You took your cock, and you made it straight so that she only had to lower her ass and find herself once again completely impaled on your cock. Minnie also went to stand between your legs, to grab Soyeon's face once more and start kissing her; Soyeon began to jump more aggressively than a moment ago, devoting the entire moment solely and exclusively to her own pleasure, using you as a little sex toy, which didn't bother you at all.

Minnie, remembering what Soyeon had asked of her, separated from her lips and raised her back slightly to be able to leave her tits at a more accessible level, for her to bend her knees and begin to pinch and suck on her tits. Soyeon took Minnie's head between her arms, holding her and pressing her even more against her tits while she jumped like crazy on your cock. You brought your hands to Soyeon's ass, squeezing her buttocks as you helped her bounce faster. You gave her another strong spank that made her squeal, and then she started to lose control of her body as Minnie brought a hand between her thighs and began to quickly rub Soyeon’s clit.

Soyeon was already close to her orgasm even before Minnie arrived, but now with her help, and between the two stimuli in her pussy, it didn't take long for her to reach her peak of pleasure. She pulled Minnie's hair away from her tits and kissed her again, muffling loud squeals of pleasure against her lips as she jumped slower but just as strong on your cock. Her pussy walls tightened around your shaft, and you had to make an inhuman effort not to cum. You clung to her waist, closing your eyes and concentrating until she finally stopped.

"Fuck..." you sighed, "I missed that tight little pussy so much," you gasped, still deep in her cavern to give another hard spank to her other ass cheek.

"And I missed that big cock, honey," she turned to look at you, Minnie's face still in her hands when she blew you a little kiss.

"I… I want to suck it, can I?" Minnie asked, looking down as Soyeon lifted her hips to free your cock.

"You'll only do it with me, naughty girl," Soyeon climbed off your lap and pushed Minnie aside to kneel between your legs, Minnie knelt to the side of her, forcing you to spread your legs wider so they could fit between them.

"My god… it's so big," Minnie said, taking your cock in her hand and admiring it like it was the toy she asked for for Christmas, "now I envy you," her hand began to move slowly up and down, spreading Soyeon's fluids on your cock.

"Wait till you feel it in your ass," Soyeon said with a giggle.

"What are you waiting for to clean that cock, cutie?" you asked, rubbing the outline of her face with the back of your hand.

Minnie bit her lower lip, and after a few seconds of hesitation, she guided the tip of your cock right into her mouth, wrapping her thick lips in a tight grip as she slowly began to suck the first few inches of your shaft. Soyeon brushed Minnie's hair from her face, and joined her with little kisses and licks on your balls.

After a few seconds Minnie got confident enough to start pumping her head lower and lower, and that's when you noticed that she was fucking amazing giving head. You gasped, placing a hand on the back of Minnie's head to guide her into the correct pace, but it was unnecessary to do so, as she knew exactly how to move her head and her tongue to drive you wild with each pump.

"Your pussy tastes delicious, Soyeonie," Minnie said, pulling you out of her mouth to get some air, her hand moving slowly over your cock.

"Don't be greedy, I want a taste too," Minnie stopped moving her hand, and Soyeon started licking your shaft and then sucking a few inches of it.

"Get on the bed, both of you, I want to see those asses while you make me cum," you ordered with your mouth agape, getting on the bed and resting your head on one of the two pillows.

Minnie and Soyeon obeyed your command, and climbed on the bed to slowly crawl towards you, then turned around, their asses facing you and their backs arching so that their faces were level with your cock. You saw Minnie's pussy for the first time, and you couldn't help rubbing her folds slowly with your fingers, she turned to see you, and with her gaze fixed on you, she took your cock again to guide it back to her mouth. You let out a long moan, and squeezed both asses as Minnie let her lips trail to the base of your cock with each pump of her head.

Minnie took you out of her mouth after a few seconds, and Soyeon was the next to take you. Unlike Minnie, who gave you a more sensual, slow and clean blowjob, Soyeon was completely the opposite, with frantic and fast movements on your cock which began to leave it more and more full of saliva. After a moment, Soyeon took you out of her mouth and then they both began to work together to give you pleasure, each one with her mouth on the side of your shaft to stick out their tongues and start moving up and down, from your base to the tip. And that was your downfall.

The two girls kept moving their perfectly coordinated heads, making their tongues serve as a cocksleeve for you, and after a few seconds your unannounced orgasm arrived. You let out a loud moan, and immediately your cock began to shoot thick jets of cum into the air, which fell on your cock while they were still moving their tongues up and down, collecting every drop that ran down your shaft, but it was so much that part of it remained accumulated on their lips or on their chins. Out of sheer instinct you gave each of them a strong spank, but you were so out of that existential plane that you didn't realize when your orgasm had passed, and they were already taking turns sucking your cock clean once more.

"Such a fucking delicious cock, dammit..." Minnie said, licking your cock just like Soyeon.

"You can have it anytime you want, as long as you share it with me and do everything I tell you today," Soyeon replied, taking her chin to run her tongue over it and clean any remaining cum.

"I'm fine with that," Minnie smirked, and then she licked her lips to return the favor to Soyeon, wiping her lips and her chin until they were clean.

"Oh yeah? Well listen to this, rich girl," Soyeon grabbed her neck and kept her brushing against her lips, "I'm not touching that pussy... until your fucking squirt."

"Oh… but, I don't think I've ever done that," Minnie said, with a slightly worried expression.

"It's quite easy, I'll guide you," she knelt up, and stared at you, "but for that you'll need inspiration," she raised an eyebrow, you got the message, and nodded for her to do what she wanted.

Your cock was still hard, and Soyeon took advantage of that to climb onto you with her back to you, planting both feet on either side of your hips, and began rubbing the tip of your cock between her folds. Minnie also took a new position on the bed, lying on her back in the right corner with her legs wide open, leaving her pussy exposed to you and Soyeon.

"Should I just... finger myself?" Minnie asked, rubbing her index and middle fingers between her slit from top to bottom.

"You must be completely relaxed, honey, especially your pelvis, when you feel close, just let me know, okay?" Soyeon asked her, teasing with impaling herself on your dick but only sticking the tip of it in and then pulling it out of her.

"God… very good," Minnie agreed with a sigh, rubbing her clit slowly in circles and then taking her index and middle fingers slowly inside her pussy, she let out a small moan, and that was the green light for Soyeon to fully impale herself on your cock one more time.

Soyeon leaned back, and rested her hands on the mattress to start moving her hips at a steady and pleasurable rhythm. Minnie, staring at how your cock moved in and out of Soyeon's pussy, moved her wrist faster than she was supposed to at first, and did so between cute, needy moans.

"Do you like this, princess?" Soyeon asked Minnie, moving up and down on your cock, "seeing how his big juicy cock fills my little pussy? I bet you'd love to feel it inside you, wouldn't you?"

Minnie didn't respond with words but with more moans and an increase in the rhythm of her wrist, her fingers pumping rapidly in and out of her pussy. Her mouth was parted, and her free hand was pinching her own nipple as the pleasure built up in her body. Soyeon began to bounce harder completely on purpose, forcing Minnie to stop looking at her and see what was going on between your legs.

You could let Soyeon ride you all day, in fact, it was one of your favorite things in the world, but you needed to take control for a moment, so you made her stop, planted your feet on the mattress and you grabbed her legs tightly before pulling her back, her back was pressed against your chest, and now you were holding her in a full-nelson position, her knees on either side of her head and your hands holding the sides of it, perfect to give Minnie exactly what she wanted.

Soyeon couldn't even meet Minnie's eyes anymore, you had started pumping your hips up and down as hard and fast as you could, crashing your pelvis against her ass with each thrust. You turned your head to the side, so you could see Minnie clearly as her fingers went in and out of her as fast as your cock did Soyeon's pussy.

The moans from both girls were like music to your ears, both squealing and whimpering with pleasure in different ways and volumes. Minnie stopped pinching and massaging her tits with her free hand, and instead brought both of her fingers into her slit as well to begin rubbing her clit intensely and in circles. You couldn't see Soyeon's face, only Minnie's, and you couldn't stop thinking that it was a work of art carved by the angels themselves, and how it distorted and turned red with pleasure, had your motor at all speed.

"Soyeonie... ah, fuck fuck! I'm too close, now w-what?" Minnie managed to ask between whimpers, pumping her fingers and rubbing her pussy quickly.

"Just squeeze your glutes and relax!" you were sure Soyeon meant to tell her nicely, but instead, she just let out a desperate scream, "You're gonna!... FUCK!" Soyeon squeaked, "You're going to feel like you're going to pee, don't panic, j-just go on relax and push!" she said all that last without a pause, only to be able to moan again.

At first you weren't sure if Minnie had stored all that information in her head, but a few seconds passed, and she frowned, clenched her teeth, and suddenly put her fingers out of her pussy, letting out a considerable stream of fluid that stained the entire sheet in one line and part of your calf, all while she continued to rapidly rub her clit until the squirt combined with her orgasm. Her body twisted in a violent spasm, and she dropped her head to the mattress to writhe and crumple the sheets with her free hand.

"I think it's time to give her the prize, don't you think?" you asked Soyeon, considerably slowing down your thrusts and loosening your grip. Minnie, meanwhile, kept squealing and rubbing her clit much slower than before.

"I… fuck yeah, right," Soyeon moaned, and you released her legs so she was sitting on top of you again. She got off your cock and you got up to grab Minnie by her thighs and pull her to the center of the bed. You and Soyeon lay on each side of her, Soyeon cupped the side of her face and started kissing her, while you concentrated on kissing her jaw, her neck and then her clavicle.

Your hand ran down her incredibly sexy body once more, and when you reached her abdomen you couldn't help but move down a bit to bring your lips to it, spreading wet kisses around her hot tummy, down to her pubis and then back up. to bring one of her small tits to your mouth. Minnie still had her legs wide open, a moment that you took the opportunity to put a hand between them and rub her clitoris, a little spasm scared her, because she was still sensitive, but she immediately relaxed thanks to Soyeon's care.

“You're going to squirt one more fucking time,” you said, more as a warning than a request, Minnie's weak, lust-filled eyes meeting yours as she stopped kissing Soyeon.

"Do what you want with me, I don't care," Minnie said, her voice husky and low.

"Wow, that's an invitation you can't turn down," Soyeon said with a mischievous smile, grabbing one of Minnie's tits and spreading kisses all over her face.

You kept moving your fingers over her clit for a few more seconds, until you trailed them down her folds and deep inside her pussy. Minnie trembled and squealed, and grabbed onto Soyeon's neck as you began to move your wrist frantically without any warning.

You and Soyeon each took one of Minnie's tits into your mouths as you pumped your fingers in and out of her tight, drenched pussy. Minnie's legs did a little reflex to close, but you quickly looped a leg over hers to hold it in place, restricting any kind of movement other than her hips.

Minnie was screaming like crazy, making growls from the depths of her throat and grabbing both of you by the hair on the nape of your neck, entangling her fingers in it between slight spasms that her body had every time you hit her G-spot. You knew how and how deep to move your fingers, so now you were stimulating her sensitive area at all times.

You continued to lick and suck on her nipple for a few more seconds, until you came up and met her pretty lips once more. She cupped your face with both hands, and you brought your lips together in a fiery kiss. Minnie muffled her shrieks against your lips, but it soon became impossible with Soyeon's fingers rubbing over her clit, following the rhythm of your wrist and causing her to start screaming in pleasure.

Minnie's eyes started to get teary, but that didn't stop either of you from continuing your mission. Not more than a minute passed when you felt Minnie's hips thrust forward and her pussy squeezing around your fingers, that was your cue to pull them out, letting a new, stronger and longer lasting stream come out of her pussy, now completely wetting one new bed area.

"That's a good fucking girl, oh yes..." Soyeon said with a mischievous smirk, pecking her tit and then her cheek as her pussy shot out little less prominent squirts, "I think I'll go find something outside, have fun while I'm gone."

"Where will you go?" you asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

"To find a mysterious tool that will help us later, honey, don't be impatient," she winked at you, taking you by the chin and giving you a little kiss before getting up and getting out of bed.

Soyeon put her dress back on, completely ignoring her panties and leaving it on rather disastrously, and without saying anything, she hurried out of the room, leaving you completely alone with Minnie.

"Seems like it's just you and me now," you got level with her face, grabbed her waist to turn her on her side and press her against you, embracing her body with your arm and kissing her again. This time you dedicated yourself to enjoying her kiss, tasting her lips and entangling your tongue with hers amid very soft moans from both of you.

"Fuck my face, please use me however you want baby," she murmured against your lips, plunging back into the kiss and hugging your torso with her thigh.

You took her request completely into account, and it didn't come out of your mind, but her lips were so addictive, so soft and delicious, that you couldn't help but stay kissing her for at least 5 more minutes, which certainly didn't bother her, since with each passing second she seemed more and more entranced by your lips.

When you considered that you had enjoyed Minnie's lips enough, you separated from her between small kisses and knelt up to one side of her, with your cock floating just over her face. She stuck out her tongue, and looked at you with a pair of incredibly sexy and piercing eyes.

"Holy fuck Minnie… your face is so fucking… unreal," you gasped, rubbing the tip of your cock against her tongue, "you're so gorgeous, and so perfectly ruinable."

Saying that, you grabbed Minnie by the back of her head and turned her towards you, giving you the free way to push your cock deep into her mouth, brushing her throat with your tip and letting out a moan into the air. Minnie scrunched up her face, while her nose rested on your pubis and you mentally prepared yourself for what was going to happen.

After a few seconds, you began to rock your hips back and forth, your cock slowly moving fully in and out of her mouth. Minnie's gag reflex was non-existent, which resulted in unimaginable pleasure every time you hit her throat. She was completely still as she stared at you, acting like a puny sex toy, which she enjoyed most was choking on a good cock.

You could spend hours moving your hips at the same nice slow pace, but you wanted to ruin her and her beautiful face completely. You gave her a dry and spicy slap straight to her cheek, then began to move your hips faster and faster, grabbing her hair hard and carelessly, and fucking her mouth as if she were just a piece of living meat.

You didn't mind treating her in a rustic and aggressive way, you knew she was loving it, especially because of how she moaned around your shaft. Soon the room was filled with the sounds of your cock hitting her throat over and over again, her eyes watered, and thick saliva began to spill from the corners of her mouth straight down her chin onto the sheets below her. Her tears spilled little by little, and with them her eye shadow began to run down her cheeks, staining a faint black.

You were fucking her hard and mercilessly, pulling her hair and moving her head in conjunction with your hips to reach deeper into her throat with each thrust. Your cock was all drenched in a thick layer of her saliva, and it was dripping in all directions as you kept moving.

Tears were running down Minnie's cheeks, who was clinging tightly to one of your thighs with her hand. Fortunately (or not) for her, your orgasm was not long in coming, you were already conditioned from before when you were hammering Soyeon's pussy, and when you felt the tingle, you immediately pulled out your cock and started jerking it quickly over Minnie's face. She didn't even stick her tongue out of it this time, she just stared at you with slightly parted lips and a puppy dog look, and that was enough for you to explode. Your cock shot multiple streams of cum straight into that work of art, staining her lips, her nose, her forehead, and even her eyes, which she instinctively closed as you unloaded on her pretty skin. Gasps were the only thing that came out of your mouth at that moment, so incredibly pleasant that you questioned for a moment if it was real.

"Fuck... is it okay if I call you daddy?" she asked after a sigh, wiping the cum over her eyes so she could open them, while you brushed your cock across her face.

"You call me whatever you want, honey," you replied, panting, and then she caught your cock in her mouth to wipe it clean.

Right at that moment, Soyeon suddenly entered the room, giving you a little scare. She closed the door quickly, but without showing what she had hidden behind her back. When she saw the scene that you had set up, she made a surprised face.

"Wow, you sure didn't waste your time, did you?" she asked you, raising an eyebrow.

"You can't blame me, her face is extremely fuckable," you objected, brushing the dick out of Minnie's face and sitting down on the bed.

"Yes, whatever you say," she ignored you on purpose, and then looked at Minnie, "I brought a little surprise for you, darling," that's when she finally showed what she had hidden on her back, it was a strap-on, with a rubber dildo at least about 6 inches long. You raised both eyebrows, completely stunned. Minnie didn't seem to have a different reaction than you did.

"What?! Where the hell did you get that from?" you asked, still unable to believe it.

"A horny bitch doesn't reveal her secrets," she said as she dropped the strap on the bed and quickly slipped out of her dress, getting naked with the two of you again. She strapped on like she'd done it a thousand times before (suspicious), and then went to get something in her suitcase, "put that little slut on all fours, I'm going to fuck her ass."

You and Minnie exchanged glances, she nodded, making you understand that she could do it alone, so you put a pillow on the head of the bed and leaned on it to enjoy the show. Minnie weakly dragged herself to the center of the bed, and with some difficulty got to her elbows and knees, arching her back and lifting her butt to wait for Soyeon, who came back with a bottle of lube in her hand and then climbed on to the bed, kneeling behind Minnie.

"Is that thing sterilized?" Minnie asked, gasping, looking over her shoulder at Soyeon with her face still covered in your cum.

"Of course, silly, what kind of psycho do you think I am?" replied Soyeon, pouring lubricant on the strap-on dildo and leaving it nice and slippery, then, with what was left in her hand, she took two of her fingers to Minnie's ass, to lubricate the inside of it for a few seconds.

With nothing else to do, Soyeon threw the bottle of lubricant to a completely random place and began to rub the tip of the dildo against Minnie's ass, who bit her lip and you noticed how her hands tensed. Soyeon placed one hand on Minnie's ass, and helped herself with the other to start guiding the dildo very slowly into her hole. Minnie squealed, as the dildo forced its way through her walls inch by inch. At this point you didn't know if her face was in pain or pleasure, the line between both things was very thin, but what you did know was that Soyeon was persevering, and she didn't stop until the dildo was completely buried inside Minnie's ass

Minnie crumpled the sheets tightly with her fingers, and dropped her face to the mattress amid desperate screeching. It was evident that it was her first time trying anal, but she was in good hands, so you didn't even worry.

"It fucking hurts! Ugh!" Minnie whined, pursing her lips, her hands balled into a fist.

"I know, just relax, it's normal at first," Soyeon began to rub Minnie's buttocks slowly, keeping the dildo buried in her ass for a few more seconds, "I'm going to start moving as slow as I can, but I need you to relax, you're going to feel good, honey."

Minnie nodded uncertainly, and then Soyeon did as she promised, moving her hips back very slowly. Minnie tensed again, but then closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and bit her lip as Soyeon moved forward again, completing just a pump.

Soyeon continued pumping as slowly as she could, until she noticed that Minnie's body was not tense, and that a small moan had already come out of her mouth, indicating that she was already beginning to feel pleasure. Knowing this, Soyeon stopped holding back and began moving her hips faster with each passing second, slowing down a bit each time Minnie complained.

But soon the complaints subsided, even when Soyeon moved fast and hard, Minnie showed no trace of pain in her expression, now it had turned back into a mess of moans and whimpers as her ass was completely filled by Soyeon's dildo, which went in and out its full length with each pump.

"D-Daddy..." Minnie moaned, raising her head a little to look at you from her with lust-filled eyes, "fuck my pussy, I'm begging you, I need it!" pleaded Minnie between moans.

"Daddy? That's new," Soyeon said, raising an eyebrow and biting her lip, to give Minnie a hard spank that made her squeal, "do you want to be double penetrated? I didn't know you were such a fucking whore."

"Shut the fuck up, I just need it!" Minnie yelled, looking over her shoulder as she frantically fucked her ass, "daddy please!" she repeated, looking at you again.

You were so mesmerized and entranced by the scene that it took you a while to even react. You got off the head of the bed and went to kneel in front of Minnie's face, slamming your semi-hard cock against her lips.

"Put that cock hard again then, honey," you ordered, to which Minnie captured your cock in her mouth and began sucking on it fast and hard, helping herself with her hand to soon bring it back to its full hardness.

When your cock was fully hard, Minnie lifted her body so that you got under her, and when you got comfortable, she lowered herself on top of you, pressing her tits and her abdomen against your torso. You reached between your bodies, taking your cock and aligning it with her pussy to plant your feet on the mattress and push up, entering Minnie's tight pussy for the first time.

Minnie clung tightly to your shoulders and buried her face in your neck to drown out her loud whimpers of pleasure as she felt her other hole being filled deep, this time by a thick, throbbing cock, while Soyeon didn't stop hammering her ass mercilessly for even a single second, crashing the base of the strap against her buttocks.

You took a moment to enjoy the first sensation of Minnie's pussy clenched around your shaft, it felt silky, very fucking wet and tight, and dare you say it felt better than Soyeon's, but you would know that with time.

Your hands went to Minnie's waist, and squeezing her flesh firmly, you began to move your hips up and down in a rhythm that from the beginning all it did was drive her absolutely crazy, since you were matching Soyeon's movements while she pounded her ass.

Minnie kept her face on the side of your neck, but with a strong tug on Soyeon's hair she made her back stand up. You didn't stop pumping in and out of her pussy for a single second, so Minnie continued with her face distorted with pleasure. Soyeon caught Minnie's face in her hand, and turned her face to the side only to start licking your cum off her face.

"How does that juicy cock feel inside your pussy, honey?" Soyeon asked, licking cum from Minnie's lips and swallowing it all, "And your ass? How does it feel to be fucked in the ass like a good slut?" Minnie didn't respond, she just kept moaning and screaming like crazy while you continued to pump frantically up and down.

"You love it, don't you?" you asked Minnie, squeezing her ass tightly, "you love how my cock fills you up so well," you growled.

"Yes daddy, fuck yes!!" she squeaked, and Soyeon began to pinch her nipples as she continued to fuck her ass, "I'm gonna fucking cum so hard! Oh my fucking god !!" she grabbed the sides of your abdomen, and digging her nails into you almost painfully, she reached the peak of her pleasure.

You felt a different sensation inside her pussy when Minnie's orgasm came, a sensation that forced you to suddenly pull out your cock so that a squirt just as powerful and long-lasting as the previous one came out of her pussy, but this time completely soaking your cock, your pelvis and part of your thighs. Her body began to shake and spasm violently, and she rolled her eyes as she moaned and growled with her mouth wide open in an O shape.

It took a moment for her orgasm to pass, and when it did, Soyeon released her so that she fell directly on top of you, her hair now covering part of your face. You felt her breathing completely uneasy and messy, and also how her body still had little electric shocks. Soyeon got out of her ass, and then took off her strap to leave it on the side of the bed.

"Wipe off his cock and you can rest for a moment, I'm not done with you, sweetie," Soyeon patted Minnie's ass and went to lie down on her side next to you.

"I... I..." Minnie couldn't find the words or breath, she raised her face to see you and then Soyeon, "Okay..." she swallowed, and gathered strength from where she didn't. She had to stand up and give you space to get up.

You knelt up, and Minnie returned to her knees and hands just for you. You took your cock, drenched with her squirt and her fluids, and brought it into her mouth, for her to suck on slowly, from tip to base, until she left it squeaky clean.

"That's a good girl," you gasped, cupping the side of her face with your hand and caressing her cheek with your thumb.

"You're going to fuck her ass, honey, fill it deep, I know you're close," Soyeon commanded, leaning forward to take Minnie's buttock in her hand and squeeze.

"Are you okay with that, baby?" you asked Minnie, that she looked so cute, destroyed and sexy that you just wanted to cover her with kisses.

"Yes daddy… I want to feel your load inside me… I don't care which hole," Minnie sighed, nuzzling herself against your hand like a kitten.

"Fuck, you did charm her with that dick, didn't you?" Soyeon teased with a giggle, as you moved to position yourself behind Minnie, and she lay down right in front of her face, spreading her legs wide to leave her pussy inches from Minnie's mouth.

"Let's just say it was something much simpler than my dick," you replied, remembering your magnificent making-out session with her. The bottle of lube was close to you, so you just reached over to pick it up and pour it all over your cock.

"Oh, isn't your dick the only magical thing you've got?" Soyeon grabbed Minnie by her hair, and not caring what she said, she plunged her face right into her pussy. Minnie didn't seem to mind, as she fully understood that she had to start eating Soyeon's pussy, "That's it sweetheart, right fucking there," Soyeon moaned under her breath.

"I don't know, you should know right?" You raised an eyebrow with a smirk, and that was the last thing you said before guiding your cock right into her already stretched ass, which spread easily for your shaft until you were all the way inside her, "What the fuck Minnie, this ass feels amazing," you gasped.

You rested your hands on Minnie's waist, and as she ate Soyeon's pussy so well it had her pursing her lips, you began to pump at a leisurely pace, which gradually turned into aggressive crashes of your pelvis against Minnie's nice ass.

Minnie was moaning against Soyeon's pussy, which served to her advantage in bringing her to a quick point of no return, in which Soyeon was pinching her tits and arching her back between loud moans. Then you realized that Minnie was a fucking goddess of oral sex.

Seeking to increase Soyeon's and Minnie's pleasure, you raised your hand and gave Minnie the hardest spank you'd given her all night, which made her scream against your girlfriend's pussy. You squeezed both cheeks together, spanked her again, and started pumping your hips as fast as you could, pounding Minnie's ass like a complete animal.

You wanted to keep fucking Minnie's ass for a while longer, but you couldn't hold it anymore, and it took a few seconds until with a strong thrust, you left your cock resting inside Minnie's ass while you shot all your load inside it. You moaned loudly, and when she felt the spurts of your cum fill her ass, she began to eat Soyeon's pussy as good and fast as she could.

Soyeon, between moans, moved her hips involuntarily and pressed Minnie's mouth and nose even more against her pussy, while you already left your last drops of seed inside her ass. You pulled out your cock, and as if it were a plug, it dropped all your cum like a waterfall from her ass to the sheets.

You fell back, admiring your work while the focus of pleasure was now Soyeon, who didn't take much more than 2 minutes before she violently raised her hips and began to shake in spasms. Minnie continued to eat her pussy through her orgasm, scooping her fluids and wiping her fleshy folds so she wouldn't have a trace of what had happened. Soyeon was pulling her hard by her hair, and for a moment she closed her thighs around her head as her body relaxed.

"Minnie… since when are you so fucking amazing eating pussy?" Soyeon sighed, removing her fingers from her hair and relaxing her legs.

"I eat Yuqi's pussy all the time, it's one of my favorite pastimes," Minnie sighed, her soul completely drained out of her body as she begged for just five minutes of rest.

"But that doesn't explain how you're so amazing at sucking cock," you said from behind, breathing hard.

"I... I just want to rest, leave me alone for a moment," Minnie completely ignored both of you, and she settled on the side of the bed to plant her face on the pillow, her stomach flat.

"Don't worry, honey, I'll make sure to find out later," Soyeon said with a giggle, then fixed her gaze on you, "You… come here," she waved her finger, and you as a good slave of her charms, you went without question, placing yourself on top of her and covering her body with yours.

"We've fulfilled our little fantasy, haven't we?" You smiled, sharing small kisses with her as you took both of her hands to intertwine your fingers.

"Oh no honey... you're so wrong," Soyeon said between kisses, then looking into your eyes and tracing the outline of your lower lip with her tongue, "it doesn't end here."

"Huh?"

"I want us to fuck the other members… together," she murmured in a sultry, husky way, caressing your inner thigh with hers.

"Really? Are you sure about that?" you asked, somewhat hopeful for a positive answer.

"Of course, I know you're going to love it," Soyeon started to kiss you again, but this time on your chin and cheeks, "Miyeonie fucks like an angel, very fucking lovely," she returned to your lips, "Yuqi is too fucking energetic... and Shuhua..." she laughed at that last one, "Shuhua is the biggest fucking brat I know, she won't stop until you leave her scarred ass, weak pussy and shaky legs."

A shiver ran through your entire body just imagining each one of them, and you got so excited that even your cock, already flaccid, moved involuntarily.

"I… fuck, I'm in," you sighed.

"I know you are, sweet boy," she smiled, carefully taking your neck to kiss you again.

You two kept kissing for a long time, until you both got tired and settled next to Minnie to rest. Soyeon settled to your right, hugging your body with her hand and her leg, and Minnie was face down to your left, fast asleep. A few minutes passed, and soon you joined Minnie in a deep slumber.

———————————————————————

Spren Notes:

I really love writing about The Judge AU because I can bring out my pure fucking smut writing skills lol. That was REALLY intense. And I hope you all start to appreciate G-IDLE a bit more, it's annoying how underrated they are around here on tumblr.

Remember! If you, dear reader, are interested in buying me a commission, do not hesitate to go through my inbox, I’ll be delighted!

#smut #kpop smut #g idle smut #gidle smut #soyeon smut #minnie smut #kpop fanfic #x male smut #male reader smut #male reader insert #x male reader

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svndaysaweek · 1 year

Text

e^(iπ)+1=0 — {Feat. Minnie}

1.3k words

A/N: I've been studying math so hard that I came up with this... I don't know if all readers can understand this, so I recommend googling the inclined terms(which are mathematical ones). Also know that e^(iπ)+1=0 is the most beautiful formula in mathematics,,

p.s: Why is eˣ okay but e^(iπ)+1=0 not? Tumblr mysteries..

Tags: Math(?), Choking, Creampie, Loving Sex

******

Minnie is like the eˣ function to you. The way her consistency fills up your heart—eˣ differentiated is still eˣ—, her always positive character—its domain is always positive number—, her out-of-this-world beauty—e^(iπ)+1=0—, and–

The way her back forms an exponential arc in front of you.

"F-fuck,"

On her knees Minnie is taking your pounding, with her entire body. Her back arcs upward to meet you face to face, as she turns her head back to you and into a blissful kiss.

You draw the sin x graph with your tongue inside her mouth. Up and down, up and down, corresponding to her tongue that draws a cos x graph, intertwined with yours completely—but following the exact same period of 2π.

You push her down to the mattress, and now you can see the hyperbolic curve of her waist. You grab on the narrow valley of it and continue pounding.

What you are doing to Minnie is distorting the perfectness of her body, although it's your way of worshiping it. The circular dark orbs in her elliptical eyes disappear into her head.

You choke her from behind. The amount of air getting in her lungs converges to zero, while the pleasure diverges to infinity.

Her fingers dig into the mattress as you pace up. You feel her walls pulse like sin x. Instant grips and loosenings of her pussy indicate that she is now close. You contribute the last drop of your patience for her orgasm—the maximum, when the derivative of her pleasure hits the X axis.

"I'm cummi–"

Minnie cums with a scream silenced by your grip around her neck. You for a moment regret restraining her voice, but no. You can just make her cum again, again, and again.

You flip her around to face you and resume the race. The race of which finish line you all are aware of obviously.

You kiss her again, this time drawing infinity with your tongue. It of course doesn't mean that it'll last forever, but you feel like it lasts as long as eternity itself. Rather, it would mean the neverending high you two are sharing right now.

Integral. Integrity. You and Minnie in bed together can't be counted as two. Undivided pleasure travels your connected, shared body. No boundaries are found between you and Minnie as you are pulled into a tight hug by her. You can feel how smooth her skin is, how soft her breasts are like it's your body—forget about the breasts, maybe.

Actually, it sounds quite right because it is your body—it's been so long since you lost count how many times you two told each other "You're mine,". Minnie moaning beneath you is yours. Yours to savor, yours to please, yours only to love.

Yes, yours only, and vice versa. You two are bijective functions. Each of your factors matches each of hers, without duplicity.

Again, you're hers only. Minnie is here, taking your cock to define you, to differentiate you, to integrate you. Minnie is moaning underneath your body, to be your proof, to be your solution, to be your answer.

"Are you close, babe?"

You were just about to say that you were, but you are so predictable a problem—Minnie knows the exact formulae to use when dealing with you.

"I am,"

Go ahead, she eyes you. You crook your neck to nibble on her ear and whisper,

"I fucking love you, Minnie,"

The moment you cum inside her, you are sent out of this world. The real world means nothing to you. Imaginary sensations feel more real than the real ones. Like you're feeling the i itself—the imaginary number.

1×1=1. You and Minnie just can't get separated. When it comes to you two, it's not the concept of addition or subtraction. You two love each other so it's 1×1=1. When you two are away from each other, you're still one, because 1÷1=1. Being 2 means you and Minnie are two 1s, which makes you two different individuals—right now, and of course always, you'd disprove that proudly.

You already came about half a minute ago, but you don't pull out. You see Minnie's heaving back and it's perfectly symmetrical—her erector muscles being the perfect axis for it.

It's an even function —f(x)=f(-x)— that you get visual, psychological satisfaction from. That way you could split her perfectly into two halves.

Your hands softly rub on her back. She still is in the middle of recovery, as you can feel her bumping heartbeats on your palm.

"Y-you feel so warm, baby,"

Minnie slightly lifts her limp head from the bed and murmurs with such a low tone. You then pull out and lie down next to her. Turning your body to her side you brush her hair behind her ears. She looks at you and gives you a satisfied, satisfying smile that could literally melt anything, everything.

Minnie's hand comes up to touch your face and–

It hits your still hard dick and she looks at it.

"Wanna go for another round?"

Minnie asks you, sitting up and getting on your thighs. It's a question with only one answer, it's another function that defines you two—a constant function, no matter what she says your answer is yes, undeniably.

Minnie grabs it, strokes it softly, and you feel your lust being recharged. Seems like she doesn't even look for your answer, anyway.

"Holy–"

You're inside her. Right after insertion Minnie starts to ride you out fast. You can only gasp at the feeling of her already-fucked inside, which is what you do every fucking time. Minnie kneeling, each of her knees are next to your both sides as she waves her hip and waist on you.

"Ah, fuck… You can last longer, right?"

She again asks you a question, locking fingers with you. Just like before, your answer is undoubtedly yes. Minnie then brings your hands to her lower waist and leans down forward, completely relying her weight on you. She lets your head into her embrace and whispers into your ear.

"Warm me up again, baby."

Your hands go down to grab on her hips and you begin fucking her upward with pace. As soon as your thrusts start to fuck your previous cum deeper into her womanhood, she moans beautifully into your ear.

Her arms tighten around your head, but the only tightness you can recognize is that of what's around your cock. She nibbles on your ear. Hot breaths tickle your ear, and her teeth on it motivates you to go even faster, rougher, and harsher. That's what loving sex is to her, and of course, to you too.

Your right hand detaches from her ass and gets on the back of her head. Minnie then lifts her head slightly up to fall into a dirty kiss. This time, you review the whole session beforehand.

You are drawing sin x, cos x, and infinity randomly with your tongue. Her back begins to arc exponentially, so you strengthen your hand on her head to keep her body tangent to yours. Your fingers on her ass rubs on her another hole, to make her pleasure diverge to infinity.

And everything you're doing earns her uncontrolled scream of ecstasy, as if she's trying to make an auditory definition of orgasm.

She again closes in to lock lips with you, and soon she cums. On your still-moving cock she cums hard, and in your mouth she lets the orgasmic sound out. It travels through your body fast, reverberates in your skull, sending you over the edge in no time.

You push deep into her for the last time before violently cumming inside her again.

It's explosive, you would term it. Minnie's entire body reacts to every spurt you shoot inside her.

"Holy fuck…"

You let out a sigh of words.

"Baby, that was…"

On top of her lungs she says, only to pause for breathing.

That was awesome, yeah. You know that, because you feel just like her too.

You look into her eyes, and find the excellence itself, the perfect, absolute beauty—e^(iπ)+1=0 .

#kpop male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop smut #minnie smut #gidle smut

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karinab00bs · 3 months

Text

Hi everyone!

Here’s the masterlist

Also i’m excited to announce that I'm opening free requests for long stories NSFW.

Here are some rules to keep in mind:

No minors idol

No trope requests, I write based on my mood

Only writing gg idol x male reader

Updates when i have a time🙂

If you're interested, please send me a message or click the button for 'ask me anything' and send me the idol’s name with the group’s name!

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midastouch-zaza · 13 days

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Which K-Pop idols would love to have a really tall boyfriend/lover?

Like at least 1 foot/30cm taller than her.

[Today you all should settle with this fun ask. I've been all day outside and now I'm too tired to write. Tomorrow two double posts to compensate for today]

So, idols with really talk boyfriend? Here's my answers:

Yeojin of Loona

Size kink go brrr. No like, she's 1,48, even a whatever guy with a medium height looks like a giant standing next to her. The fact that she's so small makes so funny to absolutely destroy her during sex: you could literally ravage her pussy in the standing full Nelson position for hours without even getting tired.

Soyeon of G-Idle

Another very short idol, she's just 1,57. As the main producer and responsable for the success of her group, she would having boyfriend towering over her in bed, while stretching her pussy until she reaches for new high notes.

Wendy of Red Velvet

Guess what? Yeah, 1,59 lol. As someone obsessed with fitness and gym, she would love a strong and tall lover who can completely dom her in bed. Just immagine fucking her ass in the mating press, and her feet reach barely your knees.

Hwasa of Mamamoo

Thicc queen is actually just 1,55, but I guess her fat ass could be very distracting. Don't worry tho, once you're fucking as rabbits, she would forget her own height, age and name too. A decent height is necessary to easily wreck her asshole until she can't walk the next day.

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majorblinks · 2 years

Text

for all the right reasons ((g)i-dle miyeon)

(smut, former teacher/student, public sex, facefucking, breeding kink, brief mention of blood, age gap [both consenting adults though obviously], fluff? lmfao there are feelings involved, 12k words)

Oh, it’s probably morally reprehensible, or whatever. She’s too young. She’s your student - or she was, once, and that should be enough for you to never, ever lay a hand on her, for you to file away those Bambi eyes and all that blonde hair and every soft, delicate curve of her body in a folder labeled one-way ticket to hell - that’s what it should be, but-

“You want me,” Miyeon says, the first day you two ever start. She’s smiling like the princess everyone thinks she is. “I think you’re gonna, like, die if you don’t touch me.”

She’s evil for saying it, but you’re evil, too, because she just happens to be right.

It’s a fluke, or something of the sort. Fate hates you, or some other bullshit. You’re in a bar on a weekday, and you’re not looking for company - just a little reprieve. You’re a high school language teacher and you write, sometimes. You’re here for some inspiration.

It doesn’t take long at all for you to find it: twenty minutes, thirty. You’re sitting at the bar, nursing a drink, and like something choreographed from a movie scene, she walks right in.

You don’t realize who she is at first, obviously. You hear the footfalls of heels, see the swing of long hair - you’re not about to dwell on it, but she sits down right next to you, and - yep, you’re dwelling. You hear the sweet voice as she talks to the bartender, see the dainty, graceful way she moves. She’ll be your muse for the night, you decide. You tilt your head, and you drink her in instead of your whiskey.

See, she’s perfect, from the jump; that’s where it all goes wrong. She’s the kind of girl people write songs about - sonnets, scriptures - and it’s all downhill from there.

Your gaze starts at her shoes first, and that’s the first mistake - they’re ridiculous, black and patterned with butterflies, a thick, platform heel; oh, it’s a fairy, a manic pixie dream girl come to life, you can work with that - and you find the second mistake as your eyes trail up: white thigh-high stockings, lace at the top, delicate and pretty against slender, creamy thighs - a fairy and a wet dream walking, that’s a killer combination. The third’s as you reach the blue dress, patterned with white flowers: the tiny waist to go with it, the halter neckline and the sharp collarbone, and all this silky, wavy ash-blonde hair, and then-

That fourth mistake, the nail in the coffin. You look at her face and your voice gets promptly stuck in your throat.

Cho Miyeon’s been watching you watch her, and she must see the exact moment you recognize who she is, what you’ve done, because when you meet her eyes, horrified, she’s smiling.

“Oh, hey,” she says, all too casual.

“Hi,” you say, and she crosses one leg over the other in those fucking thigh-highs. You don’t look. You can’t. “Miyeon. Hi.”

Miyeon tilts her head, and that curtain of blonde hair tumbles with her - she’s blonde now, and it’s such a good look on her, and you shouldn’t be noticing how good she looks - and says, “You remember me.”

She doesn’t seem like she’s really surprised. “Of course,” you say, and immediately realize how it sounds. “I mean - it wasn’t that long ago, was it? And you were always an excellent student. A - a real joy to have in class. You know.”

You’re just saying it because you don’t know what else to say - but it’s not like it’s untrue. Every memory you have of Cho Miyeon in your class is her sitting off to the right, by the window, dark-haired and with this air of benevolent elegance, something of teenage royalty. All her classmates called her a princess - you remember that. An inside joke; here's Princess Miyeon, acing the test again, asking all the right questions, helping everyone with their assignments. It was fitting enough for you to let it slide.

Now here she is, in front of you, suiting the title more than ever. She’s so beautiful - and that’s where you stop yourself, because - really, it hasn’t been that long since she was that brunette girl in your classroom. Less than five years, certainly. Or more? Fuck, time, teaching; it all gets away from you, and she’s wearing those stockings-

Miyeon’s smile slants, turns to something more mischievous.

“I know,” she says, and it sort of feels like she’s making fun of you. Well, she’d have the right. You sound like an idiot. Just because you were her language teacher doesn’t mean you’re anywhere near eloquent. “Thanks. For the record, you were always my favorite teacher, sir.”

There’s a spin she puts on the last word - or maybe you’re imagining it. She blinks at you, sweet-faced, all doe-eyed innocence. You’re imagining it. You have to be.

“Oh,” you say, and your voice comes out odd, thick. “Well, you don’t have to call me sir anymore. It’s not like I’m still your teacher.”

“Right,” says Miyeon, eyes twinkling. “But you still are a teacher, aren’t you?”

You stare, puzzled, still thrown by her very presence. “What?”

She asks again, patiently, and you give her the answer - yes - and then out of nowhere she’s managed to coax you deeper into conversation - do you like it, what’s the best part, what’s the worst, what else are you up to - and it’s a foregone conclusion. Someone gets her a drink and she gets chattier when she’s tipsy, still sweet and friendly and gorgeous, cheeks flushing in the dim light. She talks about herself, a little - she’s in college, she’s thinking of taking a trip, she’s single. You don’t remember how you landed on that last one but once it’s out there it’s basically all over, from there.

It definitely crosses a line, between former teacher and student. It’s somewhere in there. She nudges your arm when you make her laugh, then grips it loosely when you add something that makes her laugh harder. Her hair falls in her face and you don’t push it back for her but she looks at you like she knows you want to. You forget things like she’s so much younger than you and you aren’t allowed to stare at her thighs in her stockings and wonder if her underwear matches.

She’s a perfect conversationalist like she might’ve been trained in the art form; that’s how she gets you, reels you in. She’s clever without being cutting, witty without being condescending. Princess, indeed - it’s the kindness, it’s the bright eyes and the lace. No - not the lace. You should really stop thinking about the lace-

“Hey,” Miyeon murmurs. Neither of you are fully drunk, but you’re playing into it, pretending like that’s the reason you’re crossing boundaries. Miyeon’s playing with the cuff of your sleeve. One of her ridiculous boots is balanced on the rung of your stool, brushing your ankle. “We should go to the bathroom, or something.”

She flicks her eyes up at you through her lashes, and there’s a curl to her mouth.

“Miyeon,” you say, acting like the room didn’t just get ten degrees hotter, your pants ten times more uncomfortable.

“You were wrong, before.” She leans in close, and you inhale her perfume - something sugary, intoxicating. Her lips are wet from where she’s been biting them. These are things you aren’t supposed to notice, but rules and regulations are long gone by now. “It’s been forever since you were my teacher.”

“Watch it,” you warn her, kind of sharply.

It’s a mistake, being firm with her - her eyebrows lift with clear interest. “Yes, sir,” she says, somehow self-satisfied, and leans back; it’s not far enough, and you can still smell her, can still see the pleased glint hidden in her irises.

“Miyeon.” Your throat dries up.

“Oh, come on,” she says mildly, and brushes her hands over the lace decorating her thighs. “We’re both adults now. You’re not even that much older than me. Ten years at most. Less than that, probably.” You’re staring at her stockings again and she notices. “Plus,” she continues, humor lilting her tone, “You want me.”

You can’t take her eyes off her thighs, can’t stop thinking about shoving up her dress and bending her right over the bar, can’t stop fantasizing about the faces she’d make as you fuck her, the noises, the slick sounds of her pussy. You can’t admit it, because it’d be fucked up. You can’t deny it, because you want her too bad to lie. You don’t know how you got here so fast, and-

Miyeon’s grinning like she can read your mind, and she’s close again, fingers skimming down your shirt.

“I think you’re gonna, like, die if you don’t touch me,” she says, conversationally.

She’s got it right on the money. You can’t say anything, and all of a sudden both of your hands have found the curve of her waist, and she’s out of her seat, standing between your legs. She’s an angel you’d give your whole life to worship, her blonde hair, her eyes, her body - she’s a dream, and she’s leaning in further, breath hot as she whispers in your ear.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Miyeon says, lowly, and the airiness in her voice goes straight to your dick. “The feeling’s very mutual.” You can almost hear the smirk in her words, something fanged and predatory. You might have to rethink her divinity. “You wouldn’t fucking believe how wet I am right now.”

Oh, that’s it. There are no angels in the room, here - the devil’s clever like that, hiding itself in pretty blonde princesses. You’d die to worship her, die to sin for her: it’s all the same.

“I’m right with you,” Miyeon says, steeped in suggestion, in implication - on her inflection alone you can hear how she’d sound moaning around your cock. “I wanted you to fuck me the second I saw you. If you don’t get that dick inside of me right now I think I’m gonna drop dead.”

It’s a threat, it’s a promise, it’s theatrics - and how could anyone refuse her, when she puts it like that?

“Well,” you say, and you stand, struck and burning. You’re giving in. You’re a man, you’re weak; you’re no match for the devil in a dress like that. “I’d hate for you to die so young.”

You’re playing into it, and it’s still fucked up. You’re ten years older than her, or something like that. She’s calling you sir and you’re seconds away from calling her a nickname you shouldn’t. You wanna pull her onto your lap, onto your cock, tangle your hands in her hair, get her screaming and squirting, make her yours and yours alone-

“Well,” says Miyeon, mimicking you. “Then we agree.”

She’s all of your filthiest fantasies wrapped up in one. You’re hopeless. That’s sort of how the story starts.

Miyeon drags you to the bathroom, and puts her money where her mouth is. Well, so to speak.

Actually, you’re the one using your mouth - you lock yourselves in a stall and a beat later you’re sunk to your knees, pressing Miyeon against the door. Those fucking thigh-highs, driving you insane - you grip her thighs hard, force them apart, sink your teeth into the skin right above the lace. You’ll leave bruises and you already know it. You’ll leave more.

“Fuck,” Miyeon whines, and it’s like all her bravado has waned, all at once. You shove her dress up around her waist, and you had it dead-on: her panties are white and lacy like her thigh-highs, and you can’t believe she wears shit like this casually, can’t fathom how she walks out of the house without men throwing themselves at her feet. “Fuck, fuck-“

“Dirty mouth, huh?” you mutter, and sneak a glance up at her face. Oh, that’s a vision - the way all her delicate, angelic features contort as you drag a finger across the crotch of her panties, find her so wet she’s soaking through the fabric. She’s sensitive. It’s irresistible. “Shit,” you say, and you almost laugh, but you’re too worked up to get it out. “You weren’t lying - you’re soaked, baby.”

“Obviously,” bites out Miyeon, but the frustration both drains and builds to a point as you hook your fingers in the side of her panties and pull them down around her knees. “Oh - please, please, touch me-“

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip. “Look at that,” you say, and slip your thumb across her clit - she’s so turned on that just the graze sends her shaky, knees wobbling. One of your hands slides to her hip, steadying her. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, Miyeon, you know that?”

It’s the praise, it’s like it kills her: Miyeon makes a high, keening noise that can’t classify as a response, and her cheeks are so red. You’ve barely touched her and she’s debauched, falling apart - “You’re so needy,” you add, enjoying the way she blushes hot. “You want me to take care of you, huh? That’s all you wanted?”

“Yes, please,” she pants, and when you slip a finger inside of her she moans so loud you’d be surprised if you two got out of this unnoticed. “Please, I just want more, I need more-“

“Be patient, princess,” you murmur, and she stills completely.

Fuck. Fuck. Well, it’s one hell of a slip-up.

Immediately you stop your finger inside of her, but then you feel her cunt clench, and she’s so, so wet - and just like that, you know.

“Miyeon,” you say, and your voice comes out gravelly.

“No,” she says, breathy, petulant. You can’t come back from this - that’s where you’re at. Your students used to call her this in your classroom. It’s sort of fucked up. It’s so fucking hot. She bucks her hips, and you’re finger-fucking her again, and she whimpers, ducking her head.

“Princess,” you start, and the cry she makes is like music, like gospel.

“Yes,” she chokes out, and you can’t believe this was the same girl leveling you with a stalemate back at the bar, challenging you toe-to-toe, weapons locked and loaded - can’t believe she’s now leaking all over your fingers, whining and desperate, begging please, please, please. Maybe you should’ve known. The brattiest girls love to get the most submissive. “Please - I need more, I need your cock - please, sir, I’ll be really good, my pussy will be so good for you, I swear-“

It’s the sir that gets you, but also everything before and after. You haven’t asked her to and she’s already begging; it’s adorable, it’s got you so hard your self-control’s rapidly slipping out of your hands.

“Alright, alright.” You’re unable to deny her anything when she talks like that, looks at you with those eyes. You rise, slowly - and then before you turn her around, grant her every wish, you take her gorgeous face in both hands and ask, “You’ll be good? You promise?”

You’re teasing her, but she’s so far gone she doesn’t even seem to notice. Miyeon nods rapidly, opens her mouth to say something - it’s not an invitation you’re about to pass up; you have to kiss her - so you do.

There’s something sweet about it, something filthy - you’ve never had a kiss so consuming and hot and wet, not during any fuck, any hook-up - and Miyeon makes small, whining sounds as you lick into her mouth, and you’ve got her cheeks in your hands, gripping firm as you kiss her. She’s tiny against you, her body all slender and slight and soft, and maybe that’s what makes it so hot; you have her like putty in your hands, like you could mold her, break her. Like you could do anything at all to her - to her mouth, her hair, her throat, her tits, her hips, thighs, cunt, ass - and she’d just let you. You kiss her and it’s like she lets you own her.

“Good girl,” you say into her mouth, and you know you do by the way she melts. “So good. I’m gonna fuck your little pussy now, okay? I’m gonna give you what you want, baby. You’ve been so patient, princess.” It’s a lie - you’ve never seen anyone so desperate - but when you flip her around and get to work on your zipper, you doubt she’ll bother with technicalities.

You slide your dick inside of her, and she collapses.

Her pussy is like heaven, and it’s the only word for it - it’s tight, but she’s so wet that you slide in like her cunt was made for you, made to form-fit your cock - maybe it was some twisted hand of fate after all, that led you here. Maybe you were always going to end up fucking her in a filthy club bathroom, calling her princess, wrapping your hand around her neck - maybe even since the first time she walked into your classroom, this was the inevitability, the only way it could ever go.

It’s a thought that’s pretty and fucked up in the same instant. Well, that’s Miyeon - well, you think, at least it fits.

She looks like an angel and she submits like one, too: knees buckling, leaning into you like she wants you to eat her alive, sink straight into her skin. You’ve got one hand on her hip and the other carding through her silky blonde hair; where she ends, where you begin - ah, it’s all the same. It’s corruption, it’s damnation - this girl never could’ve been the devil, not with this perfect pussy, not with her moans ringing out like music - and you get the feeling you’re ruining her, wrecking her. She turns her head halfway and there are tears in her gorgeous eyes, decorating her lashes. She’s never been quite so stunning.

“Fuck-“ All Miyeon’s words are slurring, loosening around the edges - you tug on her hair and if you weren’t holding her up, around your cock, around your fist, you know she’d fall right to the ground. “Thank you, sir - fuck - your cock feels so good, thank you, thank you - my pussy really needed it-“ She’s babbling, drooling, her tears smudging her eyeliner, her mascara. Her eyes squeeze shut and she clutches at the door, hands pressed flat, and lets you sheath your dick inside of her, again and again, rougher than you should be, so raw it should be criminal - her pussy is holy, or you’ve got Satan wrapped around your cock. Duality of woman; Miyeon’s got many talents and getting fucked into oblivion must top the list.

She cums; she’s too incoherent to warn you, but you feel it. You yank her hair and keep going. She’s fully crying now, pleas slipping from her mouth like wine, like water, like the way her cunt’s leaking all over you like a faucet, and you bury yourself inside of her, turn up the tap - she cums again, again-

“You like me ruining your pussy, huh?” you growl right at her ear, biting at her neck. It’s animalistic, it’s leaving your mark - well, one of them, at least. There’s her thighs, there’s how it’s not likely she’ll even be able to walk after this - okay, you’re leaving several. “Slutty little princess. You’d take whatever I’d give you - you’d let me drag you out there and fuck you in front of everybody, wouldn’t you?”

Miyeon loves the idea so much it’s like she’d give up religion entirely; you can tell by the way her back arches, by the way her whines get even less comprehensible, her perfect face crumpling in pleasure. It’s a plan for another day.

“You want everyone to know,” you hiss, “that you’re just a perfect little cocksleeve for me. I know, baby. I know.”

Oh, a face like that - you should be worshipping her, should be soft and gentle, wary of bruises and breaking - and you’re sure every other guy treats her like a goddess, something to revere and please.

For what it’s worth, you do, too - it’s just that you’re pleasing her by fucking her so hard she’s a sloppy, sobbing mess, pleading yes, sir - more, harder, fuck, fuck - you’re paying her reverence by leaning in close and saying in her ear-

“I’m gonna cum inside you, princess.” It’s not a question, not a request. Miyeon’s already nodding her head wildly, tears streaming down her cheeks - she’ll give you an answer anyway. Facets of royalty; she knows her manners, her lessons. “I’m gonna fill up that tight cunt, make that pussy cream - tell me how much you want it, baby.”

Your voice comes out through gritted teeth; the demands release harsher than the way you’re fucking her, and you think you might be tearing her pussy up, might be destroying it. She’s crying and blubbering and moaning, tripping over that tongue in her mouth trying to respond - your thumb’s fast on her clit and it’s double the stimulation, and it’s pushing her over the edge again - she puts so much effort into being good, and-

“I need it.” Miyeon reaches a hand behind herself, scrabbling blindly for your back, your ass, like she actually thinks you’ll pull out if she doesn’t beg hard enough. You’ve never seen someone so openly needy with such little coaxing - oh, your little princess. No one’s ever been able to satisfy her. “Sir, please - I need your cum inside me, I need to feel it, I need to be filled up, need you to breed me - I was really good, I deserve it-“

Her words break off, shatter on the floor; you think she cums again but you can’t be sure. It’s the words breed me that do it - that’s another thing to revisit, to play into and taunt her with, but she’s right, too: she’s been so, so good. You’ve never had a better pussy, never had something more perfect enveloping your cock - she’s sopping wet, so much you can hear it every time you thrust into her, can hear how her cunt gushes as you rail her. She’s engulfed every one of your senses - the sound of her, the smell of her, the feel of her, all silky skin and hair and a vice grip on your dick - it’s an overload, it’s overwhelming-

You bury yourself inside of her, right to the hilt, and you cum.

It’s a flash flood, wave after wave - you cum, and then a split second later it’s as if Miyeon turns to liquid herself, all her muscles giving out - and you grab her firmly around the waist, let her sink to the floor. It’s probably disgusting, it’s no place for an angel like her - but there’s nothing else to do. She spills herself into your lap, breathing hard into your shoulder, trembling like an earthquake’s just swept through her, wrecked all her bones and nerve endings like it’d decimate a city.

“Princess,” you whisper, and move her off of your cock, gently. You feel just as exhausted as she looks - you can't remember the last time you came that hard.

She doesn’t say anything, and just clutches at you tighter, pressing herself to your chest. One of your hands skates to her back, rubbing smooth circles.

“Miyeon,” you murmur, and she hides her face in your neck. “You okay?”

“Shh,” she says, lips against your skin. “Yes. Perfect. Full. I - give me - a minute.”

You get the message: she’s too well-fucked to move, to speak, to stand. “Alright, baby. Take your time.”

She hums right under your ear, tired and pleased and spent, and you cradle her slight frame in your arms, mindful of oversensitivity. You don’t know how many times she came - you’ve never seen a girl do that before, snap and start cumming over and over, clenching tight like she couldn’t stop. You’ll ask, you will. But, first-

You don’t know exactly how long it is, with Miyeon attached to you like this, the smell of sex and the sugary-sweetness of her blonde hair drenching the air: could’ve been weeks, you think, half-delirious. Eons. The world could’ve ended and you wouldn’t have changed a thing: the girl in your lap’s gotta be an angel, like you said. She has connections with a higher power. She’d handle it.

(That, or she’s got the devil on the other line, willing to bow down and serve her. Well, you’d understand. You doubt any deity could ever resist her.)

Eventually, Miyeon extricates herself from your body, slumping back against the door of the bathroom stall. She pulls her knees up, parts them - her eyes are shut, but you can see her defiled pussy, lips swollen, thick white cum drooling from her slit to the floor.

“Fuck,” you exhale without thinking, and see a small smile flicker at Miyeon’s mouth.

“Hey,” she says, and parts her legs wider. More of your semen leaks out of her. “Can you-“ Her words are still shaky, unsteady, shot through with fuck-drunk slurring. “Give me it. Your cum.”

You cock an eyebrow at her, even though her eyes are still firmly shut, sleepy. “I think I already did that, princess.”

She pouts at you, peeks open one brown Bambi eye. “No,” she says, inching towards a whine, and taps her full bottom lip. “I wanna taste it.”

Oh, she’s gonna be the death of you - but you kind of figured that out, already.

“Cumslut,” you say, and she smiles prettily, and you’d never be able to deny her a damn thing.

You take two fingers and ease them just inside her pink, puffy cunt, scooping out your own cum. Miyeon hisses air out through her teeth, on edge and tender, at every part of her, but scoots closer anyway; parts her lips, sticks her tongue out like some rabid animal, desperately, greedily in heat.

“Christ,” you mutter, and you take her chin in one hand, and feed her your cum with the other.

The moment your fingers slip past her mouth it’s like she’s been starving all day: her slick little tongue laves over your skin, curling hot and wet as she licks and sucks your cum off your fingers - and there’s no way she’s not tasting herself, it’s straight out of her pussy - and she’s blushing again, aware of her own wantonness but powerless to stop herself. Still, Miyeon makes no apologies, no take-backs for her desperation. She eats your cum off of you, swallows it down so easily.

Her white panties are tangled around her ankles, and you pull her feet into your lap, beginning to work the lacy underwear from around her ridiculous shoes. “Good?” you ask, amused, horny - but you’re past that. You’ll let her wind down.

“I am kind of a cumslut,” Miyeon says dreamily, head lolling. She rubs her thighs together, dress still shucked up around her hips. “I love your cum inside of me, sir. Feels - feels really good. All warm and-“ She’s speaking in half-sentences, still thoroughly fucked out. “Nice. And perfect.” She passes the heel of her hand over her clit and winces, raw, sore, satisfied. “Like… fuck.”

“Fuck indeed,” you say, pleased at your handiwork. You finally wrestle the panties from the platform heels of her boots, stuff them in your back pocket. At first you think she doesn’t notice, but she peers up at you with those dark, irresistible eyes, and you realize she’s allowing it.

Ah, well. You’re all playing games, in the end. “Hey,” you say, switching tone to soft, wiping at her face with your knuckle. Her makeup’s a lost cause, her eyeliner smeared and lipstick a wreck from where you kissed the life out of her, from where she slobbered around your fingers, tasting your cum - her hair’s long gone, too, a disaster thanks to your tugging and pulling. She looks exactly like everything you’ve been doing to her. “You’re okay, right?”

Miyeon blinks, reaching up almost absentmindedly to place her hand on your arm, thumbing your wrist. So - maybe it’s not quite the game you thought it was. “What do you mean?” she asks, clarity returning with each flick of her fluttering lashes.

“You…” You swipe underneath her eyes. “You were crying. Like, really, really crying.”

Miyeon tilts her head, like she’s confused - but then a smile plays at the corners of her mouth, finding ground and spreading.

“Oh,” she says, startled, entertained. “You’re worried about me.”

She’s teasing you. She’s so adorable that you kind of allow it. “Old habits,” you say. “I mean - you were my student. It was in the job description.”

It’s a filthy point, and her nose scrunches, delighted. Miyeon scoots closer to you until her knees bump yours, and you’re still stroking your fingers across her high cheekbones.

“Hey,” she says, more serious. “I’m fine, I’m amazing. It’s sweet of you to worry. It’s just, like-“ You slip a hand into her hair and it’s gentle this time, caring; her chin tips, eyes closing slowly, like she’s a puppy and you’re hitting the exact right spot. “It was so intense - in the best way, obviously - and it was like… you were fucking my pussy, but I was feeling it everywhere.” Her palm drifts to her heart, rounds to a fist. She’s still smiling, nearing rueful, like she’s well aware of her own dramatics. “It was like - I think I’m in love with your cock, or something.”

“You’re cute,” you say, helpless.

“I know,” she says, and she’s looking at you again with those wide, doe-like eyes. “I think my pussy was made for you.”

It’s a dirty sentiment - and it’s one you agree with wholeheartedly, thinking of the impossibly tight, wet heat of her cunt, drinking you in, the perfect fit, the way she stretched and swore and took it - but there’s something in the sweetness in her eyes that makes you think of nuance, of hidden implications. You’ll get there, one day. You’ve barely begun.

“So,” you say, snapping the tension that’s gotten too affectionate for the moment. “You want me to breed you, huh.”

Miyeon gapes at you, then flushes pink, shifts forward so she’s almost in your lap again. “Shut up,” she says, tracing your jaw with a manicured nail. “I don’t - I don’t even know where that came from. I’m on birth control. And I’d fucking kill you if you actually got me pregnant. I just - I think the idea is hot, that’s all.”

“Alright.” You lift her hips, smoothing down her dress and placing her in your lap all in one motion. You’ve zipped up your pants, tucked away your cock - it’s like pillowtalk but you know you’ll have to wrap it up. “Just trying to see where I’m at, with you.” You settle a hand around her tiny waist, skimming her ribs. “You like being called princess, you like calling me sir, like pretending to be bred but would hate the real thing-“

“Right,” says Miyeon, suddenly sort of sleepy again, nudging her face into the crook of your neck.

“You’re a cumslut.” The words are nasty but the way you’re saying them, smoothing a hand over her hair - it’s all fondness, all feeling. Oh, you really dug yourself a hole here with this one. There’s no coming back from it. “And your pussy is incredible. And you sob like you’re dying when you get fucked good enough.”

“Yep.”

“Am I missing anything?”

Miyeon doesn’t emerge from your neck, just holds out her hand, curls it in a grabbing motion. “Phone,” she says, muffled by your collarbone.

You fish it out of your pocket, charmed. Miyeon adjusts herself in your lap, and you let your hand drop to her hip, balancing her; it’s worse, it’s all falling into place like puzzle pieces. You kiss her hair and she begins to enter her number into your phone. There’s something strangely domestic about it, and it’s such an awful idea, to think it - more damning than the sex, than the cum still dripping out of Miyeon’s pussy. It’s sweet. It’s comfortable. That’s the first - the second - the tenth problem, at least.

“There,” says Miyeon, and hands your phone back to you. “I gave you my number and texted myself.” Her eyes glitter as she tucks her knees up to your chest. “Now I’ve got your number. That means you can’t accidentally grow a guilty conscience and forget about me.”

“Thanks.” You can’t stop looking at her - she’s so gorgeous, so wrecked, your pristine little princess fucked and filled and wrapped up in your arms. “And there’s no way in hell I’d ever forget about you.”

You’re just bouncing back her own words at her, theoretically, but Miyeon beams like she knows you mean more than that. Hey, you did say she was always your best student: she knows how to read between the lines.

You’ve got a wet spot on your pants and Miyeon’s wobbling on unsteady legs, so badly that you basically have to hold her up around the waist - but your pants are black anyway, and you’ve cleaned most of the ruined makeup off of her face. There are efforts made to be presentable. Miyeon tilts her cheek into your shoulder and won’t make eye contact with anyone. The bar’s busy. You pretend not to notice, tug her closer. You grin at the bartender, who raises his eyebrows like he’s impressed - well, he should be.

It’s cold outside - you think Miyeon will freeze in her tiny dress, so you keep your arms around her, and kiss the top of her head. Miyeon smiles at you, all teeth, all tenderness. Her eyes are warm, radiant, softening every edge of the night; she stands on her tiptoes, slots her mouth to yours.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” you murmur, fingertips dancing down the curve of her back.

“Probably,” agrees Miyeon, and lets her nose brush yours. “Take me home.”

You do. She doesn’t let you into her apartment - my roommate’s a whore who will try to jump your bones, she tells you matter-of-factly, and doesn’t elaborate, so you let that one go - but you walk her to the door - you’re a gentleman - and then you pin her up against it and slip your hand up her dress, get your fingers on her clit, inside her, cover her mouth as she cums - okay, so maybe you’re not.

“I’m keeping your panties, princess,” you say, after. It’s a fair trade.

Miyeon’s cheeks are flushed pink, and you’ve never found the phrase post-orgasm glow quite so apt. “Okay,” she says, voice softer than her skin as you rub between her shoulder blades, tangling her blonde hair.

You laugh out loud. “There’s no way you’re being shy right now,” you say. “I just fucked you in public-“ You gesture out at the open night, at the occasionally passing cars- “for the second time in an hour.” Your cum from earlier is now dripping down her thighs, too, but that one’s almost too obvious to call attention to.

“A bathroom stall is not public.”

“It was a public bathroom, Miyeon. It’s in the name.”

“You’re lecturing me on semantics?” Miyeon asks, eyes narrowing, a playful slant to her lips. “What are you, my teacher?”

Oh, she loves this - and at this point, you’re too far gone to pretend you don’t kind of love it too. “Shut up,” you say, forgoing maturity, and kiss her one more time, because you have to.

It’s all such a disaster, and you already know this: because it’s too casual, too comfortable, too easy - to kiss her like you’ve got a claim to her, to cum inside her pussy like you own it. You think of framing her fluttering eyelashes and sated, tiny smile as you pull back, think of her in your bed, on your kitchen counter with her legs spread, in the passenger seat of your car with her hand wrapped around your cock. She’s got all the dirtiest parts of your imagination on lock with that face alone. It couldn’t be worse.

“I’ll see you later,” you say, suddenly breathless.

“See you,” Miyeon says, grinning at you - and you know right then that you’ll never be able to leave this alone.

You’re right. It’s a whirlwind. That same weekend, you call her, give her your address, ask her to come over - you accidentally end up on the phone for two hours before she even leaves her apartment, and nothing in the conversation ends up being about sex. You tell her about a new story you’re starting. She tells you about a class she’s taking that she hates, about a gig her friend Yuqi’s band is doing. It’s so easy to get caught up in conversation with her, to tell her about every thought that pops into your head, to listen as she tells you hers - there’s that word again. Easy. It’s bad.

Eventually, Miyeon says, “Oh, I was supposed to come over to fuck you, wasn’t I?”

It’s cute, it’s adorable, even when it shouldn’t be. “You forgot?” you ask, teasing. “I thought all this talk was just foreplay.”

“Yeah, I’m, like, dripping. Talking about how Yuqi’s gonna have to find a replacement for her notoriously flaky keyboardist really got me going.”

You never expect Miyeon to get sarcastic, to get snarky and dry, but it’s always so charming when she does. Even more charming when every time, without fail, she always follows it up with-

“Sorry.” Miyeon breathes out on a giggle, bordering bashful. She can rarely be sassy without apologizing for it immediately after. Oh, it’s her pedigree, it’s the nature of a monarch, all her humility, her politeness - she can never keep a bit running for long.

“You should be,” you say. “Get over here, princess.”

A smile seeps into her voice. “Yes, sir.”

“Oh, my god.” There’s a loud, feminine voice on Miyeon’s end, somewhere in the background, crowing with open delight. “Cho Miyeon, are you having phone sex right now?”

“Nicha,” Miyeon says sharply, clearly scandalized.

“Oh my god.” The word’s a switch flipped: now the voice sounds equally scandalized. “You’re bringing out my government name? Is it that serious?”

Apparently, it is. “Ignore her,” Miyeon says, to you this time. “See you in fifteen minutes.”

You can’t back down from the opportunity to provoke her, especially when you’ve never quite seen her on edge, not the way she sounds right now. Whoever this Nicha person is - she knows exactly how to push Miyeon’s buttons. Well, you’ll take a page out of her book.

“Hey,” you say, grinning, “speaking of phone sex - you know, I wouldn’t be opposed-“

“Ugh!” You can practically hear Miyeon’s flustered expression through the phone, can see the pretty, flattering way she’d blush and pout and slump her shoulders. “You’re - you’re fucking impossible. Bye. Bye!”

“See you in fifteen minutes,” you echo, and laugh out loud when she huffs one more time, and hangs up the phone.

Look, your apartment’s nothing special - you’re on a teacher’s salary, for fuck’s sake. It’s serviceable, bland. You’ve got some plants, you’ve got well-kept bookshelves, you keep it clean and uncluttered. You’ve got some recessed lighting and a vintage sofa. Needless to say, your apartment’s never seen a lot of luxury. The walls, the furniture, the floors - they’re patently unused to pretty things. You don’t have the means, or the motive. It’s just you. There’s no one to impress.

Okay - until now, at least, because you’ve got-

“Oh, look at my girl.”

You’ve got your fists wrapped in blonde hair, got wet, vulgar gurgling sounds bouncing floor-to-ceiling, got the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen on her knees in front of you with your cock shoved down her throat. It’s all so new. If these walls could talk - but they can’t, so she’s all yours. You’ll live with it.

“You’re so good for me, princess. You love choking on that fucking cock, huh?”

You can’t believe Miyeon’s face: her fine eyebrows upturned, the tears streaking down her face, running dark with eyeliner, mascara - the way she’s slobbering around your cock, drooling. The way she tilts her chin back, breathes through her nose, relaxes her throat; the way she lets you grab her head and fuck her face like you’ve got the right to.

(Well, you do. She’s yours. She sure as hell feels it with your cock knocking right into her gag reflex.)

“You’re mine,” you say, and it’s so soon, so possessive. Miyeon, on her knees in front of you, a vision when she’s being fucked out and used. “This throat belongs to me, baby. I’m gonna fuck it whenever I want, okay?” You pause, give a particularly violent thrust, bite back a moan. “Don’t pretend like you don’t fucking love it.”

Miyeon’s not pretending at all, actually; she’s too far gone for that. Her top is already tugged up, her tits heaving with each wet, strangled breath, with each time you grab her skull and bury yourself into her throat - and then there’s the fact that her knees are parted, her underwear long gone, her own fingers deep inside her pussy.

No point in any pretense. It’s all out there on the table - oh, that’s an idea, bending her over every flat surface of your house; every piece of furniture can see this new, pretty thing you own - and she’s got nothing to hide. She’s so turned on just from letting you use her like your own personal fuckdoll. There’s no coming back from this, either.

It’s those Bambi eyes, wide and watery. She’s staring rapturously at you like she’d do anything for you - and only Cho Miyeon can turn a blowjob - well, a full facefuck, really - into something holy. She’s the one on her knees, sure, but there’s no other way to put it: she lets you ram your dick down her throat and you swear you’re seeing Jesus.

She’s got this expert mouth, the way she knows all the right things to do to take a cock like yours - she gags like it’s something purposeful, performative; even the way her spit dribbles down her chin seems choreographed.

“I’m gonna cum now,” you exhale, and it’s not a request, “down your fucking throat, and you’re gonna swallow it all because you’re just a hole for me to use, yeah?” You see Miyeon’s fingers moving faster in and out of her pussy, her rhythm turning sloppy, irregular - the way she gets off on being treated like your property is unbelievable, it’s godly. “Nasty fucking cumslut.” It’s a way to up the ante: she loves the praise, but she loves the degradation, too - she really will take whatever you give her and love it. “Gonna fill your throat with my cum, gonna make you fucking take it-“

You cum down her throat, buried completely, and feel her swallow over the head of your cock, gulping down all your cum. It’s a concerted effort, it’s somehow with all the focus in the world despite how she’s got her cunt stuffed with her own fingers, practically humping her own hand, leaking all over your floors - and when you slowly unsheathe yourself from Miyeon’s hot, wet mouth, her eyes fall shut, her jaw still half-open.

“Look at you,” you murmur, spent and a bit mesmerized - it wasn’t a small load, and you’re not an easy cock to take. You lower yourself to the ground next to her, stroking your thumb across the soft curve of her jaw. “Oh, princess.”

Miyeon opens her mouth, sticks out her pink tongue, shows it clean and cum-free.

You grin, a little wildly. “Good girl.”

“Thank you, sir.” You take her delicate wrist in your hand, bring her cum-slick fingers to your lips - you’ll have to get your mouth on that pussy eventually, but this’ll do for now. Miyeon doesn’t even make any effort to stand, just throws herself half in your lap, her bare thighs grazing your cock. She looks up at you with those glassy, hypnotizing eyes as you suck her own cum off of her fingers, trembling, oversensitive; you’re sure she made herself cum probably more than once. “You liked fucking my mouth?”

It’s the way she asks it, all this faux-innocence: she obviously knows you loved it and she’s just fishing for compliments. Well, you’ll indulge her.

“Of course,” you tell her, bemused by her transparency, and skim your thumb over one of her nipples, making her shiver. “You’re - you’re really good at that, you know.”

Miyeon tilts her head, tongues the corner of her red, well-fucked mouth. “At sucking cock?” Her expression shifts, takes a turn - there’s a wit hiding in the whole virtuous act she likes playing so well. “I’m just a natural, I guess. I’ve never sucked a cock before in my life.” She nods, all false humility. “That was my first time, actually.”

She’s fucking with you, but you’d probably never be able to catch it if you hadn’t picked up on at least a few of her tells by now. “Shut the fuck up,” you say, and all of a sudden you’re laughing, defenseless after your mildly world-shattering orgasm. “You’re so stupid.”

“No, you want the truth? I was a virgin before that night in the bar. You totally deflowered me.”

“Miyeon.”

“I’m being serious.” Miyeon’s smiling sweetly now, always ready to run a joke into the ground. She’s mostly naked on your lap, and she’s leaving a wet spot on your jeans from god knows how many times she came just from fingering herself, just from getting her throat fucked. It’s insane how she can still bring out this virginal angel just to mess with you. “I’m a good girl, like you said. You corrupted me. All of this sluttiness is entirely recent and completely your fault.”

“Shut up,” you complain, but you’re still laughing, and now Miyeon’s breaking character just to laugh at you, too.

“Sorry,” she says, and she’s burying her face into your neck, slightly delirious, her shoulders shaking with her giggles. “Sorry. You’re right. You caught me. I’ve been a whore this whole time.”

“I know, baby,” you tell her tolerantly, and kiss her temple, move some of the damp, unruly strands of hair off her cheeks. After a face-fuck that rough, it’s almost unfathomable that the energy between you two ends up getting too sentimental for the moment, but maybe it’s just the way things were always meant to go.

Like you said, there’s this new story you’re starting. It’s nothing long-term, nothing especially complicated. It’s about a girl, so it’s the oldest story ever told. It’s about longing, so you’re leaning into the melodrama. It’s all about the feeling, and where you’re at in your life, right now, you’ve never quite lived through the kind of love that’s in all the novels, so you’re mostly making it up, playing it by ear, pulling fiction from fantasy.

(That’s what you’ll tell yourself. It’s really too soon for it to be anything else.)

Things escalate, fast. Miyeon’s over at your place all the time. Sometimes you pick her up from some of her later classes, take her out, take her back to your apartment. They’re not dates, exactly. You both just have a love for cinema, for new bestsellers that you discuss like you’re middle-aged wine moms at a book club, getting too into it. Also, once you two get wrapped up in conversation, it’s almost impossible to just drop it there. You and Miyeon start talking and you never really stop.

It’s like you blink and suddenly you’re two months in - and it’s not like you’re in a relationship, but it’s pretty clear that you’re exclusively fooling around, and you also spend so much of your time together that you know what’d it look like to an outsider. You talk to Miyeon about pretty much everything, but you avoid any mention of making it official. You’re two months in, and she finally invites you over to her apartment.

“I know,” she says, the first time you come over. “It’s egregious. I get it.”

You haven’t even said anything, but she’s not wrong. Her apartment’s gorgeous once you see it on the inside, and way bigger than you thought it was - ridiculous, considering it’s just her and her roommate. Nothing like what you’d expect the average college student to be able to afford, but-

“My family,” Miyeon offers, by way of explanation. “They like to spoil me.” You’d kind of already known that, though. The high school you teach at is this swanky private one, and it wasn’t unusual to have the children of business tycoons, lawyers, doctors, the like - and she’d graduated from there, so it’s not quite out of left field. “And my roommate’s descended from Thai royalty, or something. She’s not exactly hurting for money, either.”

“Naturally,” you say.

So her apartment becomes fair game, too. She gives you her spare key like it’s nothing - easy access, she tells you, covers up the intimacy with innuendo. She forbids you from coming around when her roommate is home, but that ends up being a lost cause. You’re bound to have run-ins with her friends, you realize that - Miyeon’s always been exceedingly well-liked, notoriously popular - but it doesn’t fully hit you how seriously close you’ve gotten until it actually happens.

You’ve somehow managed to fuck her almost everywhere in her apartment without running into her roommate until it’s a Sunday, almost three months from that first day - and everything about you and Miyeon together is sacrilege, you know that; maybe it’s a sign - and you’re coming to take her out to this sale at your favorite bookstore, and probably fuck her in the bathroom of the coffee shop next door. It’s a toss-up, it’s all going according to plan-

That is, until you step into the kitchen, and there’s a girl standing at the counter who is decidedly not Miyeon.

“Uh,” you say. “Hello?”

The girl glances up at her phone, immediately gets this curl to her red-lipped mouth, and - oh.

This is the roommate. It’s clear, in an instant: you’ve heard how Miyeon talks about her roommate, you’ve heard her voice on the phone - you’re not a fan of using any derogatory language towards women you don’t know, so you’ll put it like this: she’s got a reputation already. She smiles at you coyly, puts her phone face-down on the counter; she’s living up to it.

“Hi,” she says, voice smooth, velvety. She’s got these unreasonably gorgeous eyes, accented with thick eyeliner, mascara: they’re a striking, arresting pale green, at odds with the fairness of her skin, the jet-black of her hair. “You’re Miyeon’s boyfriend, right?”

“Um,” you say, intelligently; so, that’s a label you two still haven’t discussed. You should get on that, maybe.

The girl’s smile widens, like she’s taking your hesitation as a go-ahead, a green light. Oh, this one’s trouble. You know it without even knowing her.

“Well,” she says, propping her elbows up on the kitchen counter. She’s wearing a tight, low-cut shirt - it’s insanely flattering, and, hey, you’re only human. You notice but you’ll pretend that you don’t. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Minnie.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, a little amused by the performance of it all.

Minnie tilts her head, looking you up and down. Her eyes fall half-lidded, in this sleepy, sexy way that seems unintentional, but you’re already getting the sense that nothing Minnie does is unintentional.

“Hey,” she purrs, and it already sounds like a proposition. “You’re kind of hot, you know.”

“Oh, am I?” you ask, humoring her. She’s just so obvious. It’s sort of fascinating.

“I’d say so.” Minnie rounds the counter, and she’s wearing this short skirt, legs bare and slender, all toned. Her hair brushes just past the high line of her collarbone. There's something about her that oozes sex appeal - it’s impossible to ignore.

“Just a heads-up,” she says, “if you ever get bored of Miyeon and her whole princess thing, my room’s right down the hall from hers.” Minnie smiles, devilish. There’s an irony about it that makes you wonder if it’s a genuine offer or some sort of private joke she’s making, something you’re not cool enough to be in on. “So - you know where I am.”

It’s more than slightly hilarious that you met thirty seconds ago, and she’s already offering up sex like it’s nothing - if she were less gorgeous, you’d laugh out loud, but Minnie wears her allure like jewelry, something to show off and brag about. This is definitely a girl who’s used to getting what she wants.

It doesn’t escape you that Minnie’s the polar opposite of Miyeon, who wields her beauty with all this innocence, all the false wide-eyed naïvete in the word - she’s a good girl, that’s her starring role. This girl - Minnie - nothing about her’s innocent, not in the least. Her tongue darts across her bottom lip; she looks like she’d eat you alive, if given the chance. She’s hot. She’s also not even remotely your type, because that’s obviously-

“Oh my god,” says Miyeon, rushing down the stairs, feet hitting the hardwood as she practically jumps off the last step. “Oh my god. Nicha, I swear to god, if you’re trying to fuck him right now-”

Minnie actually looks mildly pained. “Please chill with the government name.”

“You’re such a whore,” grumbles Miyeon, bounding towards you to clutch at your hand. It’s a side you’ve never seen of her: jealousy. It’s adorable, but everything she does is adorable. Miyeon glares pointedly at Minnie, tells you, “The eyes are fake. Don’t fall for it.”

“What?” you ask. Minnie blinks at you, grins.

“They’re colored contacts,” says Miyeon, scowling. “Fake. So fake. She’s not even that hot without them.”

“I’m very hot without them,” argues Minnie, but she leans back, brushing her hair over her shoulders - it’s a clear surrender, a white flag waving. She’s backing off.

“Sorry,” she says, and barely sounds like she means it, but her smile’s charming enough for her to pull it off. “Didn’t mean to be a homewrecker or whatever.”

You’re not really sure what it is, but it takes a second, and it’s like you’re looking at someone totally different. Minnie’s whole sensual persona slips away, vanishes entirely - now she’s just got her head tipped like a puppy, watching the two of you with curious eyes. Even her voice rises in pitch - so there’s the behind-the-scenes, the performance dropped. She’d probably make a killing as an actress. It’s actually almost impressive, how she can turn the seduction off and on like a switch.

“Liar,” says Miyeon, detaching herself from you, but the venom’s drained out of her voice. She goes to Minnie, winds her arms around her waist, kisses Minnie’s cheek affectionately. “She’s a natural slut,” she says to you, but now she’s smiling too. “She can’t help it.”

“It’s in my genes,” agrees Minnie, pressing her lips to the top of Miyeon’s head.

“Right,” you say. You’re getting the feeling the bickering is just a facet of Miyeon and Minnie’s friendship, because they very clearly adore each other. Oh, well. It’s cute. You won’t question it.

“And she likes to take things that belong to me,” adds Miyeon, a certain wickedness to it, a threat.

You raise your eyebrows at her; possessiveness looks great on her, but then again, so does everything. Minnie shrugs, doesn’t even bother to deny it. Clearly, it’s an old fight, a score they’ve far past settled.

“Good to know,” you say, and hardly lift a hand in Miyeon’s direction - she comes to you as easy as if you’d given her a verbal command. It’s not exactly subtle, how she slips under your arm like it’s an order she’s following.

“Oh,” says Minnie, and it sounds like oh, I get it - it’s like that. Like she’s got you two pegged instantly. Maybe she does. “You guys are dating.”

“We’re not,” says Miyeon, boredly. The disinterest’s entirely an act, but an excellent one.

“Baby, it wasn’t a question,” says Minnie, wry like she can read Miyeon’s mind. There’s something so intense about her eyes, no matter how false they might be - the way they flick from you to Miyeon, drawing lines, dynamics. You don’t know how much Miyeon has told her, but she observes the two of you like she knows everything and then some. She purses her lips, then packs it up. You’re not sure what she’s seeing when she looks at you and Miyeon but you think you’ve got an idea.

“Have a good night,” Minnie tells you, and the smile that follows is secretive, enigmatic. “And it was so great to finally meet you.”

“She seems nice,” you say.

“She’s a whore,” says Miyeon, rapid-fire, and then laughs a sudden, musical laugh. “She’s also, like, my favorite person in the world. I didn’t think you’d meet her like that - I swear I thought she wasn’t home.”

“So crazy that she thought we were dating,” you say, dryly.

“Yeah,” Miyeon replies, in your car, pretty in a pink dress as you’re taking her out. The sarcasm’s too thick to call out. You both know what game you’re playing, by now. “Who could’ve ever come to a stupid conclusion like that?”

You two are able to talk about anything, you settle on a handful of books to buy, you don’t even have to go next door because you get Miyeon’s panties off in the dark alleyway, sink to your knees and eat her out. She squeals and mewls and sucks at keeping quiet. Her pussy’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, but you’ve learned by now that Miyeon’s the kind of girl who’s impossible to compete with.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you,” she tells you, shamelessly, as you wipe her cum off of your chin.

“Right back at you,” you say, and kiss her until she’s gasping for air. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be but with her, and you don’t have to ask - she kneels to return the favor, and you know she feels the same.

Minnie actually ends up having a running commentary on your relationship - you’ve realized by now that she’s Miyeon’s best friend, which means she doesn’t believe in boundaries, or mincing words. Case in point - well, there’s several, but you’ll settle for this one:

“Jesus fucking Christ,” says Minnie, one evening, when she catches you and Miyeon on the couch in their apartment. “You two are disgusting.”

It’s a big reaction, considering you and Miyeon aren’t anywhere near having sex - you’re hotly debating the quality of an Netflix miniseries you just finished binge-watching together, discussing themes and plot points and character arcs. Miyeon’s defending it to the death, calling it camp, pulling up comparisons to cinematic masterpieces on her phone. You hate it; you’re arguing that it’s trite garbage, clinical and passionless and dumb.

“What?” says Miyeon, confused. “We’re just talking.”

“Yeah,” you say. “We’re fully clothed and everything.”

“It’s disgusting that Miyeon somehow found someone just as pretentious as she is to argue about her dumbass TV shows with,” clarifies Minnie, her arms crossed. “It’s gross. You two are gross. Like - we get it, you’re made for each other because you both take media analysis way too seriously.”

Miyeon stares at her, mouth agape. Minnie turns on her heel and walks right out, apparently too nauseated by you both to tolerate your presence any longer.

“Um,” you say, a little lost for words.

Miyeon’s discarded her phone on her coffee table, and now she’s watching you, eyes suddenly soft. You raise your eyebrows at her, can’t fight the smile at how she scoots closer to you, tucks her thighs up to her knee. “Yes?” you ask, expectantly.

“Nothing,” Miyeon says, tapping her dainty fingers along your wrist, thumb skipping across your pulse point. “But you’ve thought about it before, haven’t you?”

You don’t pretend that you don’t know what she’s talking about - you respect her too much for that. You nod, watch her throat bobs when she swallows, looks up at you carefully, like she’s trying to memorize the look on your face.

“Alright,” says Miyeon, finally. “It’s just - we kind of work, in a weird way.”

It’s cute, her restraint. You slip a hand in her hair, bring her close so you can kiss her forehead. “We kind of do,” you tell her, and you have faith that you’ll get there. It’s only a matter of time.

You’re still not really dating, but - so, it’s complicated.

It’s a Tuesday when you’re both out getting coffee together, and it’s under the pretense of sex, because it always is. Miyeon likes getting fucked where she knows she can get caught, and it’s her thing, it’s a pattern: public bathrooms, parks, alleyways, dressing rooms. There’s something so filthy about it, the juxtaposition - your perfect, pristine girl, begging for your cock in the nastiest places, biting down on your fingers to keep from screaming, walking out with cum dripping from her cunt like it’s nothing. It’s worse because nothing about her’s inconspicuous, after this - she walks out of every round looking exactly like she just had the best sex of her life, and nothing less. Everyone who sees you two together knows what you’re up to. It’s just that much hotter.

So - that’s the thing. It’s easy for you guys to spend all your free time together - between the college classes she’s taking, between the high school ones you’re teaching. You call her on lunch breaks, after you’re done for the day, say all sorts of suggestive things; she responds in kind, all dirty texts and pictures. Her pussy takes up half your photo gallery. See, it’s not romantic, at its core; it can’t be. It’s too dirty. There’s nothing sweet about it.

Except-

You’re supposed to be having a hook-up, right now. You’re supposed to be fucking her in the bathroom of this coffee shop. That was the proposition when she texted you i need your dick now with absolutely zero shame, along with pictures of her outfit, her tiny white top pulled down to expose her creamy tits, her hard nipples. That was the entire idea.

“I love that book,” Miyeon’s telling you now, splitting a slice of coffee cake with you across the table. Best laid plans, or whatever. Somehow you two always get distracted by conversation first. “Well, that’s the thing about you and me. Nobody my own age appreciates classic literature.”

“That’s such a lie,” you say, endeared. “You’re flattering me.”

“None of my friends know them front to back like you do,” she points out, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her stunning eyes are bright, her words fast and passionate - she always gets like this when she’s excited, animated, dialed up to eleven. You shouldn’t find it as adorable as you do. “Because you’ve taught them. You’ve studied them - you get all the nuance. Also, you’re old.”

She’s making fun of you. “Cool it.”

“But it’s true,” Miyeon laments, pushing buttons on purpose. “Of course you know the classics - you’re, like, ancient enough to remember when they all first came out.”

“I’m seven years older than you.” It’s been established, by now. Miyeon still gets off on the gap between you two, even though it’s nowhere near as wide as she likes to pretend it is. “Calm down.”

You’re smiling, though. Miyeon grins, takes a bite of her cake. “You get me, is my point,” she says, dropping the dramatics. “That’s all I’m saying.”

You’re supposed to be fucking her half to death in a public bathroom by now, and you probably will, after all of this. It’s just - you’re blurring lines. You’re not dating, not really. It’s just that you can talk to her for hours on end without getting bored, and sometimes all you have to do is look at her to know exactly what she’s thinking, exactly what dumb joke she’s about to make, exactly what face she’ll pull at something you say. It’s just supposed to be sex, but she’s all you ever think about. It’s nothing serious, but you get the sense she feels the same way.

“I do,” you say, softer than intended.

There’s this way Miyeon smiles at you, sometimes. It’s the same look she gets on her face when you’re watching one of her favorite movies together, something woefully pretentious and deeply romantic, something that’s bound to get her teary-eyed and laughing at the same time, curled up in your lap. Like she’s looking at something she’d never want to look away from.

“Well,” she says decisively, and under the table, her hand finds your thigh. You’ll put a pin in all those feelings. They’ll come back around eventually. “I’m glad we agree. Wanna fuck me senseless in the bathroom now?”

Even now, you’ll never be able to refuse her, but you’ll play nonchalant. “Tempting.”

“I know,” Miyeon says, doe-eyed, and her mouth tips to a smirk. She’s so sentimental until she isn’t. “You can’t resist me.”

“Nope,” you comply, giving in like it’s nothing, and then you’re tugging her right out of her seat. Well, it’s par for the course. When it’s you and her together, neither of you can keep up an act for long.

You’re not dating, and it’s not sweet, it’s not romance. It actually gets kind of extreme, there in that one-person bathroom, where you’ve got her back against the counter and one of her thighs tucked to her chest, and you’re pounding her pussy so hard it’s bordering violent. She’s sniffling, tears dribbling down her cheeks, and that’s all her signs at once: she’s only this much of a mess when she’s loving it.

“Look at you, princess,” you murmur, and she gasps into the fingers you’ve got stuffed in her mouth, drooling all over you. “You’re just addicted to this cock in that tiny little pussy, aren’t you? You’d let me keep you like this for fucking days, just being my pretty fucking cockwarmer. You’d die for it.”

Miyeon grips your wrist, spits your fingers out from between her lips. Her eyes are mesmerizing, glassy and lined with newly mussed makeup from how she’s crying - she’s become such a disaster, so fast. This is always the best part: how you wreck her, how she lets you.

“Yes,” she pants. “It’s yours, it’s all yours - feels so good, sir, my pussy belongs to you-”

“I know, baby.” You grip your hand in her silky blonde hair, and the whimper she lets out is from the pain, from the pleasure - for her, it’s the thinnest line, it’s already overlapping. “Let me keep you on my cock for a weekend, cumming in all your holes…” You lean in close, nip at her ear, yank her head back. “Imagine it,” you hum. “Imagine just being my cumdump for days, just taking load after load in that little cunt. Keeping you on my lap, all that cum inside you, plugged up by my dick…”

Miyeon knows it’s coming. You can tell how her eyes fall shut, how her tiny body trembles, how she clenches around your cock - she’s trying so hard to keep quiet and only half-succeeding. Well, you’ll push her over the edge.

“How long do you think it’d take to get you knocked up?”

“Stop,” she whimpers, but she darts a glance up at you in the mirror, eyes glimmering. You’ve got your boundaries, your safewords - you know it’s not an actual rejection.

“Stop?” you ask, and there’s danger in the way you laugh, a warning. Miyeon catches it, whines and writhes and only gets wetter. “Please. Don’t act like you don’t love the idea of me breeding that slutty fucking pussy. Cumming all the way inside your womb, filling you up with my load - you’re young, Miyeon, you know what you are.” It’s two hits in one, and she bites so hard into her bottom lip you’re shocked she’s not drawing blood. “A tight little body like this is fucking made to be bred. You’d be so fucking lucky if I got you pregnant, wouldn’t you? If I used you as a fuckhole to breed and nothing else - if I fucking owned you, made you belong to me, used you like my fucking property-”

Miyeon’s breathing stutters so badly you think she might be on the verge of hyperventilating - but you’ve also never seen her so ruined, so consumed by your cock in her, by the fantasy you’re painting. “Oh my fucking god,” she chokes out, and she keeps it as quiet as she can - you’re still in public, and the pressure’s only getting to her more, getting her hot and riled and helpless - but she’s too far gone for composure. “Oh my god. Oh, fuck-”

“Say it,” you snarl, right at her ear. “Say it, princess. I know you want to. Tell me what you want me to fucking do to you.”

There’s no stopping, no stalling - you’ve pushed her right to the edge, and she’s past pretending like she doesn’t want exactly what you’re giving her.

“I want you to breed me.” Miyeon’s sobbing, lost in the euphoria, in the very thought of it - the way she lets you break her so completely, in public where anyone would catch her: it’s criminal, it’s tugging an angel out of the sky just to fuck her down to hell. “I - just need you to fuck me, breed me, use me - do whatever you want to me, I just need you, sir, I need it - you’re right, I’m just a fuckhole, you own me, I belong to you-”

“That’s my girl.” Your hand drops to her clit just as her elbows hit the hard surface of the counter.

When she cums, now you know she draws blood - she’s got her knuckles at all her pretty white teeth, and the way her body contorts as her orgasm overwhelms her is something animalistic, feral. You’re cumming with her, but you can’t take your eyes off of Miyeon’s reflection in the mirror, off of the straps of her top hanging off her slender shoulders, the mess you’ve made of her hair, the destroyed makeup dripping from her eyes - there’s something so aesthetically flawless about the crease between her eyebrows, the heavy rise and fall of her chest, the way she spits scarlet blood into the sink in one quick, debilitated move. It’s like she’s a masterpiece, fucked out, fucked up. She's a portrait made to be ogled, observed and fawned over. Every detail’s goddamn perfect.

You catch her around the waist, slide your cock out of her as she whimpers. Her pale knuckles are beading with blood, and she’s still got some between her teeth. Miyeon turns her head again, spits, but it comes out weaker, drool slipping from the corner of her mouth.

“Miyeon,” you mumble, and go for her purse on the counter instead of the paper towel dispenser - when you’ve got a girl who likes being fucked in public as much as Miyeon does, you’re a pro at damage control by now.

The sound Miyeon lets out isn’t even close to anything coherent, any full words or sentiments. You take the package of makeup wipes, pat Miyeon’s hip, turn her around. “You’re okay,” you tell her, gently getting to work at the eyeliner, the bloody spit at her lips. “Oh, sweetheart. It’s okay. I got you.”

Miyeon still can’t speak, but she leans her lithe body into you, lets you take her jaw in your hand. There’s something so careful about the way you clean her up, take care of her after - that’s the thing about fucking a masterpiece; there’s an upkeep to it, a science in the art.

You toss the used makeup wipes in the trash when you’re done, then spin her around, smooth your hands through her hair. “Alright,” you say, and you go for her panties, tugging them back up around her hips. Your cum will be leaking out of her the whole way home, but it’s par for the course. “How are we holding up?”

There’s always this disparity between the two of you - she can barely walk after cumming, you’re mostly functional. It’s how you work, you think. She’s your girl, your baby; it’s the point. She knows you’ve got her, no matter what you do to her.

Miyeon meets your eyes in the mirror, breathing evening out, completely spent. She curves into you, into your hand on her tiny waist, and presses her lips to your cheek.

“You already know this,” she says, voice hoarse. You flip the tap on to wash her blood out of the sink, go for a tissue in her purse. “But no one compares to you, ever.”

It shouldn’t get to you like it does, but it does.

You press the tissue to Miyeon’s bloody knuckles, kiss the high point of her wrist. “Well,” you tell her, unable to drag your gaze away from those gorgeous eyes, looking at you with all the open devotion in the world. “It’s a good thing the feeling’s mutual.”

You run into one of the employees outside the bathroom, but there’s not a line, thank god. Well, it could be worse.

The employee’s staring at the two of you like she’s suspicious but too grossly underpaid to call you on anything. “Um,” she says.

“Sorry,” you say, and pull Miyeon tight to your side, slipping the palm of your hand over her stomach. “My wife - she’s pregnant with her first. Morning sickness.” You kiss the top of Miyeon’s hair. “Takes a lot out of her.”

Miyeon’s gawking at you with wide, shocked eyes. You ignore it, smile beatifically.

It’s not a bad act, on your part. The employee says, “Oh, yeah, okay. You were just in there a while, so I was - well, congrats, on the baby.”

“Thanks,” you say politely, and slip past the employee, Miyeon tucked under your arm. “That’s kind of you, really.”

The performance comes unraveled the moment you leave the coffee shop, and Miyeon’s half-irate, slapping at your chest, wavering on unsteady legs as you step out on the sidewalk together. You grin down at her, play dumb. “What’s wrong?”

“You are so fucked in the head,” accuses Miyeon, but then she’s laughing so raucously that she almost tumbles to the concrete in her platform sandals. You steady her waist, rein her back in. “You’re so - your wife? Pregnant? You’re such a - I hate you, I seriously-”

“You seemed to like the idea when I was fucking you.”

Miyeon’s been railed a little stupid, still, so she’s sort of slow on the uptake, can’t find a good comeback. She flounders, then says, “Um, no,” and it’s the weakest lie you’ve ever heard.

“No?” You crack up, lead her towards your car. “Need me to refresh your memory?”

“Maybe,” says Miyeon slyly, not even hesitating, and you roll your eyes and open the car door for her. You’ll circle back to that plan another day.

“So,” says Miyeon, later, in the passenger seat of your car. The window’s rolled down and the wind is throwing her blonde hair into disarray, sending her cheeks pink and lips bitten from the cold. She’s a vision, but she always is. “Cockwarming weekend? Or are you just all talk?”

You risk a glance over at her, pretend like you wouldn’t stop traffic just to stare. “Don’t be a brat.”

“You love it when I’m a brat,” says Miyeon, correctly, shuffling in her seat. There are bruises on her thigh from how hard you gripped her when you fucked her, hickeys decorating the delicate rise of her collarbone. She’s filled with your cum, but that’s nothing new. “So? What do you think about next week?”

“Miyeon,” you say, unable to tell if she’s actually serious.

“I trust you’ll handle the logistics,” she says, her voice lilting, melodic, and her hand grazes your cheek, tangles into your hair. She says it like I trust you, like do whatever you want to me - I’ll let you.

It’s a dirty proposal, but she manages to sneak sweetness in there anyway. There’s sincerity, between the lines of all the filth. It’s a running theme.

“I’ll ruin you,” you warn, and it should send alarms blaring.

Miyeon smiles like they’re the best sound she’s ever heard. “Oh, no,” she says, thumbing the side of your mouth, and she’s laughing. “I think that ship has already sailed.”

You make a lot of progress, on that story of yours. There’s no real reason: it’s just that you’ve found a muse who’s always content to be right by your side, clothed or unclothed, cumming or laughing or talking, wrapped up in your sheets past all the orgasms and far into the night.

(Miyeon stays, against all odds, even when you both know she doesn’t have to. Maybe, for you, there’s just a lot of inspiration to be found in that.)

planning for a part 2... eventually... but we'll see lmao

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #idol x male reader #gidle smut #male reader #reader insert #miyeon smut

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