#Miyeon x reader

[myuareustillsleeping]

DONT CALL ME - PROLOUGE

pairing - popular!cho miyeon x soccer!reader (fem)

synopsis - cho miyeon is the most popular girl in her school, she’s always been in the same group each year and they are unstoppable. (name) was a soccer player who has won many games before. she was quiet and shy. which makes her gain attention from people as they think it’s cute. cho miyeon decides to try and gain (name)’s attention but eventually wants it even more.

warning(s) - angst, swearing, fluff, cheating, toxic relationship

masterlist | next

[kole-cooler]

The Lake House

Part 1: All of Us Strangers

Sana x Miyeon x Male Reader

word count 22K

You pull up to the lake house in your beat-up SUV, tires crunching on the gravel driveway, and the second you step out, you’re hit with it—this place is way more stunning than the pics online. The air smells like pine and damp earth, and the lake stretches out in front of you, its surface flat and gray under a thick blanket of clouds. The house itself is this cozy, modern thing—wood and glass, with a big deck overlooking the lake. It’s got this vibe, like it’s begging you to chill out and forget the world for a while. You’re already thinking, Shit, if this week goes as good as it looks, maybe I’ll buy this place. Peace, quiet, and nature all around—perfect for your photography, which is the whole damn reason you’re here. And you’d bet your camera nobody’s around for miles—pure solitude, just how you like it—until you catch a faint wisp of smoke curling up from the chimney of that dark house across the lake, and now your solo trip’s got some unexpected company popping off.

You pop the trunk and grab your gear—camera bag slung over your shoulder, a duffel with clothes, and a cooler stuffed with groceries you snagged earlier. Your day job’s nothing special, just some remote gig doing data entry for a logistics company. It’s boring as hell—punching numbers into spreadsheets, tracking shipments, answering emails from people who can’t figure out their own schedules. Pays the bills, though, and it’s flexible enough to let you fuck off to places like this whenever you want. Photography’s where your heart’s at. You’ve been at it for years, lugging your Canon everywhere, chasing the perfect shot. Landscapes mostly—sunsets, forests, water, anything that moves you. You’re no pro, but you’re good, and you’ve got a decent following on Insta for it. This trip? It’s all about that—getting out, breathing, and nailing some killer shots.

The lake house sits on this little peninsula, surrounded by trees so thick you can barely see the dirt road you came in on. It’s isolated, yeah, but not too far out. There’s a small city—more like a big town, really—about twenty minutes back. You stopped there on the way in, hit up a grocery store for the basics: beer, burgers, some frozen pizzas, and a bag of apples ‘cause you’re trying to be healthy or whatever. They’ve got a coffee shop and a gas station too, so you’re not totally cut off. Still, out here, it’s just you, the water, and the woods. No traffic, no neighbors blasting music—pure silence, except for the occasional bird or ripple on the lake.

You haul your stuff inside, drop it on the hardwood floor, and take a sec to check the place out. Big windows everywhere, letting in that soft, cloudy light. The living room’s got a plush couch and a stone fireplace you’re already itching to use. Kitchen’s sleek, all stainless steel and granite, and the bedroom upstairs has a view that makes you wanna cry—straight across the lake. Speaking of which, you step out onto the deck, hands in your pockets, and squint through the gloom. On the far shore, maybe half a mile away, there's that other house. Two stories, painted some dark color—navy or black, hard to tell with the weather. It’s got these big windows too, glowing faintly, and there’s a car parked out front. A white sedan, nothing fancy. There's definitely someone there, you think, and it weirds you out a little. You weren’t expecting company out here, not this close. The mystery of it nags at you—who the hell are they? Vacationers? Locals? You shake it off for now, but your eyes keep drifting back to that house as you unpack.

The clouds hang low, heavy with the promise of rain, and the air’s got that cool, damp bite to it. You grab your camera—couldn’t resist—and step back outside, adjusting the lens. The lake’s like a mirror, reflecting the sky, and the trees are all moody greens and browns. You snap a few shots, playing with the exposure, already imagining how they’ll look edited. This spot’s a goldmine; you can feel it. But that house across the water—it’s still there in the corner of your frame, pulling your focus. You zoom in, just curious, but it’s too far to make out much. Still, you’ve got this itch now, this tiny spark of intrigue. Whoever’s over there, they’ve got no idea you’re watching.

You’re fiddling with your camera, trying to frame up a shot of some birds skimming the lake, when movement catches your eye. Two figures step out of that dark house across the water. Girls, both of them, and even from this distance, they stand out. One’s got silky brown hair that catches the dull light, flowing down her back like she just stepped out of a shampoo ad. The other’s got jet-black hair, shorter, framing her face. They’re dressed casual—leggings and hoodies, nothing fancy, just comfy vibes. The black-haired one’s got a phone pressed to her ear, pacing a little, while the brown-haired one hovers close, hands in her pockets. You freeze for a sec, then casually swing your camera away, pretending to focus on the lake, the trees, anything but them. Don’t be that guy, you tell yourself, heart picking up a bit. Last thing you need is them thinking some random dude’s creeping on them with a lens.

But your curiosity’s a bitch. After a minute, you sneak the camera back their way, zooming in just enough to see them better. And then—shit—they’re looking right at you. Like, right at you. Your stomach drops, and you yank the camera down, turning your head so fast you almost tweak your neck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You can already hear the headlines: “Outsider Caught Stalking Innocent Girls With Telephoto Lens.” You’re not that guy, but try explaining that across a lake. Hoping they didn’t get a good look, you ditch the deck and hustle to your car, popping the trunk like you’ve got urgent business. You grab the cooler and a bag of groceries, hauling them inside, your pulse still thudding in your ears.

You’re not out there five minutes before you’ve gotta go back for the rest. Stepping onto the deck again, you freeze—they’re coming your way. Like, actually walking around the lake toward your side. Your brain scrambles. Bolting inside might look shady as hell, but standing here like a deer in headlights? Not much better. You opt to stay, fiddling with something in the trunk—your spare tire, maybe?—pretending you’re too busy to notice them closing in. Your palms are sweaty, and you’re half-braced for them to start yelling or waving a phone with 911 already dialed.

“Hey!” a voice calls out, bright and chill, not pissed. You glance up, and the black-haired girl’s waving at you, a little grin on her face. You wave back, tentative, still expecting the vibe to shift. “Didn’t know anyone was over here,” she says as they get closer, her tone all friendly-like. “This place was a total dump last year—falling apart, windows smashed, the works. Looks dope now, though. They fix it up?”

You nod, relaxing a bit. “Yeah, rented it for the week. Guess it got a glow-up since then.” Up close, she’s got this energy—outgoing, loud in a good way. She sticks out her hand. “I’m Miyeon. This is Sana.” She jerks her thumb at the brown-haired girl, who gives you a small smile and a nod, quieter, maybe shyer.

“Sana, hey,” you say your name as you shake Miyeon's hand, then glancing at Sana. “Yeah, I’m just crashing here for a bit. You guys local?”

“Nah,” Miyeon says, leaning against your car like she owns it. “This house over there? My parents’. Been coming here forever, usually with a crew of friends. It’s our spot.” She gestures across the lake, where that dark two-story looms.

“Friends?” you ask, glancing between them. “Where’s the rest of the squad?”

Miyeon’s face falls a little, and Sana looks down at her shoes. “Yeah, that’s the shitty part,” Miyeon says, voice dipping. “They just called me—like, right before we came over. There’s a fuckin’ landslide or something on the main road in. Rain’s been nuts, and it’s blocked off. They were driving up from a couple hours away, so they just turned back. Not worth the hassle.”

“Damn,” you say, genuinely feeling for them. “That sucks. So what’s the plan now?”

Miyeon shrugs, kicking a pebble. “Hang out, I guess. Wait for the road to clear, then head home. Not much else to do.”

Sana pipes up then, her voice softer but curious. “That camera,” she says, nodding at it slung over your shoulder. “You a photographer or something?”

“Nah, just a hobby,” you say, brushing it off. “I work some boring-ass data job—spreadsheets and shit. This is what keeps me sane. Love shooting nature, landscapes, whatever catches my eye.”

Miyeon perks up. “You got an Insta for it? Let’s see.” You hesitate, then rattle off your handle. She pulls out her phone, taps away, and Sana leans over her shoulder as they scroll. “Yo, these are good,” Miyeon says, legit impressed. “Like, really good. You’re underselling yourself, dude.”

“Yeah,” Sana adds, her shy edge melting a bit. “The lighting in this one? Wow.” She points at her screen, and you feel a dumb little rush of pride.

“Thanks,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “I’m here to chill and snap some shots of the lake, the woods, you know. Recharge.”

“Smart move,” Miyeon says. “We were gonna swim out there—” she nods at the pier stretching into the lake—“but it’s freezing. Usually it’s warm enough this time of year, but not today.”

“Global warming’s fucking with everything,” you toss out, and they both nod like, yep, that tracks.

Then Miyeon tilts her head, grinning. “Hey, since you’re Mr. Camera Guy, how about you take a pic of us out on the pier? Something to remember this weird-ass trip by?”

You blink, caught off guard, but they’re both looking at you expectantly. “Uh, yeah, sure,” you say, slinging the camera off your shoulder. “Let’s do it.”

They lead the way to the pier, Miyeon strutting ahead like she’s on a mission, Sana trailing a step behind, sneaking little glances at you. You’re still buzzing from the fact they’re cool with you—more than cool, actually friendly. You follow the girls down to the pier, boots thudding against the weathered wooden planks. The lake stretches out around you, still as glass under the heavy, gray sky, and the air’s got that sharp, pre-rain chill. Miyeon’s practically bouncing as she strides to the end, her black hair swinging, while Sana trails a little slower, her silky brown locks catching the faint breeze. They stop at the edge, the water lapping gently below, and turn to face you. “Alright, camera guy,” Miyeon says with a grin, planting her hands on her hips. “Work your magic.”

You lift the Canon, squinting through the viewfinder, and—damn—they’re gorgeous. Like, unfairly photogenic. Miyeon’s all confidence, popping a playful pose, one leg bent, head tilted, flashing a smirk that’s equal parts goofy and charming. Sana’s quieter about it, crossing her arms and giving a shy smile, but there’s something striking in the way she stands, the way her hair frames her face. You snap a few shots—wide angles with the lake behind them, then some tighter ones, playing with the depth of field so the cloudy horizon blurs out. Miyeon keeps it lively, throwing out dumb poses—peace signs, a fake pout—while Sana giggles and follows her lead, loosening up bit by bit.

“Yo, let’s see!” Miyeon calls after a dozen clicks, jogging over with Sana in tow. You flip the camera around, scrolling through the shots on the screen, and their faces light up. “Holy shit, these are fire,” Miyeon says, leaning in so close her shoulder brushes yours. “You sure you’re not a pro?”

“They’re so good,” Sana adds, her voice softer but just as impressed. “Like, we actually look cool.” The pics are sharp, the girls popping against the moody backdrop, their colors—black hoodie, brown hair—standing out in the gloom. You nailed the focus, the composition, everything.

“Yeah, well, you guys make it easy,” you say, shrugging, though you’re secretly stoked they like them. “Wish the weather wasn’t so shitty, though. This light’s all flat and gray—makes it look like you’re in some creepy thriller flick or something.”

Miyeon’s grin falters for a sec, and she nudges you with her elbow. “Dude, don’t even joke about that. We’re already kinda freaked out being alone over there.”

You laugh, raising an eyebrow. “What, you think some axe murderer’s hiding in the woods? Any crimes around here I should know about?”

She shakes her head, smirking but with a little edge. “Not that I’ve heard of, thank God. Just… it’s quiet, you know? Too quiet sometimes.”

“Fair,” you say, glancing out at the lake, the stillness of it almost eerie now that she’s put the thought in your head. “Well, if you guys need anything—someone to fend off the boogeyman or whatever—just hit me up. I’m right across the water.”

Miyeon’s eyes spark up, and she pulls out her phone. “Bet. What’s your Insta again? I’ll follow you, and you can DM me those pics.” You give her the handle, and she taps it in, tossing you hers in return—@miyeonnotmignon, which makes you snort ‘cause it’s so her. “Send ‘em whenever,” she says. “I need these for the grid.”

Sana glances at the sky, tugging her hoodie tighter. “We should head back. Looks like rain’s coming soon.”

“Yeah, true,” Miyeon agrees, squinting up at the clouds, which are starting to clump thicker, darker. “Don’t wanna get stuck out here when it dumps.” She turns to you, flashing that big, easy grin. “Enjoy the place, dude. Don’t let the thriller vibes get to you.”

You smirk. “I’ll try. You guys stay safe over there. Don’t go summoning ghosts or anything.”

Sana giggles at that, and Miyeon just rolls her eyes, waving as they start back down the pier. “See ya, camera guy!” she calls over her shoulder. You wave back, watching them go—Miyeon’s loud laugh echoing faintly, Sana’s quieter figure beside her—until they hit the shore and start the trek around the lake. You linger a minute, camera still in hand, the pier creaking under your weight. The air’s heavier now, the first hint of rain prickling your skin. You glance at their house across the water, its dark shape fuzzing out in the haze, and that little spark of mystery flares up again. They’re cool, way cooler than you expected. And something about them—maybe Miyeon’s loud charm, maybe Sana’s shy warmth—sticks with you as you head back to your own place, the promise of rain rumbling in the distance.

—

It’s been a few hours since you got back from the pier, and the world outside’s turned into a damn monsoon. Rain’s hammering the windows like it’s pissed off, streaking down the glass in relentless sheets, and the wind’s howling through the trees, making the whole lake house groan. Inside, though, it’s cozy—borderline toasty, thanks to the heater humming away in the corner and the fireplace lit downstairs. You’re sprawled on the bed upstairs, legs kicked out, a half-empty beer sweating on the nightstand from dinner—frozen pizza and some chips, nothing fancy. The generator’s chugging along out back, but you’re keeping an eye on the lights, half-worried it’s gonna crap out from all the juice the heater’s pulling. Last thing you need is to freeze your ass off out here.

You’ve got your laptop propped on your thighs, scrolling through the shots you took earlier—the pier pics of Miyeon and Sana, plus some moody lake stuff before the sky opened up. The girls’ photos are gold, even with the flat light. Miyeon’s got this wild, carefree energy in every frame, while Sana’s softer, her shy smile sneaking through. You tweak a couple in Lightroom, bumping the contrast, and damn, they’re Instagram-worthy for sure.

Eventually, you shut the laptop and roll off the bed, stretching. You can’t help it—your eyes drift to the window. It’s pitch-black out there, the rain turning everything into a blurry void. You press your forehead to the cold glass, squinting across the lake. Their house is just a smudge in the dark, but the lights are on—warm little squares glowing through the storm. You wonder what they’re up to. Probably curled up on a couch, watching some cheesy rom-com or maybe a horror flick, given Miyeon’s half-joking about being spooked. Popcorn, blankets, the whole vibe. You picture it for a sec—Miyeon yapping over the movie, Sana giggling at her—and it’s kinda cute.

Then—blink—the lights across the lake go out. All of them, at once. You blink too, like maybe your eyes are screwing with you, but nope, it’s dark over there now. Weird as hell. Your first thought is they hit the sack, but it’s too sudden, too synchronized. No way they flipped every switch at the exact same second. A power outage? Maybe the storm fried something. You stare into the blackness, chewing your lip. Okay, maybe you’re overthinking it. You’ve been out here alone too long, and those two are the only blips of life in this wilderness. It’s not like you’re obsessed or anything—they’re just… there. Still, it bugs you. You shake it off, muttering “whatever” to yourself, and decide to crash. Bed’s calling, and the rain’s drumming hard enough to knock you out.

You’re halfway to brushing your teeth when—thump thump—a sound cuts through the storm. You freeze, toothbrush dangling, listening. Imagination, right? This place creaks all the time. But then it comes again, louder—THUMP THUMP THUMP—straight from the front door downstairs. Your heart kicks up, and you spit into the sink, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Could be a branch or some shit blowing around in the wind, but it sounded too deliberate. You grab your phone, thumb hovering over the flashlight app, and creep to the stairs, ears straining. The rain’s deafening, but there’s something else—a muffled voice maybe?

You pad down to the first floor, barefoot on the cold wood, nerves buzzing. The knocking’s real, no doubt now, and it’s insistent. “Who the fuck—” you mutter, snagging a jacket from the couch and shrugging it on. You’re half-expecting a drenched hiker or some rando stranded in the storm, but part of you—okay, a big part—wonders if it’s them. You flip on the porch light, yank the door open, and—bam—a flashlight beam hits you square in the face, blinding you for a sec.

“Shit, sorry!” a familiar voice says, and the light drops. It’s Miyeon, soaked to the bone, her black hair plastered to her face, hoodie clinging like a second skin. Sana’s right behind her, brown hair dripping, looking like a drowned kitten in her oversized sweater. They’re both shivering, rain streaming off them, pooling on your doorstep.

“Jesus, you guys okay?” you say, stepping back to let them in. “What the hell happened?”

Miyeon’s teeth are chattering, but she’s still got that spark. “Our generator fucking died, dude. No lights, no heat, nothing. We’ve got no clue what’s wrong, and it’s creepy as shit over there. Can you—please—come take a look?”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, already zipping up your jacket. You grab your boots from the mat, shoving them on while they hover by the door, dripping and miserable. “You sure you don’t wanna dry off first? You’re gonna catch pneumonia or something.”

Sana shakes her head, hugging herself. “We just wanna get it fixed. It’s freezing, and I swear I heard something moving in the dark.”

“Probably just the wind,” Miyeon says, but she doesn’t sound convinced. “Still, let’s go. I’m not sleeping in a blackout.”

You snag a flashlight from the kitchen drawer—bigger than theirs, one of those heavy-duty ones—and flick it on. “Alright, lead the way. Let’s see if we can save your night.”

They nod, grateful, and you step out into the storm with them. The rain hits like needles, cold and relentless, soaking through your jeans in seconds. Miyeon’s ahead, power-walking around the lake, while Sana sticks closer, her flashlight beam jittering across the muddy path. You’re all hunched against the wind, shouting over the roar of the downpour—Miyeon bitching about how her parents need to upgrade their shit, Sana muttering about hating storms. It’s a slog, wet and miserable, but you can’t help feeling a little badass, trekking out here to play hero. The house looms ahead, a dark silhouette against the storm, and the second you step inside, the vibe hits you—cold, damp, and way too quiet without the hum of electronics. Miyeon flicks her flashlight around, leading the way through the living room—furniture shadowy lumps in the gloom—down a narrow hall to a back door. “Generator’s out here,” she says, shoving it open. The wind blasts in, spraying rain across your face, and you grimace as you follow them into a little shed attached to the house.

The generator sits there like a grumpy old beast, silent and useless. Sana holds her flashlight steady, the beam jittering a little from her shaky hands, while Miyeon aims hers at the control panel. “It just… stopped,” she says, kicking the base lightly. “No warning, no nothing.” You crouch down, popping the side panel open with a grunt, and peer inside. The smell of wet metal and fuel hits you, and you sweep your flashlight over the guts—wires, gauges, a fuel tank that’s still half-full. You’re no expert, but you’ve fucked around with enough random shit to spot trouble. And there it is: a busted fuel line, cracked clean through, leaking diesel into the housing. Probably shook loose from the storm’s vibration or just shitty luck. Either way, it’s toast—no quick fix tonight, not without a replacement part and better light to work in.

“Bad news,” you say, straightening up and wiping your wet hands on your jeans. “Fuel line’s fucked. It’s leaking everywhere, and I can’t patch it with what’s here. You’re outta power ‘til we get a new one.”

Miyeon’s face drops, and she lets out a loud, “Are you kidding me?!” She paces a little, flashlight beam swinging wildly. “This is some horror movie bullshit. What the hell are we supposed to do now?”

Sana’s quieter, but you can tell she’s freaked too—her arms are wrapped tight around herself, and her voice comes out small. “It’s so cold already. And dark. I don’t like this. I swear I keep hearing noises.”

You glance around the shed, the rain drumming on the tin roof like it’s trying to break in. The house beyond it looks like a black hole, swallowing every bit of light. “Yeah, no kidding,” you say, scratching your jaw. “Look, I’m not gonna leave you guys stranded out here. My place has power, heat, and light. Unfortunately there is only one room with a mattress because, well, I wasn't expecting guests. But you can crash there tonight if you don't mind sharing a bed. No point in freezing your asses off in this.”

They both freeze, turning to look at each other. Sana’s the first to speak, hesitant. “Are you sure? We don’t wanna, like, invade your space or anything.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” you say, waving it off. “I’ve got a nice couch. Beats sitting here waiting for the boogeyman to show up, right?”

Miyeon snorts, but there’s relief in it. “Okay, yeah, that sounds way better than this shitshow. Give us a sec to grab some stuff.” They dart back inside, flashlights bobbing, and you wait by the door, leaning against the frame, listening to the storm rage. You hear them rummaging around—drawers slamming, muffled chatter—before they reappear, each with a small duffel bag slung over their shoulder. Miyeon’s got a hoodie pulled tight over her head, and Sana’s clutching a blanket like it’s a lifeline, her wet hair still dripping.

“Ready,” Miyeon says, zipping her bag. “Let’s get the fuck outta here before something else breaks.”

The trek back is brutal—rain in your face, wind shoving you sideways, the girls huddled close like you’re some kinda human shield. By the time you stumble through your front door, you’re all drenched again, leaving a trail of puddles across the hardwood. You kick off your boots, shaking water out of your hair, and point down the hall. “Bathroom’s that way. Go change or whatever—I’ll grab some towels.”

“Thanks, dude,” Miyeon says, already peeling off her soaked hoodie right there in the living room, revealing a damp tee underneath. Sana scurries off, blanket dragging, and you head to the linen closet, snagging a couple of big fluffy towels. When you come back, Miyeon’s in dry sweatpants and a loose tank top, toweling her hair, while Sana emerges in an oversized hoodie and leggings, looking less like a drowned rat now.

“God, you’re a lifesaver,” Miyeon says, flopping onto your couch like she owns it. Sana nods, settling next to her, tucking her legs under. “Seriously, thank you. I was about to lose it over there.”

“No worries,” you say, tossing them the towels. “You guys warm enough? I can put more wood in the fireplace if you want.”

“It’s good,” Sana says, pulling the blanket over her lap. “This is already a million times better.”

You nod, feeling weirdly proud of your little rescue mission, and head to the kitchen. “I’ll make some tea or something. You guys just chill.” The kettle’s already half-full from earlier, so you flick it on, rummaging for some random herbal shit you bought ages ago—chamomile, maybe? Close enough. While it heats, you lean against the counter, listening to them talk on the couch. Miyeon’s voice carries, loud and animated—“I swear, if my parents don’t fix that generator, I’m never coming back”—while Sana’s softer, giggling at her rant.

When the kettle whistles, you pour three mugs, balancing them as you shuffle back. “Here,” you say, handing them over. Miyeon takes hers with a grin, Sana with a quiet “thanks,” and you plop into the armchair across from them, cradling your own. The steam curls up, warm against your face, and for a minute, it’s just the sound of rain on the roof and the three of you sipping.

Miyeon stretches out, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. “So, what’s your deal, camera guy? Are you planning to buy this house or something?”

You laugh. “Nah, just a rental for the week. Needed a break from my boring-ass data job. From the city too. Figured I’d mess around with my camera, get some shots of the lake and stay close to nature.”

“Well, you’re stuck with us now,” she says, smirking. “Hope you don’t mind the company.”

Sana glances at you, a little smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, you’re kinda our hero tonight.”

You shrug, playing it off, but your chest puffs up a bit anyway. “Hey, beats being alone in this storm. You guys can crash as long as you need.” They nod, settling deeper into the couch, and the vibe shifts—warm, easy, like you’ve known them longer than a day. The rain keeps pounding, but in here, it’s just you, them, and the crackling of the fireplace making everything feel alright.

“So, what’s your story?” you ask, blowing on your tea to cool it. “You guys come up here a lot, huh?”

Miyeon smirks, setting her mug on the coffee table with a little clink. “Yeah, like I said, it’s my parents’ place. Been dragging people up here since I was a kid. Used to be all family trips, but now it’s more for me and my crew to fuck around—swim, drink, whatever. This time it was supposed to be a big thing, but, well, landslide screwed that.”

“That sucks,” you say, leaning back. “You two stuck it out, though. Pretty badass.”

Sana giggles, peeking over her mug. “Barely. We were freaking out before you showed up. I’m not good with storms—or, like, anything going wrong.”

“She’s a spoiled city girl,” Miyeon teases, nudging Sana with her foot. “Needs her Wi-Fi and hot showers or she starts crying.”

“Shut up,” Sana fires back, but she’s laughing, swatting Miyeon’s leg. “You’re the one who screamed when the power went out.”

Miyeon shrugs, unbothered. “Yeah, ‘cause it was creepy as fuck. Point is, we’re here now, thanks to Mr. Hero over there.” She jerks her chin at you, grinning.

You snort. “Just doing my part. So, what’s the deal with you two? You’ve known each other forever or what?” You figure they’re tight—besties or something, the way they bounce off each other.

They exchange a look, quick but loaded, and Miyeon’s grin turns a little sly. “Not forever,” she says, stretching her arms over her head, tank top riding up a bit. “We’ve been together, what, two years now?”

“Two and a half,” Sana corrects, softer, her eyes flicking to Miyeon like she’s double-checking.

“Together?” you echo, tilting your head. “Like… roommates?”

Miyeon laughs, loud and sharp, while Sana hides a smile behind her mug. “Nah, dude,” Miyeon says, sitting up a little. “Like, together together. Girlfriends. Dating. You know?”

“Oh,” you say, blinking, then catch yourself quick. “Oh, shit, that’s cool. I just assumed—uh, never mind. Awesome.”

Sana’s cheeks go pink, but she’s giggling at your stumble. “It’s fine. People assume we’re just friends all the time. We’re used to it.”

“Yeah, we don’t exactly scream ‘couple,’” Miyeon adds, smirking. “I’m too loud, she’s too sweet. Throws people off.”

You laugh, easing up. “Nah, I get it now. You balance each other out. That’s dope.” You mean it—they’ve got this vibe, like they click without even trying. Miyeon’s all fire and Sana’s the calm, but together it works.

“What about you?” Sana asks, shifting the spotlight. “You got anyone back home?”

“Me? Nah,” you say, shaking your head. “Solo mission right now. Work’s too boring to drag someone else into it, and I spend most of my free time with my camera anyway. Not exactly boyfriend material.”

“Bullshit,” Miyeon says, pointing at you with her mug. “You’re chill, you’ve got a cool hobby, and you’re not a total asshole. You’d do fine.”

“High praise,” you deadpan, grinning. “I’ll put that on my dating profile: ‘Not a total asshole, says random lake girl.’”

They both crack up, and the room feels lighter, like the storm’s just background noise now. You keep chatting—little stuff at first. You tell them about your data gig, how it’s mind-numbing but pays the bills, and how you’ve been shooting photos since you were a teenager, chasing sunsets and storms like this one. Miyeon spills about her graphic design side hustle, how she’s always doodling on her iPad, while Sana admits she’s a barista at some trendy coffee shop, secretly loving the chaos of the morning rush.

“Hold up,” you say, setting your empty mug down. “You’re telling me you’re out here pulling espresso shots all day, and you’re still this chill? Respect.”

Sana shrugs, blushing a little. “It’s not that hard. I just smile and people tip me.”

“She’s lying,” Miyeon cuts in. “She’s a pro. Makes latte art and everything. I can barely pour cereal without fucking it up.”

“Stop it,” Sana mumbles, shoving her playfully, and you can’t help but laugh at how easy they are together. It’s cute—real, not forced.

The convo drifts, and you’re all a little looser, the tea warming you up from the inside. Miyeon yawns, stretching so hard her tank top rides up again, showing a sliver of stomach. “Man, this storm’s not letting up. What’s the plan tomorrow if it’s still like this?”

You glance out the window—still a wall of rain and dark. “Dunno. If it clears, I was gonna hike around, take some shots. If not, I’ve got a deck of cards and some beer. We could kill time.”

“Beer?” Miyeon perks up, eyes glinting. “Why didn’t you say that earlier? Let’s do drinks tomorrow night, storm or not. We’ll make it a thing.”

“Deal,” you say, nodding. “I’ve got some whiskey too, if we’re feeling fancy. You guys in?”

Sana hesitates, then smiles. “Yeah, okay. Sounds fun.”

“Sweet,” Miyeon says, clapping her hands once, like it’s settled. “Something to look forward to after this shitty day.”

You all sit there a minute longer, the mugs empty now, the fire crackling mixing with the rain. Sana yawns next, covering her mouth with the blanket edge. “I’m so tired,” she mumbles. “This whole thing wiped me out.”

“Yeah, same,” Miyeon agrees, rubbing her eyes. “We should crash. You really good with us stealing your bedroom?”

“Take it,” you say, standing up to stretch. “Bed’s made, pillows and shit are in the closet if you need extra. I’ll grab the couch.”

“Are you sure we're not—” Sana starts, but you wave her off.

“Nah, it’s fine. Couch is comfy enough. You guys get the room, no biggie.” You grab the mugs, stacking them to carry to the sink, and they shuffle off the couch, gathering their bags.

“Thanks again, dude,” Miyeon says, dragging her duffel over her shoulder. “You’re, like, our storm savior.”

“Anytime,” you say, smirking. “Night, you two.”

“Night,” Sana echoes, giving you a little wave as they head down the hall. You hear the spare room door click shut, some muffled giggles and whispers filtering through before it quiets down. You rinse the mugs in the kitchen, flick off the lights, and flop onto the couch, dragging a throw blanket over yourself. The rain’s still going hard outside, but inside it’s warm and peaceful. Tomorrow’s got drinks on deck, and with Miyeon and Sana around, it’s shaping up to be a hell of a night. You close your eyes, the storm lulling you off, and crash out with a dumb little smile tugging at your lips.

—

You blink awake on the couch, the blanket tangled around your legs, sunlight sneaking through the blinds in thin, golden stripes. The house is quiet—no rain, no wind, just the soft hum of the heater ticking down, the fireplace already out. You sit up, rubbing your face, and that’s when you smell it: coffee, faint but fresh, and something sweet lingering in the air. Stumbling to your feet, you shuffle to the kitchen and spot a little spread on the counter—toast stacked on a plate, a jar of jam open next to it, and a couple strips of bacon still warm under a paper towel. There’s a note scribbled in messy handwriting: “Thanks for last night! Enjoy – M & S.” You smirk, figuring it’s the girls’ doing. They’re not around, though—place feels empty without their chatter.

You scarf down the breakfast—crisp toast slathered with strawberry jam, bacon salty and perfect—then hit the shower, letting the hot water blast away the last of the sleep haze. By the time you’re dressed—jeans, a hoodie, sneakers—it’s pushing 9 a.m. You grab your camera bag, sling it over your shoulder, and step outside. Holy shit, it’s a different world. After yesterday’s apocalyptic downpour, the sun’s out, blazing in a sky so blue it looks photoshopped. The lake sparkles, all glassy and calm, and the air’s crisp but not freezing, a perfect late-morning vibe. You’re still marveling at it when a loud whoop cuts through the silence, followed by a splash.

Your head snaps toward the pier, and there’s Miyeon, mid-air, cannonballing into the water with a scream that’s half-laugh, half-battle cry. She’s in a red swimsuit, bright against the lake, and as she surfaces, shaking wet hair out of her face, you spot Sana on the pier, waving at you in a pink bikini that hugs her curves just right. They’re both stupidly gorgeous, and for a second, you’re just standing there, camera dangling, brain short-circuiting. Miyeon’s got a little more thickness to her—medium, perky breasts filling out that swimsuit top, a round ass that’s damn near hypnotizing as she climbs back onto the pier. Sana’s slimmer, all sleek lines and subtle curves, the bikini showing off her tiny waist and long legs. You snap out of it when they call you over, Miyeon’s voice carrying: “Yo, camera guy! Get your ass down here!”

You jog over, grinning as you hit the pier’s edge. “Morning, ladies,” you say, shielding your eyes from the sun. “You two look way too chipper after last night.”

“Slept like babies,” Miyeon says, wringing water out of her hair, droplets splattering the wood. “Your place is cozy as hell. How’d you hold up on that couch?”

“Good enough,” you say, shrugging. “Woke up to breakfast, though—that was clutch. Thanks for that.”

Sana beams, sitting cross-legged on the pier, her pink bikini practically glowing in the sunlight. “I made it. Miyeon can’t cook for shit, so I took over.”

“Facts,” Miyeon says, not even arguing. “She’s a wizard in the kitchen. That bacon? Her doing. I’d burn the house down trying.”

“Shit, well, it was awesome,” you say, nodding at Sana. “Seriously, thank you. Didn’t expect the VIP treatment.”

Sana blushes a little, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No biggie. Least we could do.”

Miyeon flops onto her back, stretching out like a cat in the sun. “Weather’s fuckin’ perfect today. Checked the forecast—sunny all day, but there’s another cold front rolling in tomorrow. Gotta soak this up while we can.” She props up on her elbows, eyeing you. “Come swim with us, dude. Water’s not even that cold.”

“Yeah, join us!” Sana chimes in, standing up and tugging at your arm. They’re both at it now, pulling you toward the edge, their wet hands slippery on your hoodie. Miyeon’s got that mischievous grin, and Sana’s giggling like she’s in on the plot.

You laugh, but it’s nervous, your feet planted. “Nah, I’ve got plans—gonna hike around, shoot some nature stuff. You know, trees, birds, all that shit.”

Miyeon sits up, crossing her arms under her chest, which—fuck, that swimsuit’s doing work. “Bro, we’re nature. Take pics of us instead. Way prettier than some random-ass tree.”

You smirk, caught off guard but not mad about it. “Can’t argue that. Alright, fine—photo shoot it is.”

Sana claps, bouncing a little. “Yes! These swimsuits are new, too. Gotta show ‘em off. Right, Miyeon?”

“Hell yeah,” Miyeon says, hopping to her feet. “Red’s my color, and pink’s hers. Perfect combo.”

You sling your camera out, adjusting the settings quick—bright sun, sharp focus. They start posing, and it’s like they were born for this. Miyeon’s all bold energy, leaning forward with a flirty smirk, then turning to show off that ass, one hand on her hip. Sana’s softer, tilting her head, letting her hair spill over her shoulder, giving you these quiet, sultry looks that hit harder than they should. Then they get together—arms around each other, laughing, pressing close like the girlfriends they are. Miyeon pulls Sana in for a playful kiss on the cheek, and Sana squeals, shoving her off, but they’re both cracking up. You’re snapping away, the shutter clicking like crazy, and every shot’s a banger—sunlight glinting off their skin, the lake shimmering behind them.

“Check these out,” you say, flipping the camera around. They crowd in, still dripping, Miyeon’s arm brushing yours as they ooh and ahh over the screen. “Holy shit, we look hot,” Miyeon says, zooming in on one where she’s tossing her hair back mid-laugh. Sana nods, pointing at another. “That one’s my favorite. The light’s perfect.”

“Glad you like ‘em,” you say, pocketing the camera. “I’ll send ‘em later with yesterday's photos.”

“Sweet,” Miyeon says, then glances at the lake. “You sure you won’t swim? Last chance before it’s all cold and shitty again.”

“Nah, I’m good,” you say, stepping back. “Gonna roam around, get some shots of the woods. Plus, I’ll swing by the city later—grab that fuel line part for your generator and fix it up.”

Sana’s eyes widen. “Wait, for real? You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s nothing,” you say, waving it off. “Hardware store’s not far, and I’ve got the tools. Beats you guys sitting in the dark again.”

Miyeon grins, big and genuine. “Dude, you’re too nice. Like, suspiciously nice. What’s your angle?”

You laugh. “No angle. Just don’t wanna see you stuck. Plus, I’m bored out here—gives me something to do.”

“Well, we owe you big time,” Sana says, hugging herself as a breeze kicks up. “Oh—can we charge our phones at your place? They’re basically dead, and we’ve got no juice over there.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you say, nodding toward your house. “Plenty of outlets. Leave ‘em as long as you need.”

“Sweet, thanks,” Miyeon says, already heading back to the pier’s edge. “We’ll catch you later then—drinks tonight, right?”

“Bet,” you say, giving them a mock salute. “Enjoy the sun, ladies.”

They wave as you head off, Miyeon shouting, “Don’t get lost in the woods, camera guy!” before cannonballing back into the water with another splash. You shake your head, smirking, and start down the path toward the trees, camera in hand. The day’s wide open, the girls are vibing, and you’ve got a solid plan—photos now, hero shit later, drinks to cap it off.

Not a bad way to spend a Saturday.

—

The sun’s dipping low now, painting the sky in lazy streaks of orange and pink as you roll back up to the lake house in your SUV. The gravel crunches under the tires, and you kill the engine, grabbing the plastic bag from the passenger seat—inside’s the new fuel line you snagged from the hardware store in town, plus a couple bags of chips, some salsa, and a pack of those sour gummy worms Miyeon seemed like she’d vibe with. You step out, the air cooler now that the afternoon’s winding down, and spot the girls on your porch, sprawled out like they’ve claimed the place.

Miyeon’s lounging in one of the wooden chairs, legs kicked up on the railing, scrolling her phone with one hand while the other toys with a strand of her damp hair—she’s still in that red swimsuit, a towel draped over her lap. Sana’s cross-legged on the floor next to her, phone plugged into an extension cord snaking through the open window, her pink bikini swapped for a loose tee and shorts. They look up as you approach, Miyeon tossing you a lazy wave while Sana gives a little smile, like they’ve been waiting for you to roll in.

“Yo, I’m back,” you say, holding up the bag. “Got the fuel line. And some snacks for later—figured we’d need something to munch on with the drinks.”

Miyeon drops her feet from the railing, sitting up with a grin. “You’re a fucking legend, dude. I’ll Venmo you later for the part—how much was it?”

“Like, twenty bucks,” you say, shrugging. “No rush.”

Sana tilts her head, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You sure you don’t need help with the generator? I’m useless with that stuff, but I can, like, hold a flashlight or something.”

“Nah, I got it,” you say, slinging your camera bag off your shoulder and setting it by the door. “Watched a couple YouTube vids earlier—think I can handle it solo. You guys just chill here.”

Miyeon laughs, leaning back in her chair. “Yeah, good call. We’d probably just fuck it up worse. I don’t even know what a fuel line is.”

“Same,” Sana adds, giggling. “You’re on your own, hero.”

“Cool,” you say, grabbing the bag with the part and heading off. “I’ll trek over there and sort it out. Be back in a bit.”

You make the short walk around the lake, the last of the sunlight glinting off the water, your boots sinking slightly into the still-damp ground. Their house looks less ominous now, just a quiet two-story sitting there in the evening glow. You head to the shed out back, popping it open with a creak, and there’s the generator—same sad, silent hunk of metal from last night. You drop to your knees, fishing the new fuel line out of the bag, and get to work.

The YouTube tutorials you skimmed earlier play back in your head—some dude with a thick accent walking through the steps like it’s no big deal. First, you kill the fuel switch, making sure no gas is leaking out, then unhook the old line—cracked and crusty, just like you thought. A little diesel dribbles onto your hands, stinking like hell, but you wipe it on your jeans and keep going. The new line’s a perfect fit, sliding into place with a satisfying click. You tighten the clamps with a screwdriver from their toolbox, double-checking everything’s snug. Then it’s just a matter of priming the fuel pump—couple quick pumps like the guy said—and flipping the switch. The generator sputters once, twice, then roars to life, a steady hum kicking in. You stand back, grinning like an idiot. Fixed. Lights flicker on in the house behind you, and you give yourself a mental high-five—DIY king shit.

You trudge back to your place, wiping your greasy hands on a rag you snagged from their shed. The girls spot you coming and perk up—Miyeon’s on her feet, Miyeon swapped her swimsuit for shorts and a tank top. Sana’s leaning forward, both of them looking hopeful. “Well?” Miyeon calls out, arms crossed.

“Done,” you say, tossing the rag onto the porch steps. “Generator’s purring like a kitten. You’ve got power again.”

Sana lets out this big, relieved sigh, clutching her phone to her chest. “Oh my God, thank you. I was legit stressed about that.”

Miyeon whoops, bounding over and throwing her arms around you in a quick, tight hug. “Dude, you’re the best! I owe you more than twenty bucks for this.”

You laugh, patting her back before she pulls away. “Nah, just keep the drinks flowing tonight, and we’re square.”

“Deal,” Sana says, standing up now, her whole vibe brighter. “Speaking of, let’s crack those beers. I’m way happier now that we’re not, like, pioneer women anymore.”

“Bet,” you say, heading inside to drop the snacks on the kitchen counter. The girls follow, Miyeon raiding your fridge for the beers while Sana digs into the chip bag already. You grab a deck of cards from a drawer, flipping it in your hand. “You guys play cards?”

Miyeon pops a beer open, foam hissing as she takes a sip. “I do. Poker, blackjack, whatever. I’m decent.”

Sana shrugs, munching a chip. “I’ve never played. Like, ever. I don’t even know the rules.”

“No shit?” you say, pulling out a chair at the table and motioning them over. “Alright, I’ll teach you. Easy stuff—let’s start with blackjack. You’ll pick it up quick.”

They settle in, Miyeon plopping down across from you with her beer, Sana sliding into the seat next to her, still clutching the chip bag like it’s a security blanket. You shuffle the deck, the cards snapping under your fingers, and deal out the first hand—two cards each. “Goal’s simple,” you say, tossing yourself a jack and a five. “Get as close to twenty-one as you can without going over. Face cards are ten, aces are one or eleven, whatever you need. You want another card, you say ‘hit.’ You’re good, you ‘stay.’ Bust, you lose.”

Sana stares at her cards—a seven and a three—furrowing her brow like it’s a math test. “Okay… hit?”

You flick her a nine, and she gasps. “Shit, that’s nineteen! I stay, right?”

“Yeah, smart call,” you say, grinning. “Miyeon?”

She’s got a queen and a four, smirking like she’s already won. “Hit.” You deal her a six—twenty. “Stay,” she says, leaning back with a cocky tilt to her head.

You flip your second card—a nine. “Dealer’s got nineteen,” you say, checking the deck. “Sana, you’re good. Miyeon wins, though—twenty’s closer.”

“Fuck yeah,” Miyeon says, fist-pumping. “Told you I’m good.”

Sana pouts, but she’s laughing. “Beginner’s luck doesn’t count, right?”

“Nope,” you say, gathering the cards. “Let’s go again. You’ll get the hang of it.”

The hours slip by like nothing, the table a mess of empty beer cans, crumpled chip bags, and a half-eaten pile of gummy worms stuck to the salsa lid. The cards are long forgotten, scattered across the table from your last sloppy round of blackjack—Sana kept busting and blaming the “stupid rules,” while Miyeon was raking in wins like she’d been hustling casinos her whole life. The drinks keep flowing, whiskey now in the mix, poured into mismatched mugs because you ran out of clean glasses. The room’s warm, a little hazy, the heater still chugging along as the night deepens outside, but there are no more stars in the sky, and you already know what's coming.

You’re slouched in your chair, one leg kicked up on the empty seat next to you, feeling the buzz settle into your bones. Across the table, Sana’s climbed into Miyeon’s lap at some point—nobody batted an eye, least of all you. They’re comfy like that, Sana’s head tucked against Miyeon’s shoulder, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on Miyeon’s arm while Miyeon’s got one hand draped around Sana’s waist, the other nursing her whiskey mug. They’re drunk, giggling messes, and you’re not far behind, the room spinning just enough to make everything funnier than it should be.

“Alright, camera guy,” Miyeon says, her voice a little slurred but still sharp, cutting through the haze. “Spill it. When’s the last time you had a girlfriend? You’re too chill to be single forever.”

You laugh, rubbing the back of your neck, the whiskey loosening your tongue. “Uh, shit, like two years ago? She was cool, but it didn’t stick. Been flying solo since then—works better that way, you know? Just me and my camera, no drama.”

Sana tilts her head, her lips curling into a teasing little smile. “Two years? Damn, you’re basically a monk.”

“Monk with a lens,” Miyeon adds, smirking. “Bet you’ve got girls tripping over you and you just don’t notice.”

“Nah,” you say, waving it off, though the compliment lands nice. “I’m good on my own. Relationships are… a lot.”

They exchange a look then—quick, sneaky, like they’re in on some secret. Sana whispers something in Miyeon’s ear, her breath tickling Miyeon’s neck, and Miyeon snickers, her eyes flicking to you. They both start giggling, sloppy and loud, and you lean forward, squinting. “What? What’s so funny?”

Miyeon shakes her head, still laughing. “Nothing, nothing. Just—we’ve got this friend, Shuhua. She’s super chill, loves hiking, nature vibes, all that shit you’re into. You’d hit it off.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sana pipes up, sitting up a little straighter on Miyeon’s lap, her cheeks flushed from the booze. “And Tzuyu too! She’s, like, gorgeous and artsy. Total your type.”

Miyeon nods like it’s settled. “Yeah, Tzuyu’s got that quiet, mysterious thing going. You’d be obsessed.”

You snort, taking a sip of your whiskey, the burn sliding down easy. “What, you two playing matchmaker now? I said I’m good.”

Miyeon’s grin turns mischievous, her eyes glinting under the dim kitchen light. “Okay, fine, but let’s be real for a sec. Between me and Sana—” she tightens her grip on Sana’s waist, making her squirm and giggle—“who’d you pick? Like, if you had to. Be honest.”

Sana’s head snaps up, her face going red. “Miyeon! Don’t ask that, oh my God!” She swats at Miyeon’s hand, but she’s laughing too, hiding her face in Miyeon’s shoulder for a sec before peeking out at you, all shy and curious.

You freeze, the mug halfway to your lips, caught off guard. “Uh… what?” Your voice comes out higher than you mean it to, and you clear your throat, trying to play it cool. “I don’t—I mean, I can’t just… pick. I don’t know.”

Miyeon’s eyebrows shoot up, and she leans forward, dragging Sana with her. “Oh, come on! You’re dodging. You totally know, you’re just too chicken to say it.”

“Am not,” you shoot back, but your face is heating up, and the whiskey’s not helping. You glance between them—Miyeon’s got that bold, flirty edge, all confidence and heat, her lips quirked like she’s daring you to say something stupid. Sana’s softer, her blush spreading, but there’s this spark in her eyes now, playful and warm, like she’s testing you too. They’re both ridiculous, and it’s doing shit to your head.

“So what I’m hearing,” Miyeon says, dragging the words out, “is you’d take both of us. Greedy bastard.”

“What—no!” you sputter, nearly choking on your drink. “That’s not what I said! You’re twisting it!”

Sana bursts out laughing, her whole body shaking against Miyeon. “Oh my God, you’re so greedy! Wanting us both, huh?”

“Fuck off, I didn’t say that,” you protest, but you’re laughing too, the absurdity of it hitting you all at once. “You two are wasted. I’m not even dignifying this.”

Miyeon grins wider, leaning closer across the table, her voice dropping low and teasing. “Oh, please. You couldn’t handle us anyway. We’re a lot, you know. High maintenance.”

Sana nods, mock-serious. “So much work. You’d be crying in a week.”

“Yeah, right,” you fire back, the whiskey buzzing through you now, making you bold. “I’d keep up. You’d be the ones begging for a break.”

Miyeon’s eyes widen, and she lets out a loud, “Ooooh!” Sana gasps, covering her mouth, but she’s smiling like crazy behind her hand. “He’s got some fight in him,” Miyeon says, leaning back and fanning herself dramatically. “Sana, you hear that? He thinks he’s tough enough for us.”

“I’m just saying,” you mutter, sinking into your chair, “you’re the ones who’d tap out first.”

Sana giggles, sliding off Miyeon’s lap to grab another beer from the fridge, her shorts riding up as she bends over. She spins back around, popping the cap with a lighter she snagged off the table. “You’re funny,” she says, pointing at you. “And shy as hell right now. Look at you.”

“Shut up,” you say, but you’re grinning, your face burning under their stares. “You’re both too drunk. This convo’s going off the rails—I’m scared of where it’s headed.”

Miyeon laughs, loud and unfiltered, tipping her mug back for the last of her whiskey. “Scared? Good. You should be. We’re trouble, camera guy. Double trouble.”

“Triple, with the drinks,” Sana adds, sliding back onto Miyeon’s lap, beer in hand. She takes a sip, then offers it to Miyeon, who leans in close, their lips brushing for a second as she drinks. It’s casual, natural for them, but it hits you like a punch—subtle, hot, and gone too fast to process.

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog. “Yeah, I’m calling it. You two are a menace. I’m having way too much fun, though.”

“Same,” Sana says, her voice softer now, her head resting on Miyeon’s shoulder again. “You’re cool, you know that?”

“Very cool,” Miyeon agrees, her hand sliding up Sana’s back, casual but possessive. “We’ll let you off the hook for now. But don’t think we’re done messing with you.”

You laugh, raising your mug in a mock toast. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Night’s still young, right?”

They clink their drinks against yours, the three of you grinning like idiots, the flirtation simmering under the surface—light, playful, but with an edge that keeps you on your toes. You take a sip of your whiskey, the burn familiar now, and figure it’s your turn to flip the script. “Alright,” you say, setting the mug down with a little thud to get their attention. “You’ve been grilling me about my love life—or lack of it. What about you two? How’d you even end up together?”

Miyeon’s head tilts back as she laughs, her black hair spilling over her shoulders. “Oh, dude, it’s a story. We met at some shitty college party—like, the kind with warm beer and a playlist that’s just Top 40 on repeat. I was trashed, trying to shotgun a can, and Sana was there, all cute and quiet, holding a red cup she wasn’t even drinking from.”

Sana nods, her cheeks already pink from the booze. “She spilled beer all over me trying to show off. I was pissed, but then she started apologizing like a maniac, and… I don’t know, she was funny about it. We just clicked.”

“Clicked, huh?” you say, smirking. “That’s cute. So, what’s the secret? Two and a half years is solid—most people can’t keep a houseplant alive that long.”

Miyeon shrugs, her hand sliding idly up Sana’s back, fingers tracing the hem of her tee. “Dunno. We just vibe. She keeps me from doing dumb shit—like, most of the time—and I make sure she doesn’t stay in her shell forever. Balance, you know?”

“Yeah,” Sana adds, leaning into Miyeon’s touch, her voice soft. “She’s loud and I’m not. Works out.”

You nod, letting the moment settle, then push a little further, keeping it chill. “Ever have any big fights? Like, the kind where you’re slamming doors or sleeping on the couch?”

Sana giggles, shaking her head. “Not really. We argue sometimes—stupid stuff, like who forgot to buy milk—but Miyeon’s too lazy to storm out, and I hate sleeping alone.”

“Facts,” Miyeon says, grinning. “I’d rather just bitch for five minutes and then make out. Way easier.”

You laugh, the image of them bickering-then-kissing too good to not picture. “Smart move. Alright, let’s level up—any exes still lurking around? Old flames trying to slide back in?”

Miyeon’s eyes narrow playfully, like she’s onto your game, but she answers anyway. “Couple of mine tried. Dudes mostly—had a few boyfriends before Sana. They’d hit me up like, ‘Oh, you’re with a girl now? That’s hot.’ Blocked them so fast. Sana’s exes are too scared of me to try anything.”

Sana snorts, nudging Miyeon’s shoulder. “You’re not that scary. They’re just… I don’t know, they’re all girls anyway. Nobody’s dumb enough to mess with us now.”

“Fair,” you say, leaning forward, resting your elbows on the table. The whiskey’s got your tongue loose, and the vibe’s right, so you nudge the questions up a notch—still smooth, but with a little heat. “So, Miyeon, you’ve dated guys before, right? Sana—you ever been with one? Like, ever?”

They glance at each other quick, a flicker of something passing between them—Sana’s blush deepens, and Miyeon’s grin turns sly. “Me? Yeah,” Miyeon says, casual as hell. “I’m bi—guys, girls, whatever. If they’re hot and fun, I’m down. Dated a couple dudes before I figured out I liked girls just as much. No big deal.”

Sana shifts on Miyeon’s lap, her fingers tightening around her beer bottle. “I… no. Never been with a guy. Always just girls for me.” Her voice is quieter, a little shy, but she doesn’t look away.

Miyeon tilts her head, resting her chin on Sana’s shoulder, her eyes locked on you now. “She’s curious, though,” she says, dropping it like a bomb, her tone teasing but deliberate. “Always has been. Right, babe?”

Sana’s face flares red, and she swats at Miyeon’s arm, flustered. “Miyeon! Shut up, oh my God!” She buries her face in her hands for a sec, then peeks out, still giggling despite herself. “I mean… yeah, okay, I’ve thought about it. Like, wondered what it’d be like. But that’s it. Closest I’ve gotten is—” She stops, biting her lip, and Miyeon finishes for her.

“The strap,” Miyeon says, smirking like she’s proud of it. “I’ve got this one that’s, uh, pretty realistic. She loves it, but it’s still not the real deal, you know?”

Sana groans, dropping her forehead onto Miyeon’s shoulder. “You’re the worst. Why do you say shit like that?”

You laugh, holding up your hands. “Hey, no judgment here. We’re all adults—shit gets spicy sometimes. Sounds like you’ve got it figured out anyway.”

Miyeon’s still watching you, her smirk softening into something sharper, more curious. Sana lifts her head, her embarrassment fading into a playful little pout as she takes a swig of her beer. “Okay, but why’re you asking?” she says, her tone turning provocative, her eyes narrowing just a bit. “You digging for details, huh? What’s your deal?”

You freeze for a sec, caught off guard, the whiskey making your brain a little slow to catch up. “What? Nah, I’m just—curious, I guess. Making conversation. That’s all.”

Miyeon’s not buying it, her head tilting like she’s sizing you up. “Bullshit. You’re interested. I can see it. All these questions—you’re fishing for something, aren’t you?”

“Fishing?” you say, leaning back, trying to play it cool but feeling the heat creeping up your neck. “Come on, I’m just chilling. Anyone stuck out here with you two would be asking the same shit. You’re the only entertainment I’ve got.”

Sana giggles, her pout turning into a grin as she leans forward, elbows on the table now, her chin in her hands. “Oh, so we’re entertainment? That’s your excuse?”

“Yeah, exactly,” you say, grinning back, the tension easing but still simmering under the surface. “Two hot girls, drunk and spilling secrets? Who wouldn’t be into that?”

Miyeon laughs, loud and bright, tipping her head back. “Fair. You’ve got a point. We are hot.” She nudges Sana, who’s still blushing but clearly loving the vibe. “He’s not wrong, babe.”

“Still,” Sana says, her voice softer but with a teasing edge, “you’re digging pretty deep. What’s next, you gonna ask our favorite positions or something?”

You choke on your whiskey, coughing into your fist as Miyeon cackles. “Jesus, no,” you manage, wiping your mouth. “I’m not that drunk. Yet.”

“Yet,” Miyeon echoes, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Give it an hour. We’ll get you there.”

The room’s buzzing now, the flirtation weaving through the air like a quiet current—nothing overt, but it’s there, subtle and growing. You take another sip, letting it burn, and lean back in your chair, meeting Miyeon’s gaze for a second longer than you should. Sana’s watching too, her smile small but knowing, like she’s in on the game.

The conversation’s still humming along, the whiskey keeping the edges soft and the laughter loud. You’re mid-sentence, riffing on some dumb story about a camping trip gone wrong years ago, when a faint patter hits the deck outside. At first, you think it’s just the wind kicking up, but then it gets louder, steadier—rain, drumming hard against the wood. The temperature drops fast, a chill sneaking through the open window, cutting through the cozy haze of the kitchen. Miyeon shivers, rubbing her bare arms, and Sana pulls her tee tighter around herself, her beer bottle clinking against the table as she sets it down.

“Shit, there it goes again,” you say, standing up to slide the window shut. The cold’s biting now, the kind that makes your breath fog indoors if you’re not careful. “The couch is calling us.”

They nod, grabbing their drinks and stumbling after you, a little wobbly from the booze. You flick on the living room lamp, its warm glow spilling over the plush couch and the throw blankets piled on the armrest. The fireplace is out, but the heater’s still doing its thing, and the room feels like a bubble against the storm outside. You flop into the corner of the couch, one leg tucked under you, the whiskey mug warm in your hands. Miyeon and Sana collapse together on the other end, a tangle of limbs and giggles—Sana’s half-draped over Miyeon, her head lolling against Miyeon’s chest as Miyeon wraps an arm around her.

“Fuck, your place is so warm,” Miyeon sighs, kicking off her flip-flops and pulling her feet up onto the cushions. “Ours would be an icebox right now with that busted generator.”

“Perks of not slacking on maintenance,” you say, smirking as you take a sip. “You’re welcome to crash anytime it shits the bed.”

Sana hums, her eyes half-closed, nestled into Miyeon like she’s ready to doze off. “Good to know. You’re spoiling us.”

The rain’s pounding now, a steady roar against the roof, and for a while, you all just sit there, letting the sound fill the silence. It’s not awkward—more like a breather, the kind where everyone’s too buzzed and content to force more chatter. But then you catch it: the way they’re looking at you. Miyeon’s got this lazy, lidded gaze, her lips parted just enough to show a hint of teeth, and Sana’s peeking up from Miyeon’s chest, her eyes brighter than they should be for how drunk she is. They’re giggling to themselves, quiet little bursts, like they’re sharing some inside joke you’re not in on yet.

You lean back, resting your head against the couch, and glance out at the deck, rain streaking the glass doors. “Getting late,” you say, casual, testing the vibe. “This storm’s not letting up anytime soon.”

Sana stretches, her tee riding up to flash a sliver of stomach, and sits up a little. “Tonight was so fun, though. Way more than we thought it’d be, stuck out here alone.”

“Yeah,” Miyeon agrees, her hand lingering on Sana’s thigh, fingers tracing absent circles. “Didn’t expect to end up with a generator-fixing, blackjack-teaching hero. You’re full of surprises.”

You laugh, shrugging it off, but the compliment sticks. “Glad I could keep you entertained. We can run it back tomorrow—more drinks, more cards, whatever. Weather’s supposed to clear up.”

“Sweet,” Sana says, her voice soft but perky. Then Miyeon shifts, her eyes locking onto yours, and there’s something different in them now—sharper, bolder.

“Fun doesn’t have to end now, though,” she says, slow and deliberate, like she’s dropping a hint she knows you’ll catch.

You tilt your head, playing dumb but feeling the shift. “What’s that mean?”

She smirks, leaning forward just enough to close some distance, her arm sliding behind Sana on the couch. “What’re you doing later? After we’re done sitting here?”

“Uh, sleeping?” you say, half-laughing, though your pulse kicks up a notch. “That’s the plan, anyway.”

Miyeon’s grin widens, and she glances at Sana, who’s biting her lip like she’s holding back a laugh. “Yeah, well, me and Sana—we’re probably gonna fuck,” Miyeon says, blunt as hell, her tone light but her eyes steady on you. “We were supposed to last night, but, you know, generator drama killed the mood. So now we’re kinda pent up. Horny as shit, honestly.”

You choke on your whiskey, coughing into your sleeve as the words hit you like a freight train. “Jesus, warn a guy,” you mutter, wiping your mouth, your face hot. Sana’s giggling now, hiding half her face in Miyeon’s shoulder, but she’s not denying it.

“What?” Miyeon says, all fake innocence, leaning back and pulling Sana closer. “Just being real. You asked.”

“I literally didn't ask anything,” you say, but you’re laughing, the shock mixing with the buzz and turning into something else—something that’s got your stomach tightening.

Sana whispers something into Miyeon’s ear, her voice too low to catch, and Miyeon’s smirk softens into something… hungrier. She looks back at you. “It’s pouring out there,” she says, nodding toward the glass doors, where the rain’s still hammering down in sheets. “We’d get soaked going back. Mind if we crash here tonight?”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, automatic, trying to keep your cool. “The bed is yours, I'm getting used to the couch.”

Sana’s the one who pipes up now, her voice quiet but cutting through the tension. “Sleeping alone in this cold sucks, though. Don’t you think?”

You blink, caught off guard again, your brain scrambling. “Uh… yeah, I guess?”

Miyeon’s watching you close now, her hand sliding up Sana’s back again, possessive but gentle. “What if…” she starts, pausing just long enough to let it sink in, “you joined us? Like, all three of us. Together.”

Your mouth goes dry, the words landing heavy. “Wait, what—like, serious? Or are you just drunk and fucking with me?”

Miyeon doesn’t flinch. She leans forward instead, setting her mug on the table with a soft clink, then turns to Sana. Without breaking eye contact with you, she cups Sana’s face and kisses her—slow, deep, not some quick peck but a real, sensual thing. Lips parted, tongues meeting, the kind of kiss that’s got heat behind it. Sana melts into it, her hands clutching Miyeon’s tank top, and when they pull apart, breathless, they both turn to you. Sana’s flushed, her eyes glassy, and Miyeon’s got this smug, daring look.

“Does that look like we’re fucking with you?” Miyeon says, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb.

Sana’s quieter, her voice a little shaky but steady enough. “You’re cool. And… kinda hot, honestly. We’ve been talking about it all night.”

“Yeah,” Miyeon adds, leaning into it now, her confidence dialed up. “I wanna see you fuck Sana. Like, I’d be there too—watching, helping, whatever. She’s curious, and I think you’d be perfect for her first time with a guy.”

Your head’s spinning, the room suddenly way too small, the air thick with something you can’t shake. Your dick twitches at the thought—Sana’s soft curves under you, Miyeon’s eyes on you, directing it all. It’s a lot, fast, and your heart’s pounding against your ribs. “Fuck,” you breathe, running a hand through your hair. “You’re not kidding.”

“Nope,” Miyeon says, popping the ‘p’ again, her smirk lethal. “So? What do you say?”

Sana’s staring at you now, bottom lip caught between her teeth, nervous but wanting, and Miyeon’s got that predatory edge, like she’s already decided how this is gonna go. The tension’s a live wire, humming between you, and you’re stuck, half-panicked, half-turned on, trying to process what the hell’s happening as the rain keeps drumming outside.

“Fuck it, I’m up for it.”

Miyeon’s grin stretches wide, victorious, and she slides off the couch, her bare feet hitting the hardwood with a soft thud. “Good answer,” she says, her voice low and sultry, like she’s been waiting for this all night. “Come closer, then.” She beckons you with a curl of her finger, her eyes locked on yours, daring you to hesitate.

You don’t. You push off the couch, the whiskey buzz making your steps feel loose, and cross the small gap to where she’s standing. Up close, she’s all heat and confidence—her tank top clings to her frame, her dark hair messy from the day, and she smells faintly of sunscreen and beer. She steps in, closing the distance, and grabs the front of your hoodie, pulling you down just enough to crash her lips into yours.

It’s sudden, rough, and you’re caught off guard—your hands hover for a split second, unsure where to land, before instinct kicks in. You kiss her back, tentative at first, lips brushing hers, tasting the sharp edge of whiskey and the faintest hint of her chapstick. Then she presses closer, her tongue flicking against your bottom lip, and you’re done holding back. You dive in, deepening the kiss, your hands finding her waist, sliding up the curve of her sides under her tank. Her skin’s warm, smooth, and she lets out this little hum against your mouth that sends a jolt straight down your spine.

Sana’s still on the couch, watching, her breath hitching audibly. You can feel her eyes on you, a quiet intensity in the way she’s perched there—legs tucked under her, hands gripping the blanket like it’s an anchor. Miyeon breaks the kiss for a second, her lips hovering an inch from yours, her breath hot against your skin. She glances over her shoulder at Sana, smirking. “Your turn, babe,” she says, her voice thick with promise.

Sana hesitates, her wide eyes darting between you and Miyeon, but there’s no mistaking the want there, the curiosity flickering behind her nerves. She slides off the couch slow, her bare feet padding across the floor, and stops just in front of you. Up close, she’s smaller than Miyeon—slimmer, softer, her oversized tee swallowing her frame, her shorts barely peeking out. Her lips glisten with gloss, and when she looks up at you, all shy and flushed, makes you breathless.

You don’t wait for her to make the first move. You step in, gentle but sure, cupping her face with one hand, your thumb brushing her cheek. “You good?” you murmur, giving her an out, but she just nods, quick and eager, her breath catching. Then you lean in, and her lips meet yours—soft, plush, addictive as hell. She tastes like gloss and the faint tang of beer, sweet and heady, and it’s different from Miyeon’s fire—slower, more tentative, but just as hungry. You kiss her deeper, letting her melt into it, your free hand settling on her hip, pulling her closer. She sighs into your mouth, a tiny, needy sound that lights you up.

Miyeon’s not sitting this out. She steps in behind Sana, her hands sliding over Sana’s shoulders, then down to her waist, guiding her closer to you. She’s watching, her lips parted, eyes dark with heat. Sana’s still kissing you, lost in it, when Miyeon takes her hand—small, trembling—and moves it, pressing it against the front of your jeans. You’re already hard, straining against the denim, and the second Sana’s fingers brush over you, your breath hitches.

“Fuck,” you mutter against Sana’s lips, and Miyeon laughs, low and throaty.

“Hot, right?” Miyeon says, her voice dripping with satisfaction. She’s pressed up against Sana’s back now, her chin resting on Sana’s shoulder, watching you both like she’s directing this whole show. Sana’s hand trembles, but she doesn’t pull away—she squeezes, hesitant but curious, her warm palm cupping you through the fabric. It’s clumsy, unsure, but that only makes it hotter, the newness of it driving you wild.

“Jesus, this is insane,” you say, pulling back just enough to look at them—Sana’s blushing hard, her eyes wide and dazed, Miyeon’s grinning, all smug and turned on. Sana’s hand stays where it is, her fingers flexing slightly, like she’s testing how you feel, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control not to lose it right there.

Miyeon’s eyes flick down to where Sana’s touching you, then back up to your face. “She’s doing good, huh?” she teases, her hand sliding up Sana’s arm, encouraging her. “But fuck, I’m already soaked just watching this. Let’s take it to your room, yeah? This couch isn’t big enough for what I’ve got in mind.”

Sana finally pulls her hand back, her face half-hidden in Miyeon’s neck, embarrassed but buzzing with excitement. You nod, still half-dazed, the reality of it sinking in. “Yeah… yeah, let’s go,” you say, voice rough, your heart hammering as you lead the way.

The hallway’s a blur, your footsteps heavy, their bare feet padding behind you. You push open your bedroom door—messy bed, clothes tossed on the chair, the faint glow of a lamp in the corner—and step inside, the air cooler here but still thick with tension. You turn to face them, Miyeon moves first, her fingers hooking under the hem of her tank top. She peels it off slow, deliberate, letting it slide up her torso, exposing the smooth plane of her stomach, then the curve of her ribs, before tugging it over her head and tossing it aside. Her black bra clings to her, lacy and thin, her medium, perky breasts straining against it—she’s all confidence, hips cocked, watching your reaction.

Sana’s shyer, her hands trembling just a little as she grabs the bottom of her oversized tee. She lifts it up, inch by inch, revealing her slim waist, the faint dip of her navel, then higher until the pink bra comes into view—simple but cute, hugging her slighter, curvier frame. She hesitates for a second before pulling the shirt all the way off, her brown hair tumbling back over her shoulders, and when she drops it to the floor, she’s blushing hard but smiling, caught up in the moment.

They kick off their shorts next—Miyeon’s denim cutoffs hit the ground with a soft thud, leaving her in matching black panties that sit low on her hips, showing off the roundness of her ass. Sana’s shorts slide down her legs slower, pooling at her ankles, and she steps out, her pink panties a soft contrast to Miyeon’s darker set, clinging to her narrower hips. Standing there in just bras and panties, they’re a fucking vision—Miyeon’s thicker, all curves and bold energy, Sana’s slimmer but still lush, her skin glowing in the low light. It’s almost too much, the way they move together, like they’re perfectly in sync even now.

Miyeon steps forward, her bare feet silent on the hardwood, and nods at Sana. “You take the hoodie,” she says, her voice low and husky, thick with intent. “I’ve got the pants.”

Sana moves in, her hands tentative but eager, reaching for the hem of your hoodie. Her fingers brush your stomach as she lifts it, her touch light, almost ticklish, and you raise your arms to help her. She pulls it up and over, her breath catching as she gets a good look at your chest, her eyes flicking up to yours—nervous, excited, a little overwhelmed. The hoodie drops to the floor, and she steps back, biting her lip, like she’s sizing you up.

Miyeon’s not wasting time. She’s already at your waist, her hands deft and sure as she pops the button on your jeans. The zipper comes down with a quick, sharp sound, and she tugs them down, past your hips, letting them pool at your ankles. Her fingers hook into the waistband of your boxers next, and with one smooth pull, those are gone too, sliding down your legs until you’re bare in front of them. She’s kneeling now, right between your thighs as you sit back on the edge of the bed, her movements all purpose and hunger, no hesitation.

Sana joins her, dropping to her knees beside Miyeon, her eyes wide and fixed on your cock—hard, thick, standing up proud. It’s the first one she’s seen up close, and you can tell it’s hitting her all at once. “Holy shit,” she whispers, almost to herself, her hand hovering like she’s not sure what to do with it yet.

Miyeon’s already on it, her fingers wrapping around the base, stroking slow and light, her thumb brushing the underside. “Go on,” she says, glancing at Sana with a smirk. “Touch it.”

Sana reaches out, her small hand trembling just a bit as she lays it over Miyeon’s, following her lead. Her fingers slide up, tentative, tracing the shaft, feeling the weight of it—the heat. She runs her thumb over the tip, where a bead of precum’s already leaking out, and her breath hitches again. “It’s… big,” she says, her voice soft, awed. “And, like… really hot.”

You groan low in your throat, the sound slipping out as their hands work together—Sana’s delicate, curious grip mixing with Miyeon’s firmer, more practiced strokes. Your cock’s throbbing now, pulsing under their touch, and it’s driving you fucking insane. Sana’s fingers wander lower, brushing over the veins, then down to your balls, cupping them gently, rolling them in her palm like she’s figuring it all out. “This is wild,” she mutters, half-laughing, her eyes flicking up to yours for a second before darting back down.

“What do you think?” Miyeon asks her, her voice teasing but edged with her own arousal. She’s watching Sana explore, her own hand still moving, keeping the rhythm steady.

Sana bites her lip, her cheeks flushed deep red. “It’s… I don’t know, it’s kinda crazy how much I like it,” she admits, her fingers tightening slightly, testing the give. “Feels alive or something.”

“Fuck, you’re killing me,” you say, your voice rough, your head tipping back for a second as the sensation hits hard. Miyeon chuckles, low and dirty, and leans closer.

“Taste it,” she says, her eyes locked on Sana’s, pushing her just a little. “Go for it.”

Sana freezes, her hand stilling, but the curiosity’s there—bright and burning in her gaze. She leans in slow, hesitant, her breath warm against your skin as she presses a tiny kiss to the tip, barely grazing it. Then another, softer, her lips parting just enough to taste the salt of you. She pulls back, blinking like she’s surprised herself, then goes again—small licks this time, her tongue darting out, testing the waters. It’s clumsy, unsure, but the heat of her mouth, the wet flick of her tongue—it’s fucking electric.

Miyeon’s watching, her own breath ragged now, her hand slipping away to let Sana take over. “Good, right?” she murmurs, her voice thick. “Keep going.”

Sana gains confidence, her lips closing around the head, sucking gently—experimental, like she’s figuring out how it feels. Her tongue swirls once, twice, and you groan again, louder, your hands gripping the sheets to keep from grabbing her head and guiding her yourself. She pulls back, a thin string of spit connecting her lips to you, and looks up, dazed but grinning. “Okay, yeah,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “That’s… a lot.”

Miyeon laughs, shifting to kneel closer, her shoulder brushing Sana’s. “Told you it’s hot. You’re doing good, babe.” She glances at you, her eyes dark. “He’s loving this shit.”

You nod, breathless, the sight of them there—half-naked, on their knees, Sana’s shy exploration and Miyeon’s hungry stare—burning into your brain.

Miyeon’s got your cock in her hand, her grip firm but teasing, her fingers curling around the base as she angles it toward Sana. “Go on, babe,” she says, her voice a low purr, her eyes flicking up to meet yours—dark, horny, locked in. “He’s all yours.”

Sana’s determination’s kicking in, the shy edge melting away as she leans forward. Her lips part, soft and wet, and she takes you in again—slower this time, more deliberate. The taste’s sinking into her now, the salt and heat, and you can see it in her eyes—she’s getting hooked. Her tongue flattens against the underside, sliding up, then curling around the tip, and you groan, low and rough, your head tipping back for a split second before you snap it forward again to watch. Miyeon’s staring too, her lips parted, her breath coming faster—she’s as turned on as you are, her thighs pressing together like she’s already feeling it.

Sana pushes further, her lips stretching around you, trying to take more. She slides down, her throat tightening, and then—she gags, a little choke that jerks her back. Her eyes water, and she pulls off, coughing into her hand, a flush creeping up her neck.

“Easy, babe,” Miyeon says, her tone soft but firm, one hand rubbing Sana’s back while the other still holds you steady. “Don’t rush it. Breathe.” She brushes Sana’s hair out of her face, gentle but with that edge of control—she’s done this before, knows the game.

Sana nods, wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist, catching her breath. “Okay,” she rasps, her voice shaky but eager. “I’m good.”

Miyeon smirks, then shifts her gaze to you. “My turn,” she says, and there’s no hesitation—she’s all in, sliding down to take Sana’s place. Her mouth’s on you in a heartbeat, hot and wet, her tongue moving like she’s mapped you out already. She’s not shy, not slow—she takes you deep right off the bat, her lips sealing tight as she sucks, hard and deliberate. Her hand works what her mouth can’t reach, stroking in sync, slick and fast. You groan louder, your hips twitching, and she hums around you, the vibration hitting you like a fucking freight train.

Sana’s watching, wide-eyed, her embarrassment replaced by something else—amazement, maybe a little envy. She’s seeing a side of Miyeon she didn’t know existed, this confident, dirty edge that’s got her girlfriend deep-throating you like it’s nothing. Miyeon’s eyes flick up to yours, locked in as she bobs her head, her cheeks hollowing out, spit slicking her lips. She pulls off slow, dragging her tongue along the underside one last time, leaving you dripping—your cock’s a mess now, glistening with her spit, throbbing hard.

“Wet enough for you, babe,” Miyeon says, wiping her chin with a smirk, her voice thick with pride. She glances at Sana, who’s still staring, her breath uneven. “Ready?”

They both stand, peeling off the last of their clothes with a slow, teasing grace that’s almost cruel. Miyeon unhooks her bra first, letting it fall to the floor—her breasts bounce free, full and perky, nipples already hard in the cool air. She shimmies out of her black panties next, kicking them aside, and she’s stark naked now, all smooth skin and curves, thick in the right places. Sana follows, quieter, her fingers fumbling with her bra clasp until it snaps open—her breasts are smaller, softer, but perfect, her nipples a faint pink that matches her blush. She slides her panties down her legs, stepping out delicately, and when they’re both bare in front of you, it’s like every dirty dream you’ve ever had coming to life.

Miyeon twirls once, playful but deliberate, her ass jiggling just enough to make your mouth dry. “What do you think?” she asks, hands on her hips, her voice dripping with that cocky flirtation she’s mastered. Sana spins too, a little clumsier, her hair swinging as she laughs through her nerves.

“Fuck,” you say, the word slipping out before you can stop it. “You’re the hottest girls I’ve ever seen. No contest.”

They grin—Miyeon smug, Sana shy—and climb onto the bed. The mattress dips under their weight, the sheets rustling as Sana lies back, stretching out on her back, her head resting on the pillows. Her legs part slightly, not blatant but enough to draw your eye, her body a soft, inviting curve against the dark fabric. Miyeon slides in beside her, propping herself up on one elbow, her naked body pressed close to Sana’s—her hand rests on Sana’s stomach, casual but possessive, her fingers splaying out like she’s staking a claim.

The rain’s still hammering outside, a dull roar that only amps up the tension in here. You’re sitting at the foot of the bed, cock still hard and slick from their mouths, and the way they’re looking at you—Sana’s nervous excitement, Miyeon’s hungry confidence—it’s like they’re pulling you in without even moving.

You’re kneeling between Sana’s legs now, her thighs soft and trembling under your hands, her skin flushed pink from the booze and the buildup. She’s sprawled out beneath you, her chest rising and falling fast, her eyes locked on yours—wide, nervous, but burning with want.

You pause, reality cutting through the haze for a second, and clear your throat. “Uh, shit—girls, I don’t have a condom,” you say, voice rough, a little sheepish. “Wasn’t exactly planning on… this when I booked the lake house.”

Miyeon smirks, unfazed, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Sana’s skin. “It’s fine,” she says, her tone smooth, deliberate. “She needs to feel you—like, really feel you. No rubber bullshit. Right, babe?” She glances at Sana, squeezing her breast gently, her thumb brushing over a nipple that’s already pebbled and sensitive.

Sana bites her lip, her breath hitching, but she nods—small at first, then firmer. “Yeah… I want that,” she whispers, her voice shaky but sure, her eyes flicking down to where your cock’s resting against her thigh, hard and leaking. “I’ve never… you know. I wanna know what it’s like.”

You swallow hard, the weight of it hitting you—Sana’s first time with a guy, and it’s you, bare, with Miyeon watching, guiding. It’s a fucking rush, equal parts thrilling and insane. “Alright,” you say, voice low, steadying yourself. “I’ll go slow. Promise.”

Miyeon leans in, her lips brushing Sana’s in a kiss that’s soft but deep, all tongue and tenderness, her hand kneading Sana’s breast harder now, rolling the nipple between her fingers. Sana moans into it, her body arching slightly, and you take that as your cue. You shift, lining yourself up, the tip of your cock brushing her entrance—she’s soaked, slick from everything before, her folds glistening in the dim light. You press forward just enough to part her, the head nudging inside, and Sana gasps, her mouth breaking away from Miyeon’s, her hands clutching the sheets.

“Fuck,” she breathes, her eyes squeezing shut for a second, then fluttering open to look at you. It’s tight—hot, wet and tight as hell—and you freeze, letting her adjust, feeling her walls clench around you like they’re figuring you out.

“Slow,” Miyeon murmurs, her voice a soft command, her eyes flicking to yours. “Don’t hurt her, okay? She’s my girl.” There’s that edge of possession in her tone, but it’s laced with something romantic, something deep—she’s sharing Sana with you, but it’s all love, all care, and it’s fucking hot how she balances both.

“I got her,” you say, your hands sliding to Sana’s hips, gripping her gently, keeping her steady. “You good?” you ask, checking in, your voice tight with how bad you want to move.

Sana nods, her lips parting. “Yeah… keep going.”

You ease in, slow as fuck, inch by inch, watching her face—her brows furrow a little, her mouth opens wider, and then she sighs, a long, shaky sound that’s pure relief mixed with want. She’s so tight it’s unreal, her heat wrapping you, pulling you in, and you’re halfway there when she tenses, her thighs squeezing your hips. You stop, breathing hard, your fingers digging into her skin just enough to hold her still.

“Tell me when,” you say, your control hanging by a thread, the way Miyeon’s watching you both—eyes dark, lips wet—only making it worse.

Sana exhales, nodding again. “Now… more.”

You push deeper, careful but steady, until you’re all the way in, buried to the hilt, her walls fluttering around you like a fucking heartbeat. She’s full of you now, and you can feel it—every twitch, every pulse—and it’s driving you nuts. Sana’s head tips back, a low moan slipping out, and Miyeon’s right there, kissing her neck, whispering something soft you can’t catch, her hand still working Sana’s breast like she’s coaxing her through it.

“Goddamn,” you mutter, your voice breaking, because this—Miyeon giving her girl to you, Sana taking you raw, the love and the lust all twisted up—is some next-level shit. “You feel… fuck, unreal.”

Miyeon smirks at you, her hand sliding down Sana’s stomach now, teasing just above where you’re connected. “She’s perfect, right?” she says, then leans into Sana’s ear. “You like him inside you, babe?”

Sana whimpers, nodding fast. “Yeah… so much,” she breathes, her hips shifting like she’s testing the feel of you, and that’s all it takes—you start moving, slow pulls back, gentle thrusts in, letting her get used to it. Her moans are quiet at first, little gasps and sighs, but they build fast, her body responding, her legs spreading wider.

Miyeon’s eyes are on you now, hot and approving. “Faster,” she says, her voice cutting through the haze. “She can take it. Give it to her harder.”

You hesitate for a second, checking Sana’s face—she’s nodding, her hands reaching for your arms, pulling you closer—so you pick up the pace, thrusting deeper, the bed creaking under you. Sana’s moans turn sharp, her nails digging into your forearms, and Miyeon’s right there, kissing her through it, her hand slipping between Sana’s legs, fingers brushing her clit to push her higher.

“Fuck, yes,” Sana gasps, her voice trembling, her walls clenching tighter around you with every stroke. “Don’t stop.”

You don’t—can’t—your hips snapping harder now, the wet sound of skin on skin mixing with the rain outside, filthy and raw. Miyeon’s watching you like you’re putting on a show just for her, her lips parted, her breathing ragged, and it’s that—her gaze, Sana’s tight heat, the whole damn scene—that’s got you teetering on the edge already, every thrust pulling you deeper into the madness of it.

You’re buried deep in Sana, your hips driving into her with a steady, hard rhythm that’s got the headboard tapping the wall like a metronome. Her moans are loud now—sharp, desperate little cries that fill the room, her thin frame trembling beneath you. She’s so tight it’s unreal, her walls gripping you like a vise, slick and hot, pulling you in deeper with every thrust. You’ve got her legs spread wide, one hand hooked under her knee, holding her open, the other braced on the mattress as you lean into her.

Miyeon’s right there beside her, naked and sprawled out, her hand slipping between her own thighs. She’s touching herself, slow at first, her fingers circling her clit as she watches you fuck her girlfriend. Her eyes are half-lidded, lips parted, her breathing ragged—she’s so turned on it’s obscene, and she doesn’t hold back with the dirty talk. “Fuck, babe,” she says, her voice husky, glancing at Sana. “Is his cock better than my strap? Tell me.”

Sana’s head jerks back, a loud moan ripping from her throat as you hit a deep spot. “Yes—fuck, yes,” she gasps, her nails clawing at your arms, leaving little crescent marks. “So much better… it’s so fucking good.”

That’s like rocket fuel to you. You grin, sweat beading down your forehead, and double down, your thrusts picking up speed, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the room. Miyeon’s fingers move faster too, her other hand gripping the sheets as she watches, her pride flaring up. “Hear that?” she says, locking eyes with you, her voice dripping with heat. “You loving this? Fucking my girl senseless?”

“Shit, yeah,” you groan, your breath ragged, your cock throbbing inside Sana’s tight heat. “She’s so fucking tight, Miyeon. Like—Jesus, I can barely think straight.”

Miyeon smirks, smug and horny all at once, her fingers plunging into herself now, matching your pace. “Proud of her,” she purrs, her gaze flicking between your face and where you’re disappearing into Sana. “Bet you’d kill to feel that pussy all the time, huh? So hot, so tight, those sweet little moans—she’s a goddamn dream, right?”

You can’t even form words, just a low, needy moan that’s half-agreement, half-losing-your-shit. Sana’s whimpering now, her body rocking with every thrust, her skinny frame so delicate you can see the faint bulge of your cock stretching her out, pressing against her flat stomach. Miyeon’s mesmerized by it, her eyes glued to the sight, her own moans mixing with Sana’s as she fucks herself harder.

“Ruin her,” Miyeon says suddenly, her voice sharp, commanding, her fingers slick and fast. “Fucking pound that tight little pussy. She can take it.”

You go all out, pounding into Sana now, her skinny frame jolting beneath you with every thrust, her legs splayed wide—knees hooked over your arms, her pussy open and vulnerable, taking you deep. She’s a mess, her brown hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, her cheeks flushed a wild, desperate pink. Her moans are loud, unrestrained, spilling out in sharp bursts that cut through the steady slap of your hips against hers. You’ve got her pinned, driving hard, her tight little pussy gripping you like it’s trying to strangle your cock—hot, wet, and pulsing with every slam, and her walls are clenching tighter now, her breath hitching, and you can feel it—she’s teetering right on the edge, her body trembling like a live wire about to snap.

“Fuck—fuck, your cock,” Sana gasps, her voice breaking into a raw, filthy moan, her hands clawing at the sheets, ripping at them like she’s losing her goddamn mind. “It’s so fucking good—shit, I love it, I love your cock so much!” Her hips buck up to meet you, sloppy and wild, chasing the friction, her pussy soaking you, dripping down your thighs. She’s unhinged, her words tumbling out fast and dirty, no filter, just pure need. “Harder—fuck me harder, don’t stop, I need it, I fucking need it!”

You growl, the sound ripping from your chest, and give her what she wants—slamming into her with everything you’ve got, your cock stretching her out, hitting that deep, sweet spot that makes her scream. Her whole body locks up, her skinny frame arching off the bed, her tits bouncing with every brutal thrust. “Like that?” you snarl, gripping her hips so hard your fingers leave red marks, pulling her back onto you. “Fucking take it—cum all over this dick, Sana.”

Miyeon’s moaning now, her fingers plunging into her own pussy, her other hand tweaking her nipple as she watches, her voice a low, horny rasp. “Goddamn, babe—look at you,” she says, her eyes glued to where your cock’s disappearing into Sana’s dripping cunt. “You’re losing it—fucking love that cock, don’t you? So hot, so fucking slutty like this.” She’s panting, her thighs trembling as she fucks herself faster, turned on beyond reason by Sana’s unraveling. “Cum for him—fucking soak that dick, I wanna see it.”

Sana’s eyes roll back, her mouth open in a silent scream that turns into a loud, broken wail as the orgasm hits her like a goddamn freight train. “Fuck—oh fuck, I’m cumming!” she cries, her voice shattering, her pussy clamping down so hard around you it’s almost painful—spasming wildly, gushing wet heat that slicks your cock, her thighs, the sheets. She’s thrashing now, completely out of control, her skinny body jerking like she’s possessed, her hands flying to your arms, nails digging in deep enough to draw blood. “Your cock—shit, I love it, it’s so big, so fucking deep—don’t stop, don’t fucking stop!”

You don’t—can’t—your hips slamming into her harder, faster, riding her through it as her pussy milks you, her cum dripping down your balls, pooling under her ass. She’s screaming, incoherent now—just raw, animal sounds, her head thrashing side to side, her hair sticking to her face. “Yes—fuck yes, keep fucking me—love it, love your cock—fuck!” Her voice is a mess, slurring into sobs, her body shaking uncontrollably, her orgasm stretching out, relentless, like it’s tearing her apart.

Miyeon’s losing her mind watching it, her hand a blur between her legs, her moans turning sharp and desperate. “Holy shit—look at her,” she gasps, her voice thick with lust, her pussy dripping onto the sheets as she rubs herself raw. “She’s cumming so fucking hard—so goddamn sexy, babe, you’re a fucking mess on that dick.” She’s panting, her eyes flicking between Sana’s wrecked face and the bulge of your cock stretching her girlfriend’s flat stomach with every thrust. “Keep going—fuck her stupid, she loves it, look at her fucking cum!”

Sana’s still going, her pussy pulsing like a heartbeat, her moans turning into whimpers as the pleasure overloads her—sensitive, raw, but she’s still pushing back against you, greedy for more. “Please—shit, please, keep fucking me,” she begs, her voice hoarse, trembling, her hands reaching for you like she’s drowning. “Your cock’s so good—so fucking good—I can’t stop cumming!”

You growl again, leaning over her, your chest heaving as you keep up the pace, your cock throbbing inside her, the wet, filthy sound of her pussy taking you over and over driving you wild. “You’re a fucking addict,” you mutter, your voice rough, dripping with heat. “Love this dick so much—cum again, Sana, let me feel that tight little pussy lose it.”

Miyeon’s moaning louder now, her fingers plunging deep, her hips bucking against her own hand. “She’s so fucking hot,” she says, her voice cracking, her eyes wide and wild. “Look at her—cumming like a slut on your cock. Fuck, I’m gonna cum just watching this—keep fucking her, make her scream!”

Sana’s beyond words now—just gasps and cries, her body convulsing, her pussy still spasming around you as the orgasm drags on, relentless, her cum soaking everything—your cock, your hips, the bed. She’s shaking so hard her thighs are quivering, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts, her eyes squeezed shut as she rides the last waves. “Fuck—fuck, I love it,” she whimpers, her voice barely audible, wrecked and raw. “Your cock—shit, it’s everything.”

You slow down, just enough to let her breathe, but you’re still buried deep, her pussy twitching around you, sensitive as hell. Miyeon’s panting, her hand slowing as she watches Sana come down, her own chest heaving. “Jesus Christ,” she mutters, licking her lips, her fingers still slick with her own arousal. “That was fucking insane—she’s never cum like that. You’re a goddamn beast.”

Sana’s eyes flutter open, glassy and dazed, a weak smile tugging at her lips as she looks up at you. “Fuck… that was…” She can’t finish, just shakes her head, her breath still shaky, her body limp beneath you. You pull out slow, your cock slick with her, and she whimpers at the loss, her pussy glistening, fucked-out and dripping with her cum. Miyeon’s still staring, horny and proud, her girlfriend a beautiful, shattered mess—and it’s all because of you.

Then, before you can react, Miyeon’s on you in a heartbeat, her hand wrapping around your shaft, stroking it as she leans in close. “Messy boy,” she teases, then lowers her mouth, licking you clean—long, slow swipes of her tongue that taste Sana all over you. She sucks the tip for a second, pulling a groan from your throat, before pulling back with a wet pop, her lips shiny.

You reach over, giving Miyeon’s ass a firm squeeze—round, perfect, begging for attention. “Your turn now,” you say, voice rough, still riding the high of fucking Sana senseless.

Miyeon grins, wicked and eager, and pushes you back onto the bed with a shove to your chest. You hit the mattress flat on your back, the sheets cool against your skin, your cock standing up hard and ready. “Lie down for me,” she says, climbing over you, her knees straddling your hips. She’s all curves and heat, her pussy already glistening as she hovers above you. Then she turns to Sana, who’s still catching her breath, propped up on her elbows. “Sit on his face, babe,” Miyeon says, her tone playful but firm. “He needs to taste you too—it’s fucking addictive.”

Sana hesitates for a second, still dazed, but the idea lights something in her eyes. She crawls up the bed, her slim frame moving slow, deliberate, until she’s kneeling over your head. You look up, and it’s a goddamn sight—her pussy right there, pink and wet from her orgasm, her thighs trembling just slightly as she lowers herself. “You sure?” she murmurs, glancing down at you, her voice soft but thick with want.

“Fuck yes,” you say, grabbing her hips and pulling her down. Her scent hits you first—sweet, musky, heady as hell—and then she’s on you, her folds slick against your lips. You groan into her, your tongue flicking out, tasting her—salty and tangy and so fucking good. She gasps, her hands bracing against the headboard, her body rocking slightly as you lick into her, slow and deep, savoring every inch.

Miyeon’s not waiting around. She lines herself up over your cock, her hands on your chest for balance, and sinks down—slow at first, just the tip, her pussy hot and tight around you. “Oh, fuck,” she moans, her head tipping back, her hair spilling over her shoulders as she takes you deeper, inch by inch. She’s thicker than Sana, her walls plush and soaking, and when she’s fully seated, her ass flush against your thighs, you’re gone—lost in the dual sensation of Miyeon riding you and Sana on your face.

“God, you’re big,” Miyeon says, her voice breathy, her hips rolling once, testing the stretch. “Feels so fucking good.”

Sana’s whimpering above you, her thighs clenching around your head as you suck on her clit, your tongue circling, then plunging inside her again. “Don’t stop,” she breathes, her voice trembling. “Please, don’t fucking stop.”

Miyeon starts moving, her hips lifting and dropping, slow at first, then faster, her hands digging into your chest. “Look at her,” she pants, glancing up at Sana. “She’s losing her mind up there. You like his tongue, babe?”

“Fuck—yes,” Sana chokes out, her hips grinding down now, smearing her wetness across your face. “So good… didn’t know it’d be this good.”

You groan into Sana, the vibration making her buck, and Miyeon laughs, low and dirty. “I knew,” she says, picking up the pace, her pussy slamming down on you harder now, wet and messy. “He’s a fucking natural.”

The room’s a mix of filth—Sana’s moans, Miyeon’s gasps, the slick sounds of skin and sex, all layered over the rain’s dull roar. You’re drowning in it—Sana’s taste flooding your mouth, Miyeon’s tight heat swallowing your cock, the insane push-pull of giving and taking. Your hands grip Sana’s hips harder, guiding her as you eat her out, your tongue relentless, and Miyeon’s riding you like she owns you, her nails leaving red trails on your skin.

“Fuck—don’t stop,” she gasps, then she shifts her gaze, looking up at Miyeon, and her voice turns filthy, wilder than you’ve heard all night. “God, babe, you look so fucking hot riding his cock like that. Bouncing on him—shit, it’s driving me crazy.”

Miyeon groans, her pace faltering for a second as Sana’s words hit her like a spark. She glances down, her dark hair swinging over her face, her lips curling into a horny smirk. “Yeah? You’re so fucking sexy like this, Sana—spread out, moaning on his face. Never seen you this slutty before.” Her hands slide up her own body, squeezing her tits through the motion, her nipples hard and poking against her palms.

Sana whimpers, her hips bucking against your mouth, and fires back, “You’re one to talk—look at you, fucking him like a pro. So hot, babe. Love watching you take that dick.”

The dirty talk’s like gasoline on a fire—Miyeon’s pussy clenches tighter around you, her thrusts turning sharper, more desperate, and you groan into Sana, the vibration making her jolt. “Keep sucking her,” Miyeon says, her voice rough, commanding, her eyes locked on yours through the haze. “Make her cum again. I wanna see her lose it.”

Sana’s already sensitive as hell—her last orgasm left her shaky, her clit throbbing under your tongue—but you don’t let up. You flatten your tongue against her, dragging it up slow, then circling fast, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. “Fuck—too much,” she whines, but her hips keep grinding, chasing it anyway, her body begging for more. You’re so caught up in it—Sana’s wet heat on your face, Miyeon’s tight grip riding you—that your own control’s slipping, your cock pulsing hard inside her with every filthy word they trade.

“Goddamn, you’re gonna make me cum just talking like that,” Miyeon moans, her hands gripping your thighs now, slamming down harder, her ass jiggling with every impact, her pussy’s dripping, soaking your hips. “Keep going, babe,” she tells Sana, her voice dripping with lust. “Tell me how much you love this.”

Sana’s panting, her words slurring into gasps as you push her closer. “Love it—fuck, love watching you ride him. So good… so fucking good,” she manages, her voice breaking as you suck her clit between your lips, flicking your tongue over it fast and relentless. Her thighs clamp around your head, her moans turning into sharp little screams, and you can feel it—she’s right there.

“Cum on his face,” Miyeon growls, her hips snapping down harder, her own breath hitching as she watches Sana unravel. “Fucking soak him.”

Sana loses it—her second orgasm crashes through her, her body seizing up as she cries out, high and raw. You keep your mouth on her, licking her through it, and then she’s shaking, her pussy pulsing hard against your tongue. She shifts, desperate now, and rubs herself over your face, her hand flying between her legs to work her clit faster. Then—holy shit—she squirts, little bursts of wet heat splashing across your chest, your neck, dripping down your jaw. It’s messy, wild, and you lap up what you can, groaning into her as she collapses forward, gasping for air.

“Holy fuck,” Miyeon says, slowing her ride for a second to watch, her eyes wide, her pussy clenching around you like she’s about to blow too. “That was insane. Now I need a taste.” She slides off you, your cock springing free, slick and throbbing, and you’re still catching your breath as she takes charge.

“69,” Miyeon says, decisive, pointing at the bed. “Sana, lie down—head at the edge. Let’s switch this up.”

Sana’s still dazed, her legs wobbly, but she does it—crawling onto the bed, stretching out on her back, her head hanging just off the mattress’ edge, her brown hair spilling down like a curtain. She’s panting, her skin glistening with sweat, her pussy still twitching from her release. Miyeon climbs over her, positioning herself on all fours—her knees bracketing Sana’s head, her ass sticking out toward you, round and perfect, her own pussy glistening and begging for attention.

You’re off the bed now, standing at the edge, your cock hard and slick with both of them, the room spinning with how fucking intense this is. Miyeon looks back at you over her shoulder, her eyes dark and commanding. “Fuck me,” she says, simple and raw, wiggling her ass just enough to make it clear what she wants. “And Sana’s gonna eat me out while you do it.”

Sana’s hands reach up, grabbing Miyeon’s thighs, pulling her down closer to her mouth, and you can hear the soft, wet sound of her tongue already working—Miyeon moans instantly, her body arching. You step up, gripping Miyeon’s hips, your cock brushing against her entrance, and the scene in front of you—Sana’s face buried between Miyeon’s legs, Miyeon’s ass up and waiting—is so filthy, so perfect, you can barely process it. The rain’s a distant hum, the world narrowed down to this bed, these girls, this moment.

And before you know it, you're already inside her

Your hands grab Miyeon’s cheeks, spreading them wide as you watch your cock slide in and out of her—glistening, thick, stretching her tight little hole with every thrust. Her pussy’s hypnotic, a vise of heat and wet that sucks you in deeper each time, her walls pulsing like they’re trying to milk you dry. She’s on all fours over Sana, her knees sinking into the mattress, her ass high and perfect, swaying with every pounding you give her.

Below, Sana’s lying flat, her head tilted off the edge, her slim throat exposed as she devours Miyeon’s pussy. Her tongue’s working hard, flicking over Miyeon’s clit, dipping into her folds, and you can hear the sloppy, wet noises—Sana’s eager, relentless, her mouth making these little sucking sounds that drive Miyeon wild. Miyeon’s trying to keep up, her face buried between Sana’s thighs, licking and sucking in return, but it’s a mess—she’s too fucked-out to focus, her moans vibrating against Sana’s skin every time you slam into her. Her dark hair’s plastered to her back with sweat, strands sticking to her neck, and her body’s trembling, caught between the dual assault of your cock and Sana’s tongue.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” you groan, your voice rough, hands digging into Miyeon’s flesh as you pull her back onto you, watching the way her pussy swallows your dick whole. “This shit’s unreal—look at you, taking it like a champ.”

Miyeon lifts her head just enough to gasp, her voice cracking with pleasure. “Goddamn—don’t stop, don’t you fucking dare. It’s too much—shit, I’m so close.” Her words slur together, half-muffled as she dives back into Sana’s pussy, but you can tell she’s struggling to keep it together—her tongue’s sloppy now, her focus shredded by the way you’re railing her.

Sana’s moaning too, her hips twitching up against Miyeon’s mouth, her hands clawing at Miyeon’s thighs to pull her closer. “Fuck, sweetie—your pussy’s so wet,” she whimpers, her voice high and needy, muffled against Miyeon’s clit. “He’s fucking you so good—I can taste it, babe, it’s dripping all over me.”

That sends a jolt through Miyeon—she groans into Sana, her hips bucking back against you harder, like she’s begging for more. “You like that, huh?” you say, smirking, spreading her wider, thrusting deeper until you’re hitting that spot that makes her whole body jolt. “Love hearing your girl talk dirty while I’m balls-deep in you?”

“Fuck—yes,” Miyeon chokes out, her ass jiggling with every slam, her voice shaking as Sana’s tongue flicks faster. “She’s—shit—she’s driving me insane down there. And you… you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

“Do it,” you growl, your grip tightening, your cock throbbing inside her as the tension builds. “Cum for me, Miyeon. Let me feel that pussy lose it.”

Sana pulls back just enough to gasp, her lips shiny with Miyeon’s juices, her eyes wide and wild. “Please, babe—cum all over his dick. I wanna taste it after, wanna lick it clean.” Her words are pure filth, her voice trembling with how horny she is, and it’s like a switch flips in Miyeon.

“Fuck—okay, I’m—fuck!” Miyeon’s voice cuts off, her body locking up, and you feel it—her pussy clamping down hard around you, spasming wildly as she hits her peak. She’s loud, screaming into Sana’s thighs, her whole frame shaking as the orgasm rips through her. You keep thrusting, riding it out with her, but it’s intense—her walls fluttering, squeezing you so tight it’s almost too much.

You pull out slow, your cock slick and dripping with her, and Miyeon’s still trembling, her ass quivering like she’s not done yet. “Sana—lube him up,” you say, voice hoarse, stepping closer to where Sana’s head hangs off the bed. Sana’s quick—she cranes her neck, her mouth open and eager, and takes you in deep. Her lips wrap around you, soft and warm, her tongue swirling as she sucks you clean, tasting Miyeon all over you. She moans around your cock, her eyes fluttering shut like it’s the best thing she’s ever had, her small hands gripping your thighs to pull you closer.

“Fuck, Sana,” you mutter, your hand tangling in her hair, guiding her as she bobs her head, sloppy and wet. “You’re so good at this—you're loving the taste of her on my cock, huh?”

She pulls off with a gasp, spit trailing from her lips to your tip, nodding fast. “Yeah—fuck, she’s so sweet. I could eat her all day, but this… this is hot as hell.” Her tongue darts out, licking you one more time, and you’re rock-hard, pulsing with need.

“Back in,” Miyeon pants, her voice raw, still on her knees over Sana. “Fuck me again—harder this time. I want it.”

You don’t hesitate. You step back behind her, grabbing her hips, spreading her ass again as you line up and thrust in—one smooth, deep push that has her screaming, her voice echoing off the walls. “Fuck—yes!” she cries, her hands fisting the sheets, her pussy still sensitive but greedy, sucking you in like it can’t get enough. You go hard, pounding into her with a force that makes her whole body shake, her ass bouncing with every brutal thrust.

“Take it—fucking take it,” you growl, slapping her ass sharp, the crack of skin on skin cutting through the room. The sting makes her yelp, her pussy clenching tighter, and you feel the heat building in your gut, the pressure coiling fast. “Cum again, Miyeon—cum for us.”

Sana’s still under her, her tongue working Miyeon’s clit in frantic little circles, and she’s begging now, her voice high and desperate. “Please, babe—cum again. I need it—need to feel you lose it on him. Cum all over that fat dick.”

Miyeon’s a wreck, her head thrashing, her moans turning into sobs as the pleasure overloads her. “Fuck—Sana—you’re—shit, I can’t—” She breaks, her pussy spasming hard around you again, wet and wild, her second orgasm hitting like a storm. She screams, her ass pushing back against you, and it’s too fucking much—her tightness, Sana’s filthy pleas, the whole damn scene.

“Gonna cum,” you moan, your voice breaking, your thrusts turning erratic as the pleasure blinds you. “Fuck—Miyeon, you’re too good—gonna blow.”

Sana’s quick, her head twisting up from under Miyeon. “I want it,” she says, breathless, her eyes glinting with something feral. “Wanna taste your cum—first time, fuck, give it to me.”

Miyeon’s slutty side flares—she’s still shaking, still clenching you, but she grins through it. “Yeah—give it to her,” she pants, her voice thick with lust. “She’s begging so nice, huh? Fucking coat her with it.”

That does it. You’re at the edge, your cock throbbing, and you pull out fast, one hand stroking yourself hard, the other gripping Miyeon’s ass for balance. “Fuck—here it comes,” you groan, aiming the tip at Miyeon’s pussy—still wet, warm, pulsing from her orgasm. You rub it against her entrance, slick, red and swollen from the pounding you gave her, and then you’re there—cumming, thick and hot, spilling over Miyeon’s entrance in heavy ropes—white streaks painting her folds, dripping down her slit, pooling in the creases where her pussy meets her thighs. It’s a fucking load, more than you expected, a messy testament to how long it’s been, and it smears across her skin, glossy and obscene in the dim light.

“Sana, now,” you rasp, voice hoarse, your chest heaving as the last of it drips from your tip. “Taste it.”

Miyeon’s still in position, her ass up, her pussy hovering over Sana’s face—she shifts her hips down closer, eager, her breath hitching with a horny little whimper. “Fuck, babe, go for it,” she urges, her voice thick with lust, her fingers digging into Sana’s thighs to hold her steady. “Lick it up—his cum’s all over me. Tell me how it feels.”

Sana’s beneath her, her slim frame pinned to the bed, her head tilted back off the edge—her brown hair a wild spill, her lips parted and trembling. She’s never done this before, never tasted a guy’s cum, and you can see it in her eyes—nervous excitement, a raw curiosity burning behind the flush on her cheeks. Her tongue darts out first, tentative, a soft little flick against Miyeon’s inner thigh where a bead of your cum’s trickled down. She pauses, tasting it—salty, bitter, warm on her tongue—and her breath catches, a tiny gasp slipping out.

“More,” Miyeon coaxes, lowering herself further, her pussy brushing Sana’s lips now, your cum streaking across her mouth. “Get it all, babe. I want you to feel him.”

Sana dives in, bolder now, her tongue sweeping up Miyeon’s slit in a slow, deliberate stroke—dragging through the sticky mess of your cum, thick and creamy, mixed with Miyeon’s own slickness. She moans, low and shaky, the sound vibrating against Miyeon’s pussy, and it’s like she’s tasting something forbidden—something filthy and new that’s lighting her up inside. Her lips close around Miyeon’s folds, sucking gently, pulling your cum into her mouth, and her eyes flutter shut, lost in it. It’s raw, messy—her chin’s wet with it now, smears of white clinging to her skin, and she’s licking harder, deeper, chasing every drop.

“Fuck, yes,” Miyeon groans, her hips rocking down, grinding herself against Sana’s tongue. She’s horny as hell, her voice dripping with it—proud and turned on, watching her girlfriend taste you off her wrecked cunt. “How is it, babe? How’s his cum taste? Tell me.”

Sana pulls back just enough to speak, her voice muffled, lips glossy and dripping—a mix of your cum and Miyeon’s juices shining on her like some lewd, natural gloss. “It’s—fuck, it’s intense,” she says, her words slurring with arousal, her tongue flicking out again to lap at a thick streak sliding down Miyeon’s slit. “Salty… hot… kinda bitter, but—shit, I love it.” She dives back in, her tongue plunging deeper, scooping up more, her moans louder now, needy and unrestrained. She’s sucking Miyeon clean, her lips smacking softly, wet and sloppy, and it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever seen—Sana’s first taste of cum, and she’s devouring it like it’s her new favorite drug.

Miyeon’s trembling above her, her thighs quaking, her fingers tightening on Sana’s legs as Sana’s tongue works her over. “Goddamn, babe—you’re so fucking dirty,” she pants, her eyes rolling back for a second before snapping to you, wild and gleaming. “Look at her—she’s eating your cum like she’s starving. So fucking hot.” She shifts, pressing her pussy harder against Sana’s mouth, smearing more of the mess across her lips, and Sana takes it—greedy, unashamed, her tongue swirling through it all, swallowing every bit she can get.

Sana’s hands slide up, gripping Miyeon’s ass now, pulling her down tighter, her nails digging into the soft flesh. She’s moaning into Miyeon’s pussy, the sound raw and desperate, muffled by the wet heat she’s buried in. “More,” she mumbles, barely audible, her tongue lashing across Miyeon’s clit where a last streak of your cum lingers—thick and clinging. She sucks it off, slow and deliberate, her lips closing around the sensitive bud, and Miyeon jolts, a sharp cry tearing from her throat.

“Fuck—Sana,” Miyeon gasps, her voice breaking, her body shuddering as Sana’s mouth pushes her toward overstimulation. She’s still horny, still buzzing, but this moment—it’s intimate, just them now, sharing something primal. So she moves, leaving the 69 position to sit facing Sana, because she needs to see her girlfriend's delicate and lovely face covered in pure lust, in pure pleasure, her fingers tangling in Sana’s hair, gentle but firm, holding her there. “How’s it feel? First time tasting him—tell me everything.”

Sana pulls back again, just enough to breathe, her face a wreck—chin dripping, lips swollen and shiny, your cum streaked across her mouth like war paint. She licks her lips slow, deliberate, tasting the last of you, and looks up at Miyeon with this dazed, lust-drunk grin. “It’s—so fucking good,” she whispers, her voice trembling with how much she means it. “Like… I didn’t know it’d be this thick, this warm. It’s—fuck, it’s everywhere, and I can’t stop wanting it.” She leans in, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to Miyeon’s pussy, her tongue darting out one last time to swipe through the mess—your cum, her spit, Miyeon’s slick—all blending together in a filthy, perfect mix.

Miyeon moans, soft and low, her body relaxing into it now, her horny edge softening into something tender. “You’re so fucking cute,” she murmurs, her hand stroking Sana’s hair, her thumb brushing her cheek where a smear of cum still clings. “My dirty girl—loving it, huh?”

Sana nods, her eyes bright, a little shy now but glowing with satisfaction. She crawls up slow, sliding off the bed to sit up, her lips still wet and glistening—your cum and Miyeon’s juices a slick sheen across her mouth and chin. Miyeon follows, shifting to kneel in front of her, their bodies close, intimate. She cups Sana’s face, her thumbs tracing the edges of her lips, smearing the mess a little more, and leans in—kissing her deep, slow, tasting you on her tongue. It’s raw, possessive, but soft too—their mouths moving together, sharing the aftermath, a quiet hum of pleasure passing between them.

You’re slumped beside them, chest still heaving, your cock twitching with the last echoes of your orgasm as you watch—mesmerized, spent, but still buzzing from the sight. Miyeon pulls back from the kiss, a thin string of spit and cum connecting their lips for a second before it snaps, and she licks it away, grinning. “Good, right?” she whispers, her eyes flicking to Sana’s.

“So good,” Sana breathes, her smile small but real, her first taste of you lingering on her tongue—intense, erotic, a memory she’s already savoring. They lean into each other again, foreheads touching, giggling softly in the afterglow.

“Glad you liked it,” you say, voice rough, still catching your breath. “Shit, that was intense.”

Miyeon turns to you, her hand resting on your thigh, casual but warm. “You liked it too, huh? We can do this again—anytime you’re up for it. You’re, like… officially our guy now.”

Sana giggles, leaning in to kiss your cheek, her lips soft and sticky. “Yeah, you’re stuck with us. Such a good friend—taking care of me like that.”

Miyeon follows, pressing a kiss to your other cheek, her touch lingering. “Thanks, dude. For real—for being so cool with Sana. Means a lot.”

You laugh, the sound tired but content, your hand running through your hair. “Anytime. Fucking honor, honestly.”

Miyeon stretches out, her body glistening with sweat, and yawns. “Okay, post-sex vibe check—we’re done fucking, right? Let’s crash here, all of us. Naked, cozy, whatever.”

“Works for me,” you say, settling back against the pillows, the mattress dipping as Sana curls up on one side, Miyeon on the other. Their skin’s warm against yours, their breaths slowing, and the rain outside lulls the room into a quiet, sated haze. You’re all wrecked, tangled, and happy as hell—ready to sleep it off, together.

—

The morning sun filters through the blinds, casting soft, golden stripes across the tangled mess of sheets and limbs on the bed. You wake up slow, your body heavy and warm, sandwiched between two soft, naked forms—Miyeon on your left, her arm draped lazily over your chest, her breath warm against your neck; Sana on your right, her legs tangled with yours, her head nestled into your shoulder. It’s a surreal fucking moment, the kind that makes you blink and wonder if last night was a dream. But the ache in your muscles, the faint sting of scratch marks on your arms, and the raw, vivid memory of their moans tell you it was real—insanely, mind-blowingly real. You shift slightly, trying to stretch without waking them, but your morning wood’s already making itself known, tenting the sheet that’s barely clinging to your hips. Damn, even after all that, your body’s still ready to go.

Miyeon stirs first, her eyes fluttering open, still heavy with sleep, a lazy smile tugging at her lips as she spots your hard-on. “Well, good morning to you too,” she mumbles, her voice low and raspy, thick with that post-sleep huskiness that’s sexy as hell. Her hand slides down your chest, slow and teasing, fingers brushing over your stomach before wrapping around your cock. She strokes you lightly, still half-asleep, her grip loose but deliberate, like she’s just playing with you for now. “Guess you’re not tapped out yet, huh?”

You groan softly, the touch sending a jolt through you, and turn your head to see Sana blinking awake too, her brown hair a messy halo around her face. She yawns, stretching her arms above her head, her small tits peeking out from under the sheet, then glances down at Miyeon’s hand on you. A sleepy grin spreads across her face. “Seriously? Already?” she says, her voice soft but amused, scooting closer to join in. Her hand slides under the sheet too, her fingers brushing against Miyeon’s as they both stroke you now—Sana’s touch gentler, curious, Miyeon’s firmer, knowing exactly what she’s doing. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“Blame you two,” you mutter, your voice rough, still waking up, your hips twitching involuntarily as their hands work you over. “Fucking waking up like this—who wouldn’t be hard?”

Sana giggles, her fingers tightening slightly, her thumb brushing over the tip where you’re already leaking a little. “Fair point,” she says, then sits up, the sheet falling away completely, leaving her bare and glowing in the morning light. “Come on—let’s take care of that in the shower. You, me, and Miyeon. Sound good?”

Miyeon’s already rolling out of bed, her round ass bouncing as she stands, stretching with a groan that’s half-tired, half-horny. “Hell yeah,” she says, tossing her hair back, her eyes flicking to you with a smirk. “Let’s clean up—and get dirty again.”

You don’t need convincing. The three of you stumble to the bathroom, naked and laughing, the hardwood cold under your feet. The shower’s big enough for all of you—glass walls, a rainfall head that pours hot water the second you turn it on. Steam starts fogging up the space as you step in, Miyeon right behind you, Sana trailing with a shy grin. The water hits your skin, hot and perfect, and Miyeon’s already pressing herself against your back, her tits soft and slick against you, her hands sliding around to your cock again. “Turn around,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your ear, and you do, pinning her against the tiles, the water streaming down her face as you kiss her hard, all tongue and heat.

Sana’s watching, her fingers trailing down her own stomach as she steps closer, the water soaking her hair, making it stick to her shoulders. “Fuck her first,” she says, her voice low, a little daring, her eyes locked on where Miyeon’s hand is guiding you between her legs. You don’t hesitate—lifting Miyeon’s thigh, hooking it over your hip, and sliding into her in one smooth thrust. She’s still tight, still wet from last night, and she moans loud, her head tipping back against the glass, the sound echoing in the steam.

“Goddamn, you feel so good,” you groan, thrusting slow at first, watching the way her pussy takes you, the water making everything slicker, louder. Miyeon’s hands grip your shoulders, her nails biting in, and she’s grinning through the pleasure, loving it.

Sana steps in closer, her fingers brushing Miyeon’s clit as you fuck her, making Miyeon gasp sharper. “Your turn next,” you say, glancing at Sana, and she nods, biting her lip, her hand slipping lower to touch herself as she waits. You pull out of Miyeon after a few more thrusts, spinning Sana around, bending her over so her hands brace against the wall, her ass up and perfect. You slide into her from behind, her pussy tight and dripping, and she whimpers, the sound soft but needy as you start pounding into her, the water splashing around you both.

“Fuck—yes,” Sana moans, her voice shaking, her skinny frame rocking with every thrust, her head bowing as the pleasure hits. Miyeon’s right there, kissing her neck, her hands roaming over Sana’s wet skin, squeezing her tits, making it a messy, horny tangle of bodies under the spray. You fuck Sana hard, then switch back to Miyeon, trading off until you’re all panting, the shower a blur of steam, moans, and slick, wet skin. You finish fast—pulling out, stroking yourself as they kneel under the water, mouths open, catching every drop as you cum, their tongues flicking out to taste you, giggling through it like it’s a game.

After, you’re all dripping and laughing, toweling off in a haze of post-sex glow, the bathroom mirror fogged to hell. Sana’s the first out, wrapping a towel around herself and heading to the kitchen. “I’ll make breakfast,” she calls over her shoulder, her voice chipper despite the wild morning. You and Miyeon follow slower, still naked, flopping onto the couch to catch your breath, her head lolling against your shoulder.

The smell of coffee and bacon fills the house soon, and when Sana calls you over, you find her in full domestic mode—hair tied back, still in just a towel, flipping pancakes like she’s auditioning for a cooking show. She’s good, too—golden, fluffy stacks piling up on a plate, bacon sizzling crisp on the side, scrambled eggs fluffy and perfect. You all sit around the small kitchen table, naked under loosely draped towels, digging in like it’s the most normal thing in the world. The pancakes are sweet, dripping with syrup, the bacon’s salty crunch a perfect balance, and the coffee’s strong, cutting through the morning fog. It’s quiet for a bit, just the clink of forks and the occasional hum of satisfaction, everyone still waking up, still processing the insanity of last night and this morning.

Miyeon’s the one to break the silence, grabbing her phone from the counter mid-bite, syrup glistening on her lips. “Oh, shit,” she says, scrolling quick, her eyes lighting up. “Road’s fixed—traffic’s moving again. Guess the landslide’s cleared.”

You take a sip of coffee, the mug warm in your hands, and nod, glancing between them. “Guess that’s my cue, huh? It was a pleasure meeting you girls. Really.”

They both freeze, forks halfway to their mouths, then look at each other—Sana’s brows shoot up, Miyeon’s lips twitch—and they burst out laughing, loud and sudden, like you’ve just said the dumbest thing imaginable. “What?” you say, caught off guard, setting the mug down. “What’s so funny?”

Miyeon leans forward, still chuckling, wiping a tear from her eye. “Dude, no way. After last night? And this morning? We’re not going anywhere.”

Sana nods, her grin wide and bright, pushing a piece of bacon around her plate. “Yeah, like—we had so much fun. Leaving now would be stupid. We wanna stay the week with you.”

You blink, stunned, the words sinking in slow. “Wait—for real? The whole week?”

“Uh-huh,” Miyeon says, leaning back in her chair, stretching so the towel slips a little, showing off the curve of her chest. “This place just got a million times better with you here. You’re a fucking gem, dude—we’re not letting that go.”

Sana’s still smiling, softer now, her eyes warm as she looks at you. “It’s already special, you know? Memorable as hell. And it’s only been, what, a day? Imagine the rest of the week.”

You laugh, shaking your head, still processing. “Shit, I mean—I’d love that. Didn’t expect you’d wanna stick around, but hell yeah, I’m in.”

“Good,” Miyeon says, pointing her fork at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re a great find—fun, chill, and you fuck like a goddamn champ. We like having you as a friend.”

Sana nods, popping a piece of pancake in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Yeah, you’re open-minded—know how to roll with it, enjoy shit without being a dick about it. And you’re respectful, which is huge. I mean, last night was wild, and you never made it weird.”

You grin, leaning back, the warmth of the coffee and their words settling in your chest. “You two are fucking unreal—the coolest couple I’ve ever met, hands down. I’m stoked you crashed into my trip like this.”

Miyeon laughs, finishing her bacon with a satisfied crunch. “Settled then—no one’s leaving. This lake house just became our little sex-and-breakfast paradise, and you’re stuck with us.”

“Couldn’t ask for better company,” you say, raising your mug in a mock toast, and they clink their coffee cups against it, laughing through the syrup-sticky mess. The road’s open, sure, but fuck going anywhere—this week’s already gold, and it’s only just started.

[prael]

A Bargain To Remember

Kinktember Day 13: Car sex

(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut

words: 4,950 Kinktember Masterlist

"Finally, a face to the name."

You know all about Miyeon, of course. She's the type of girl whose face is plastered on every screen and every street in every corner of the galaxy, a darling of the interplanetary conglomerates. From the spaceports to even the most downtrodden of back-alleys, you can probably find her face on some poster or flyer or some massive digital billboard high above you—those corporate powers that be sure want to squeeze as much out of her as possible.

The surprise is that she knows you.

Of course, it's on those screens, or the ones at home, or the ones in their pockets, that most people become acquainted with a girl like Miyeon. Those glossy eyes, her effervescent smile, her delicate but fierce features, of course, they leave an impression. They sell you dreams, products and promises. That's why you can find her all over the place—but the versions of her you can interact with— ones to purchase and enjoy—are another beast altogether.

"Can I help you, miss?" you feign ignorance of her identity as she takes the chair at the other end of your desk.

"I would like to make a purchase."

"A purchase? From me? What could I possibly offer to someone like you? I sell scrap electronics to junkies and fix the broken implants of low-life thugs. How could that possibly interest you?"

She crosses her legs, and says, "Don't play with me. I have seen your work, quite the artist you are, though I wouldn't say you exactly have my mannerisms down. The curve of my mouth, the cadence of my voice—not exactly up to par with the real deal. But as fakes go, you do well with what you have."

You scratch at the back of your head and then catch a bead of sweat forming at your temple, "Think you have the wrong guy, miss. You're talking AI and Virts here. Not my thing, definitely not my forte."

She's quiet as you look around at anything but her face. The grey concrete walls and steel beam of the roof are awfully fascinating suddenly, and then the holos playing on loop above the screens of your makeshift booth—really anything than to have to admit that your life's work consists of making and selling forgeries of people like her. She knows why she's here—the least you could do is be brave and admit to your craft.

"I tried your work myself. Quite the experience. Can't say I ever planned on fucking myself—but well, there's a first time for everything I guess."

There's enough power across your desk to not only shut you down and make it so the only tech you would ever touch again is a pair of electrified cuffs at best, and at worst she could have you put down and silently disposed.

Miyeon continues, "As I say, it wasn't entirely accurate, I'm not actually that loud or aggressive, for the record. But it was fun, so if you're thinking I'm about to expose you, not the case—I'm actually here to invest in your skill. Your art is fun, and I dare say your tastes in women, are spot on."

You let out a small nervous laugh and then say, "I don't usually take requests."

Her pink-painted lips, the gloss shimmering slightly from the bright fluorescent overhead light, form into a delicate, mischievous grin. "I'm willing to make you an offer, one you won't refuse. You get me what I want, and I'll license your work. Think about it. An official Miyeon VirtueX™, think of how lucrative an asset that could be. The whole galaxy's lining up to get a taste—and you would be the only real supply."

You lean forward in your chair to peer at her and ask, "Let's say I was who you think I am, what is it that you want from me?"

"What I want from you," she pauses and tilts her head, her eyes glance across your features briefly and her tongue traces the edges of her teeth. "Is to show me the past." She places a drive on the desk—old-tech, the kind that would never run on any kind of systems that are sold today. "You can get this working, right?"

"Is that a government stamp?" You point to the symbol on the drive. "I plug that in and I'll have execution squads here in under a minute."

"It's all above board. Officially disposed and untracked. I just need to live it, once." Her voice is quiet and pensive.

"Alright. Deal. But those two lumps of metal you call bodyguards have to stay out there, and you're coming through to my studio. If I'm gonna help, you have to play by my rules."

She flashes you a winning smile. You thought you had her pegged down but all this has proved you wrong—there was more to Miyeon than the flashy clothes and the blinding lights, a lot more. And your curiosity is getting the better of you now.

"You know, you're only the third person to ever step in here," you open up the secret passage into the back room, and gesture for Miyeon to step in.

You close the door behind you both and feel the heavy metal slide lock with a hiss.

"The first was me, naturally, and the second left it in a body bag a few years ago."

She doesn't flinch, just brushes past you and sits on the edge of your desk, running a finger along the steel as if surveying the conditions of your equipment. "Hard to imagine you make the stuff you do from a place like this," she says.

"The drive," you say as you hold out a hand.

She passes it over and you examine the shape and material. Most drives these days are designed to interface with neural implant ports or organic docks directly—this is true vintage work. It might have been what some would have called groundbreaking tech a hundred or so years ago. You hook the little device up to your primary work machine and start running tests.

She slides off the table, her hands resting on your shoulders. She bends down, her body pressed into yours as she murmurs near your ear. "How is it?"

"A mess. But a fixable mess. Should have something you can use soon enough."

Miyeon breathes gently in your ear before placing a hand on your arm, "Please, whatever you do, do not look at the contents. It's personal, just let me view it, and live it, one last time. Then you can lock it away again for all eternity and erase the copy from your server. And then you get exactly what you want from me."

You breathe in deeply, a mixture of her perfume and the thick oily scent of hot electronics flooding your brain. "Whatever, it's none of my business anyway. Now take a seat will you." You nod to the chair on the other side of the room.

The drive whirrs softly and a data scan runs to gather all the fragmented encryptions left behind on the device. Miyeon lies flat back on your chair and waits for you to connect her—she holds out her forearm expectantly.

"Come on then," she smiles sweetly and pulls a loose curl behind her ear.

You clamp your eyes tight and inhale. "Here goes nothing." You run the system at the push of a button and all the data you scraped compiles in a memory, one for Miyeon and Miyeon alone to relive. You walk over, drawing the connection from the chair and readying to insert it into her arm. "Connections like these, they can hurt, okay? Are you ready?"

"Do it." She's insistent.

A quick stab of your fingers later and the tiny prongs slide into the barely visible organic slot on her skin. Her head tosses violently and for the first time, there's fear on her face. But as soon as you have her connected, her eyelids begin to flutter. You sit a while, watching her as a million synapses all spark to life behind rolling eyes—whatever the moment is, she is in it. You leave her in peace and sit back at your workstation, waiting.

There's an artificial sensation of the atmosphere becoming slightly humid all around, the lights are a soft pastel blue, and the world is swathed in cotton wool. Silent. You find yourself completely frozen in time. It drags and yet somehow comes to a finish just as you're still adjusting to the quietude.

Miyeon's connection beeps and you turn around, removing the port from your system. She pulls the connection from her arm.

"So, tell me, was it worth the trip down memory lane? You get everything you wanted?" You unplug the old-school hardware and await the confirmation that all the corrupted data's safely expunged from your hard drives.

"Almost everything. But most things, in the end, never get a happy ending, do they?"

"Sounds heavy. The stuff that happened on there, pretty rough, huh."

Her pupils are dilated, the whites of her eyes flooded red. "Like you wouldn't believe." Miyeon climbs from the chair, finding her feet back in the real world after living in another for a precious few minutes. She blinks twice and there's a distinct film over her corneas.

"So that's it? My end of the bargain was fulfilled. And I get my licensed content?"

Miyeon turns and you wonder if that's a tear that's been cast down her cheek. "Sealed and guaranteed. Now let's give you some real data to work with. The right anatomical model, an authentic Miyeon behavioural pattern, every single unique vocal calibration, every erogenous spot, every subtle expression in real-time—have it all. One more condition. I have another memory, a real one in my head, if you make me relive that, you can record it and scrub every detail you need. Are we agreed?"

You nod. "Done. Sit there and we'll connect."

"You're going to manually record?"

"How do you think I get it all so accurate?" you tell her with a smug smile.

She sits and gives a nod. "If it's got to be done." You take a seat behind her, and you both reach over your shoulder to pull the neural connector into your napes and slot them in.

A brief flash of many realities as you slip into her consciousness and she welcomes you to her memory.

A calm setting, sitting in a car, you were driving and she's in the passenger seat. You're parked beside a winding hillside road and looking out over a city. A city you don't recognise. Miyeon's fingers dancing across your thigh with a suggestive gentleness, a sly smile.

"Where are we?" you ask.

"Seoul." Miyeon smiles.

"When are we?"

"2024."

"2024? That's over seventy years ago!"

She laughs. "Yeah? You wanted the real authentic Miyeon, didn't you?"

"Sure, but in 2024? That's just unbelievable. You look the same. How are you so—"

She leans close and traces a finger across the line of your jaw. She stares directly into your eyes and says, "We'll worry about the details later. Right now, you want what I've promised, and you've come this far, so you know what has to be done. We're already where we need to be."

Your senses are engulfed in an emotion and memories that are not your own. All a simulation and all a vivid and overwhelming experience. You're in love with her, that's the overriding feeling—the feeling of whoever she was really with at this time.

"This is the memory of the best sex of my life." She leans close to whisper to you. "So do try your best."

"This is just..." You don't get to finish, she's grabbed your shirt and pulled you close. She kisses you deeply. There is nothing of the daintiness or composure that you're used to, you've lost all your will and she is dragging you out of control. You find yourself consumed with an overwhelming and perplexing ecstasy and the idea of restraint or of reason seems unimportant now. You're driven purely by passion and by instinct—she has to have you and you have to have her, it's almost a compulsion. She's yanking off her seatbelt and reaching for your trousers, clawing at them desperately.

And just like that, you're scrambling at each other's clothes, almost frantic. You have the sensation of her breath across your face, the heat of her lips against your skin. Hands, everywhere. Exploring the curves of her body. A hungry desperation to peel back every layer of fabric to feel more, and more of her. She bites your bottom lip and looks at you with pleading eyes.

"I want you and I want you now." Her lips move like liquid lust and her hand like electricity, the energy tingles when she wraps her fingers around your cock and pulls it free from your pants.

She gasps and then giggles as if pleasantly surprised, a cute and kittenish squeal, she hums with her own approval of her actions.

"I'll be gentle," she whispers, her eyes shining with mischief. She rubs you from tip to base, taking the full length, slowly and teasingly over and again until the blood's pumping and you're at full salute. She's on her knees in the passenger seat and leaning over you. A smirk on her lips, she goes lower and lower still, her tongue warm and wet. Taking your crown into her mouth and enveloping you, her pace slow but sure.

Your hand in her hair, not to control or pressure, just to feel her in the moment. Encourage her, caress the back of her neck and appreciate every moment of pleasure. She takes you deep, deeper into her throat, the heat of her lungs, the power in her movements as she comes off and plunges again and again. It's effortless and instinct, and not for anything other than her own desire to please, and that itself is thrilling, you have to admit.

It's a strange new world for you to have sex without the enhancements of technology. It's so raw.

You sigh and whimper at every suckling pull, your nerve endings raw and singing. Her palms firmly pressing down onto the tops of your thighs, her movements grow slower, more sensual but she sucks harder, the vibrations from the moans of her enjoyment humming through the root of your shaft—fuck, it feels so fucking good, too good. She releases you with a slight gasp for air and a drooling line of spit.

She wipes her lips with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Outside, now." Miyeon doesn't hesitate. Her shirt pulled off and tossed into your face and she's leapt over to the rear passenger door, flinging it open wide, the warm night air rushes in to greet you, along with the sound of crickets. She slams the door shut and you open yours.

You climb out and head to meet her at the front of the car, she's already leaning against the metal hood. The car is one of those muscle cars from back at the time, a real classic ride that suits a woman like her. "Hey you," she rubs her hands against the metal as she leans forward and sprawls herself over it. "Get behind me already," her tongue dancing across her red-stained lips, her chest heaving in excitement, you're as hot and as hard as you'll ever be.

Miyeon tilts her head, watching you closely with half-opened eyes, her pretty pink tongue sticks out between her perfect teeth, and a teasing wink follows. She wiggles her hips, an inviting gesture, her skirt raised to reveal the gentle wobble of her cheeks—she doesn't have underwear, what a perfect minx she is—all bare for you.

She runs a hand down over the hem of her skirt and then raises it fully up over the top of her ass. As glorious as the very stars overhead. You have an overwhelming urge to run your hands across her bare flesh and as you take the first steps towards her, you find your arms reaching and touching and tracing every inch of skin that's exposed.

You run your hands over her cheeks, spreading them, kneading them, Miyeon's letting out soft little noises, encouraging you, inciting you—but fuck, this view... it's exquisite. It's so clear now, that all those fakes, the painstaking hours of recreation, simply did not live up to the real deal, and not just the view, everything is magnitudes superior.

You smooth your palm between her thighs and you part them, pulling her ass to the edge, sliding her legs open, watching as her wetness shines. "Just how badly do you want me?" you ask her.

"Look at me, how can you say something like that? Of course, I fucking want you. I hate having to wait. Come and fuck me."

You guide your cock to sit between her cheeks and rock into it gently, enjoying how those perky cheeks cradle your length and the way her whole body rocks with every movement. "Is it wrong that I love watching you squirm?" you ask, running the palm of your hand over the bare skin, digging your fingers in, grasping a handful and appreciating how it yields under your fingertips.

"Only wrong if I mind, and I don't," Miyeon groans, lifting her hips against you and smothering your dick in her deliciously juicy flesh. She is irresistible. "So what are you waiting for," her voice soft and suggestive. "Go on, you know you want to. You know how much I need it."

You grit your teeth and trace her lips with the tip of your cock, and it's like lightning flashing between you both. Fuck. Her lips are so wet and hot—they're so tantalisingly puffy. She wiggles and gyrates against you as you rest inside her opening. She groans and you're shuddering.

You slide the first few inches and gasp. You both moan softly together as you glide in, she's so much tighter than you had imagined she might feel—every inch that slides inside makes her clench you more.

"Yes," Miyeon is urgent and breathy, her muscles are contracting as though attempting to swallow your entire length. And she's hungry for it. "That's it baby, nice and deep," her words as electrifying as the sensation of her snug walls quivering as she clings on with greed.

"Like this?" you whisper in her ear as you lean over and pin her petite frame against the metal, letting her feel you, all of you. Every inch. And as she moans and shivers under the weight of your body. Your hands reach her shoulders and your fingertips find her neck, circling and caressing and massaging in all the right places—she turns her head as far round as she's able to gaze at you as she hums and gasps with each rolling movement of your hips.

Her teeth biting her bottom lip, her cheeks flushed pink, a complete dream in motion. Her body arches as she urges and wills herself back on you. You groan in return. Everything about her feels unreal in its perfection. She's squeezing against your cock, and her most hidden recesses begin to melt for you.

Miyeon cums like this, and it's without warning. She tenses, her eyes go wide and her mouth hangs open—her silky tunnel clamps tight as a vice grip. And the way she gushes all over you, covering you, she can barely breathe, she can barely let out a cry or a single noise, only ragged breathing as you hold her firmly in place and fuck her through it.

You fuck her without shame or inhibition. She whimpers, a feeble cry, every thrust powerful and deliberate. Miyeon moans what feels like your name and you give another forceful snap of your hips, both hands firmly on her slim and shaking waist. There are no words that can possibly encapsulate her.

"That's it," her breath erratic and shaky. She grinds her ass into you with every forward push, working into a perfect rhythm and going balls-deep with each pump. "Hard." You slam against her ass, the clapping sound of skin against skin—it fills the warm and humid air.

Miyeon cums again. So fucking easy to make her cum. Her beautiful brown eyes are desperate with desire. She shakes, she is panting, "Just like that, keep doing exactly that and I'll lose my damn mind. God, you feel so fucking big."

She's limp now, just taking rough, powerful and blissful strokes—her cries a series of hoarse grunts and weak moans.

You grab her by the waist, hard, she lets out a yelp, and then you're manhandling her, throwing her delicate figure over onto her back. There they are, those perfect little tits, grown red being forced against the metal of the car. Her soppy mess drips out from her thoroughly fucked hole.

"This, is all you wanted right?" You gather her legs and thrust them roughly up and over your shoulders, sliding easily back inside. Her pussy gushing and absolutely soaking. "A good rough fucking. You just love to be used don't you, baby. This is the side of you I've been missing, seeing how you have always been so prim and proper in front of everyone."

"That was your problem, all those homemade VirtueXs made me all commanding when I really just love to be taken." Her breaths are ragged.

"Maybe that's just how I'll be selling you in future then," you say.

She gives a throaty chuckle. "Do whatever the fuck you want, but for now," Miyeon takes a tight hold of her knees, and draws them against her chest. "Make me cum again, please."

You have her absolutely filled with every inch of cock and stretched tight with every savage drive of your hips, again, and again, and again. Sweat forms a light film over every curve and groove of her form. She's gorgeous, she's taking it, and she's loving it. "Let me feel you cum," she breathes between pumps and thrusts, her fingers kneading the flesh of her thighs as she spreads herself as open as is physically possible.

A combination of pressure and adrenaline, you're hammering deep. Miyeon is groaning and pleading. A loud moan, a series of short sharp exhales and whimpers. Those narrow hips are trembling, her slim thighs shake, toes are curled. Her orgasm and invitation for you to join her come as a surge.

You explode. Locked, sheathed so deep and full, you fill her. "Cum so much..." Miyeon sighs in awe. Your climax is euphoria.

Both a sweating, quaking mass of interlocked limbs, you pull away and your drenched cock slips out. "How are you real," you exhale. "Never felt anything like you."

"I am one of a kind." Miyeon laughs gently to herself. "Now let's get back in there and you can fuck me some more."

You're in the backseat now, Miyeon's slender body climbing all over you. She leans in and takes your lips, her sticky lip gloss and the sweet taste of her mouth as she invades with her tongue and leads yours into a frenzy. Her fingertips drag down across your chest. She's positioning herself over your cock.

The beauty of simulation is there's no recovery, only the chasing of the next orgasm, and she's keen to provide the means. She takes you with her eyes closed, a small, grateful moan and she slides herself slowly up and down. Your head arches back with a cry as she holds onto your shoulders and glides her lips down over your shaft.

"Gonna ride you," she whispers as she rocks herself in time with the rise and fall of your breaths. "Ride you until you explode again." Your fingertips squeeze into the supple curves and muscles of her torso.

It is a euphoric ecstasy. Miyeon looks perfect riding a dick. She sinks down low, grinding back and forth. She moves like waves, her hair stuck against her cheek. You take hold and move the strands out of the way, before trailing down the bare skin of her neck and to her tits, groping them firmly.

"Been so long since I last got to do this. Missed how big you are." She grasps the headrest as the speed and intensity of her motions increase. "Yeah, that's it, baby."

Her eyes flutter and her head starts to fall further and further back. Erratic, out of control, wild—she starts slamming her ass down hard. Fucked-slack and oozing, her juices dripping down. She's growing quiet and you watch her expression transform, her eyes turn glassy. You watch her face strain in her pleasure, it's a wonderful sight—pure bliss. Then she erupts into moans as her body convulses and spasms, and all you can do is hold her steady, her hole throbbing tight around you. She gasps, desperate for oxygen, every fibre and nerve singing in harmony.

From one, right into chasing the next, Miyeon lifts herself, turns, presents her ass to you and sits back on your cock. You watch it slip up between her cheeks and disappear inside her cunt once more, she hums a content sigh and leans forward. Miyeon braces herself against the window of the car, looking over her shoulder as she moves.

Her groin rocks and grinds on your shaft in a rolling motion and it's heaven itself. That cute, perky ass smacks on your groin in a sensual motion. Her hand snakes between her legs. Her moans grow in strength and volume. Wet, slippery, soft, Miyeon's fucking you and riding herself to her own orgasm. She starts to tremble. You start to tremble. She's squirming wildly, desperate for her climax, that gorgeous cunt squeezing every inch and driving you crazy.

And you lose it. Another intense explosion that makes you clasp onto her ass and hold it steady. A groan rips through your entire body, and you empty everything you have. She cums the instant she feels the heat spread through her. A unified orgasm. Pure heavenly relief. The energy seems to drift into the air and the car rattles beneath you both. It is incredible. The euphoria is otherworldly.

"Tell me that was good," she asks softly.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Again. Again. Please, one more time?"

"It's your head, sweetie. Have at it."

"Hmm, I suppose it is. Then I want to sit on you, and I want it in my ass." Miyeon giggles and slips herself off you, a mixture of your cum and hers falling down her thighs.

"Whatever the fuck you want," you groan, delirious as Miyeon pulls you up to the seat and then takes her place on your lap, she spread her legs out over yours and you take her hips, guiding her ass onto your cum-soaked cock. Everything is a fucking blur but the sensations are turned up to eleven, and there is nothing else that is comparable.

You plant kisses on her hot, sweaty back as you slide her down onto your length. She's twitching, and squirming. You hear her let out a soft gasp of delight at the invasion. The tightness, the constricting squeeze is just...

"Oh yes..." Miyeon breathes softly. "Let me... let me do the work now, let me fuck this big hard dick with my tight ass." She circles her hips, drawing on your cock with a slow, tight, merciless motion. Your world starts spinning all over again. She's slick with sweat, her cheeks grinding on your thighs, the scent and the sex drives you fucking wild. "What a perfect dick. I could do this all day."

You lean your head forward, and sink your teeth into the muscle of her shoulder—a flurry of loud moans from Miyeon as she bounces on your shaft. The sloppy sounds, the music of her pleasures, the clapping slap, it's insane and exhilarating. You lick her sweat from her flesh, tasting her.

She's slick and stretched, clamping around your cock as her pace quickens and turns ragged and urgent. It's a whole other level, it's unparalleled and all-consuming. You're just about ready to blow inside her ass.

"Hold onto me," She pants, grasping your left wrist and bringing it over to her mouth, placing your fingertips upon her tongue and sucking. It is lewd and erotic and exciting and your insides begin to churn and ache.

There's no stopping you now, you erupt again, gripping her waist as your hips buck up on instinct, jamming yourself deep and blowing. Miyeon moans around your fingertips—taking your load while still rubbing her swollen little clit.

"Yes, I love it when I make you cum like that," she murmurs, sliding herself slowly off your half-mast cock and crawling off your lap. She throws herself down on the seat in a heap, peering down at the thick mess of cum dripping out of her freshly fucked orifices, a dazed smile, satiated.

You blink and try to get her into focus but it's to no use—she blurs and vanishes before your eyes. And soon, you're back. Your workshop, in your chair, and still hooked into Miyeon. Still sitting back-to-back, your foreheads damp, breathing hard and ragged. The lights flickering a bright electric blue.

"Incredible," you breathe.

Miyeon sighs. "Yeah..." She detaches the link from behind her ear. Miyeon climbs to her feet, shakily making her way around your workspace. "I'm such a mess," She says, touching under her dress.

"Fuck, yeah me too," you sit there trying to process what just happened.

"I want a copy. The whole thing." Miyeon places a card down on the desk.

"I'll get started."

[naburi]

PLEASE DON’T RIP MY DRESS

CHO MIYEON X READER

TAGS: CHEATING, OFFICE SEX

2.2K WORDS

“Come home early with that dress, you look beautiful,” the elegant woman was flattered by what her husband said. She started as a marketing assistant and soared through the ranks to become the CEO assistant due to her determination and exceptional “skills.” It’s the company’s anniversary party and everyone has eyes on your assistant. She can’t go home unscathed with how gorgeous she is. “Please don’t rip my dress,” she pleaded. You let the woman go home with your cum dripping down her thighs.

“I’m home” she greeted her husband when he opened the door for her. The woman still looks gorgeous but is visibly tired to do the deed. He leans in for a kiss but all she can give is a tired peck. Her husband thinks if they can still do it, he grabs her boobs over her dress and leans again for a kiss. Not wanting to disappoint her husband, she tried her best to match his passionate rhythm. They find themselves in the living room. Her husband lays her gently on the couch while he goes on top of her. While still kissing, his hand finds her boobs. Pulling her dress down carefully not wanting to ruin it. Miyeon’s boobs pop up with only nipple tapes covering them. His hands slowly peel off the cover to play with her nipples.

The woman moans in her husband’s mouth interrupting their kisses. Her husband likes what she hears and continues his pursuit. She pulls up the other end of her dress to reach for her slit. “You’re already wet,” he said when he touched her wet panties. Miyeon sits up quickly, distraught with the realization that your cum is still inside her. She felt guilty that her husband might have touched some of it. “I-I can’t do it tonight,” the woman said before she got up to go to the bathroom.

Miyeon has everyone hooked when she set foot in your company. The rumors of the new hire that’s too pretty for her job circulates quickly even to the top management. Men in different departments tried to use their higher position to get the woman’s attention. Your attempts will get rejected if you have nothing to offer her for exchange. The woman came from a poor background. Ever since turning into a teenager, she’s hellbent to gain not just financial stability, but wealth. Every move she makes is a step closer to getting rich.

“Hi, I’m Cho Miyeon,” she introduced herself to you for the first time. You heard how she became your assistant. In only a span of three years, the woman went from a marketing assistant to the CEO assistant. A quick rise that is not possible without a great “effort and excellence.” It’s an open secret how she managed to get promoted to such levels but everyone turns a blind eye. She may have an ambition to rise to the top but her feet are always on the ground. Although not everyone is a fan of her actions, they can’t say anything to her character due to how kind and polite she really is.

“I’ll find you later,” you said before the two of you separated in the party. She already knew what you meant. On every company occasion, late overtimes, even the frustrating days at work. It all ends the same, her getting fucked by you. Can you really blame yourself? Her slim body has curves that begs to be touched. Her boobs have the perfect size for your hands. A seductive face that awakes the wildest side of a man.

Miyeon was having a good time, her time was divided by trying to greet people that wanted to know her and enjoying this party with her office friends. Everyone in the company has heard everything about her but for some, this is the first time they see her in person. Their eyes wander in every part of her body, from her gorgeous face to her alluring body. From her exposed cleavage to her pump butt, they want to see all of her. People are intrigued by how this woman seduces her way to the top of the corporate world.

The woman could not care any less by the hundreds of eyes that were feasting on her body. She knows that her alluring body is one of her tools in her seductions. For her, all they are doing is validating how sultry she really is. It’s almost 9 pm, and she still has not heard from you. She wonders if you are already busy with someone else. Miyeon tries her best to not think about it but a worried expression written all over her face. She felt threatened that someone else would knock her position off by doing the same thing.

She excuses herself with her office mates to look for you. Circling around the function hall, her worries start to grow as she still can’t find a glimpse of you. A noticeable silence from the crowd caught her attention. She knows that there is only one thing that can make a crowd of people go silent, it means that you are around. As the CEO of the company, every employee felt shy in your presence. Not everyday they are around you thus people gasp for a moment when they finally see their CEO.

Miyeon looks around and there you are walking towards her. There are employees who try to get your attention but you only give them a kind smile. You wonder why the woman felt relief to see you. “Come with me in my office, help me with something,” that’s her cue, she already knows what you actually mean and what kind of “help” you really need. Walking towards the elevator, you can see in your peripheral the look of men who look jealous that you have her as your assistant.

The two of you step side by side in the elevator. Miyeon waits for the door to close before leaning in on you, hugging your whole arm. You felt her boobs pressed against your elbow. “Are you happy to see me?” You asked, still wandering about the expression she displayed a few minutes ago. “I thought you already replaced me,” she said jokingly, hiding the fact that she really meant it. The elevator doors open but she still has not let go of your hand. She knows that nobody is on this floor at this late.

You and Miyeon walked towards your office. She hugs your hands tighter as the tension grows. This has become a routine for the both of you. Her body knows that it’s already that time again were she will get fucked. As you enter the office, Miyeon already positions herself on your desk. She rests her body on top of it while her butt is protruding out towards you. You move closer to her backside before giving it a strong smack. The woman whimpered as she felt a sting of pain. “You look so pretty in that dress,” you said before giving her butt a strong smack again.

You grope her ass over her dress as you lean on to kiss her exposed back. You continue to grope her butt while kissing all parts of her back. Miyeon’s eyes are closed as she feels her body gets hot just by your kisses. She felt the trails of kisses now moving up to her neck. A soft moan leaves her mouth as your lips reach her neck. You slowly peck her neck as you don’t want to leave a hickey. In the beginning of your sexual relationship, the two of you set boundaries: You can’t ruin her makeup during company hours as it’s time consuming to do her makeup again; you can’t give her hickeys in any parts of her body as her husband might see it; you can’t ruin her uniforms. The latter rule is always getting broken due to how many clothes you destroyed when fucking her in her corporate attires. Buttons fly around when you hurriedly open her top. Skirts are getting ripped as it gets pulled up everytime your fucking her. Panties get loosen due to how hard you pull it down whenever you can’t wait to enter her.

Tonight was no different, your hands reached the end of her dress to pull it up, exposing her underwear. You smack her butt once again before you rest your hand on it. She moans as she gets surprised by the sudden smack. You position yourself directly on her backside. You hold the woman in her hips while you press your bulge in her firm butt. Your bulge is now in between her ass, giving her a dry humps. Low moans were heard from Miyeon as she felt your bulge hit her clit, you notice that the woman moved her butt intentionally to rub her clit on your bulge.

Your pants get tighter as your hard cock is poking out of your underwear. Miyeon even felt how hard your cock underneath your pants as she looked back at you, waiting for your next move. She saw that you unzipped your pants and finally pulled out your hard cock. You teasingly rub it against her slit and you noticed how wet she already is. The tip of your cock gets lubricated as her wetness coats the head of it. You hold her hips again while your other hand is guiding your cock to her entrance.

“Si-sir,” Miyeon said as she felt how quick your cock entered her slit. Her insides perfectly hug your shaft, conforming to it due to how frequently you enter her. The woman can only rest her head on your desk while you start giving her backshots. You might be alone in the room but the habit of holding her moans engraved onto her actions. She starts to bite her lips as you pick up the pace. Squeaking sound can be heard as your desk is getting pushed forward with every thrust that you give her.

Eyes shut and bitten lips. Miyeon is struggling to keep her moans. She used her hand to cover her mouth but you had other plans. You pull her hand away from her mouth and hold onto it while you pound her in a sudden burst in pace. You want to make her moan loud. You want to see how long she can keep holding it. You changed your fast pace into a slow but deep thrust. Miyeon yelps with your different pace. Your hips collide as your cock fills her slit.

You let go of her hand as you’re now focused on holding her boobs. You tried to pull down her top from behind but Miyeon grabbed your hands. “Please, don’t rip my dress” she pleaded. At first you ignore what she says but her perseverance of holding on to your hand got into you. You thought that she must have really liked this dress. She did not tell you how her husband compliments her with that dress. She is cheating behind his back but that doesn’t mean that she did not love her man.

“Go on, remove your dress,” you seated on your executive chair while watching her get undressed. She carefully unzips her long dress and leaves it neatly on the other chair. Miyeon looks back at you. without saying a word, she sits on your lap and puts your still hard cock inside her again. Putting her hand on your shoulders, she rocks her hips back and forth. Miyeon felt bad that she needed to break off the sex. She wants to reignite your libido. She leans her boobs closer to your face, inviting you to suck it. You look her in the eye before sucking his boobs as you notice her efforts. He holds her two boobs to suck her perky nipples. You alternately suck it, giving both equal attention.

Miyeon hugs you by the head as your tongue is circling around her nipples. She feels how your tongue glides in her boobs. You notice that she rides your cock faster everytime you suck her boobs. You use this observation to your advantage and focus on flicking and licking her nipples. Miyeon throws her head back as she gets stimulated. She rides on top of you as fast as she can. You get worried that your chair could break if she continues with this pace but her eagerness to please you silence that thought. You put your hand on both sides of her hips to hold her steady.

You meet her hips as you thrust on her upwards. The noise of flesh colliding echoes inside your office. Her boobs are bouncing uncontrollably due to how forceful your body meets. Miyeon hugs you closer as she pressed her mouth on your neck to muffle her moans. “Don’t c-cum in-” before she finished her sentence. Your hot cum flows inside her, Miyeon moans as she gets surprised. It's been a while since you cum inside her.

“Keep my cum inside you” you said as she stood up.

“Wh-what about the party?” She’s trying to object.

“No one will notice,” you firmly said.

Both of you go back down the party just to find out that everyone is starting to leave. You didn’t notice how long you're in the office with Miyeon.

“I’ll book you a ride,” you said to her.

“I’m home” she greeted her husband when he opened the door for her.

[jupiterpilgrim]

The Elf Who Couldn't Help

Christmas Special 🎄

Miyeon x Male Reader

word count: 5K

You're wandering through the crowded mall, Christmas music blasting from every direction as you try to check off the last few items on your shopping list. The usual holiday chaos surrounds you - parents dragging screaming kids, teenagers hogging the benches, old people walking too damn slow. Just another December afternoon.

That's when you spot the Santa's workshop setup near the food court. There's a long-ass line of hyper children waiting to sit on Santa's lap, but what catches your eye is his helper elf. She's this tiny Asian girl in a green costume that looks about two sizes too big, desperately trying to wrangle the kids into some kind of order.

"Please stay in line! One at a time!" Her voice is high and stressed as a group of boys completely ignores her, ducking under the rope barriers.

You can't help but chuckle at how overwhelmed she looks. The elf costume is ridiculous - striped tights, pointy shoes with bells, and a hat that keeps sliding down over her eyes. But there's something endearing about how hard she's trying, even as chaos erupts around her.

And she's undeniably adorable too.

"Fucking hell," you mutter under your breath as another kid breaks free from the line, causing even more chaos. The girl's shoulders slump in defeat as she tries to restore order. This will definitely be a long day for the poor thing.

You continue with your shopping, but find yourself passing by the Santa setup a few more times. Each time, the poor elf looks more and more frazzled. Her dark hair is escaping from under the hat, her cheeks are flushed, and she's practically jogging to keep up with all the line-cutting kids.

"Please, one at a time!" the elf girl pleads, her voice cracking slightly. You notice dark circles under her eyes as you walk past.

After finishing up your shopping, you head to your car feeling accomplished. That's when your phone buzzes - a text from your mother saying your cousin - yes, that cousin - decided last-minute to join Christmas dinner.

Fuck.

Now you need another gift.

With a sigh, you trudge back into the mall. The Santa setup is gone now, packed away for the night. You quickly grab a generic gift card (he's not worth much effort anyway) and head back to the parking lot.

That's when you hear it - soft sniffling coming from between two cars. You pause, keys in hand. The sound continues, clearly someone crying. Following the noise, you find a small figure curled up against a tire, wearing that ridiculous elf costume.

"Hey... are you okay?" You ask gently.

She jerks up with a gasp, hastily wiping her eyes. It's the same elf from earlier, but her makeup is smeared and her eyes are red and puffy.

"I'm fine!" She squeaks, trying to force a smile. "Just... just taking a break!"

You raise an eyebrow. "In the parking lot? At night?"

She deflates slightly. "Okay, maybe not just taking a break..."

"I saw you earlier, helping Santa. Rough day with the kids?"

A bitter laugh escapes her. "That obvious, huh?" She sniffs and wipes her nose with her sleeve. "Everything went wrong. The kids were crazy, I couldn't control them, I dropped hot chocolate all over myself... and now they're firing me. Said I'm not 'elf material.'"

"That's harsh. Those kids were like wild animals though, not sure anyone could have controlled them."

She shrugs, looking down at her ridiculous pointed shoes. "I really needed this job though. Even just through Christmas..."

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll find something else soon." You hesitate for a second, then you say your name.

"Miyeon," she replies softly.

"Nice to meet you, Miyeon. Look, this might sound weird but... would you want to grab something to eat? You look like you could use a friend right now."

Her eyes widen. "Oh! That's very kind but... I don't know you. And I probably look terrible..." She gestures at her tear-stained face.

You grin. "Come on, who doesn't want to have dinner with a Christmas elf? I promise I'm not a serial killer. We can go somewhere public with lots of witnesses."

That gets a small laugh out of her. "I really shouldn't..."

Right on cue, her stomach lets out a loud growl. Her face turns bright red.

"When's the last time you ate?" You ask.

"Um... breakfast? Maybe?" She admits sheepishly. "I was too nervous to eat lunch..."

"That settles it then. Come on, my treat. Consider it my good deed for the holiday season."

She bites her lip, clearly conflicted. "You really don't have to..."

"I want to. Plus, how often do I get to take an elf to dinner? It'll make a great story."

Finally, a real smile breaks through. "Okay... but only if you promise to drive me home after?"

"Scout's honor," you reply, helping her up.

—

You lead her to your car, noticing how small and vulnerable she looks in the ridiculous elf costume. During the short drive, you learn that Miyeon is a college student who needed extra money for textbooks next semester.

"The mall job seemed perfect," she explains. "Decent pay for just two weeks of work. But I guess I'm not cut out for dealing with kids."

"Those weren't kids, they were tiny terrorists," you reply, making her giggle.

At the diner, you slide into a booth and watch in amusement as Miyeon demolishes a huge plate of pancakes. She pauses between bites, suddenly self-conscious.

"Am I being rude? I must look like such a pig..."

"Not at all. Eat up - you've earned it after this sitty day."

Other diners keep glancing at your table, probably wondering why there's an elf having breakfast for dinner. Miyeon shrinks under their stares.

"Don't you need to return the costume?" you ask.

She shakes her head. "Had to buy it myself. Waste of money now..."

"Seriously? They made you pay for it? That's fucked up."

"Yeah... I spent most of my savings on it too." Her voice wavers slightly.

You study her as she eats - she really is cute, even in the silly costume. There's something genuine and sweet about her that draws you in.

"So what are you studying?" you ask.

"Art history. Everyone says it's useless but... I love it. There's something magical about understanding how art has shaped human culture throughout time."

Her eyes light up as she talks about her studies, hands gesturing animatedly. You find yourself smiling at her enthusiasm.

"That's actually really cool. Most people just chase whatever degree will make them the most money."

"That's what my parents wanted me to do," she sighs. "They think I'm wasting my time. The mall job was supposed to prove I could be responsible and support myself but..." she trails off, looking down at her empty plate.

"Hey, no matter what they think. Do what makes you happy."

She gives you a grateful smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

After dinner, you drive her home as promised. She lives in a small apartment complex near campus.

"Thank you so much for everything," Miyeon says sincerely. "I don't know how to repay you."

You pretend to think hard for a moment.

"Hmm, how about drinks tomorrow night?" you suggest. "No elf costume required."

Her eyes widen. "Are you... are you asking me out?"

"Unless that would be weird?"

"No! I mean... no, it wouldn't be weird. I'd like that." Her cheeks flush pink.

"Great. I'll text you?"

She nods, typing her number into your phone. As she gets out of the car, she turns back one more time.

"You know... maybe getting fired wasn't the worst thing after all."

—

The next evening, you meet Miyeon at a cozy bar downtown. She looks completely different out of the elf costume - wearing a simple sweater and jeans that highlight her petite but curvy figure. Her dark hair falls in soft waves around her face.

"Wow, you clean up nice," you tease. "Almost didn't recognize you without the pointy ears."

She rolls her eyes but smiles. "Never mention that costume again. I'm trying to repress those memories."

Over drinks, conversation flows easily. You learn that Miyeon moved here from Korea as a child, that she has a passion for Renaissance art, and that she secretly loves terrible reality TV shows. She's funny and smart, with a dry sense of humor that catches you off guard.

"So what do you do?" she asks, sipping her cocktail.

You tell her about your job, making her laugh with stories about your weird coworkers. As the night goes on, you find yourself moving closer together, knees touching under the table.

"Want to know a secret?" Miyeon says, slightly tipsy. "I actually hate Christmas music now. Hours of Jingle Bells on repeat will do that to you."

"I don't blame you. That shit's torture."

She giggles, leaning into you slightly. "You know what else? Some of those kids were evil. Like, actually evil. One bit me!"

"No fucking way!"

"Yes! Right here!" She rolls up her sleeve to show you a small bruise on her forearm. Without thinking, you gently run your fingers over the mark. Her skin is incredibly soft.

Miyeon shivers slightly at your touch, looking up at you with those big dark eyes. The air between you feels charged suddenly.

"Do you want to take a walk in the park?" you ask softly.

Shd nods, biting her lower lip.

—

The winter air nips at your faces as you and Miyeon stroll through the park. Christmas lights twinkle in the trees, creating a magical atmosphere despite the late hour. Snow crunches beneath your feet as you walk close together, shoulders brushing.

"Thanks for tonight," Miyeon says softly. "I really needed this after... you know." She gestures vaguely, probably referring to the elf fiasco.

"Hey, I should be thanking you. Not every day I get to rescue a damsel in distress from a parking lot," you tease.

She playfully shoves your shoulder. "I wasn't in distress! I was just... strategically regrouping."

"Is that what we're calling crying behind a car now?"

"Shut up," she laughs, but moves closer to you as a cold breeze whips past.

You find a bench overlooking a small pond, its surface reflecting the colorful lights. Sitting close together for warmth, you can smell her light floral perfume mixing with the crisp winter air.

"You know what's funny?" Miyeon says, watching her breath form little clouds. "If I hadn't been such a terrible elf, we never would have met."

"You weren't terrible. Those kids were demons."

"True. But still..." She turns to look at you, snowflakes catching in her dark hair. Her cheeks are pink from the cold and maybe the drinks. "I'm kind of glad it happened."

The moment feels perfect - the lights, the snow, her eyes shining as she looks up at you. You lean in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wants to.

Instead, she meets you halfway.

Her lips are soft and slightly cold from the winter air. The kiss is gentle, tentative at first, then deepening as she sighs against your mouth. Your hand comes up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing away a snowflake.

When you finally part, Miyeon's eyes stay closed for a moment longer, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Wow," she breathes.

"Yeah," you agree eloquently, making her giggle.

—

The next few days pass in a pleasant blur. You text constantly, sharing memes and stories about your days. She sends you pictures of terrible Christmas sweaters at thrift stores, you counter with photos of your coworker's increasingly elaborate desk decorations.

You meet up again for coffee between her job hunting attempts. This time she's wearing an oversized sweater that makes her look even tinier, hands wrapped around a steaming peppermint latte.

"I had another interview today," she sighs. "At a bookstore this time."

"How'd it go?"

"Well, I didn't cry or spill anything, so better than the mall job already." She takes a sip of her drink, leaving a foam mustache that you resist the urge to kiss away. "But they said they're looking for someone with more retail experience."

"That's bullshit. How are you supposed to get experience if no one will hire you?"

"Exactly!" She throws up her hands in frustration. "It's like they expect me to emerge fully formed from the womb with five years of customer service experience."

You think for a moment. "You know... my friend works at that art supply store downtown. I could put in a word?"

Miyeon's eyes light up. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course. Plus, it's related to your major kind of. You'd be surrounded by art stuff all day."

She practically bounces in her seat. "That would be amazing! Thank you-thank you-thank you!"

Her enthusiasm is infectious. You can't help but lean across the table to kiss her, tasting peppermint on her lips.

The art store interview goes well - Your friend's recommendation carries weight, and Miyeon's genuine passion for art shines through. They hire her for a temporary position through the holiday season, with potential to stay on part-time after.

"I start Monday!" she tells you excitedly over the phone. "And the employee discount is amazing. I'm going to buy so many fancy pencils."

You celebrate with takeout at her tiny apartment near campus. It's cramped but cozy, walls covered in art prints and fairy lights. You sit on her futon eating Chinese food straight from the containers while she tells you about all her plans.

"The manager said they do workshops sometimes too. Like, teaching basic techniques and stuff. Maybe eventually I could lead one!" She's practically vibrating with excitement.

"Look at you, moving up in the world. From disgraced elf to art guru."

She throws a fortune cookie at your head. "Never mention the elf thing again! I'm trying to maintain some dignity here."

You catch the cookie and crack it open. "'A surprise encounter will lead to lasting happiness.’ Huh, guess these things are right sometimes."

Miyeon blushes, ducking her head. You set aside the takeout containers and pull her close, kissing her slowly. She melts against you, fingers curling into your shirt.

The makeout sessions are becoming a regular thing, but neither of you pushes for more. It's nice, this slow build of intimacy. Learning the little things about each other - how she scrunches her nose when she laughs, the way she absently hums while reading, her habit of stealing sips of your drinks and more.

—

You help her prepare for her first day, picking out an outfit that's professional but still her style.

She texts you updates throughout the day:

"OMG there are so many types of pencils. How are there this many pencils??"

"Just had to explain to someone why they can't return used paint. Why are people like this?"

"A kid just asked me what colors taste the best. I told him blue. Hope I don't get sued."

After her shift, you meet her for dinner. She's tired but happy, chattering about everything she learned.

"And did you know there are pencils that cost like $50 EACH? For one pencil! But they're so smooth, feel this!" She pulls a sample pencil from her bag, making you test it on a napkin.

"Very smooth," you agree, charmed by her enthusiasm. "Worth $50?"

"Maybe not $50, but with my discount..." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

The days leading up to Christmas pass quickly. You help Miyeon learn the store's inventory system, quizzing her on different types of paper and brush sizes. She introduces you to her favorite cheap noodle places near campus.

One evening, you're walking her home when it starts snowing heavily. She tilts her head back, sticking out her tongue to catch snowflakes.

"You know what?" she says thoughtfully. "I actually kind of miss the elf costume. Just a tiny bit."

You raise an eyebrow. "Stockholm syndrome kicking in?"

"No, it's just... if I hadn't taken that stupid job, if I hadn't been so bad at it... we wouldn't be here now." She stops walking, turning to face you. "Sometimes the worst things lead to the best things, you know?"

You brush snow from her hair. "Very philosophical. Must be all that art history education."

"Shut up," she laughs, standing on tiptoes to kiss you. Her lips are cold but her mouth is warm, tasting like the hot chocolate you shared earlier.

When she pulls back, her eyes are serious. "Thank you. For everything. The job, the support... just being there."

"Hey, I got something out of it too. How many people can say they're dating a former mall elf?"

She groans. "I take it back. You're the worst."

But she's smiling as she says it, snowflakes catching on her eyelashes, and you think maybe those fortune cookies know what they're talking about after all.

—

The art supply store keeps her busy through the holiday rush. You bring her coffee during her breaks, watching her explain different types of paints to customers with growing confidence. She's in her element here, surrounded by creative supplies and fellow art enthusiasts.

"A lady asked me to recommend brushes for oil painting today," she tells you proudly. "And I actually knew what to suggest! I'm becoming one of those knowledgeable retail people."

"Better than being one of those retail people who hides in the stockroom to cry," you point out.

"That was ONE TIME," she protests, but she's laughing.

—

Finally, about two days before Christmas, you invite her over to your place for dinner. You've cooked before, but tonight feels different. There's an electricity in the air, an unspoken anticipation.

Miyeon shows up wearing a simple red dress that hugs every curve. Her dark hair falls in soft waves past her shoulders, and you catch a hint of floral perfume when she hugs you hello.

"Something smells amazing," she says, following you to the kitchen.

"Don't sound so surprised," you tease. "I can cook sometimes."

"Sometimes being the key word." She peers into the pot on the stove. "Remember the Great Pasta Disaster of last week?"

"Hey, how was I supposed to know the sauce would explode like that?"

She laughs, stealing a piece of garlic bread. "My ceiling is still stained red. My landlord thinks I murdered someone up there."

Dinner is comfortable, filled with your usual banter. But there's an undercurrent of tension, a charge building between you. Every accidental brush of hands sends sparks down your spine. You catch her staring at your lips more than once.

After the dishes are done, you move to the couch with glasses of wine. Miyeon curls up against your side, fitting perfectly under your arm. You can feel her heart racing.

"This is nice," she murmurs, tracing patterns on your thigh.

"Yeah?" Your voice comes out rougher than intended. "Just nice?"

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes dark and intense. "Maybe more than nice..."

You cup her face with one hand, thumb brushing her cheek. She leans into the touch, breath hitching slightly.

"Miyeon..."

"Yes?"

"Do you like me?"

Instead of answering, she surges up to press her lips against yours. It starts soft, tentative, but quickly deepens into something more urgent. Her tongue slides against yours as she shifts to straddle your lap, dress riding up her thighs.

You run your hands up her sides, feeling her shiver. She grinds down against you, drawing a groan from your throat. When you break for air, her pupils are blown wide with desire.

"Bedroom?" You manage to ask.

She nods frantically. "Please."

You stand, lifting her with you. Her legs wrap around your waist as you carry her down the hall, still kissing. You nearly trip twice, making her giggle against your mouth.

Finally reaching the bedroom, you put her back on the floor, your fingers gently touch her cheek, she looks up at you with such trust and want that it makes your chest ache.

"You're sure about this?" You have to ask.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she replies.

That’s all you needed to hear.

Your hands roam over Miyeon's body, mapping every delicious curve through her thin dress. She arches into your touch, soft moans escaping her perfect lips. When you kiss down her neck, she threads her fingers through your hair, pulling you closer.

"I've wanted this for so long," she whispers, her voice trembling with need. "Ever since we first met..."

You gently bite her neck, making her gasp. "Me too, princess. You drive me fucking crazy." Your hands slide down to squeeze her ass through the dress. She feels so perfect, so soft yet firm.

Miyeon grinds against you, her breath coming faster. "Please... touch me more..." She guides your hand to her breast, letting you feel her hardened nipple through the fabric.

You waste no time sliding the dress straps off her shoulders, revealing more of her flawless porcelain skin. Her medium breasts spill free, pink nipples begging for attention. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," you growl, taking one peak into your mouth.

"Ohh! Yes, suck them..." She holds your head to her chest as you lavish her breasts with your tongue, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucking. Her moans get louder when you graze your teeth over the sensitive buds.

Your hands push her dress down further until it pools at her feet. Miyeon stands before you in just her lacy panties, her face flushed with arousal and slight embarrassment. You drink in the sight of her nearly naked body.

"You're staring too much," she says shyly.

You gently grab her wrists. "It's because you're fucking perfect." You pull her close for a deep kiss, your tongue exploring her mouth as your hands roam her exposed skin.

She melts into the kiss, pressing her breasts against your chest. You can feel her nipples hard against you through your shirt. Her hands tug at the fabric. "Take this off... I want to feel your skin..."

You break the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head. When your bare chest meets hers, you both moan at the contact. Her skin is so incredibly soft against yours.

"Bed. Now." You guide her backwards until her knees hit the mattress. She lies back, dark hair fanning out on the pillow as she looks up at you with those innocent yet lustful eyes.

You crawl over her, leaving a trail of hot kisses from her tummy up to her neck. Her hands explore your back, nails lightly scratching. When you grind your clothed erection against her core, she gasps.

"Can you feel how hard you make me?" You thrust against her again, making her whimper.

"Y-yes... I want to see it..." Her hands move to your belt, fumbling with the buckle.

You help her undo your pants, kicking them off along with your boxers. Your cock springs free, already rock hard and leaking precum. Miyeon's eyes widen as she takes in your size.

"Like what you see, princess?" You smirk as her hand wraps around your shaft, stroking experimentally.

"It's so big..." she whispers, thumb brushing over your sensitive tip. "Will it... fit?"

"We'll go nice and slow, baby. But first..." You hook your fingers in her panties, sliding them down her legs. You spread her creamy thighs wide apart, admiring how her pink pussy glistens with arousal. Her outer lips are puffy and swollen, inner folds glistening with her juices. The musky scent of her cunt makes your mouth water as you lean in closer. “Fuck, you're already so wet for me.”

"Please..." she whimpers, squirming under your intense gaze. "Stop teasing and lick me already!"

You give her a wicked grin before diving in, dragging your hot tongue through her dripping slit from bottom to top. The taste of her pussy explodes across your tongue - tangy and sweet like ripe fruit. She cries out and bucks her hips up into your face.

"Fuck! Your tongue feels so good!" Her fingers tangle in your hair as you focus on her clit, circling the swollen nub with firm strokes. You can feel it getting harder and more pronounced under your tongue.

Holding her thighs open wider, you bury your face deeper between her legs, eating her pussy like it's your last meal. Your tongue alternates between fucking into her tight hole and flicking rapidly over her clit. Wet sucking sounds fill the room as you devour her cunt.

Her pussy is absolutely drenched now, cream coating your chin as you feast on her. You slide two fingers into her clutching channel while continuing to assault her clit with your tongue. The walls of her cunt squeeze your digits hungrily.

"Holy shit, don't stop! Right there!" She grinds her pussy against your face, chasing her pleasure. "I'm getting so close already..."

You curl your fingers to massage her g-spot while sucking her clit between your lips. The combination has her writhing and moaning uncontrollably. Her thighs start to tremble as her orgasm builds.

You increase the pressure and speed, determined to make her cum hard on your tongue. Your fingers pump in and out of her sopping pussy while you flick her clit mercilessly. She's so wet that obscene squelching noises accompany each thrust of your fingers.

"Fuck fuck fuck! I'm gonna cum!" Her back arches off the bed as her climax hits. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers as waves of pleasure course through her. You keep licking and sucking, drawing out her orgasm until she pushes your head away.

But you're not done with her yet. Not so soon. As she lies there panting, you reposition yourself between her legs. Her pussy is still twitching with aftershocks when you dive back in, this time focusing solely on her sensitive clit.

"Wait! I just came—ahhhh!" Her protest turns into a moan as you suck her swollen clit between your lips. You can feel her trying to close her legs but you hold them open, continuing your relentless assault on her pussy.

The oversensitivity quickly transforms back into pleasure as you work her towards another orgasm. Your tongue swirls around her clit in tight circles while three fingers pump into her dripping hole. Her cream coats your hand as you finger-fuck her roughly.

"Oh god, I can't... it's too much!" But her hips are rocking against your face again, chasing the building pleasure. You can feel her pussy getting even wetter, if that's possible.

You alternate between broad strokes with your flattened tongue and quick flicks directly on her clit. Meanwhile your fingers curl to hit her g-spot with each thrust. The combination of stimulation has her climbing rapidly towards another peak.

Her moans get higher and more desperate as you drive her wild with your mouth and fingers. You can tell she's fighting the pleasure, still sensitive from her first orgasm. But you're determined to make her cum again.

"Please... I can't take it... gonna cum again!" Her thighs start shaking as her second orgasm approaches. You double down, sucking her clit firmly while hammering your fingers against her g-spot.

She screams as she cums, her pussy clamping down so hard on your fingers that you can barely move them. You keep your lips locked around her clit, sucking gently to draw out the intense pleasure.

When her orgasm finally subsides, you slowly withdraw your fingers from her quivering pussy. They're absolutely coated in her cream. You make eye contact as you lick them clean, savoring her tangy flavor.

"Holy shit..." Miyeon pants, still trembling. "That was incredible. I've never cum that hard before."

You smirk and dive right back in, making her yelp in surprise. Her clit is swollen and ultra-sensitive now, perfect for what you have planned. You flatten your tongue and lap at her pussy with long, slow strokes.

"No more, baby, I can't..." But her protests are weak and her hips are already moving against your mouth again. You can feel her getting wetter as you continue eating her out.

This time you take it slow, building her up gradually. Your tongue explores every fold and crease of her pussy, occasionally dipping into her hole to taste her essence. When you finally return attention to her clit, she's practically begging for it.

"Please... need to cum again..." Miyeon rocks desperately against your face, seeking more pressure. But you keep your touches light and teasing, driving her crazy with want.

You trace letters on her clit with the tip of your tongue, spelling out filthy words as she writhes beneath you. When you finally slide your fingers back into her clutching pussy, she moans in relief.

"Yes! Fuck me with your fingers while you eat my pussy!" Her dirty talk spurs you on as you pump three fingers into her dripping hole. Your tongue works her clit with firm, steady pressure.

Her pussy is absolutely gushing now, cream running down your wrist as you finger-fuck her roughly. The wet sounds of your fingers plunging into her cunt fill the room along with her desperate moans.

You curl your fingers to massage her g-spot while sucking her clit between your lips. The dual stimulation has her climbing rapidly towards another orgasm. Her thighs start trembling as she gets close.

"Gonna cum again! Don't stop, please don't stop!" She grinds her pussy against your face, chasing her pleasure. You increase the pressure and speed, determined to give her the most intense orgasm yet.

Her back lifts clear off the bed, her body trembling violently as the orgasm tears through her. Miyeon's cries of your name echo in the room, her voice breaking into a series of desperate whimpers. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers, pulsating in rhythm with the waves of pleasure crashing through her. Her hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles white, as her thighs twitch uncontrollably. You don’t let up, your fingers continuing to work her through every shuddering moment of ecstasy, curling and teasing until she lets out a sharp gasp and pushes your head back, her hips jerking away.

"Stop, stop! Too much," she pants, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her body glistening with sweat.

You lean back, watching her recover, her hair splayed out like a halo against the pillow. Her cheeks are flushed deep red, lips parted as she struggles to catch her breath. She drapes an arm over her face, giggling weakly. "Wow... that was—like—insane. I didn’t know you were this good with your hands."

“Take your time,” you say, your tone soft but teasing as your gaze roams her utterly wrecked form.

She peeks at you from beneath her arm, her eyes still hazy and unfocused. Her thighs quiver as she stretches her legs out, one hand brushing against her stomach as if grounding herself. “Okay, just give me a second,” she murmurs, her voice shaky, a tired smile playing at her lips.

While she lies there, basking in the aftershocks, you reach over to the nightstand. Your fingers brush against the foil packet, and you tear it open deliberately, watching her out of the corner of your eye. Her gaze snaps to you as you roll the condom onto your throbbing cock, her pupils dilating slightly.

"Already?" she whispers, a flicker of excitement chasing away the exhaustion in her expression. You smirk, positioning yourself above her, letting her feel the heat of your body pressing against hers.

"Yes. Ready for me, princess?" You position yourself at her entrance, rubbing your tip through her folds.

She nods, pulling you down for a passionate kiss. You can feel her trembling with anticipation.

"Tell me if it's too much," you murmur against her lips as you start pushing in. The head pops past her tight entrance, making you both moan.

"Oh fuck... you're so big..." She bites her lip, adjusting to the stretch as you slowly feed more of your length into her.

You go inch by inch, letting her pussy accommodate your size. Her walls grip you like a vice, so hot and tight it takes all your control not to just slam in.

"That's it, baby, taking my cock so well..." You bottom out, fully sheathed in her warmth.

You stay still for a moment, letting her adjust while peppering kisses across her face and neck. When her hips start moving against you, you take it as your cue to move.

You start with a few slow, shallow thrusts, just to get her warmed up. Miyeon's moans are soft at first, but they grow louder with each push, urging you on. You can feel her nails digging into your back, her legs wrapping around your waist, pulling you deeper into her. The angle changes, and you hit something inside her that makes her cry out.

"Fuck, right there," she gasps. "Don't stop."

You don't plan to. You pick up the pace, your hips moving faster, your cock sliding in and out of her slick pussy. She's meeting your thrusts, her body arching up to take you deeper.

"Faster," she begs, her voice ragged. "Please fuck me faster."

You grip her hips, your fingers digging into her soft flesh. You start really giving it to her, your balls slapping against her ass with each stroke. The bed creaks beneath you, the headboard banging against the wall as you pound her tight pussy.

"You like that, huh?" you growl in her ear. "Like getting fucked hard by my big cock?"

"Yes!" she screams. "Oh god, yes! Your cock feels so fucking good inside me."

Her words dissolve into incoherent moans, her body writhing beneath you. You can feel her getting wetter, her cream coating your shaft and dripping down her ass, making a fucking mess of the sheets. You can see it glistening on your cock every time you pull out, can feel it easing the way as you slam back in.

You lean down, your teeth finding her neck, biting down as you fuck her even harder. She cries out, her body convulsing around you. You can feel her pussy clenching, her walls squeezing your cock.

"Fuck, you're close," you groan. "I can feel it."

"Yes," she pants. "I'm gonna cum again. I'm gonna cum all over your cock."

You can feel your own orgasm building, your balls drawing up tight. But you hold back, determined to make her cum first. You want to feel her lose control, want to feel her pussy milking your cock.

You reach between them, your fingers finding her clit. You rub it in tight circles, your cock still pounding into her. She screams, her body bucking, her pussy clamping down on you like a vice.

"Cum for me, baby," you growl. "Let me feel you cum all over my cock."

And she does. She cums hard, her body convulsing, her pussy pulsing around you. You can feel her cream coating your cock, can feel it dripping down your balls. You keep fucking her, drawing out her orgasm, making her cry out with each thrust. Gradually you slow down the pace, each time your cock goes deep inside her, it pulls out slowly, you stay at this teasing pace until she catches her breath, then when you finally pull your cock out of her, without warning, you lift her shapely leg, exposing her dripping pussy and those delicate feet with festive red toenails.

"What are you doing?" she asks, watching as you grip her ankle.

"I'm gonna worship every inch of you," you growl, bringing her foot closer to your face. "Your pretty little toes look too tasty to resist."

Miyeon giggles nervously. "Nobody's ever... Oh fuck!" she gasps as you take her big toe into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. The polish is smooth against your tongue as you suck gently, watching her face for reactions.

"Does that feel good, baby?" You ask between licks. Her toes taste clean with just a hint of salt from sweat.

"Mmmhh... it's weird but... kinda nice," she admits, wiggling her toes against your tongue. You take two toes in your mouth now, sucking harder as your hand slides up her thigh.

"Your feet are fucking perfect," you tell her, kissing down to her arch. "Just like the rest of you." Your fingers find her pussy lips, already swollen and slick from earlier. You gather some of her wetness and start rubbing slow circles around her clit.

"Ohhh..." Miyeon moans, her leg trembling in your grip. You alternate between sucking her toes and licking long stripes up her sole while your fingers work her pussy. Her cream coats your digits as you slide two inside her tight channel.

"So wet for me," you growl. "I love how your pussy gets all creamy when you're turned on." You curl your fingers, finding that special spot that makes her whole body jerk.

"Fuck! Right there!" she cries out, grinding against your hand. You keep the pressure steady, pumping your fingers as you lavish attention on her feet. Her pussy clenches rhythmically around you.

"You gonna cum again for me?" you ask, increasing the pace of your fingers. "Gonna soak my hand with that sweet pussy?"

"Yes! Please don't stop!" Miyeon pants, her head thrashing on the pillow. You can feel her getting close, her inner walls fluttering. Just before she peaks, you withdraw your fingers, making her whine in protest.

"Not yet baby," you tease, releasing her foot. "I want to fuck you while I suck these pretty toes." You position yourself behind her, keeping her leg lifted. Your cock slides easily through her folds, gathering her wetness.

"Please," she begs. "I need you inside me..."

You press just the tip against her entrance, making her squirm.

"Tell me how bad you want it."

"Please, baby, I need to feel your big cock deep in my pussy! Please fuck me... I'm so empty..."

Unable to resist her pleading, you thrust forward, burying your full length in her tight heat. "Fuuuck," you groan. "Your pussy feels amazing." You start a steady rhythm, not too fast yet, wanting to build her up slowly.

Miyeon moans with each thrust, her pussy gripping you perfectly. You capture her toes in your mouth again, sucking hard as you fuck her. The dual stimulation has her writhing.

"Oh god... that's so... unngh!" She can barely form words as pleasure overwhelms her. You increase your pace gradually, driving deeper. Her cream coats your shaft, making obscene wet sounds with each stroke.

"You like having your toes sucked while I fuck this tight pussy?" you ask, releasing her foot momentarily. "Such a good girl, taking my cock so well."

"Yes! Love it... love your cock..." she gasps. You've never heard her talk so dirty before. It spurs you on, making you thrust harder.

Her pussy starts clenching erratically around you as you pound into her. You can tell she's getting close again. This time you don't let up, determined to make her cum hard.

"Something's happening..." Miyeon pants suddenly. "Feels different... like I need to pee..."

"That's it baby," you encourage her. "Don't fight it. Let go for me." You redouble your efforts, angling your hips to hit her g-spot with each thrust while sucking her toes enthusiastically.

"But... unngh... I can't..." she protests weakly, even as her body tenses up.

"Yes, you can! Cum for me Miyeon. Fucking squirt all over my cock!" You slam into her faster, feeling her pussy spasm around you.

"Oh god, oh god, OH FUCK!" Miyeon screams as the dam finally breaks. Clear fluid gushes from around your cock, soaking the sheets beneath you. Her whole body convulses as she experiences her first squirting orgasm.

You keep thrusting through her release, prolonging it as much as possible. More fluid spurts out with each stroke as she trembles uncontrollably.

"That's it baby, let it all out," you growl around her toes. "So fucking hot watching you squirt."

Miyeon can only moan incoherently as waves of pleasure crash over her. Her pussy clamps down so hard it nearly pushes you out, but you maintain your rhythm until her orgasm finally starts to subside.

You gently release her foot and slow your thrusts, giving her time to catch her breath. She looks absolutely wrecked in the best way possible.

"Holy shit," she pants when she can speak again. "What... what was that?"

You chuckle, still buried deep inside her quivering pussy. "That was you squirting, baby. Felt good, didn't it?"

She nods weakly. "Amazing... I didn't know I could do that..."

"Oh we're just getting started," you promise with a wicked grin. "Now that I know how to make you squirt, I'm gonna make you do it again and again..."

Miyeon whimpers at your words, her pussy clenching around you. You can feel she's still sensitive, but also still aroused.

Perfect.

"Ready?" you ask, starting to move inside her again. She moans in response as you lift her foot back to your mouth...

Your cock slides easily through her creamy folds as you build up a steady rhythm once more. Miyeon's moans get louder with each thrust, her oversensitive pussy gripping you like a vice.

"Such a good girl," you praise her between licks to her foot. "Taking my cock so well after that huge orgasm."

"Feels so good," she gasps. "Everything's so sensitive..."

You angle your hips to hit her g-spot again, making her whole body jerk. "Think you can squirt for me again?" You ask, increasing your pace slightly.

"I... unngh... maybe?" Miyeon pants. "Still feels like I might pee..."

"That's normal, baby. Just let it happen." You suck her big toe into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it as you fuck her deeper. Her cream coats your shaft, dripping down onto the already soaked sheets.

"Oh fuck... oh fuck..." she chants as the pleasure builds. You can feel her starting to tense up again, her inner walls fluttering around your cock.

"That's it," you encourage her. "Let go for me. Show me what a good little squirter you are."

Your words push her over the edge. With a sharp cry, Miyeon's pussy contracts hard and another gush of clear fluid sprays out around your cock.

"Fuck yes!" You growl, maintaining your rhythm as she squirts. "So fucking hot watching you lose control like this."

Wave after wave of pleasure rocks through her body as you continue fucking her through the intense orgasm. Her toes curl against your tongue as more fluid spurts out with each thrust.

When her release finally subsides, Miyeon lies there trembling and gasping for air. You slow your pace but don't stop completely, knowing you can wring at least one more orgasm from her oversensitive body.

"Please..." she whimpers, her body trembling beneath you. "It's too much... I can't..."

"Shh, baby," you murmur, your voice steady and firm. "You can take it. You can take everything I give you." You slow your thrusts a little more, letting her catch her breath, but not enough to let her come down from the peak. "You've got one more in you. I know you do."

She shakes her head, her hair sticking to her sweat-slicked face. "No, I can't... I can't..."

"You can," you insist, your cock still moving inside her, stirring up her pleasure again. "You're a fucking goddess, Miyeon. You can take every inch of my cock. You can cum all over it again."

You increase your speed, your hips moving faster, your cock hitting that spot inside her that makes her scream. You can feel her pussy clenching around you, trying to keep you in, trying to milk you.

"Oh god," she moans, her voice rising in pitch. "Oh god, oh god, oh god..."

"That's it, baby," you growl. "Feel that? Feel my cock hitting your g-spot? You're gonna cum for me again. You're gonna squirt all over my cock."

"I'm so close... I'm so clo—OH GOD!" she cries out, her body tensing, her pussy gripping you like a vice.

You can feel her right on the edge, her body coiled tight, ready to snap. You lean down, your teeth finding her earlobe, biting down just hard enough to send a shockwave through her.

"Cum for me, Miyeon," you command, your voice low and rough. "Fucking let go. Let me feel that pussy explode. Let me see that squirt. Do it, baby. Fucking do it now."

She screams, her body convulsing, her eyes rolling back in her head. "I'm cumm—AAAAH!"

You can feel it, hot and wet, gushing out of her, coating your cock, dripping down your balls. You keep fucking her, drawing out her orgasm, making her scream with each thrust.

"That's it, baby," you groan. "Fuck, that's so good. You're squirting all over my cock. You're such a good girl, Miyeon. Such a fucking good girl."

Her body is shaking, her pussy still pulsing around you. You slow your thrusts, letting her ride out her orgasm, letting her come down slowly. You're about to cum, right on the edge, but you hold back again. This is about her.

This is about Miyeon.

You gently pull out of her, your cock still hard and glistening with her cum. You move down her body, your tongue tracing a path down her stomach, down to her pussy, your hands stroking her thighs, your touch gentle and soothing.

The bed beneath her is a fucking mess—sheets soaked through, the scent of sex heavy in the air. You can see the wet spot spreading, a testament to her pleasure.

"Fuck, baby," you murmur, your voice soft but filled with awe. "Look at this mess you made. You're so fucking sexy."

Miyeon's breath hitches as she looks down at the wet sheets, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and satisfaction. "I... I didn't know I could do that," she admits, her voice shaky. "It felt... god, it felt so fucking good."

You smile, your fingers tracing patterns on her inner thighs, feeling the slickness of her cum. "You squirted, baby. You fucking squirted all over my cock. It was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

She shivers, her body still sensitive from the intense orgasm. "I've never... I've never felt anything like that before. It was like... like my whole body just let go."

You lean in, your tongue lapping at her pussy, tasting her, cleaning her up. She jolts, her hips bucking slightly, but you hold her steady, your hands gripping her thighs.

"Shh, baby," you soothe. "Let me take care of you. Let me clean you up."

She relaxes, her body melting into the bed as you take your time, your tongue exploring every inch of her pussy. You can feel her shivering, her body responding to your touch. The taste of her is intoxicating, a mix of sweet and salty, pure fucking heaven.

"You taste so fucking good, Miyeon," you murmur, your voice low and husky. "I could do this all fucking night."

She moans softly, her fingers tangling in your hair. "It feels so good... I can't believe I did that. I can't believe I squirted."

You look up at her, your eyes meeting hers. She's watching you, her eyes soft and hazy with pleasure. You smile, your tongue giving her one last lick.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Miyeon," you whisper. "God, you're so fucking perfect…"

"But you haven't come yet," she suddenly notes.

"You're right. And where do you want my cum, princess?" You ask.

"On my face... want to taste you..."

"Fuck... Okay. Yeah, right. Get on your knees, baby,” you ask her as you quickly remove the condom.

Miyeon looks up at you with those innocent eyes as she kneels before you, her pretty face flushed with arousal. Her lips are already swollen from all the kissing, making them look even more cock-hungry than usual. You grab a fistful of her silky black hair, guiding her face closer to your throbbing shaft.

"Open that pretty mouth for me baby," you command, tapping your cock head against her plump lips. "I want to see how deep you can take it."

She parts her lips obediently, sticking out her pink tongue to lap at your sensitive tip. The sight of your precum glistening on her tongue makes your cock throb with need. You slowly feed her more of your length, watching in satisfaction as her lips stretch around your girth.

"Mmmmph," she moans around your cock, her eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. She clearly loves having her mouth filled, eagerly sucking and slurping as you push deeper.

You start with slow, shallow thrusts, letting her get used to your size. Her tongue swirls expertly around your shaft as you slide in and out between those perfect lips. Wet sucking sounds fill the room along with her muffled moans.

"That's it baby, take my cock," you growl, tightening your grip in her hair. "Your mouth feels so fucking good."

She responds by taking you deeper, relaxing her throat to accommodate more of your length. Tears form in the corners of her eyes as you hit the back of her throat, but she doesn't pull away.

If anything, she seems even more eager.

You pick up the pace slightly, fucking her mouth with measured strokes. Her lipstick is getting smeared all over your cock, marking it with traces of red. The sight of her face getting messy already has your balls tightening.

"Such a good little cocksucker," you praise, watching her cheeks hollow with suction. "You love having your pretty face fucked don't you?"

She nods as best she can with your cock stuffed in her mouth, humming in agreement. The vibrations send pleasure shooting through your shaft.

You pull out briefly to let her catch her breath, a string of saliva connecting her lips to your cock head. She gasps for air but immediately opens wide again, eager for more. Her face is already a mess of smeared makeup and drool.

"Please fuck my face harder," she begs, voice hoarse. "I want you to use my mouth like a pussy."

You don't need to be asked twice. Gripping her head firmly with both hands, you slam your cock back between her lips. This time you don't hold back, setting a brutal pace as you fuck her throat. She gags and chokes but takes it like a champ, her eyes watering heavily.

The wet sounds of her throat getting pounded are absolutely obscene. Drool runs down her chin and neck as you use her mouth roughly. Her hands grip your thighs for support but she doesn't try to pull away or slow you down.

"Fuck yes, take that cock," you grunt, watching your shaft disappear repeatedly into her willing mouth. "Going to paint that pretty face white soon."

She moans eagerly around your length, clearly excited by the promise of a facial. You can feel your orgasm building as her throat muscles massage your sensitive head.

Your thrusts become more erratic as you get closer to the edge. Her face is an absolute mess now - mascara running down her cheeks, lipstick completely ruined, drool everywhere. She looks utterly debauched and you haven't even cum yet.

"Get ready baby," you warn, feeling your balls tighten. "Going to cover that beautiful face."

You pull out just in time, the slick heat of her lips giving way as you grip your shaft tightly, aiming at Miyeon's upturned face. Her mouth is already open, tongue stretched out, her eyes locked on yours with a look of pure, desperate need. "Give it to me," she breathes, her voice thick with anticipation. The sight of her waiting so hungrily for your release sends a jolt through you, your cock twitching violently in your hand.

With a guttural groan, you let go, the first rope of hot cum splattering across her forehead and sliding down to her nose. She gasps softly, her breath hitching as the next thick jet paints her cheek, followed by another streaking across the bridge of her nose. Your hand works your shaft steadily, aiming with intent, making sure to glaze her perfect lips thoroughly, the creamy mess dripping onto her tongue as she moans in satisfaction.

She doesn’t flinch—if anything, she leans into it, her tongue sweeping over her lips, savoring every drop that lands in her mouth. You’re relentless, emptying yourself onto her until her face is a masterpiece of your desire, every inch of her skin marked with your seed. Thick streaks cling to her lashes, a stray drop dangling precariously from her chin before falling onto her chest. By the time you're finished, she’s a vision of debauched perfection, her flushed cheeks and parted lips framed by the glistening evidence of your climax.

"Fuck," you mutter, your voice hoarse as you admire her. "Look at you. My perfect, filthy girl."

She moans softly, tilting her head as you bring your cock closer, your tip still sensitive but eager for more. Slowly, deliberately, you use your softening length to spread the mess across her skin. You smear the cum over her cheeks, tracing her jawline, rubbing it into her lips before sliding down to her chin. She stays perfectly still, her eyes closed, a serene smile tugging at her mouth as she basks in the attention.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” you whisper, your voice thick with awe. “That pretty face deserves to be covered in my cum every day.”

Her lashes flutter as she peeks up at you, her voice soft but dripping with satisfaction. “I’ll let you paint me whenever you want. I love how it feels... so warm, so dirty.”

Your thumb moves to her lips, smearing the last of the cum over them before pushing lightly into her mouth. She sucks on it obediently, her tongue flicking against your skin, her moan vibrating through your thumb.

When you finally pull back, you grab a handful of tissues, leaning down to clean her face. You start gently, dabbing at her cheeks and lips, but you can’t help but pause to admire her wrecked state—the messy hair, her flushed skin, her swollen, cock-bruised lips. Even as you clean her, the heat between you lingers, your touch lingering on her skin as she smiles up at you.

"You’re mine, Miyeon," you blurt out unconsciously, but there’s no mistaking the edge in your voice.

"Yours," she repeats, her voice a dreamy whisper. "Yeah, I'm yours.”

—

After changing the sheets on the bed, you both collapse onto the fresh, clean mattress, exhausted but content. You pull Miyeon close, her body fitting perfectly against yours as you snuggle together. The room is quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside the window.

Miyeon props herself up on an elbow, looking down at you with those dark, beautiful eyes. "So... this isn't just a one-time thing, right?" she asks, her voice soft but hopeful.

You pull her in for a kiss, your lips lingering on hers. "Definitely not," you murmur against her mouth. "Unless you want it to be?"

"No!" she says quickly, then blushes, her cheeks turning a cute shade of pink. "I mean... I really like you. Like, really really like you."

You smile, your heart swelling in your chest. "Good, because I really really like you too," you say. "Even when you're not dressed as an elf."

She groans, hiding her face in your neck. "Are you ever going to let me live that down?" she mumbles, her voice muffled.

You chuckle, your arms tightening around her. "Nope. It's how we met, it's part of our love story now."

She goes still in your arms, her body tensing slightly.

"Love story?" She asks

Shit. Too soon? You think to yourself, wondering if you've fucked up. But then she's beaming up at you with that bright smile that first caught your attention, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Yeah," you say softly. "Love story."

She kisses you again, pouring all her feelings into it. When she pulls back, her eyes are sparkling with happy tears. "Best Christmas present ever," she declares, her voice filled with joy.

[faebled-stories]

The Weight of Approval

Kinkvember Day 19: Facesitting

(G)-IDLE Cho Miyeon x Gender Neutral reader

11.7k words

It’s just another shift at the café—a grind that blurs together with yesterday and all the days before. The worn counters, the hum of the coffee machine, the clink of mismatched mugs—it’s all routine. The same cracked tiles beneath your feet, the same smudged menu board hanging above the register. The café isn’t much, tucked into the corner of a busy street, frequented more for convenience than ambiance. It’s the kind of place that serves as a pit stop for hurried commuters, not somewhere anyone lingers.

You barely register the motions anymore. Each cup you fill, every polite smile you force, feels like another tick of the clock until your shift ends. But even then, that only means returning to your tiny apartment—three floors up in a creaky, aging building where the walls are thin, and the heater groans louder than it works. Inside, there’s a stack of unopened bills on the kitchen counter, a fridge that hums louder than it cools, and shelves lined with little more than ramen packets and canned soup. Payday is still a week away, and you’ve already done the math—it won’t stretch far enough.

Every month is the same. Rent looms like a guillotine, always just one mistake away from coming down. The café job was supposed to be temporary, just something to cover the basics until you landed something better. But “temporary” stretched into months, and now it feels like a trap, closing in around you as the bills keep piling higher. Nights at your other job—a late shift at a dingy convenience store—blur into exhaustion. Between the two jobs, sleep is a luxury, and dreams? Those have been shelved for “later,” though you’re no longer sure when “later” will come.

The bell above the door rings, jolting you from your thoughts. It’s automatic to glance up, expecting a regular with their usual small talk and routine order. Instead, she walks in.

The woman is striking, her presence undeniable from the moment she steps inside. Everything about her is sharp and precise, from the tailored fit of her sleek black suit to the effortless grace in her stride. The glint of her designer heels catches the dull light of the café, momentarily outshining the worn surroundings. Her dark sunglasses obscure her eyes, but you feel the weight of her gaze, like she’s sizing up the entire room in a single sweep. She’s out of place here, like a panther wandering into a pet shop.

She doesn’t wait in line. Instead, she glides directly to the counter, her movements fluid and purposeful, ignoring the subtle whispers and curious glances from the few other patrons.

“I’ll take my usual,” she says, her voice low and polished, each word perfectly enunciated.

You blink, caught off guard. There’s an air of expectation in her tone, as though her usual should be obvious. For a second, you feel like you’ve failed an unspoken test, unable to recall what she’s asking for. “I—uh—I’m not sure what your usual is…”

Her sunglasses slide down just enough for you to see her eyes. They’re sharp and assessing, a piercing gaze that seems to cut straight through you. “Is there a problem?” The question is more of a challenge than a clarification, her tone daring you to falter.

Before you can stammer out an apology, your coworker Minnie steps in, her movements quick and anxious. “I’ll take care of it,” she says, her voice soft and hurried. She doesn’t look at you as she nudges you aside, her trembling hands already reaching for the espresso machine.

The woman steps back, folding her arms as she waits. Her gaze, however, doesn’t leave you. It’s piercing and unrelenting, a quiet power that feels suffocating. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t need to—her presence alone commands the room.

Minnie works quickly, though her nervousness is evident. She fumbles slightly with the milk, spilling a few drops as she pours. When the drink is finally ready, she hesitates, glancing at the woman as if trying to gauge her mood. After a tense moment, Minnie takes a deep breath, picks up the cup, and walks it over.

You watch as she offers the drink, her posture stiff, like she’s bracing for something. The woman leans in slightly, inspecting the cup with the precision of a jeweler examining a diamond. She murmurs something, soft and deliberate, but her eyes remain locked on you.

Minnie freezes for a beat, her shoulders tightening before she nods and turns back toward you, her steps quick and unsteady. Her face is pale, her usual cheerful expression replaced with unease.

“She…” Minnie begins, her voice barely above a whisper as she sets the cup down on the counter in front of you. Her hands fidget with her apron. “She wants you to bring it to her.”

You glance at Minnie, confused. “Me? Why?”

Minnie shakes her head, her eyes wide. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “But you should just do it. Don’t… don’t upset her.”

The anxiety in Minnie’s voice sends a chill down your spine, but there’s no time to question it. The woman hasn’t moved. Her gaze is fixed on you, calm and unwavering, yet it carries a weight that feels oppressive, like a predator sizing up its prey.

You pick up the cup, its warmth doing little to steady your trembling hands, and step toward her. Each movement feels deliberate, exaggerated by the tension in the air. Her eyes track your every step, sharp and unrelenting, leaving you feeling utterly exposed. The café’s noise—the hum of the coffee machine, the soft chatter of patrons—fades into a dull background buzz as all your focus narrows on her.

When you’re close enough, you extend the cup toward her, your pulse hammering in your ears. Her fingers brush yours as she takes it, her touch cool and fleeting, yet it sends a shiver racing through you. Her lips curl into a faint smile—small, deliberate, and unsettling, like she’s amused by some private joke you’re not in on.

“Well aren’t you adorable,” she murmurs, her voice low and smooth, with just enough of an edge to leave you unsure if it’s a compliment or a taunt. Her gaze lingers on you, unhurried, peeling back invisible layers like she’s already learned more about you than you’d ever willingly share.

You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat as she tilts her head slightly, her expression shifting into something closer to curiosity—or is it calculation?

“How would you like to earn some extra money?” she asks, her tone casual yet deliberate, as if the question is part of a test.

The words land like a thunderclap, unexpected and disarming. You blink, caught off guard, the full weight of her presence pressing down on you as the question hangs in the air. The answer should be obvious—of course you do. You think of the bills piling up on your kitchen counter, the hollow ache in your stomach from skipping meals, and the rent looming over you like a storm cloud. But there’s something about the way she asks, something that makes your pulse race with more than just hope.

“I—uh…” Your voice wavers, and you hesitate, but the intensity of her gaze pushes you to nod, slowly at first, then more firmly. “Sure.”

Her smile deepens, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Instead, there’s a flicker of satisfaction, like she’s just confirmed something she already knew. She reaches into her purse with a deliberate, practiced motion and pulls out a business card. The action feels almost ceremonial as she hands it to you with a lazy grace. The card is pristine and minimalist: Ascend International. Cho Miyeon, CEO.

“Come to this address at 8 pm tonight,” she says, her tone smooth and unyielding. “Don’t be late.”

You glance down at the card in your hand, its edges crisp and cool against your fingertips. The weight of it feels disproportionate to its size, like it’s a key to a door you’re not sure you’re ready to open.

Her gaze flickers down to your mouth, and for a moment, she pauses, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as if an idea has just occurred to her. “Stick your tongue out,” she says suddenly.

The request catches you so off guard that you hesitate, unsure if you’ve heard her correctly. But her expression remains unchanged—no humor, no patience, only expectation. The air between you feels heavy, charged, as if she’s testing you.

Against every instinct, you comply, your face heating as you stick out your tongue. You feel ridiculous, exposed, yet there’s a compulsion in her gaze that makes resistance impossible. She studies you for a beat, her smirk deepening in satisfaction before she straightens, her presence as composed and commanding as ever.

“Good,” she murmurs, almost to herself, before turning and striding out of the café, her movements fluid and unhurried, like someone who always gets exactly what they want.

As the door swings shut behind her, Minnie sidles up beside you, her voice low and shaky. “You… you have no idea who she is, do you?”

You shake your head, your fingers clutching the card tightly. “No. Should I?”

Minnie’s eyes widen, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced by something cautious, almost fearful. “Cho Miyeon,” she whispers, glancing toward the door as if expecting her to walk back in. “She owns half this city. If she wants something from you…” She trails off, shaking her head. “Just don’t screw it up. People don’t usually get second chances with her.”

You look down at the card again, its elegant design somehow intimidating. It feels out of place in your hands, like it belongs in a world far removed from your own. Yet, as the weight of her gaze lingers in your mind, you think about your reality—your landlord’s last warning, the meals you’ve skipped, the endless grind of multiple jobs that never seem to be enough.

Maybe this is the kind of risk you need to take.

If you can survive it

-----

Stepping into Ascend International’s headquarters feels like stepping into another world. The building itself is a towering monolith of glass and steel, its sleek facade reflecting the city skyline with an almost arrogant perfection. The sheer scale of it is intimidating, a symbol of power that dominates the horizon, making everything around it feel insignificant by comparison.

The lobby is no less imposing. It’s cavernous, every surface polished to a mirror-like gleam. The pristine marble floors stretch out endlessly, their subtle veining shimmering under the soft, calculated lighting. Minimalist artwork, abstract yet commanding, adorns the high walls, while brushed metal accents catch the light in subtle, expensive flashes. It’s a space that whispers sophistication but demands reverence, as if even the air inside has been curated for those who belong.

The people moving through the lobby only add to the sense that you’re out of place. They stride with purpose, their designer suits immaculate, their gazes fixed straight ahead as if they’re always on the brink of something important. No one lingers. No one hesitates. Everyone here seems to belong, moving in seamless synchronization, like pieces in a machine that runs on ambition and authority.

Clutching the business card Miyeon gave you, you force yourself to breathe steadily as you approach the reception desk. It looms ahead of you, an enormous slab of black marble so flawless it seems to absorb the light around it. Its size and stark design make you feel even smaller, dwarfed not just by the desk but by the sheer magnitude of the world you’ve just stepped into.

Behind the desk sits a young woman, impeccably dressed and exuding the kind of confidence that only comes from being part of something this powerful. Her name tag reads Song Yuqi, but it’s her sharp eyes that capture your attention. They snap up the moment you approach, and in a single, sweeping glance, she seems to assess everything about you—your clothes, your posture, the nervous energy you can’t quite suppress. It’s a look that feels both brisk and invasive, as if she’s already reached a conclusion before you’ve even spoken.

“Hi, I’m here for an interview with Ms. Cho,” you manage to say, though your voice sounds smaller than you’d like. You straighten your posture, hoping it’ll help mask the nervous tension tightening in your chest.

Yuqi’s lips twitch into a faint smirk, a flicker of amusement crossing her otherwise polished demeanor. “Oh, I know what this is about,” she says, her tone light and almost playful. Her gaze drifts over you again, slower this time, adding an unsettling layer of scrutiny. It’s as if she’s sizing you up for something you’re not privy to, enjoying a private joke at your expense.

Without another word, she opens a drawer with precise, practiced movements and pulls out a slim stack of papers. She hands them to you with a flick of her wrist, her smile deepening as though she’s waiting for your reaction. “Here,” she says, the amusement in her voice unmistakable. “You’ll need to sign this.”

You glance down at the papers, your breath catching as your eyes skim the first few lines. The text reads: Employment Contract. The words jump out at you—personal assistant, non-disclosure agreement, exclusive services—but most of the document is dense with legal jargon that blurs together as your eyes dart across the page. Then, a number leaps out at you—the salary.

It’s staggering. More money than you’ve ever made in your life. More than you’d even dared to dream of earning, even after years of grinding through multiple shifts and sleepless nights. For a moment, the weight of it all hits you at once: no more overdue bills, no more rationing groceries or waking up in a cold sweat over rent. This could change everything.

You glance back at Yuqi, who’s watching you with that same faint smirk, her amusement sharpening as if she can read every thought racing through your mind. There’s something unnerving about how much she seems to know—like she’s been expecting you to react this way all along.

Your hand hesitates over the contract. Rationally, you know this is unusual. Signing a contract before even meeting with Miyeon feels strange, almost reckless. But the rational part of you is quickly drowned out by the sheer allure of the number staring back at you. Slowly, almost dreamlike, you pick up the pen and sign your name. It feels surreal, like you’re crossing an invisible threshold into a world you’re not sure you belong in.

When you look up, Yuqi’s smirk has widened, her amusement shifting into something sharper, almost predatory. She takes the papers from you with a practiced efficiency, her fingers grazing yours briefly before she sets them aside. “Top floor,” she says, her voice smooth and a little too cheerful. “Room 2601. Don’t keep her waiting.”

You nod, your throat too tight to respond, and turn toward the elevator bank. As you walk away, Yuqi’s voice trails after you, light and teasing but with a faint edge of something you can’t quite place. “Good luck,” she calls, her tone carrying a hint of pity that sends a shiver down your spine.

As you press the elevator button, the weight of what just happened settles over you. The sleek lobby, the polished marble, the silent power radiating from every corner of this place—it all feels like it’s pressing down on you, reminding you of how small and out of place you are. Yet, in your hand, the signed contract feels heavier than it should, a reminder of the door you’ve just opened.

After stepping into the elevator, the doors glide shut with a smooth finality, sealing you off from the world below. Yuqi’s soft chuckle lingers in your mind, faint yet cutting, like the echo of something you can’t quite grasp. Was she mocking you? Warning you? The question gnaws at you, but there’s no time to dwell on it.

The elevator begins its ascent, smoothly but at an unnerving speed, and each floor that flashes by on the display only amplifies your anxiety. By the time you reach the top floor, your heart is pounding, each beat echoing in your ears.

The doors open with a soft chime, and you step out into a long, dimly lit hallway. It’s strikingly different from the bright, bustling lobby below—quiet, almost unnaturally so, with thick carpeting that muffles your footsteps. Floor-to-ceiling windows line one side of the hall, offering a sweeping view of Seoul’s glittering cityscape far below, the lights sprawling endlessly in the night. The silence is profound, almost oppressive, heightening the tension coiling within you.

At the end of the hallway, a single door waits: Room 2601. The numbers gleam in brushed silver, unassuming yet undeniably foreboding.

You approach the door slowly, each step making your breath come shorter, the weight of anticipation settling heavily on your shoulders. Reaching the door, you raise a hand, hesitate for just a moment, then knock. The sound is barely more than a whisper against the thick, quiet air. Then you wait, each second stretching out into tense silence, your mind racing as you imagine the woman behind the door—the woman who is already reshaping the course of your life with a single, strange offer.

Finally, the door opens. Miyeon stands there, poised and composed, her gaze sharp enough to cut through the tension you’ve built up in your mind. Her presence fills the room instantly, commanding and undeniable. The tailored lines of her outfit emphasize her power, every detail of her appearance deliberate, perfected. She doesn’t say anything at first; her cool, assessing eyes are enough to strip you of any lingering confidence.

“Did you sign the contract?” she cuts the silence, her tone calm but unyielding, the question landing with an air of finality. Her gaze doesn’t waver as she waits for your response, clearly expecting nothing less than the truth.

“Yes, Ms. Cho,” you reply automatically, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nervous tightness in your chest.

A faint, almost predatory smile touches her lips, curving with just enough subtlety to unsettle you. “Good.” She takes a step closer, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. The weight of her gaze feels unbearable, as though she’s deciding whether you’re even worth the moment she’s spending on you. “Let’s begin your orientation,” she says smoothly, though there’s something in her tone that makes it feel less like an introduction and more like a trial.

You nod, swallowing hard, trying to push down the uncertainty tightening in your stomach. She watches you for a moment longer, as though savoring your discomfort, then parts her lips, her words delivered with meticulous precision.

“I need to know if you’re capable of handling my needs—whatever they may be,” she says, each syllable deliberately enunciated. Her eyes stay locked on yours as she takes another step forward, her voice low and unyielding. “This position demands complete obedience and total surrender. Is that clear?”

Her words hang in the air, their weight almost suffocating. You hesitate, the gravity of her demand pressing against you. “You…want me to surrender?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, exposing the crack in your resolve.

A flicker of disappointment crosses her face, quick and sharp, like a blade slicing through your hesitation. “Yes.” Her tone is calm, yet there’s an edge to it that leaves no room for misunderstanding. “If you want to work for me, I expect unquestioning compliance.”

She lets the silence stretch, forcing you to absorb the weight of her words, her gaze unrelenting. Then, her expression hardens slightly, and her voice lowers, smooth and controlled. “Do you understand?”

You nod quickly, a flush of heat rising to your cheeks. “Yes, Ms. Cho.”

She pauses, her eyes narrowing further, as if testing your sincerity. Then, with a measured look, she speaks again. “Good. Fetch the bench from the corner.”

The command catches you off guard, but her tone leaves no room for hesitation. You glance around quickly, spotting the object she means. The bench’s design immediately captures your attention—sleek and purposeful, with polished steel legs and padded leather cushions. Its unique height and tilted headrest stand out, clearly crafted with precision, though its exact purpose escapes you. There’s an air of deliberate intent in its construction, as if it was made for something specific, yet unknown to you.

Miyeon’s gaze remains fixed on you as you approach the bench. The weight of her stare makes you hyper-aware of your movements as you grip the sides of the bench and carefully drag it to the center of the room. The polished floor amplifies the sound of the legs sliding into place, each scrape making your pulse quicken. The act feels symbolic, a deliberate display of your compliance, and the tension between you thickens with every passing moment.

When you’ve positioned it where she wants, you glance back at her uncertainty. Her expression remains unreadable, but the faint quirk of her lips suggests satisfaction. She steps closer, her heels clicking softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

“Lie down,” she commands, her voice calm yet leaving no room for doubt.

The words catch you again, and you hesitate for a brief moment, your body instinctively stiffening. “Ms. Cho, I—what exactly do you mean by…?”

Her gaze sharpens instantly, silencing you with a single look. Her voice, deceptively soft, cuts through the air like a blade. “Are you questioning me again?” she asks, her tone laced with challenge. “I thought you understood what surrender means. Lie down. Now.”

Her words land with finality, and you feel a flush of shame rise at your hesitation. Swallowing hard, you nod and lower yourself onto the bench, the cool leather pressing against your back as you settle in. The elevated headrest cradles your head, tilting your face upward as though the bench itself is positioning you for her. The chill of the leather seeps into your skin, grounding you in the moment, while the faint scent of her perfume lingers in the air, mingling with the tension that fills the room.

Miyeon steps closer, standing above you, her presence towering, her gaze unbroken. Slowly, deliberately, she reaches down and hikes her skirt up to her hips, revealing toned thighs and the delicate edge of lace. Her movements are smooth, calculated, as if every motion is part of a performance meant to remind you of your place. She slips her panties to the side with practiced ease, her poise never faltering, and positions herself above you.

Her movements are deliberate as she lowers herself onto the bench, aligning her body perfectly with yours. The height of the bench leaves her perfectly positioned—not too low, ensuring her weight presses against you with satisfying firmness, yet not so high that she feels unsupported. The angle of your head allows her to settle fully, her thighs bracketing your face as her warmth and presence close in around you. The air feels thick with her scent—rich, musky, and faintly floral—flooding your senses and leaving your head spinning before she’s even settled fully.

Leaning forward, she braces herself on the bottom of the headrest, her hands naturally finding the spots perfectly molded for her grip. The design seems intentional, as if tailored for this very moment. Her fingers tighten briefly as she steadies herself, her gaze flicking down to meet yours. There’s no softness in her expression, only a sharp, expectant coolness that cuts through the haze clouding your mind.

“Stay still,” she murmurs, her voice calm but carrying the weight of command. The words feel like a seal on the moment, binding you to her expectations. Then, with deliberate ease, she presses down, enveloping you completely.

Your world narrows to her—the pressure, the weight, the intoxicating heat of her body as it moves against you. Tentatively, you extend your tongue, pressing it to her for the first time. Her taste floods your senses, earthy and rich, tinged with the saltiness of her skin. It’s overwhelming, disorienting, but also grounding, her presence completely consuming every thought, every breath. Encouraged by the faint shift of her hips, you try again, moving with more intention. You let your tongue trace slow, deliberate strokes, convinced you’re finding the rhythm she expects.

Her thighs press firmly against your head, creating a perfect seal that traps you beneath her. The leather of the bench beneath you feels immovable, your position leaving you utterly at her mercy. With her weight pressing down, each inhale becomes a struggle, your breaths reduced to shallow pulls of air through your nose—and every one of them is filled with her. Her scent is heady, musky, and floral, a potent blend that seeps into your senses and clouds your thoughts. It feels like you’re breathing her in completely, your lungs filled with nothing but her presence.

Her body feels warm, responsive, as though she’s relaxing against you, her hips beginning to move in slow, deliberate rolls. The grind of her pelvis against your face is measured, controlled, and demanding, and you adjust your movements instinctively, matching her pace. Her thighs tighten subtly around your head, holding you even more firmly in place, leaving no room for error, no room for escape. You feel every shift, every slight increase in pressure, and interpret it as a signal that you’re doing something right.

The faint tension in her breathing seems to deepen, her exhalations growing slightly louder, and you take it as a sign to focus more, to give her exactly what she needs. You adjust your tongue, letting it trace patterns you think she’ll enjoy, responding to the subtle cues in the way her hips shift. Her warmth spreads against you, slick and inviting, and you press more firmly, convinced you’re making progress, that she’s responding to your efforts.

Her scent grows stronger, mingling with the heat radiating from her skin, and you lose yourself in the rhythm she’s setting. Each movement feels purposeful, deliberate, as if you’re aligning perfectly with her desires. Her faint exhalations become the only sound you can hear, soft and measured, a quiet reward that urges you to keep going, to match her pace with precision. Her thighs flex against your head, squeezing slightly, and her hips grind down harder, forcing you to adjust to her increasing demands.

Trapped between her thighs, the pressure becomes all-encompassing, the weight of her pressing down leaving you barely able to think beyond her. Each inhale feels heavier, as though her scent is suffocating you in the most intoxicating way. You pour everything into your movements, your tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles, convinced that her silence is approval, that the steady roll of her hips means you’ve found exactly what she wants.

The seconds stretch into minutes, your efforts intensifying as her body shifts with increasing deliberation. The grind of her hips becomes more insistent, demanding, and you press harder, moving your tongue with more purpose. The pressure of her weight feels all-encompassing, her thighs gripping your head tightly, leaving you immobile, entirely at her mercy. You focus entirely on her, responding to her every movement, certain that you’re meeting her expectations.

Then, you feel it—a subtle, unmistakable slickness spreading against your tongue. It’s warm, intoxicating, and sends a jolt of confidence through you. Her arousal feels like confirmation, a silent acknowledgment that you’re doing something right. You match her movements with renewed focus, interpreting the growing wetness as proof of your success.

But then, without warning, her weight lifts.

The sudden loss of pressure is startling, disorienting, and you blink against the light as your eyes flutter open. The brightness of the room feels blinding, a harsh contrast to the cocoon of warmth and scent you’d been engulfed in. Her essence still lingers heavily in the air, clinging to you, intoxicating, making your head spin like you’ve been drinking something far too strong.

“Wait…” you murmur, the word slipping out unbidden as she rises fully. Without thinking, you push upward, your body instinctively trying to follow hers, desperate to maintain the contact, to hold onto the sensation. You feel drunk, untethered, and you try to lift your head toward her, as if that alone could pull her back down.

But Miyeon moves with calm, dismissive ease, pulling her skirt down and smoothing it into place with the same practiced precision she began with. She steps off the bench, her movements steady and composed, as though what just happened was a passing thought, nothing more than a fleeting interruption.

Her expression remains untouched by the moment, her gaze sharp and appraising as she looks down at you. The cool detachment in her eyes feels like a splash of cold water, banishing the haze that had clouded your mind. The confidence you felt just moments ago evaporates as she folds her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Time’s up,” she says smoothly, her tone businesslike, almost bored. There’s no emotion, no warmth in her voice, as though she’s closing a meeting rather than commenting on your performance.

You sit up slowly, your body unsteady, your breath uneven as you try to process what just happened. The remnants of her scent and taste cling to you, making your head feel light, dizzy, as though you’re still intoxicated by her presence. Your mind clings desperately to the moments when you thought she was responding—the subtle shifts, the pressing weight of her hips, the slick warmth of her against you. You were so sure you’d succeeded, but the cold finality of her words shatters that illusion.

Miyeon steps back, her expression unchanging as she watches you. Her gaze remains fixed, cool and detached, giving nothing away. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating, as you wait for her to say something, anything, that might redeem the moment.

But she doesn’t. Her stance, her tone, her movements—all of it makes one thing clear: you’ve fallen short.

Her silence stretches, heavy and oppressive, before she finally speaks.

“You get a C,” she says, her voice unhurried, calm, and somehow all the more cutting for it. Each word lands with surgical precision, slicing through the hope you’d just started to build. Her tone is devoid of emotion, her expression cold and detached, as though grading a forgettable report. “You missed the mark entirely.”

The words feel like a punch, knocking the breath from your lungs. You stare at her, struggling to process, grappling with the sudden weight of failure. “You’re giving me a…C? But I thought—I felt you get wet, Ms. Cho. I thought…”

Her eyes narrow just slightly, enough to silence you before you can finish. The room feels colder as her gaze sharpens, pinning you in place.

“Did you?” she replies, her tone so detached it feels clinical. “Just because my body has natural reactions doesn’t mean you were doing anything remarkable. Don’t confuse basic biological responses with skill.”

Her words hit like ice water, cutting through the fog of your confusion and hope. She takes a step closer, her presence looming, her expression hardening as she begins to dissect your performance with brutal precision.

“Your efforts lacked strength,” she begins, her voice carrying a steely edge. “Your tongue was weak—unfocused. No rhythm, no consistency. I set a pace for you, and you couldn’t even manage that.”

She pauses, letting the words sink in, her critical gaze sweeping over you as though she’s already dismissed you. The weight of her disappointment presses down harder than her thighs ever did.

“And you completely ignored my clit,” she continues, her tone growing colder, harsher, each syllable cutting deeper. “I practically guided you there, made it obvious, yet somehow, you missed the most important part.” Her lips curl into a faint smirk, but there’s no humor in it, only a razor-sharp derision. “I even grinded myself against you, practically handing you the answer, and still, you failed to deliver.”

Her words are relentless, brutal. Each one dissects a flaw you hadn’t even realized, exposing every weak point you thought you’d hidden. It’s as if she’s stripping you down to the core, piece by piece, revealing everything you couldn’t see in yourself.

She takes a measured step back, her voice dropping lower, colder. “The bare minimum,” she says, enunciating each word with icy precision, “is to make me cum. And you couldn’t even come close to doing that.”

The words hit like a hammer, reverberating in the silence that follows. The finality in her tone leaves no room for argument, no possibility for redemption. Her gaze remains fixed on you, sharp and unwavering, her disappointment so palpable it feels like it’s physically crushing you.

“I don’t need someone who merely tries,” she continues, her tone growing colder still, like frost spreading across the room. “I need someone who performs, who instinctively understands what I require without me having to spell it out. Excellence isn’t negotiable in this position.

The words leave you hollow, your confidence shattered under the force of her critique. Each syllable lands with precision, tearing apart every scrap of pride or hope you’d felt during the act. The air feels suffocating, thick with the weight of her disappointment.

“Please, Ms. Cho,” you manage, forcing the words out even as a lump rises in your throat. “Give me another chance. I can do better—I’ll work on everything you said, I’ll improve if you just—”

She raises a hand, cutting you off, her expression turning to stone. The gesture alone silences you, her gaze cold and unrelenting.

“There won’t be another chance,” she states, the words cold and final. “Not here. I don’t invest my time in mediocrity.”

Her dismissal feels absolute. Her attention shifts away from you, as though you’re no longer worth a moment of her time. She steps back to her desk, picking up a pen with the same calm precision she’s shown all evening, and resumes her work without so much as a glance in your direction. The sound of the pen scratching against paper feels deafening in the silence.

“You may leave,” she says coolly, her tone as unyielding as stone. “This position requires skill, precision, instinct—and you’ve shown none of those.”

The words hang heavy in the air, sharp and final, cutting through the silence like a gavel. Your body feels frozen in place, unable to move as the weight of her judgment presses down on you. Slowly, numbly, you rise, your legs unsteady beneath you, your chest tight with the sting of failure.

Each step toward the door feels heavier than the last, your mind replaying her critique with relentless clarity. The sharpness of her dismissal leaves you feeling stripped bare, your confidence shattered completely. You’d thought you’d done well, thought you’d sensed her responding, but her cold, clinical analysis has left no room for doubt. You fell short—entirely.

As you reach the door, you glance back once, hoping for even a flicker of warmth or reconsideration in her expression. But Miyeon’s gaze remains fixed on her paperwork, her focus already shifted, as though you’ve ceased to exist in her world.

You leave, her scent and the weight of her words lingering heavily in the air around you, each step away from her office feeling like another layer of failure pressing down.

The weight of her words settles heavily in the silence that follows, each one lingering in the air like a closing door. You stand, feeling hollow, the sting of failure biting deep. Each step toward the door feels impossibly heavy, as if you’re dragging your very sense of self along with you. Her critique replays in your mind, each cutting line driving the shame and disappointment deeper. By the time you reach the door, her dismissal has stripped you of whatever pride you had left, leaving you exposed and aching with the sting of her judgment.

As you step out of the building, the scent of her perfume still clings to the air around you, subtle but intoxicating. Her taste lingers on your lips, and her piercing gaze haunts your thoughts, replaying again and again with relentless clarity. You can’t stop thinking about every moment, every mistake, every opportunity you missed. Her words echo in your mind, each replay stinging more than the last, but beneath the pain and disappointment, something else lingers—a pull, an inexplicable need.

There’s something magnetic about her, something that refuses to let go. The effortless authority she carried, the way she dismissed you without a second glance—it’s intoxicating, a force that leaves you restless, unsettled. The intensity of her presence lingers, drawing you back even as the humiliation burns. Somehow, you want another chance, not to prove yourself to anyone else but to her—to earn her approval, to be exactly what she demanded.

-----

The morning after that unforgettable Monday encounter with Miyeon, you wake with her still lingering in your mind—her voice, her scent, the calm precision with which she had dismissed you. The memory of her critique, her unyielding detachment, plays over and over, cutting deeper each time. Somehow, she has taken root in your thoughts, filling them in a way you can’t ignore. Her essence lingers—not just a memory but something that feels alive, woven into every corner of your mind, unrelenting and impossible to shake.

The café where you usually spend your mornings feels miles away, though it’s just down the block. Instead of showing up to your shift, you find yourself sitting at your small kitchen table, staring blankly at your phone, waiting for something—anything—that might offer a way forward. The thought of pouring coffee, of going through the motions while she dominates your thoughts, feels unbearable.

By late morning, desperation pushes you to try a respectful, measured call to her office. Yuqi’s voice is professional, polite, and painfully impersonal. You introduce yourself, forcing your tone to stay steady even as urgency tinges every word.

“I wanted to see if Ms. Cho might be open to reconsidering…” you begin, your heart pounding with every syllable. “I know I didn’t meet her expectations, but if I could just speak with her, I’m sure I could—”

“She’s made her decision,” Yuqi replies with finality, her words cool and unyielding. “Ms. Cho has a very clear standard.”

The line goes silent, and you’re left holding the phone, the emptiness pressing down on you like a weight. Your heart sinks, but the idea of giving up feels unbearable. That night, you sit down at your desk, composing an email that takes far longer than it should. Every word feels inadequate, yet you pour your sincerity into each sentence. You admit your mistakes, express your deep respect for her, and humbly ask for another chance. As you hit send, you close your eyes and release a shaky breath, hoping your words will reach her, that she’ll sense your sincerity.

By the next morning, there’s no reply. The café calls to ask if you’re coming in, but you barely register the message. You can’t go back—not yet. The silence from Miyeon feels sharper now, amplifying your anxiety. Without thinking twice, you call her office again. This time, your tone carries a quiet urgency, though you fight to keep it professional.

“I understand Ms. Cho’s standards are high,” you say softly, your voice earnest, almost pleading. “But I know I can meet them. I just need a chance to show her.”

The rest of the day drags, heavy with unanswered questions. As evening falls, you find yourself composing another email, this time rawer, more vulnerable. You lay everything bare—your mistakes, your desire to improve, and just how much this opportunity means to you. With trembling hands, you hit send, feeling both exposed and hopeful.

By midweek, the desperation gnaws at you like a dull ache that refuses to leave. Miyeon has somehow consumed your every thought. Her presence is no longer just a memory—it feels like she’s there, looming in the edges of your mind, controlling your every emotion. Her scent, her voice, her unyielding control—they haunt you in the quiet moments, filling your chest with a weight that grows heavier with each passing day.

You’ve stopped checking your work schedule entirely. The thought of being surrounded by noise and chatter while Miyeon’s critique echoes in your mind is unbearable. It’s as if nothing else matters but reaching her, proving yourself worthy of her attention, her approval.

That afternoon, you decide to go in person. Nerves buzz under your skin as you step into the sleek lobby of Ascend International, the company’s towering headquarters. Yuqi greets you at the desk with a polite but distant smile, her practiced professionalism impossible to crack.

“Hi,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m here to leave a message for Ms. Cho. I’d like to speak with her if she’s available.”

Her smile doesn’t waver, though there’s a flicker of sympathy in her eyes. “I’ll be sure she receives your message,” she says with polite finality.

As you walk away, hope mingles with dread. You tell yourself she must know—must feel—how far you’re willing to go to prove yourself. It’s impossible to imagine her being unaware of your persistence, of how deeply she’s embedded herself into your thoughts. Yet the silence continues to gnaw at you, relentless in its clarity.

Thursday passes in a haze. You leave another voicemail, your voice trembling with the weight of your growing need.

“Please,” you say softly, almost whispering into the receiver. “I know I fell short. But if she would just allow me one more chance, I won’t disappoint her.”

The intensity of your plea surprises even you, but at this point, pride is irrelevant. You’d give anything just for the chance to redeem yourself. As you leave the office, you find yourself in the lobby once more, hoping for even the faintest sign of acknowledgment. Yuqi looks at you with that same polite sympathy, her small kindness like a bitter reminder that you’re clinging to something fragile.

By Friday morning, the week’s silence feels unbearable. Every unanswered call, every unread email, weighs on you like a sentence passed. Miyeon’s critique plays in your mind with brutal clarity, her voice sharp and cutting as she dismisses you. It’s as if she left a part of herself with you, tethering you to her, drawing you back no matter how much it stings. You can’t let her go, and yet you fear that every effort has been futile.

Then, just when your resolve begins to waver, your phone rings. The unknown number on the screen sends your pulse racing, and you answer with shaky hands.

“Ms. Cho has agreed to see you,” Yuqi announces, her tone brisk and efficient. “Tonight at 8 p.m. sharp. Do not be late.”

Relief crashes over you like a wave, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and gratitude. You’ve been granted another chance—a chance to prove yourself, to rise to her impossible standards. As you hang up, the tension that has consumed you all week begins to dissipate, replaced by a renewed determination. Tonight, everything will change

-----

By 7:30 p.m., you’re pacing in the sleek lobby of Ascend International, nerves thrumming under your skin like a live wire. The building’s towering glass walls reflect the city’s lights, casting long shadows across the pristine marble floor. Yuqi sits at her desk, her posture casual yet poised, her sharp eyes occasionally flicking up to you as you move restlessly.

When the clock hits 7:40, you finally gather the courage to approach her desk. Yuqi’s gaze snaps to you, her lips curving into a faint smirk as she leans forward slightly, her tone light and teasing. “Nervous?” she asks, though it’s clear she already knows the answer.

You nod, swallowing hard. “She’s expecting me,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady, though it cracks slightly under the weight of your nerves.

Yuqi doesn’t hide her amusement. “Oh, I know,” she replies, her tone bordering on playful, though there’s something sharp beneath it. She taps a perfectly manicured nail against her desk before gesturing toward the elevator. “Same room. You’re cutting it close, so I’d suggest moving quickly. Miyeon’s not known for her patience.”

Her words make your pulse quicken, and you nod quickly, stepping toward the elevator. But just as the doors slide open, Yuqi calls out, her voice dropping into something almost conspiratorial. “Good luck,” she says, a hint of mock pity in her tone. “You’ll need it.”

The elevator ride feels endless, the quiet hum of the machinery doing nothing to calm your racing thoughts. By the time you reach the top floor, your hands are trembling, and a bead of sweat rolls down your temple. You step out into a long, dimly lit hallway, its polished floors gleaming beneath your shoes. The door to Miyeon’s office looms at the end, imposing and unyielding, and you force yourself to move forward, each step heavier than the last.

At exactly 7:45, you’re standing outside Miyeon’s office. The weight of the moment presses down on you, suffocating, as you glance at the sleek double doors. This is it—the culmination of a week spent consumed by thoughts of her, by desperation, by the need to redeem yourself. Her dismissal on Monday has been looping in your mind, relentless and unforgiving, and you’ve been preparing for this moment every second since.

Taking a deep breath, you press your hand to the door and push it open.

The atmosphere inside Miyeon’s office is heavy, almost oppressive. Everything about the space exudes power, from the minimalist decor to the sharp angles of her desk.

Miyeon is seated behind it, her posture as precise as ever, her face unreadable. Tonight, though, there’s a sharpness to her expression, a tension in the way her hands rest on the desk. Her gaze lands on you the moment you step inside, freezing you in place. Her eyes are piercing, cutting straight through any pretense of confidence you’ve tried to muster.

“You’re back,” she says, her voice sharper than you remember, each word clipped and deliberate. The skepticism in her tone slices through the air, leaving no room for pretense. She lets the silence linger, her gaze unrelenting, before she adds, “I suppose you’re here to prove something.”

“Yes, Ms. Cho,” you manage, forcing yourself to stand taller, to appear more confident than you feel. Your voice is steady, but inside, you’re unraveling under her scrutiny. “I’m ready to meet your standards.”

Her lips curl into the faintest smirk, though it holds no warmth. If anything, it feels like a challenge, an unspoken test to see if you’ll falter. She stands slowly, her movements deliberate, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor as she rounds the desk. Every step feels measured, calculated, as if she’s sizing you up all over again.

When she reaches you, her gaze doesn’t waver. She tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. “You’ve had an entire week to think about Monday,” she says, her tone cool, almost conversational. “Tell me—what makes you think this time will be any different?”

You swallow hard, the question hitting you like a punch to the gut. “I’ve… I’ve thought about everything you said, Ms. Cho,” you reply, your voice quieter now, but no less determined. “I know I fell short, but I’ve prepared. I’m ready to prove that I can meet your expectations.”

Her eyes flicker, the faintest glimmer of something unreadable passing through them. She doesn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch until your nerves feel like they’re about to snap. Then, with a brisk motion, she gestures toward the center of the room.

“Then show me,” she says simply, her voice low but charged with authority. “And don’t waste my time.”

Without needing further instruction, you step toward the corner of the room where the bench waits, sleek and polished under the dim office lights. You retrieve it carefully, its weight familiar in your hands, and position it in the center of the room. The leather gleams, the elevated headrest perfectly angled for what you know is to come, designed to cradle you in place beneath her.

You lower yourself onto the bench, the leather cool and firm beneath you, grounding you as you settle into position. The headrest cradles your head, tilting your face upward in a way that leaves you open, exposed, perfectly aligned beneath her. Your breath quickens as Miyeon steps closer, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Each step feels deliberate, each sound echoing the weight of your expectations.

She stops just in front of you, her sharp gaze sweeping over you, calm and detached, as though calculating every detail. Without a word, she slips off her heels and sets them aside. Her fingers move to the hem of her skirt, gathering the fabric upward with fluid grace. Her thighs come into view, smooth and commanding, a contrast of elegance and strength. The edge of her lace panties teases at your vision before she moves them aside with a simple, routine motion.

Her scent—muskier, richer than you remembered—immediately fills the air. It’s overwhelming, a heady blend of something primal and intimate, saturating your senses as she steps forward and positions herself above you. It’s a smell that haunted you this entire week, lingering like an ache in the back of your mind. You’d tried to forget, to push it aside, but nothing could dull the memory of her—the way she consumed you so entirely, only to dismiss you without a second thought. Now, as her warmth radiates above you, it feels like you’re being granted water in a desert, but only if you can prove you’re worthy to drink.

When she lowers herself, her weight presses down fully, engulfing you in her presence. Her thighs press against your cheeks, trapping you completely beneath her. Each shallow breath you manage is filled entirely with her scent, and for a moment, you’re paralyzed by how familiar it feels, how much you’d been craving this. It’s as though the week of rejection, of begging for this chance, has only amplified your hunger. Nothing else could satisfy you but her.

Tentatively, you begin, pressing your tongue to her with slow, cautious strokes. Her taste fills your senses—earthy and rich, tinged with saltiness, intensely familiar and utterly consuming. The longing you’ve carried for days surges forward, and you push past your hesitation, tracing deliberate patterns as you adjust to the faint shifts of her body. Her warmth grows against you, and you focus entirely on her, on the faint signals she gives—the flex of her thighs, the subtle tilt of her hips.

Her breathing remains steady, restrained, and her body feels poised, in control, as if she’s still testing you. You move with more purpose, pressing your tongue more firmly, hoping to draw a reaction, to prove you’ve learned. Her hips begin to move slightly, setting a measured rhythm, and you match it, your tongue tracing careful circles in time with her movements.

Her thighs tighten slightly, holding you in place, and her warmth presses against you more firmly. For a fleeting moment, you think you’re succeeding, that you’re drawing her into the moment. But then, her weight begins to lift.

The change is subtle at first—the brief press of her thighs as they shift upward—but it’s enough to make your heart drop. Her warmth pulls away, leaving a sudden void that feels unbearable. Her expression is faintly impatient as she rises, her movements deliberate, as though confirming what she already suspected: that you’ve failed her again.

A horrible sense of déjà vu washes over you, sharp and unrelenting. The rejection from your first evaluation, the cold detachment in her voice, all come rushing back, amplifying the ache in your chest. The memory of that moment has haunted you all week, and now it feels as though it’s happening all over again. Panic claws at you, raw and immediate.

Her voice cuts through the silence, low and unimpressed. “I see you haven’t learned anything.”

The words slice through you, sharp and final, and desperation surges in their wake. You can’t let her leave—not again. Before she can move further, you reach up, your hands trembling as they find her hips, gently but firmly holding her in place. Your lips brush against her folds, pressing soft, pleading kisses that linger just a moment longer than they should.

“Please, Ms. Cho,” you whisper against her, your voice breaking. “Don’t leave. I know I can do better. Please—just let me try.”

She doesn’t move. You press another kiss to her, slower this time, the desperation in you mounting. “Please,” you murmur, your voice shaking. “I need this. I need to show you. I won’t fail you.”

Another kiss. She doesn’t lower herself, doesn’t speak, and the silence feels crushing. Your kisses grow more frantic, more desperate, your lips trembling as you pour every ounce of pleading into them.

“Don’t go,” you whisper between kisses, your voice cracking with emotion. “Please, Ms. Cho. I’ll do anything—just give me this chance. Let me prove I can please you.”

You press another kiss, and this time it lingers, your lips soft and reverent against her warmth. “Please…” you murmur again, the word barely audible, carrying the weight of everything you’ve felt this past week—the sleepless nights, the ache in your chest, the obsessive need to have this moment again.

For a moment, the air is suffocatingly still. Her body remains poised above you, her thighs tense, her piercing gaze boring into yours, unreadable and unwavering. You’re left hanging, each second dragging painfully as you wait for her to decide if your pleading, your desperation, is enough.

Finally, she shifts, lowering herself back down slowly, deliberately. Her weight settles on you again with a quiet finality, her thighs bracketing your face and trapping you completely beneath her warmth. Her presence floods your senses again, her scent, her taste, her closeness—more consuming now, more intense after nearly losing it.

“Continue,” she says, her tone clipped and cold, leaving no room for hesitation. “This is your last chance.”

Her words settle heavily in the air, fueling your determination. She lowers herself slowly, her weight pressing down on you with deliberate command. Her warmth engulfs you completely, her thighs framing your head, trapping you in place. Her scent surrounds you—intense, musky, and deeply familiar, stirring the longing that had haunted you since her rejection. This is your moment, your chance to prove yourself, and you won’t squander it.

You press your tongue to her carefully at first, savoring the sensation. Her taste floods your senses—earthy, slightly salty, and utterly her. It’s overwhelming, a reminder of everything you’ve been craving since that first evaluation. You move cautiously, tracing along her in slow, deliberate strokes, letting her subtle shifts guide you.

As you work, her hips begin to move slightly, a faint rhythm that you match immediately. You focus entirely on her clit, finding it with purpose and letting your tongue trace precise circles over the sensitive spot. Her body responds subtly at first—a slight flex of her thighs, a faint deepening of her breathing—but then she begins to grind against you, her movements deliberate, setting a demanding pace.

Her thighs tighten around your head, holding you firmly, and her warmth spreads against you as her arousal builds. The faint scent of her grows stronger, more intoxicating with each passing moment. The low sounds that escape her—soft, unrestrained moans—cut through the silence, quiet but impossible to miss. The sound of her pleasure fills you with renewed purpose, driving you to push harder, to make her lose the control she clings to so tightly.

You adjust seamlessly to her movements, your tongue pressing more firmly as her hips set a rhythm that grows more demanding with each passing second. The warmth of her envelops you completely, her scent thick and intoxicating, saturating your senses until nothing else exists. Her thighs flex around your head, tightening their hold, as if to anchor herself against the rising tide of sensation. Every inhale you take is filled with her, each shallow breath a reminder of the position she holds over you.

Her soft moans slip past her lips, each one slightly louder than the last, their restrained nature fraying at the edges. The controlled grace she carried moments ago begins to falter, her movements sharpening as her hips grind against your tongue with increasing insistence. You respond instinctively, letting your tongue trace circles that align perfectly with her pace, adjusting to every subtle cue her body gives.

Her thighs tremble against your cheeks, their strength faltering as the tension in her body builds. The moans grow breathier, tinged with urgency, and her weight presses down more fully, holding you in place beneath her. Her breathing becomes uneven, hitching with every deliberate motion of your tongue as you follow her lead, unrelenting in your efforts to meet her every need.

Suddenly, her movements grow erratic, the control she held so tightly slipping entirely. Her body tenses above you, her thighs clenching tightly around your head, cutting off your world to everything but her. A sharp, shuddering moan escapes her lips, low and unrestrained, the sound raw and involuntary. Her hips press down fully, grinding against your tongue with forceful, almost frantic motions, riding the crest of her climax.

Her body tightens completely, trembling violently as wave after wave of pleasure overtakes her. You remain steady beneath her, your tongue moving with careful persistence, guiding her through every pulse, drawing out each lingering sensation. Her knuckles whiten as her grip on the head rest tighten, her breaths coming in short, uneven gasps.

For a long moment, she remains like that—tense, trembling, pressing herself fully against you as the final shudders of release course through her. Only when her body begins to relax does her grip loosen, her thighs softening their hold on your head. Even then, you don’t stop entirely, your movements gentle now, offering a last, tender caress as her breathing begins to steady once more.

Her breathing slows as her movements begin to still, her weight easing slightly as she lifts herself just enough to create space. But as her warmth pulls away, a thought flashes through your mind: this isn’t enough. You can’t just meet her expectations—you need to surpass them.

Sliding your hands up, you let your palms glide over the curve of her hips, steadying her as you adjust her position slightly. Your fingers trail downward, curling firmly to grab handfuls of her cheeks. The sensation of her soft skin under your hands is electrifying, and you feel the tension in her body shift as you grip her firmly. You spread her open with care, creating the perfect angle to access her most sensitive, tightest spot. It’s a bold move—one she hasn’t guided you to, one she hasn’t even hinted at—but you know you need to take this risk. You have to make yourself unforgettable.

With deliberate intent, your tongue traces lower, teasing the sensitive curve of her entrance before pressing further, exploring the tight ring of her ass. The sensation is new, unexpected, and her reaction is immediate.

Her body jolts slightly, her hips lifting momentarily in surprise as a sharp, breathy gasp escapes her lips. For a split second, your heart races, unsure if you’ve overstepped. But then her hips press back down against you, a reflexive movement that tells you everything you need to know. Her thighs tremble against your cheeks as her weight shifts fully onto your face, and the tension in her body gives way to something rawer, more unrestrained.

Her moans begin to spill freely now, soft and breathy at first, slipping past the tight control she holds so carefully. The sound fuels you, driving you to press deeper, to let your tongue move in slow, deliberate circles over her most sensitive areas. Her grip on the desk falters as her hips grind harder against you, her movements growing more erratic, more demanding.

You alternate between her ass and her folds, moving with seamless precision. Your tongue delves deeply, savoring her, while your nose brushes against her slick warmth with each shift. Her hips jerk, grinding against your face as though her body can’t decide which sensation to crave more. The weight of her bears down heavily, leaving you struggling for air, but all you can think about is her. Every detail—the way her thighs tighten around your head, the faint tremble in her muscles, the unrestrained sounds spilling from her lips—it consumes you entirely.

Her thighs shift slightly, and then, with a deliberate motion, she lifts her legs off the floor, letting her entire weight press fully onto you. The headrest beneath you creaks slightly, adjusting to the added pressure as she settles in, trapping you completely beneath her. The shift is overwhelming, her body sinking into yours entirely, her warmth and slickness engulfing your senses. Each shallow breath you manage is filled with her scent, and the sensation is intoxicating.

Your hands tighten on her cheeks, spreading her wider as you focus entirely on her ass. You let your tongue explore deeply, pressing into her with slow, deliberate strokes, circling and teasing the sensitive area with unrelenting purpose. Her body tenses above you, her thighs trembling violently as her breathing turns ragged and uneven. Each exhale is sharp, shaky, and punctuated by guttural moans that grow louder and less restrained as she begins to lose control.

Her hips grind down against your face, her rhythm faltering, her movements desperate. Her breathing becomes erratic, catching with each flick of your tongue, until the sounds spilling from her lips dissolve into broken gasps. The pressure of her weight presses down harder, and her thighs clamp around your head with such force that it feels like she’s grounding herself entirely in you, refusing to let you go.

Her body begins to quake above you, losing all rhythm as her hips move erratically, chasing the sensations building within her. Her breathing stutters sharply, and then, with one raw, unrestrained cry—the loudest, most primal moan you’ve ever heard from her—her climax overtakes her.

Her entire body shudders violently, her hips grinding down fully, pressing you deeper into the headrest as she rides out wave after wave of intense pleasure. Her slick wetness spills onto your face, warm and undeniable, marking the raw power of her release. The sensation spurs you on, your tongue moving with soft but purposeful strokes, coaxing every last tremor from her body.

Her thighs quiver uncontrollably, gripping your head like a vice as she rides through the overwhelming storm of her climax. Each moan spills from her lips in sharp, uneven bursts, her control shattered entirely. Her grip on the headrest tightens, her knuckles white, as though anchoring herself against the intensity of the moment.

You can feel her unraveling completely, her body vibrating with aftershocks that seem to go on forever. Her weight remains heavy on you, holding you in place as she takes in shallow, ragged breaths, her body still trembling with the echoes of her release. Even as her movements begin to slow, her thighs remain locked around you, as though she’s reluctant to let go of the sensation. Every ounce of her focus is still on you, every ounce of yours entirely on her.

Finally, her body begins to relax. Her breathing slows, and her thighs loosen their hold, trembling slightly as she lifts herself off you with deliberate care. Her legs are unsteady as she straightens, smoothing her skirt with the practiced precision you’ve come to expect. Her breathing is still uneven, her chest rising and falling as she regains her composure.

For a moment, she stands there silently, her gaze heavy and unreadable as it lingers on you. The scent of her, the taste of her, clings to you, saturating your senses entirely. The room feels charged, her presence commanding even in stillness. You dare not assume anything—she’s still the one in control, and any sign of approval must come from her. Yet, in the weight of her silence, you can’t help but feel that you’ve done something right.

Her chest rises and falls evenly as she regains her composure, her expression remaining as poised and inscrutable as ever. You think you’ve proven yourself, think you’ve risen to her exacting standards, but the thought lingers, unspoken, as you wait. Every second stretches, heavy with anticipation, until finally, she speaks.

“Well done,” she murmurs, her tone softer than usual but still carrying that commanding edge. The weight of her approval lands squarely on you, and a quiet sense of pride begins to unfurl in your chest. Then, with a slight glance back at you, her lips curve in what could almost be a smile—subtle, fleeting, but unmistakable.

“Bold,” she says, her tone as measured as ever, but there’s a hint of something beneath it—impressed. “Unexpected, but… effective.”

The words hit you like a wave, filling your chest with pride, though you keep your expression neutral, refusing to let the satisfaction show too openly. Still, the acknowledgment lingers, affirming that your risk wasn’t just noticed but appreciated.

“Report here Monday morning,” she continues briskly, her tone returning to business. “You’ve earned your place.”

Her words hang in the air, settling over you like a blanket of relief. You don’t let the triumph show too openly, knowing she’s still watching you, but a quiet sense of accomplishment blooms within. She turns away, stepping back toward her desk with deliberate, unhurried movements, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. The sound carries finality, a subtle dismissal, but also an acknowledgment of what you’ve achieved.

You remain where you are for a moment, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath, her scent and taste still vivid, still clinging to you. The weight of her words settles warmly over you—a victory hard won, a moment of validation you’ll carry with you. You’ve proven yourself tonight, but you know better than to assume it’s enough. This is only the beginning.

A faint trace of satisfaction flickers across her face as she glances at you one last time, her gaze lingering briefly before returning to her work. With an elegant nod, she dismisses you, her attention already shifting back to her desk.

Carefully, you rise, your legs unsteady from the intensity of the moment. Before leaving, you reach for the bench, the familiar weight grounding you as you lift it and carry it back to its original place in the corner of the room. The small act feels significant, almost ceremonial, as though returning it to its spot closes this chapter of the evening. Once it’s in place, you step back, sparing a glance at Miyeon, who is already engrossed in her work, her demeanor as composed as ever.

Each step toward the door feels deliberate, carrying the weight of everything it took to earn this moment. As you leave her office, the memory of her words—and her body—lingers in your mind, a reminder of what you’ve achieved and what’s still expected of you.

The quiet buzz of the building greets you as you exit, a stark contrast to the intensity of the room you just left. The evening air feels cooler, crisper, as you step outside, but the warmth of her approval stays with you. Miyeon’s words echo in your mind, solidifying the pride swelling in your chest.

“Bold. Unexpected, but effective.”

Those words, more than anything, stay with you, reminding you of the risks you took and the reward you earned. Monday will bring new challenges, but for the first time, you feel fully prepared to meet them. You’ve been given a chance to prove yourself again, and you’re determined to exceed every expectation.

-----

Back in the office, after the door softly clicks shut, Yuqi steps inside and leans against the frame, arms crossed and a smirk on her lips. “Alright, spill,” she teases. “What’s the deal? You actually allowed a second chance? I thought that wasn’t your thing.”

Miyeon glances up from her desk, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Oh, please. I knew from the start I was going to,” she says smoothly. “There was potential. I just needed to see it under the right conditions.”

Yuqi raises an eyebrow, the smirk widening. “So the whole week of calls and emails? You’re telling me that wasn’t just for your entertainment?”

A faint smile curves Miyeon’s lips as she leans back in her chair. “Maybe I enjoyed it,” she admits. “But desperation does something extraordinary—it strips away everything unnecessary. What’s left is either weakness or strength.”

“You and your tests,” Yuqi mutters, shaking her head with a laugh. “You could’ve just brought it up on Monday.”

“That wouldn’t have shown me what I needed to see,” Miyeon replies with a knowing glance. “Pressure reveals everything. It’s like a diamond—only the right conditions bring it out.”

“Wow,” Yuqi says, stepping forward to nudge Miyeon’s shoulder lightly. “Soft-hearted Cho strikes again. Admit it, you like a little drama.”

Miyeon chuckles, her tone turning playful. “Only when the effort is worth watching.”

“Noted,” Yuqi replies, heading for the door with an exaggerated wave. “Don’t worry, I’ll mark this historic event down. Second chances with Miyeon Cho—they’re like spotting Bigfoot. Rare and highly debated.”

Miyeon shakes her head, unable to suppress a laugh. “Get out of here, Yuqi.”

Yuqi grins, pausing at the door. “Hey, if you get bored over the weekend, you know where to find me. Or maybe I’ll just swing by Monday with popcorn to watch the show.”

Miyeon points to the door, her expression feigned exasperation. “Out.”

“Fine, fine,” Yuqi says, throwing her hands up in mock surrender before slipping through the door with a grin. “Don’t get too sentimental on me, boss.”

As the door closes behind her, Miyeon’s smile lingers. Her gaze drifts back to the now-empty space, thoughtful yet satisfied. She had known all along what could be achieved, but sometimes the right kind of desperation was the key. Pressure, determination, and grit—it all had to surface naturally, and it had.

With a quiet exhale, she turns back to her desk, already contemplating the days ahead with a sense of certainty.

[neoplatinum]

primadonna girl | cho miyeon

summary: dispatch catching you with korea's femme fatale is NOT on your 2024 bingo card

pairing: idol!miyeon x fem!reader

themes: clubbing in hongdae!, mentions of alcohol, implied sex, hook up buddies, dispatch :(, minor angst, fluff, shuhua! + her doggies

wc: 2.7k

[hongdae, 1am]

you grab your glass half full and down it, leaving the bar. the sting of the hard liquor making you shudder all over. the sea of bodies is making it hard to move around. you weave through the bodies heading for your friend's silhouette across the dark room.

when you feel tugging on your shirt. you turn around to the sight of a gorgeous girl with blood red lipstick and light blonde hair.

she nearly stumbles into you, underestimating her drunk strength.

her face is flushed even in the lowlight of blue and green lasers. her body tilts forward into you as she reaches her hand out.

you shake it, a little confused at the gesture. she's probably drunk out of her mind and mistaken you for someone she knows.

"can i help you?" you ask as you continue to shake her hand. she giggles at the action and covers her laugh with her hand before nodding her head.

"yes, your number?" she tilts her head as she asks the question, you're a little shocked at the boldness. her eyes shine in the light and she giggles a bit before shoving her hand into your jean pocket and grabbing your phone.

she faces the phone in your face before looking for the phone app, adding her contact into your phone. you let her too, mouth agape as you watch her type her contact info into your phone.

"call me?" she says as she tucks the phone back into your pocket. giving you a kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the crowd on the dancefloor.

--

you don't call her. you don't see her for weeks actually, not until you're out with your friends in another different club.

you don't spot her, but she spots you. too busy in a trance of people watching the dance floor to notice her.

she walks over, moving past the sea of people and making a beeline straight for you.

"hi, lost my number?" she starts, pulling you towards a more secluded part of the club. less sweaty, you focus on her, she's got the same blood red lipstick on, a dark you barely register what she's saying.

"no, i don't know you, sorry." you say quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. she nods at you.

"that's why i gave you my number, so we could get to know each other."

"oh, sorry, no one has ever done this. i’m just confused with what to do." she nods and brushes all of it away.

"no problem, just call me, okay?" she says, and you agree. feeling inclined to do whatever she says with those gorgeous eyes staring back at you.

"come dance with me." she says and pulls you closer to dance up against her. you get lost in the passion.

--

so, it turns into becoming hook up buddies? friends with benefits, but not friends? sleep partners? it's hard to understand what exactly you two are considering how little you two interact outside of hooking up occasionally.

doesn't help that it’s never at the same place more than twice. sometimes you show up to a studio at 4pm on a tuesday, other times its 2am on a saturday in a club. or sometimes even a bathroom in 9am in some cafe.

it's hard to really understand why you're doing this too, you just feel so inclined to answer every text, no matter what you're doing. each time you leave you feel a little more intrigued by her.

she always manages to send a car for you to get back home though, no matter how far or weird the location is. you think it’s almost like an escort service...but you're not being paid.

it's mind-blowing sex with a gorgeous girl way out of your league, so really you let all precaution leave your body every time she sends a text. lately it's been less frequent, and sometimes you think about reaching out and seeing how she's doing. but you've never initiated anything, it's always her telling you where to go and when to go.

you feel like you don't know your own power in this dynamic. you begin to really miss this girl, even though you don't know her name.

--

your friend, for whatever reason, dropped so much money on her favorite girl group's concert. begging you to join her, even negotiating ticket prices so you'll be more inclined to go. you ask her who the group is, and she says gidol?

you're very unsure of who they are. but she does tell you that they have that famous song called queencard, so you agree to go. now you stand outside jamsil indoor stadium, watching everyone decked out in purple. while you're still trying to figure out who's who in the group.

you never get to figure it out once you're rushed inside by screaming fans behind you. you nearly stumble over yourself, but mostly you make it to your seat without bumps or bruises.

the signature sound of the group's song getting louder makes the stadium erupt in a roar. the stadium turns into a sea of flashing purple with all the lightsticks.

the concert starts and you're watching the concert videos being played. you focus on one girl; she looks so familiar, but the scene ends too quick for you to really figure it out. and after another minute of screaming, the lift brings up five girls. they stand center stage, lights shining on them looking like they own it.

then you see her, the woman that's been leaving you walking weird, and your neck mauled all last month. her blonde hair draping over her body, a tight red and black corset, and heels high enough to break ankles. your blood runs cold.

"who's the girl there?" you shout into your friend’s ear. she's trying to see who you're pointing at.

"which one?" she asks, shouting into your ear over the screams.

"the one in the middle!" you shout back.

"oh! that's miyeon!" she says and returns back to her cheering. miyeon, miyeon, miyeon. you pull out your phone, fingers flying across the screen to search up the name on naver. and there at the very first result is exactly pretty girl from the bar. you probably stared at the photo for a couple minutes, just so your brain can catch up to who're you’re looking at.

you bring up the camera app to snap a photo of her. a weird feeling sitting in your chest. it feels like you have been deceived. she never mentioned her day job, something along the lines of being in the music industry, but she never mentioned being a top idol.

you try to enjoy the rest of the concert, chanting through queencard and super lady, but in your heart, you are thinking about miyeon. what else could she be hiding?

by the end of the concert, you pull out your phone. sending the photo of miyeon that you took earlier.

(me): you never told me you were an idol....

(me): attachment: 1 image

you shove your phone back into your pants. feeling a little frustrated, you two never disclosed much information to each other about your personal lives, but now you can see why. the girl you have been sleeping with is a global superstar, korea's princess. here you are in a taxi trying to get home, with your friend talking your ear off about how amazing the concert was.

it starts to spread, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest. you feel like you exposed yourself for nothing. now you find out cho miyeon, the girl that is such an expert at eating you out, has a whole other part of her life. it explains the random locations you were asked to go to. probably photoshoots, or the times in between her busy schedule. you are just a booty call to her.

when you finally get home, exhausted from all the shouting at the concert and making sure your friend gets home safe. you hear the signature ringtone sound you set for miyeon.

girl from the bar: can we meet up to talk?

you call miyeon.

"hi miyeon, when can you meet?"

"tomorrow afternoon." she says, you can still hear the sound of busy traffic, maybe she's just getting home now.

"yeah, that works. where did you want to meet?"

"you know that park by the han river, the one we ate ramyeon at." you hear movement through the phone, but you agree. it is time to finally settle what you've wanted to say the whole night.

"see you then miyeon."

--

"hi." she stands before you, hoodie over a cap and sunglasses bigger than her face. with a mask tucked over her lower face. you stare at her in confusion. this get up is really different from how you usually see her.

"are you sick?" you ask.

"no, disguise." she offers instead. it makes sense, she is cho miyeon of g-idle. so, you sit down, and she sits by you. both of you staring out into the han river. people are biking and enjoying walks, while you are having a nerve-wracking conversation with miyeon. she fiddles with the sleeves of her hoodie as she waits for you to start.

"would you have told me yourself? about being in gidle?" you start. it is time to rip the band-aid off.

"probably not." she answers honestly. you sigh at that.

"okay. we aren't dating but i still feel like i've been deceived by a partner."

"i'm sorry." she continues. feeling a bit guilty from withholding her identity from you. "you didn't recognize me when we were first talking, so i figured it would be okay if we kept this lowkey."

now you feel both upset and awful, miyeon's probably had to walk on eggshells ever since she's been in the industry. keeping her identity hidden as she enjoys her life. you want to apologize too, for pressing her on this matter.

"i'm sorry too then. must be hard trying to stay out of the public eye when you want to have fun." miyeon agrees, nodding her head at the honest observation. meeting you was good; it was a way to protect her idol image while enjoying herself. you never asked for more, and she never offered more. it was the perfect.

"so, what do you want to do now?" you ask.

"i'm okay with continuing what we have if you are okay with it. you cannot tell anyone you know me though." she says, firm about her identity.

"that's okay with me. i would not sell you out." you offer your hand, and she shakes on it.

--

you are trying to finish up this dinner, stirring the stew in the pot, when you hear your front door open. sight of your friend bursting through the door.

"you whore!" she shouts at you, closing the door behind her as she walks right up to you. shoving her phone in your face. "you're the one dating miyeon?"

"woah, what are you talking about?" panic rising in your body. you take her phone and read the top headline.

DISPATCH: [BREAKING] CHO MIYEON OF (G)I-DLE SEEN WITH GIRLFRIEND

you look below, and photos of you and miyeon (poorly taken), were filling the article. photos of you and miyeon spotted at bars, her photoshoots, late nights outside, even the conversation you had with her by the han river.

"so? you are actually dating her?" your friend accuses you, hands on her hips as she stares at you.

"shit, i need to call miyeon." you hand your friend her phone, before pulling out your own. speed dialing miyeon, it is picked up immediately.

"miyeon."

"i know, i've seen it everywhere." she says, you can hear the sounds of people all around her, swear words being thrown around. you panic while you wait.

"what do we do?"

"nothing to do, we lay low. don't be seen out in public first off. they're going to try and pry into everything in your life." she continues.

"damn it miyeon, i have a life to live, i can't be holed up in my house forever waiting for this to die down." you say back, thinking about work and your life. your friend senses your frustration and stops to sit down.

"i'm sorry, i really am. it's out of my hands right now, the company is deciding what to do next. i'm not even supposed to answer your calls." she explains, and that just makes you feel worse.

feeling like you've been cornered. but then you think, this must be worse for her.

"what about you, do you have to lay low too?" you ask.

"yes, i have to wait until the news cycle shifts to another headline. so, i can't be seen outside or online. it's frustrating but i can handle it, i’m sorry to drag you into this too." she explains, feeling sympathetic for all that has happened.

as much as you want to be upset at miyeon, it's not her fault there’s rabid fans who lack boundaries and are so interested in the private life of idols. you think in a different setting you would have dated miyeon, had there not be paparazzi swarming her for the intimate details of her life.

so, you relent, letting her have her space. the call ended a week ago and you've been cautious being seen outside. putting on a disguise much like the one miyeon wore when she met you.

not seeing miyeon for a week has made you miss her. with both of you forced to lay low in the public's eye, you often chat over the phone. calling or messaging, it's a relief to know that she won't just toss you to the side now that the news is out.

you start to realize that missing miyeon isn't about the mind-blowing sex or the thrill of not knowing where you'll have to meet her. it’s the excitement of being near her, being able to kiss her under the guise of sexual intimacy. the ability to spend the truly little time she has carved out for you.

you feel like a teenager in love, running around at her beck and call because you miss her desperately. late night calls with miyeon feel like they're turning into virtual dates. often eating dinner over the phone together and spilling to each other the details of your life.

--

"hey, visit me. in the dorms." she says one day over call. you stop your reading as you look up at the screen with miyeon's face filling the screen.

"right now?"

"right now." she says with a smile, and you get up, keys in hand and slipping on your slippers. nearly running out the door to find a cab. miyeon texts you her address, and you take off, smiling at the idea of seeing miyeon after not being around her for two weeks.

after paying for the taxi and looking at the building where her dorm is. you tuck your cap a little lower and quicken your steps. eager to be able to see miyeon. you walk up the stairs to the third floor and knock on the door.

the sound of dogs barking through the door. and there is miyeon, behind the door with her dogs rushing up on your legs. jumping for attention. you give them both ear scratches before walking straight for miyeon, kissing her desperately. pushing her against anything that's close enough.

"hi." she pulls you into another kiss, until you hear something.

"oh, hello." you see another woman. your eyes go wide as you step back, face flushed with embarrassment.

"hi, um, nice to meet you." you offer a hand. the girl smiles and shakes it.

"you must be the girl that miyeon's been seeing." she smiles and picks up the two dogs, putting them on the couch.

"yes. i am. you are?" you ask.

"shuhua, nice to meet you." she says as she turns on the tv.

"nice to meet you shuhua." and you get dragged by miyeon to her room, still feeling the embarrassment of being caught by someone.

"i missed you." miyeon says as you both sit side by side in bed.

"me too."

"i've been thinking about us." she starts. "i want us to date, for real."

"yeah, me too. i would really like that."

"great because i already told my company that i’m serious about you." she says and pulls you into a kiss. dragging her hands down your body.

"oh really? i don't get a say?"

"of course you do, i just thought we both liked each other and wanted to be more."

"i'm messing with you, i would love to be with you." she pushes you backwards and you let out a laugh before pulling her towards you again.

"we're together then." she says with finality.

--

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. so i powered through it to finish it. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[mandu-17]

Trust me, Baby | Cho Miyeon x fem! reader

Requested by: Anonynoums

Request: Hi! Could get an imagine where miyeon confesses to reader that she likes her(reader also does) and they end up sleeping together. But, the next day reader finds out she’s “dating someone”, (which is really just a publicity stunt) and accuses miyeon of using her. Basically smut/angst but with a happy ending.

Warnings: Language, drinking, phone smushing in anger

Genre: Smut, angst and fluff

Wordcount: ~ 3,324

A/N: IT’S OCTOBER 3RD

“I love this colour on you.” Miyeon murmured, one of her hands put a stray of your hair behind your ear, in the other one she held a glass of champagne.

Your heads were almost pressed together, as both of you were watching your new nails.

“Thank you.” Your smile being slightly uneasy because of the sudden proximity between you two.

The thing was that you weren’t uncomfortable, in fact you were yearning for more of Miyeon. The two of you had known each other for many years and that little crush you developed on her was slowly getting out of control.

Especially whenever it was only the two of you hanging out just like that night at her apartment when the living room was lit by purple LED lights and few candles. With her weekend finally off, Miyeon invited you for a fun, girly sleepover.

Unfortunately for you, three glasses of champagne later, Miyeon was already feeling slightly more playful and touchy, in your opinion bold even.

She did not see any problem with her knee touching yours all the time, it also seemed like there was no need for her to explain her fingers fidgeting with sleeves of your hoodie.

“It’s unbelievable how you can literally pull off anything.” Miyeon’s back rested against the couch, after she put her glass, half empty on the table. Her eyelids were moving slower and slower.

It was almost 2 AM - the time when all of her tiredness was making its’ way to acknowledgement.

“It’s just nail color, come on.” You shrugged trying your best not to show how her raspy voice was affecting you.

“But I meant everything, clothes, hair colors...” You bit your lip when Miyeon paused and tense silence filled the space between you. “I think even bald you’d still be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Her brown, Bambi eyes raised up to meet yours. Corners of her lips also raised coyly creating a soft yet charming smile. The rest of her face was serious, as if Miyeon really wanted you to hear her out.

“I-I can’t be the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. I mean you’re an idol yourself working with and seeing all these other beautiful idols everyday.” You shook your head with an amused smile.

“Y/N?”

You hummed with a raised eyebrow.

“For once, just shut up.” Her words came out quietly but also stern.

Your eyes widened in shock.

“Now you’re just being mean.” You scoffed, not used to Miyeon talking to you like that. Yes, it was in a playful manner, but the two of you were usually very sweet to each other.

“I’m serious when I say you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and I’m also serious when I say that anything you wear looks incredibly good on you. Y/N, I-” Miyeon stopped suddenly and before continuing she licked her lips. “I like you.”

“I like you too.” She frowned at your response.

“Not like that. I really do like you, Y/N. And you’re more than just a friend to me.” You could clearly see how hard Miyeon was trying not to reveal her nervousness. Her voice as well as her breathing was unsteady, brunette tried to busy her fingers with the hem of her gray hoodie this time. On the inside she was already shaking in regret - was it a good idea to let you know the truth?

It was easy to panic when she did not hear a single word back from you. The look on your face in that moment was also something she couldn’t really interpret. Yes, you looked shocked to your core with your mouth hanging slightly open, but was it a good kind of shock? Was there a chance that you reciprocated her feelings? What if there was no going back now and all these years of friendship had ended right then and there?

“I-I didn’t... It’s not-” Miyeon began apologizing when something cut her off. It was you or more specifically your lips brushing against hers.

And before she even knew it, Miyeon’s eyes fell closed, your kiss just felt incredibly natural.

You trembled slightly in her arms when her hand cupped your cheek gently. Once her sweet smell hit your nose you were about to explode, you were certain. The heat of Miyeon’s skin, her soft touches and those two hums she let out against your mouth were overwhelming.

“I-... You-” You pulled away, a breathless stuttering mess. “Do you actually like me? Is this really happening?”

Brunette giggled loudly, her response came as another kiss and a quickly muttered ‘yes’.

This time was way more passionate, Miyeon even pushed you against the couch and straddled hurriedly. Your eyebrows raised in surprise nevertheless you were far from complaining. Like a snake you let your arms sneak around brunette’s tiny waist, you pressed her body firmly against yours. Miyeon raised your chin with her finger so that she had the best access to your neck. At first, she was only pecking your skin there, but soon enough her actions turned less soft.

“Are you sure? I mean, isn’t it too fast?” You moaned suddenly feeling her teeth graze the column of your throat.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” Her deep voice was there again. You bit your lip hard in order to contain yourself. As she straightened her back, those Bambi eyes looked down at you. “Love me, Y/N.”

You intertwined your fingers and brought her hand up to you lips. That was your answer.

Miyeon smirked, in her head probably already imagining all the things the two of you were about to do. Then, when she tried to lean in you gripped her thighs before picking up her whole body with bedroom being your destination.

“I really have to start working out too.” Brunette gasped wrapping her arms around your neck. She loved staying so close to you, especially now while you were showing off, Miyeon couldn’t help but adore you even more. Seconds later, you gently put her on that huge bed and your lips met again.

Surprisingly, it was her who took your shirt off first, although hers joined your on the floor almost immediately. Her, who pushed you to lay down on a cotton pillow. Despite everything you did your best to stay gentle with your actions.

Also, you just really wanted to see Miyeon’s vision for your first night together.

And just like with anything else you could imagine - there was no way she’d let you down.

Her eager mouth made sure to mark as many spots on your skin as possible, Miyeon especially liked your reaction at her biting onto your collarbone. That deep moan you let out got her thighs squeezing, she could already feel how wet and desperate she was getting for you.

Refusing to wait any longer, Miyeon got rid of her pants making you follow quickly.

“There’s no going back now.” She whispered with her 40 degrees nose resting against yours.

“I don’t want to go back.” You answered while your hand was sneakily getting to the clip of her bra.

Miyeon sighed in relief once the last piece of clothing in your way fell down, she hid her face in your hair feeling way too hot, shy even, after you started playing with her boobs. You cherished each and every single whine that escaped her. And even though it was your first time seeing and touching her breasts you felt addicted already to the softness of her skin.

“Oh, Miyeon.” You whimpered when she sat down directly on your thigh and pressed down on it.

“Shit, Y/N.” Her wet folds created such an intense, pleasant feeling on your leg, you bit your lip harshly.

Just as Miyeon’s hips began to rock back and forth you expected her on focusing on chasing her own pleasure while riding your thigh, but that’s when she surprised you once again. Her long, slim fingers reached out to the wetness that arose in between your legs.

“Fuck-” Both of you panted, lost in your own intimate paradise.

With no warning, Miyeon pushed two digits into your dripping core causing you to mewl weakly. The way she curled them inside you made you wonder where she got that experience from.

“Baby, right there. Please don’t stop.” Brunette gripped your shoulder tightly with her right hand while her left one was knuckles deep in, fucking you.

You gripped her hips in order to guide her a little faster, make her press down a bit harder and finally to turn her into a moaning, sweaty mess that won’t be able to walk properly the next day.

Miyeon’s back arched unexpectedly when you flexed your thigh, she started shaking and soon after that her limit was reached. Bambi eyes rolled to the back of her head, as she came with a loud cry.

She never let her fingers rest though, through it all they kept on pumping in and out of you, it was becoming too much. The rhythm of her hips, breathy sounds she was making and all the sweat coating both of your bodies - you felt like passing out.

When your climax came, with teary eyes you kept on repeating Miyeon’s name like she was the only thing you’d ever gotten to touch, hear and see. In no time you felt overstimulated which made you push Miyeon’s hand away.

“S-sensitive.” You mumbled, still helping her ‘down’ from your leg and lay beside you.

Both your chests continued on raising and falling rapidly, when you felt her curious eyes on you. You turned your head to the right to take a long look at the most wonderful woman you’ve ever met.

Miyeon was already curled on her left side, her face illuminated only by the moonlight. She trapped your leg between hers, as she let herself stare at you endlessly. You didn’t even need her to say anything - Bambi eyes were your answers.

Only when her breathing returned to normal, her cheeks slowly regained their pale colour and you noticed her messy hair did you acknowledge what the two of you had actually done.

Shyly, you closed your eyes.

“Told you there’s no going back.”

With a hum, you nuzzled your face into her shoulder.

~

Grinning like an idiot, you walked into the kitchen with the intention of making coffee for your lover and you. It was around 9 AM and Miyeon was also up, already locked in the bathroom while brushing teeth and washing her face as every other morning.

You clicked on the coffee machine and watched brown liquor pouring down into the first one of two white mugs you’d had prepared. Your fingers mindlessly played with the zipper of Miyeon’s big hoodie that you borrowed. Once hers coffee was done, you switched the mugs and waited for another one to fill up. It was your phone beeping that pulled you out of that small coffee trance.

With no thought, you made your way over to the couch and looked for the device for a moment before eventually finding it behind a fluffy pillow. Miyeon and you didn’t have time to clean up the living room last night.

Your phone screen lit up because of your coworkers typing on the group chat. Uninterested, you muted the conversation - it was the weekend after all, you’d catch up with them later.

Once you were in the kitchen again with a comforting cup of hot coffee in your hand and your phone in the other one, you decided to scroll through social media while waiting for Miyeon to stop occupying the bathroom and finally let you know what she’d like for you to cook for breakfast.

That was when it’d popped up.

You dropped the mug, having to reread the article’s title at least two more times. They indeed included photos that showed Miyeon’s heart eyes.

(G)I-DLE’s Miyeon and SF9’s Hwiyoung spotted on a romantic night walk by the Han River! The couple of visuals look so in love!

Miyeon ran into the kitchen, panic present in her eyes as she heard glass breaking.

“Everything okay?” She gasped spotting sharp white pieces of the mug scattered on the floor.

“What is this?” You ignored her while nearly shoving your phone into her face.

Miyeon frowned before visibly paling once she got the look at what the issue was.

“Y/N, don’t... It-it’s not what it looks like, okay?” She stuttered.

“You know what that fucking looks like? You’re a cheater, Miyeon. You used me! Are you fucking kidding me right now?” In a sudden rush of anger you sent your phone to the ground.

“Y/N! Calm down-” Miyeon winced, trying to get a hold of your shoulders after hearing the second crack that morning.

“Don’t fucking touch me! You ruined everything. Y-You- Dammit, Miyeon! I can’t stand you. Just leave me alone!” There was nothing she could really do considering the state you were in. You weren’t thinking straight, clouded by jealousy and anger - Miyeon understood that it was no use for her to try and explain the situation to you. She let you go, gave the space you needed and promised herself that she’ll catch you and talk to you only after you cool off.

~

Without her by your side, you were cold.

Even that stupid hoodie bathed in Miyeon’s perfume didn’t help.

With no destination in mind, you walked around the nearest park wondering why on Earth did it have to be you? To finally touch the sky with your long time crush and then be harshly pushed down from one of the clouds.

That Hwiyoung.

His annoyingly perfect face was something you were unable to compare with even in your best make up look. And these stupid words that Miyeon told you last night, that had already engraved deeply into your brain and heart, that you were the prettiest.

How could she?

That was what hurt the most. How could Miyeon so simply flirt with you, her friend when her only goal was to use you. Maybe her and Hwiyoung had a fight and you were her second choice? Maybe she just wanted to forget about him for one short night? Maybe they just started dating and Miyeon thought that cheating at this point wouldn’t count? There were so many maybes, you felt like either throwing up or beating the shit out of someone.

Without her by your side, you felt lonely.

All these people in the park seemed so distant even though they were taking the same paths you were. You felt isolated in your own broken heart. There were no words to describe how furious at Miyeon you were and how at the same time you were already missing the feeling of her arms around you, keeping you safe. Until then, you’d never noticed how selfish she actually was. That’s how blinded you were by your feelings.

~

The next few days were blurry. After coming home from work you’d only lay down on the couch, barely eat and sleep a lot. Sleep was your true escape as even at work half of your coworkers were non stop talking about Korea’s new favorite Visual Couple.

Then on following Friday, almost a week after your argument with Miyeon, she showed up at your door. You were woken up from your nth nap by the sound of doorbell.

“We have to talk, Y/N.” Bambi eyes were determined to make things right, but in her voice you could hear a note of sadness.

You scanned her features for a moment before wordlessly letting her in by opening the door wider.

Just like anyone could imagine, it was painfully awkward at first. You were still half asleep and Miyeon didn’t know where to start.

“For you.” She pulled a single red rose from behind her back and handed it to you.

You only stared at her.

“I expected that one.” She nodded to herself and put the flower on your kitchen table.

“Just start already, Miyeon. I have better things to do.” With a roll of eyes you plopped down on the couch.

“That article you saw wasn’t true.” Her soft voice came from somewhere on your left.

“Everyone is now talking about you two. What do you mean it wasn’t true?” Your arms crossed on your chest.

“It’s just a PR move to attract more viewers. Hwiyoung and I play in a drama called Replay and our companies thought it’d be a good publicity stunt.” You looked at her blankly, after a moment of your eyes on her, Miyeon felt unsure. “Look, I don’t even have his number on my phone.”

She gave you the device and let you scroll through all the contacts. You even search up names like ‘Baby’, ‘Darling’ or ‘Honey’ but nothing came up. With a frown, you gave it back.

“Why didn’t you tell me then? We were catching up last weekend and what? You somehow forgot to mention your new fake boyfriend?”

“I-I had it in mind, but... When I tell you I can’t think straight when I see you I’m not lying. I got so into your stories that I wasn’t even viewing him as anything important. And especially after we kissed, I... I hadn’t thought of him until you showed me that article in the morning.” Miyeon gulped, looking down on her lap. “I’m incredibly sorry, Y/N. I was planning on telling you, but like I said even in the morning, I was just in such a good mood because of you that I wasn’t thinking about my job.”

“If you don’t have his number then...” You started carefully, “How do you meet up for the paparazzi to see?”

“Our companies contact each other. We’re just being dropped at a place, our managers tell us what we should do and what we should look like. That’s basically it. Hwiyoung and I usually talk about dance practices, studio recordings or shooting for our drama. It’s always only about job.” When Miyeon saw you still processing her words, she added “It’s you that I want to talk to about everything else. It’s you that I want to stare at until I fall asleep and it’s you that I want to wake up with. I’m crazily in love with you, Y/N.”

Brave Bambi eyes stayed on you the whole time. She was putting herself out there for you. Putting an end to your friendship as well.

“I’m in love with you too, Miyeon. I’ve been for so long, but gosh you have no idea how terrified I was when I saw that article.” After all this time you were able to finally breath again. As anxiety was slowly leaving your heart, it was roaring loudly in excitement.

“I have an idea. How about we never bring this up again, huh?” Miyeon asked while standing up from her seat and taking a seat on the couch right next to you.

“I think it’s a good idea.” Fondly, you watched her lean in, as your fingers intertwined on your lap. With a happy sigh you got to kiss her again. Frankly speaking, a big part of you was afraid that you’d never get a chance to do so.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Wait here.” Miyeon gave you a quick peck before storming off to her purse. She came back with both of her hands hidden behind her back. “I figured you might need it.”

She handed you a box with a new phone inside. Genuinely speechless you opened your mouth in shock. Such a sweetheart, your brunette knew damn well that you only had an old brick as a spare phone.

“Miyeon-” You began whining, knowing that it was way too much than what you could have asked for.

“Shh, you’ll thank me later.” She winked.

[luciopioid]

No Looking Back

minnie x f!reader . 2,572K words

tags: older minnie/age gap. alcohol. use of “girl” and other feminine terms. vaginal fingering.

synopsis: minnie is a regular at your cafe job. after one particularly hard day, she runs into you and helps you out in more ways than one.

Minnie hands you a glass of wine before she sits down beside you on her couch– albeit probably too close, but the smell of her perfume and her radiating body heat next to you makes any doubt disappear immediately.

“So how long have you been there?” She asks, ruffling a hand through her hair. You shoot her a look. “The cafe, I mean.” She chuckles.

“Oh! About a year now. My last job wasn’t getting me by, but the pay here is a little better and the tips are good. I’m thinking about quitting though because last we–” You catch yourself.

“Sorry. I ramble when I’m nervous. But a year. I’ve been there a year.” You chuckle awkwardly, catching minnie’s gaze as she looks at you with a warm smile.

“Why are you nervous, baby?”

You feel your face go hot and it takes every fiber within you not to start giggling like an idiot.

You don’t really remember how you got here exactly, but you do remember crying profusely and running into one of your regulars at your job.

_

It was raining and you had just worked a shift from hell. Customers yelling in your face, whipped cream and green tea spilled over your pants and shoes– the whole nine yards. You practically run out of the cafe on your way to your car. You huddle to yourself, as if it will make the rain avoid you specifically given you forgot your umbrella. You sit down in your passenger seat momentarily, and for the first time in six hours, you breathe. Ready to go home and shower and probably cry, you start your car. Or try to at least. You turn the key again. And again. And again, but to no avail it doesn’t start. At all.

You feel tears stinging at your eyes, but you blink them away and decide to get out and pop the hood. You don’t know what you’re looking at. You just want to go home. Your hair is wet and your clothes are cold and damp.

At some point in between clocking out and having a breakdown in the rain, you ran into Minnie, a regular customer at your job that comes in every other day.

Shit.

You didn’t know what bothered you more: being in this vulnerable position for anyone to walk by and wonder if you were crazy or really down on your luck or having the woman you’ve had a crush on for literal months walking by and wonder if you were crazy or just really down on your luck. You prayed it was the ladder.

“Are you okay?” She asks after she gets out of her car, jogging towards you. “Do you need a jump?”

She’s in high waisted jeans and a blouse. Unlike yours, her hair and clothes dry. “Here,” Minnie says, passing you her umbrella as she goes to open your hood. It’s useless now, but a kind gesture nonetheless.

“I don’t know if it’ll work,” You whisper, “With the rain and all.”

“Are you locked out your car?” She asks, concerningly.

“No.” You say calmly.

“So why didn’t yo–” She pauses and laughs softly, understanding you’re in a particularly vulnerable state.

“Look,” Minnie pauses. “I live right there. Why don’t I take you to my place really quick so you can dry off and when the rain stops, I’ll come give you a jump, hmm?” She says with that same familiar smile that made you weak in the knees when you see it.

As charming as she is, you didn’t want to be pitied, even if you were quite literally having a breakdown outside of your job.

“I don’t know, It’s–”

“Come on!” She says pulling you to her car by your arm. Not letting you finish your potential objection.

-

“Thinking about what’s gonna happen to my car if it’s broken. Thinking about how I’m in a stranger’s huge fucking apartment as I wear her clothes. You know… the usual.” You joke and Minnie gives you that same warm smile as she chuckles. You finish the rest of your wine in one sip. Minnie gives you a concerning look before doing the same just for the hell of it.

“I feel like I only had a shitty shift because I didn’t see you today.” You say, entirely too late to take back.

Before you can try to awkwardly change the subject, “I can’t tell if you’re blaming me for your shitty day or if you missed me.” She says jokingly and you immediately feel a relief fall over you.

“What? Of course not!”

“Of course you didn’t miss me? Wow… Here I thought I was a favorite of yours.” Minnie says fake dramatically and for the first time all day, you feel a real genuine smile creep on your face.

“I’ve always wanted to ask, is Minnie short for something?” You inquire, your nerves slowly zipping away from the glass of wine.

Her eyes light, “No, actually.” She says matter of fact-ly. “It’s just a nickname. My real names Nicha.”

“Nicha,” you repeat to yourself, “That’s pretty. It’s fitting.”

You regret meeting her eyes because the look she’s giving you makes you want to dart your eyes in the opposite direction, but in fear of looking like a pussy in front of the most attractive woman you’ve ever seen, you hold it.

Minnie is looking at you, eyes low and smiling. “You’re so pretty, you know that? Not used to seeing you outside of your work.”

You feel your stomach tingle and your face heat up again. “Yeah?” You say, deciding to play this little game with her back.

“Yeah. You look even better in my clothes too.” She adds.

In the back of your mind, you knew this was crazy. Going to the home of a woman you barely know, letting her wash your clothes and putting you in her’s. Letting her offer you alchohol—at worse— drinking it.

“Was this your plan?” You ask, voice low and sultry. “Get some drinks in me. Try to jump my bones?”

Minnie scoots closer to you, “What? Of course not!” She says, mocking you from a few moments ago. “And don’t say it like that. Making me sound like a creep.” She jokes and shows you that smile you can’t seem to get enough of right now.

Minnie gently takes your hand and opens it. “D’you want me to stop, baby?”

Fuck.

“No.”

“Good.” She brings your hand to her mouth and presses a light kiss to your palm. You look at her with desperate eyes.

“You’ve had such a hard day,” Minnie coos, face inching towards you. “Can I make you feel better?” She whispers into your ear, as if there was anyone else around. You nod, saying yes to whatever that entails.

She kisses the sensitive skin where your ear meets your neck and you let out a soft gasp. You couldn’t believe this. You gently move her face in front of yours, holding her by her chin with your fingers. She bites her bottom lip mindlessly as she looks at yours. Minnie’s eyes flicker up to yours. “Can I kiss you?” She whispers, and you waste no time closing the gap between the two of you. Her lips press against yours firmly before she opens her mouth to take in your lower lip. She sucks at your lips slowly as you moan in between kisses. She tastes sweet like expensive wine and her lips are just as soft as you imagined.

Minnie’s hands find your hips and she grips them, tugging you closer. She pops her mouth off of yours and latches onto your neck. She gathers a part of skin between her teeth before biting down, you gasp unexpectedly before she soothes it with her velvet wet tongue and plump lips.

You’re dizzy. This is all too much. It’s too much, but you can’t help but want more.

She nips and sucks at various spots of your neck, ones that you are sure will leave marks, but you can’t find it in you to care. She comes off of your neck to meet your eyes, her nose touching yours. Minnie tugs at the bottom of the shirt of hers that you had on. She looks at you for permission and as soon as you give her a nod, she begins to bunch up the shirt at your collarbone, leaving your chest bare and exposed. Minnie places her hand on the small of your back before laying you down on her couch as she settles between your legs.

Mindlessly, your hands go to cover your breasts. That is until Minnie goes to lean down towards your ear. “Don’t hide from me. You’re so beautiful.” She says kissing at your neck again. “Wanna see you,” Her hands gently cover yours and move them away, “All of you.” Still holding your hands at your sides, she wraps her mouth around your nipple and you involuntarily whimper at the warm, slick contact. She twirls her tongue around it repeatedly, each time trying to earn another one of the beautiful sounds you make. She lets go of one of your hands, but you keep it there. In obedience. She uses her now free hand to pinch at your unoccupied bud, making you yelp and clench your fist. She switches to the newly pinched nipple and sucks as she kneads your opposite boob with her other hand, now leaving you with two free hands.

You use this as an opportunity to cup the back of her head with your hands as she sucks on your breasts repeatedly. Your hips buck into her involuntarily, wanting more of whatever was going on. You moan out into the open space again before asking, “More.”

It was all you could manage to say right now. Minnie pops off of your nipple and looks up from you at this position, “More what, pretty girl?” You groan at her and move your hips against her body, desperate for any sort of friction.

“I want you.” You say, low, for her ears only.

“Yeah?” She teases you as she creeps one hand up from your chest to your lips. She cups your face, her thumb grazing over your bottom lip. Without her even asking, you open your mouth, allowing her to slip her thumb in with ease. You wrapped your tongue around the lone digit, watching her eye your mouth in adoration.

She slips her thumb from your lips and slowly replaces them with her middle fingers and like before, you obey and suck. You allow her to push them back into your mouth, you coat her long digits in your saliva as you moan around them. “Look at you. Such a good girl.” Minnie muttered. “A good girl just for me.” She grins. Her praise was making your head spin.

Minnie pulls her fingers out of your mouth and lays against you,holding herself up on the forearm surrounding your head. She slips a hand into the front of the shorts she gave you. Your underwear was in the wash along with the rest of your clothes, you’ve never been more grateful, for the sole fact that her slick wet fingers immediately met your clit, making you gasp softly.

“Please.” You beg. Now feeling extremely desperate to feel her inside of you. She kisses your cheek and shushes you. “Shhh. Patience, love.” She whispers. Her fingers circle your clit once more before teasing at your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” She teases.

Her mouth finds yours as she kisses you, slow and languid. It’s at this point too that she decides to push her fingers into you, making you groan into her mouth at the feeling. Minnie starts off slow, her fingers pumping in and out of you at an excruciating pace for you. You whined at the sensation. “Please— Go faster.” You whimpered against her mouth.

“I’ve always wanted to have you like this. Always wanted to fuck you.” She says, almost as a confession. If you weren’t physically at a loss for words, you’d tell her the same. You’d tell her about how you always eyed her long fingers and strong hands as you took her order. About how good you thought her plump lips and nose would look under you as you rode her face. If only she knew.

She fucks her fingers into you more firmly now, at a new pace that makes you moan with every pump. A pace that makes you grip at her arm, your nails digging into her flesh. “F-fuck Minnie. Please.” She bites at your neck once more. The multiple stimulations making you mewl like a fucking kitten.

She comes up from the crook of your neck to admire your face. Your face flushed with a glowy sheen— she’d swear she’s never seen a more beautiful sight. You continue to babble nonsense and whine as she fucks into you, you feel a knot forming in your stomach as you’re being inched closer to release.

“Say my name.” She says softly, almost sounding desperate, but still demanding.

You moan and attempt to do as she says, “Mi—.”

“Nu uh,” She interrupts you, grinning, “My real name.”

As soon as she said that, she began to speed up, her fingers hitting a spot that you felt were sure to make you cum around them soon. Barely able to speak, “N-Nicha…” You whimpered. You feel her smile against your bare skin. Your hips begin to buck against her hand. She sucks on your neck, her face finding that same spot that earns the familiar noises from you. “Close, Nicha…close.” You mutter out between moans. You knew you weren’t going to be able to last long.

The movements of Minnie’s fingers in your pussy we’re becoming sloppier as you clenched around her. “There you go,” she coos, “Come for me, pretty girl.” And with one last praise, your walls tighten around her fingers and your hips grind against her, hard and desperate. You let out a string of curses and whimpers followed by her name as she kissed you all over. “Want you to cum all over my fingers.” She says, sending you over the edge with one last whine before entirely riding out your climax.

Your heavy pants fill the entire room. Minnie’s forehead touches yours while she hovers over you. You decide to break the gap again and meet her in a long, slick fluid kiss. You could feel her fingers still inside of you before she slowly pulls them out of you. Her face still centimeters away from yours, she puts her fingers into her mouth, allowing herself to taste you before turning her head to pull you into a deep kiss once more. You moan into the kiss, tasting yourself on her lips— you swear you’ve never been more turned on. You stay like that for a few mere moments before the beeping of her dryer snaps the two of you out of it.

“Do you feel better, baby?” She asks, coming off of you and sitting up. She fixes her hair and adjusts her shirt.

“Much better.” You say, offering her that same shit eating grin in return.

Minnie cups your face with her free hand, giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek before standing up from the couch.

“I’ll go get your clothes…”

[ryulvrs]

Idk how to request os it doesn't sound rude😭 (i'm sorry) but can you do miyeon g!p x fem!reader (like jealous miyeon bc reader was flirting with yuqi and talking dirty with minnie, then miyeon heard and just putted her in her place iygwim) if you don't wanna do this just ignore it please

just mine (miyeon, smut)

summary: miyeon takes your flirtatious jokes with her friends seriously and puts you in your place

warnings: dom!gp!miyeon, sub!f!reader, praise, breeding kink, jealousy, degradation, mirror sex, slight choking kink, a lot of dirty talk

word count: 1.3k

a/n: not much to say, just a lot of filthy miyeon 😭

“you did well today,” your lips temptingly released, with the lipgloss sticking them together.

“hm? with the stage?” yuqi turned her head at you, and almost instantaneously her air felt heated and her breath hitched. you nod, awaiting her response.

“thank you, y/n,” she smirked with just the corners of her lips.

“no need,” you conciously moved your hand to rest on her shoulder for just enough time that she’d think about it. long enough that she’d think about you.

“is miyeon still here?” she asks you, and you both can guess why.

“shes in the next room, are you going home soon?” this is true, miyeon is in the next room. actually, in the next room with the door open giving her a loud and clear audio of everything happening.

“who knows, you could come,” she smirks but laughs it off. as you open your mouth to respond, your head follows minnie who just came out of another connecting entrance.

“hi y/n,” she says, smiling all cutesy.

“hii minnie,” your voice does that thing where it lingers for an unnecessary amount of time. you look her up and down, noticing her obvious pulchritude immediately.

she chuckles, noticing your silence. “cat got your tongue?” she teases. your initial instinct is to make some corny joke about her tongue but you resist in attempt to look cool.

its obvious to everyone in the room that theres some sort of tension, even if its awkward and slightly cliche at times.

“you both look too good, if miyeon wasn’t a room over who knows what i’d be doing right now,” you remark with a devilish smile plastered on your face. you earn a laugh out of them both, but you can tell they undoubtedly agree.

“probably us,” yuqi says under her breath, but you catch it and just giggle. the laughs wouldn’t last much longer although, because the feeling of an unrecognized hand inching onto your waist shuts you up quickly.

your body jinks, to be met by your girlfriend’s uptight stature. “hey miyeon! ready to-“ she cuts you off my taking your hand and urging you to the car.

no words left her mouth the entire car ride, just silence between the both of you. you know what you did though, you were fully aware she would hear all of it too. even better, you loved how jealous she got.

it felt as if your arm was going to fall off when she forcefully dragged you into your shared apartment. she locked eyes with you, with her aggressive yet charming demeanor taking over her completely.

“anything to say?” she spits. there is nothing to say, you just flirted with her friends and did it to make her jealous, because shes beyond hot like this. so, you just shake your head.

“do you want to fuck them, y/n?” she outright states. obviously, taken aback, you stutter over yourself at the claim made.

“what- what the fuck miyeon?” you can’t help but slightly shout at her, even if you know theres reason behind her anger. she scoffs and laughs to control the situation. “i wasn’t actually flirting, baby, i thought you could tell that?” you say.

“oh yeah?” she looks down but she was still very upset.

“yes,” you practically beg. she steps a bit closer to you, but her face doesnt change or drop.

“you’re such a slut, y/n,” she looks you up and down, finally focusing her eyes on yours with her head tilted a little. you wince a little, in pain from biting down on your tongue.

she places her hands on the back of your head, rubbing on your hair adding to the tension between you. her lips pressed just on the edges of yours. you lean, falling deeper into the temptation. her tongue sliding just enough out that you would feel it.

“you’re mine, okay?” she pulls away. “im gonna make you feel it.” her kiss travels you both into a utopia even if you could feel her anger traveling through her bites.

her arms moving from your head to your hands, pulling you whilst holding the kiss into your room. the romantic gestures don’t last long however, as she practically throws you onto the bed.

“strip for me,” she hisses. you do as she asks, and reveal your curved body to her. she undos her clothes along with you, and lets only a second pass before pouncing onto you.

“im gonna fuck you better than they ever could” she grunts. she slaps her cock against the folds of your entrance, exposed to her touch and the air.

you feel her hands spread your legs just a bit farther apart, enough for her to pound into you. the tip of it pushes your edges, coating itself in your liquids.

“so wet? aren’t you easy,” she smirks at you pushing into your pussy. with a wicked grin, she leans forward rubbing your bodies together. her free hand flicks at your cunt putting your wetness on the head of her dick.

youre core cries out for her touch, and she thrusts her length in to please you. you grip onto her, almost as if you’re pulling her in from desperation.

“you’re going to take it, princess, ‘kay?” with a firm hand, she moves your face up to look at her, like shes trying to ingrain her words into you. “come on, tell me,” her grasp on your chin drags lower, as she tightens it around your neck.

“i promise, i’ll take it,” you squeeze your eyes shut and your lower body quivers, dragging her in farther. “please,” you whisper, digging your nails farther into her back.

she writes her smirk into her hip movement, and she rams her dick into you. this time, she moves in and out of you at a consistent pace.

every hit on your pussy leads your cum to squirt out. she quickens her pace, noticing this, and dips her finger into your sweet nectar, licking it off.

“what a pretty pussy, im gonna breed you y/n,” she sucks the end of her fingers before slapping them gently on your clit, pushing them in the little space next to her cock.

“take it, suck me in, pretty girl,” her praise causes you to moan loudly, unlike anything miyeon has heard from you before.

this only makes her needier to cum inside of you, so she takes your hips and steadies you, and picks you up to have you facing the mirror beside your bed. your ass towards her, and her cock still pushing into you, as you both look at your body in the mirror.

“see, you are so slutty, look at you,” she pounds into you with her fingertips roaming your legs and hips. “i’ll breed your pussy so you really know you’re mine,” she moans into your ear.

miyeon leans back, making you do all the work of riding her length. the sound of skin clapping against each other, bouncing on her, liquids meshing and moans filling the room.

“my good girl,” she grunts into your ear, stabilizing your body once more.

“n-need your cum,” you moan for her. she smirks and you can feel the increasing heat down your neck.

both of your bodies tense up, and the movements become more erratic. you breathing hitches, and miyeon swallows down groans. the sensation between you two is intense and overwhelming yet a type of pleasure only she could make you feel.

her liquids spill into you, making you truly hers. “mmm so good,” she sighs, pulling out of you gently treating your body as her temple. her lips make their way down your neck and back lovingly, as a way of showing gratitude.

“im yours, miyeon, i promise,” you turn around to her, and lay one more kiss for her, and she returns it with a smile.

“just mine.”

[fanfiction4sooya]

i need to hear/read your opinion on this one: g!p cho miyeon as a mafia boss hard dom

my mind has SO MUCH thoughts that I might just combust

Thanks for the ask babe 💖

And well I really can't see her as a hard dom, my girl is so bubbly all the time... BUT

Let's say she is, I think she would be a menace because of how obsessed she'd be with you.

Like imagine you and your friends entering the club she was at and she immediately falls for you, wanting you so bad her cock strains in her pants. It doesn't take much for her men to put you and her in a room together, her charming smile making you melt as she told you she needed to have you forever. And the craziest thing is that you actually thought the same!! (Sapphics am I right)

It takes only a few months for a big wedding to happen. She (possessively) wants you to be hers as fast as possible 😅

I feel like as your dom she'd slowly build you to get exactly how she wanted you to be. First she would lightly slap your face, then whip your ass a bit harder... Until you could really take all she wanted you to take 🫠🫠

I can imagine you on your back, your head upside down for her to use your throat as a fleshlight 🤤 her squeezing your neck as her cock slides in and out of your throat, moaning when she felt how tight it felt. Your wrists tied together under your knees as her free hand held a leather whip to strike your soaked pussy over and over, your screams making you tight around her length every single time the leather made contact with your clit, tears free falling from your eyes because of the pleasure and pain you were feeling. She likes to pull your nipples excruciatingly hard, almost breaking the skin.

She always makes sure to do your aftercare, take time to feel you and to actually help you recover. She is a monster to others, to you she is your kind and considerate wife.

I think she goes quite insane when someone does anything that upsets you, not measuring the consequences of what she'd do to those that troubled her woman... Of course you find it so hot when she protects you, always making sure to reward her by letting her balls deep into any of your holes she preferred to be in 🫠🫠🫠🫠

Oh and tell me about it when she starts size training you to take more than her big cock in your ass...

[lionwin]

★ casual⠀: ⠀Cho miyeon x fem!reader

— “ was it all just casual for you, miyeon? ”

🫀 warning : obvious comphet from miyeon, not so subtle hints of internalized homophobia, angsty yuri. half written. men dni.

word count: 814 words ⭑

-

Was it casual when you asked me to come over almost every single night just because you said you missed me?

“‘love of her life.’ cho miyeon, you’re gonna end up being the death of me.” you thought to yourself, miyeon knew you were gay, you were open about it, feeling as though there was no need to hide that part of yourself from the word because that part was undeniably you. miyeon on the other hand, she had felt attraction to girls, many times actually - though each time she did, she felt the need to hide, to leave like the coward she was.

-

was it casual when you had me come over while you were drunk and asked me to hold you close in my arms and begged me to never leave you?

���miyeon..” you dared to utter out as you felt the older girl’s hands clutch onto you tighter, so tight that you swore you were beginning to lose your breath. “.. hold me. please, n/n.. just hold me.” miyeon said, practically pleading with you. shaky hands moved to wrap around her as you held her. “never leave me.”

silence fell on the two of you as you two laid in the couch of her living room, the sounds of rain creating a sort of ambience for the two. “I won’t. i promise.” with that, miyeon looked up at you with glassy eyes, tears cascading down her face as it fell on your shirt. she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, a kiss that you reciprocated, as always.

-

Was it casual when you told me me that your friends knew about me? about us? was it casual when you called me your love?

-

was it casual when you said you wouldn’t wanna get married unless it was with me?

“Y/n,” You looked at her, her head resting peacefully on your chest as her fingers played with the hem of your shirt. “hm?” miyeon lifted her head to make eye contact, her gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips for a few seconds before she spoke.

“would you ever wanna get married?” her question caught you somewhat off guard though you brushed it off. “well.. yeah, sure, if i met the right girl, i think i’d be okay with marriage. what about you?”

miyeon stared at you for a couple of seconds, seemingly contemplating your answer as she bit on her bottom lip. “.. i don’t wanna get married.” she murmured, moving up a bit to tuck her head into the crook of your neck. “not unless its with you.”

you felt your breath get caught in your throat at her words, you could feel your face get hot and you swore miyeon could feel it too with the way she let out that adoring chuckle. “you’re so corny..” you said though your voice were barely audible. “maybe. but only for you.”

-

we’re we really just casual? I guess so.

-

-

“I guess it really was just casual, huh? maybe it was my fault for thinking we were more than friends, for thinking you genuinely wanted to be with me when this could’ve easily been another friday for you; or maybe it was your fault for treating me like that, for making me feel special, for making me think you liked me.”

[myuareustillsleeping]

valentines with gidle

spending valentines with the gidle members! (ot5)

texts

gidle x f!reader

warnings: none just fluff!

cho miyeon:

minnie /nicha yontararak:

jeon soyeon:

song yuqi:

yeh shuhua:

[prael]

Day 8: Perspective

(G)I-DLE Miyeon x male reader smut

words: 6,693 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

It's all a matter of perspective. From the outside looking in, things can appear vastly different than when viewed up close and personal.

Take, for instance: Miyeon.

Now, look, you're not saying the whole image is only perspective. You wouldn't dream of undermining the fact that the girl who looks like a princess in magazines, on TV and wherever else you might see her, does in fact look every bit as much of a princess in person. The long black hair, the perfect smooth skin, the way she smiles as though she has a wonderful secret she can't wait to tell. Everything about her is as regal and poised as you'd expect.

But that's not the whole story. It never is.

There's a depth to this woman. There's a nuance to her that doesn't translate to the photos. Something you feel more than you can describe.

And, boy, you can feel it.

"God, fuck, I'm close," Miyeon whispers, her words hot against your ear. Her voice is a breathy whisper, so different from the clear tones she uses on stage. She's not singing now—there's nothing practised or perfect in the way she breathes, the way she talks to you. It's natural, and that's what makes it perfect.

Those manicured nails, adored in acrylic and fake jewels burrow into the skin on your shoulders, holding you down as she grinds atop you. Her hips move with all the skill that they do when she's performing, but there's an aggression to it that you don't see when the music is playing. This is a different type of performance—a different rhythm.

Looking up at her as she rides, you would never deny the comparisons. She's beautiful in every sense of the word, and it's hard not to get lost in the sight. There's something about the way the dim light catches her skin. It's like a spotlight on her body, illuminating every curve and dip, and all the shadows in between. It's hard to look away, and when she moves, it's like the light dances on her sweat-stained skin.

Years ago, Miyeon was always the 'lay there and take it' type (and she was so very good at taking it), but these days, there is something raw and wild inside of her. Something that you're not sure what to call, or how it started, or even how to feel about it. All you know is that when the two of you are together, there's an energy in the air that's electric. Like a storm brewing, ready to strike.

It's in the way her eyes lock onto yours as she works her hips up and down your cock, her body trembling with every movement. Her breath is ragged, and she's gasping as if she's running out of oxygen. It's in the way her thighs squeeze around your hips, and her nails dig deeper into your skin. She's riding you like it's her only purpose, her only goal, and the world could be ending around her and she wouldn't stop.

"Cum with me, please," Miyeon begs. And it's truly a beg. It's not a demand or even a polite request. It's a desperate plea, and it's all you need to hear.

Your hands find her slender waist, gripping her, pulling her down hard against you. You thrust, slamming your hips up to meet hers. It's a clash of bodies, and you're not sure where you end and she begins. You share this moment, this sensation. It's as if you're one being, one creature of lust and desire, moving in perfect sync.

Her pussy clenches around you, and her moans fill the air, a song that's just for your ears. Her body shakes, and her eyes flutter shut, her head falling back. You can see her pulse pounding beneath the surface and her chest heaves. She's lost in the sensation, and you're right there with her. You spill into her, your cock throbbing inside as she milks every last drop from you. Her nails scratch down your chest, leaving red lines in their wake, but you barely feel the pain.

When she finally collapses, her body limp and spent, you can't help but pull her close. Her head falls onto your chest, and you wrap your arms around her. Her hair is damp with sweat, and she smells of sex and perfume. She's so light on your chest, but somehow, it's the most comforting weight.

"That was—" you begin, but she stops you.

"Perfect," she whispers.

You chuckle. "Yeah."

"And also the last time."

You don't move at first. You're still breathing heavily, and you can feel her heartbeat against your skin. You're sure she can feel yours, too. You're not sure you heard her right, and you can't bring yourself to respond.

"Did you hear me?" Miyeon asks, her tone suddenly serious.

You swallow hard, then say, "This shit again?"

She sits up, and you can feel the weight of her body leaving yours. You miss it instantly, the warmth of her skin against yours, the way she fit against you perfectly. But now, she's looking down at you, and her expression is hard to read. There's a mix of emotions there, and you can't tell which one is winning.

"Miyeon—" you begin, but she cuts you off.

"Don't," she says. "Don't try to make this something it's not."

"So what the fuck is this?"

She sighs, and you can see the sadness in her eyes. "It's convenient. We have history. We know each other well, but I can't do this anymore."

You're not sure how to respond. You've done this dance before, so many times that you've lost count. And yet, every time, it still stings. You wonder if she'll ever tire of this cycle, or if it's just a part of who she is.

"Look," she says, her voice softening. "I care about you. I do. But... I can't keep doing this."

"You say that every time," you reply, your voice a mix of frustration and resignation.

She looks away, and you can see the guilt in her expression. "I know," she says. "But this time, I mean it. I can't keep hurting you like this. It's not fair to you."

It's all a matter of perspective. From the outside looking in, the two of you might look like young adults in love. Sharing intimacy and vulnerability in the rawest sense. But from the inside looking out, you can't help but feel like you're trapped in a cycle you can't break. It's like a never-ending rollercoaster, with highs that leave you breathless and lows that leave you feeling empty.

"You know what?" you say, sitting up and looking her in the eye. "I'm done with this shit. Every time things seem to settle, you blow it up. What is it? Are you scared of being comfortable?"

"It's not about that," she says, her voice defensive. She slips back a little, drawing herself off your limp cock and resting between your legs on the bed, her thigh resting atop yours. "We're touring soon and I have to prepare. I don't want you to think you'll be able to come see me, or that we can continue to do this. It's over."

"Touring, huh?" you scoff. "That's the same excuse you used before. What about when you're back from touring? What then?" You shake your head. "You drop me a text at 2 am and ask me to come over?"

She looks at you, and for a moment, you think she might waver. But then she shakes her head. "No," she says, her voice firm. "This is it. It's over."

-

It starts in Seoul, you've spent the last few months seeing the posters everywhere. The subway, the billboards, the bus stops, and even the side of buildings. You can't escape them. The images are larger than life, with Miyeon in the centre. She's smiling, her teeth bright white and her eyes sparkling. She's beautiful, as she always is. Around her are the other members of (G)I-DLE, dressed in matching outfits, looking every bit as perfect as she is, and yet, they pale in comparison.

You can't look away from the images. They seem to follow you wherever you go, a constant reminder of what could have been. What could have been, but never will be. It's been a month since you last saw her, and yet you see her every day.

And it's not just the posters. It's the commercials, too. You'll be watching TV, minding your own business, and suddenly, there she is. Selling makeup or shampoo or some other product you have no interest in. But you can't turn away. You're drawn to her, even though you know it's only going to hurt.

You're in the supermarket, trying to get your groceries, when you see the magazine covers. There she is, looking perfect, as always. Her hair is styled, and her makeup is flawless. She's wearing a dress that clings to her curves, and her legs seem to go on forever. It's a far cry from the way she looks when she's with you, but you can't deny that she's still beautiful.

You pick up the magazine, flipping through the pages. There she is, in an interview. She's talking about her upcoming tour and her plans for the future. She's confident and charming, as always. You can't help but read the whole thing, even though you know it's not healthy.

And now, you're in line at the convenience store, picking up some ramen for dinner. You glance up at the TV in the corner, and there she is. Performing. She's on some music show, singing and dancing with the other members of (G)I-DLE. She's in perfect sync with the others, her movements fluid and graceful.

It's not just the public images that haunt you. It's the personal ones, too. The ones you took of her, of the two of you together. You have them all saved on your phone, a constant reminder of what you had. You try not to look at them, but sometimes you can't resist. It's normally what tides you over, between the time when she calls you and in the most innocent of voices, tells you that you should meet.

There are other girls, of course. Your attempts at getting over her by getting under someone else. But the thing is, every girl in Seoul seems to want to be just like Miyeon. You go out on a date with a cute girl, she'll be wearing Miyeon's makeup and her clothes. At a club, a girl will be wearing her perfume. She's everywhere, and you can't escape her. It's maddening.

So you buy one of them a drink. Try to forget about Miyeon for a night. Even when you're between another girl's legs and she's writhing, it's the thought of Miyeon's face that pushes you over the edge. You've even tried to avoid it. You've taken girls that look nothing like her, but it doesn't seem to matter. They're all just a distraction, a way to numb the pain.

And you can't help but feel like you're going to lose your mind.

It's a rainy day when you finally see her. You're walking home from work, huddled under your umbrella, when you spot her across the street. She's walking with her head down, trying to avoid the rain. You stop, and for a moment, you're frozen. You don't know what to do. Should you cross the street and talk to her? Should you pretend you haven't seen her?

Before you can decide, she looks up and sees you. There's a flash of recognition on her face, and then a smile. A real smile. You can't help but smile back.

But she keeps walking.

-

It's just two days out. The opening show of (G)I-DLE's world tour. You've managed to avoid it. You've had no interest in buying a ticket. It's not the music. You still listen to them, and they put on a great performance. It's more the idea of it. You don't want to be part of the crowd, just one face in a sea of fans.

You're drowning your sorrows over a few drinks at some hole in the wall. It's a familiar place. The mood is all youthful energy. It's a record bar, and it's one you're familiar with. You've lost count of the number of times you've waited here, with Miyeon's apartment around the corner, waiting for the text to tell you it's all clear. It's not why you're here, so maybe it's a strange choice, but the records on the wall, the music pumping through the speakers and the drinks in your belly makes it easier to forget.

A girl comes and sits beside you. She's cute, in a plain sort of way. She's not trying too hard. You've been watching her since she came in. She's with a group, but they've been playing darts, and she's come over to the bar by herself. She sits and orders a drink, and for a moment, the two of you just sit there, not saying anything.

You can see her glancing at you out of the corner of your eye. You know she's interested. You know the game. You've played it before.

Maybe you could spend the evening talking to her, maybe even take her home. But the idea doesn't appeal to you. You're not in the mood. Not for her.

So opportunity passes. A man walks up, some business type in a suit. He sits on the other side of her, and the two strike up a conversation. You watch her laugh at his jokes, and he buys her a drink. There's a pang of jealousy, not over this girl in particular, but the fact that he can have this light-hearted fun without the baggage weighing over him.

He doesn't have a Miyeon-shaped hole in his head, but maybe that's just a matter of perspective.

-

You're not drunk. You're sure of that.

Maybe careless is the right word. You've had a few drinks, but not enough to impair your judgment. You're just a little loose, a little less concerned with the consequences of your actions. So you're pressing the button for the top floor of the apartment building you're in, and you're on your way up.

It's not an entirely conscious decision. It's more of a compulsion. You're not sure what you're going to do when you get there, but you can't help yourself. The elevator doors slide open, and you step out into the hallway.

It's late. The lights are dimmed, and the only sound is the hum of the air conditioning. You walk down the hallway, your footsteps echoing on the hardwood floors. You stop in front of the door. Apartment 1801.

You knock. There's no answer. You knock again, and this time, you can hear movement inside.

Miyeon opens the door, and for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. She's dressed in an oversized white shirt, and her hair is messy, as though she's been asleep.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" she asks, her eyes narrowed.

"I don't know," you reply, and it's the truth. You really don't know what you're doing here. You just know that you needed to see her, to be near her. Even if it's just for a moment.

"This is a bad idea," she says, and she starts to close the door. But you reach out and stop her, your hand on the door frame. You're not sure what you're expecting. Maybe for her to yell at you, or tell you to go to hell.

But she doesn't. Instead, she just sighs, and she steps aside, letting you in.

Things are a bit of a mess inside, you can't blame her, she's about to spend months travelling from city to city. Her suitcases are sprawled all over, clothes are laid out on the sofa, and the coffee table is covered in books and papers.

"You can't keep doing this," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've got my tour starting, and we can't keep doing this. I'm leaving the country soon, so I can't keep... seeing you. You need to find someone else."

"I know," you reply, and you do. You know you can't keep doing this. You know you need to move on, to find someone else. But it's hard.

You step closer to her, and she doesn't move away. Your hands find her waist, and you pull her closer to you. She doesn't resist, and for a moment, the two of you are just standing there, breathing in each other's scent. And you can't help but think of all the times you've been in this exact position, with your hands on her waist and her body pressed against yours. You think of all the times you've kissed her, touched her, fucked her. All the times you've shared.

"I just came to say goodbye," you whisper, and you mean it. You don't expect anything from her. You're not even sure why you're here. You just know that you need to see her one last time before you say goodbye for good.

She looks up at you, and there's something in her eyes that you can't quite read. It's not anger or sadness. It's more like resignation.

"Goodbye, then," she says, and she kisses you.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative. But it quickly grows more intense. Your hands slide down to cup her ass, and you lift her. She wraps her legs around your waist, and the two of you stumble backwards until you hit the wall. Her hands are in your hair, pulling at the strands as she kisses you with a ferocity that takes your breath away.

Beneath the shirt is only a pair of panties, tight against her ass. You run your hands over them, squeezing and groping, and she moans into your mouth. Her hips grind against yours, and you can feel her heat through the fabric of her panties. You want her, and you know she wants you, too.

"Fuck me one last time," she whispers in your ear, and you don't need to be told twice. Miyeon wraps her thighs high on your waist, making you crane your neck back a little to keep kissing her, but it means you can unbuckle your trousers and push them down. Your hands are back on her ass, pulling her panties to the side, and your fingers run through her lower lips. She's wet. She's already ready for you. She always has been, from the first time to this one.

She's so light that it makes it easy to step forward and turn, now it's her turn to be pinned against the wall. Holding Miyeon by that tight little ass, you lower her onto your cock and she fits so easily that she slides down the entire length. Her head is thrown back, and her mouth hangs open in pleasure.

There's a gasp, of both surprise and pleasure as you fill her. You can feel her walls stretching around you, accommodating your size. You give her a moment to get used to the feeling, and then you start to move. You pull out almost all the way, before sliding back in, and her moans fill the air. Her body is pressed tightly against yours, and you can feel her heartbeat racing.

Her shoulders are pressed square against the wall, it's enough to support her. Her legs are tight around your waist. Every time you pull back, you draw her hips away from the wall, only to drive her back against it with every thrust. She bounces between the hard surface and your cock. It's so forceful that you're worried you might break something, and that only drives you to fuck her harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin is loud in the apartment, and you're sure the neighbours can hear, but you don't care.

You're nailing Miyeon to the wall with the sort of rough recklessness that only comes at the end of a relationship. You have no more fucks left to give about the consequences, and you're making the most of your last hurrah.

Miyeon's moaning loudly, her voice rising in pitch with every thrust. You're hitting all the right spots, and you can tell she's close. You angle your hips in the way you know she likes, and she cries out, her body shaking as she comes undone around you. You keep going, fucking her through her orgasm, and it's not long before you're close to the edge too.

Miyeon's moans are in your ear, they're so familiar. The way her body moves with yours. It's a sensation that's been burned into your memory, and you can't imagine ever forgetting it. You feel her nails scratching at your shirt. It's not enough to break skin, but you'll feel it tomorrow, a dull ache in your back.

"Give me a night to remember," she whispers, her voice breathy and desperate. "Fuck me so hard that I can't forget."

You're stumbling towards the kitchen table now, and she's clinging to you as if her life depended on it. You set her down, planting her cute ass on the glass surface. You set her back with a gentle hand on her chest, lying her flat against the surface, her hair splayed out behind her. She's looking up at you with that regal stare, the one she gives in the magazines, but it's not the perfect image you've seen on the posters. No, Miyeon's flush, and she's all the better for it.

In the most loving way you can, you tell her, "I hate you."

"I hate you, too."

Your hands are on her thighs, pushing them apart, and she's so wet that you can see it glistening on her skin. You slide into her easily, and she cries out as you bottom out inside her. You start to move, but it's uncharacteristically slow. "Take off your shirt," you tell her.

Her hands are too shaky for the small buttons but she's trying her best, starting from the bottom and working up. Even with your controlled thrusts, Miyeon is distracted and her hands slip more than once. You don't help, you just keep your grip on her thighs and watch the show.

A few buttons later the shirt is falling open at her stomach. Slender and toned, but still soft. The years of performing have given her a body worth worshipping. Every little defined line is an accomplishment of its own, and you've been there to appreciate them. You plant a hand on her abs and push her down against the table. Her hands are still struggling with the buttons.

"Come on," you say. "You're taking forever."

"Fuck you," she gasps.

You can't help but chuckle, and then you pick up the pace, fucking her a little faster, a little harder. Her hands are shaking even more now, and you're not making it any easier for her. She struggles another one open, then another, and then her shirt is open, exposing her bare chest to you.

You're not in a hurry now. You're taking your time, enjoying the sight of her naked body. Her breasts are perfect teardrops, with small, pink nipples that are hard and begging to be touched. You take one in your hand, rolling it between your fingers, and she arches her back, pressing her chest into your touch. You pinch her nipple lightly, and she cries out, her hips bucking against yours.

You're still fucking her, still driving into her with long, deep strokes, and you can feel her body start to tense up as she gets closer and closer to her release. You want to make this last, but the thing about Miyeon is that she's just so easy to make cum.

She throws her hands above her head, showing herself in all her carnal glory, and her back arches off the table. Her mouth is open in a silent scream, and her eyes are screwed shut. It's beautiful, and it's also the reason you know you're not over her. Maybe you never will be. It's not just the physical attraction, it's something more, and you're not sure what it is, but it's there.

You take hold of her ankles, pulling her legs up so the underside of her thighs rests against your stomach, and her calves lie on your shoulders. Miyeon's ankles cross behind your neck, holding on tight while you keep fucking her.

Now every thrust is punctuated by a slap against her thighs, the sound is almost as beautiful as her moans.

It doesn't matter whether she loves you, or even cares about you, and you've long learned not to ask questions that you won't like the answer to. When you both need each other the most, you find a way back together. So maybe that's love. In a strange, fucked up sort of way.

There are tears in her eyes now, and you know that they're not from pain. There's a tremble in her body, and you can tell she's about to lose it. You want to take her through it, so you take a second to adjust the angle you're fucking her at, hitting that spot that drives her crazy. It's a simple change, a different hip placement, and suddenly, you're slamming against that spot, over and over, making sure every movement is perfect.

"Don't stop, I'm-" she tries, but her words trail off into incoherence. Her body spasms and her pussy clenches around you like a vice. She lets out a strangled moan, her limbs locked in place as she shakes and shudders, lost in pleasure.

You can only admire the spectacle of it all, she is a performer after all. Her body is a work of art, every curve, every line, designed just for your eyes. This is a sight you've had many times before, and each time it feels like the first, even when it's the last.

You can't allow it to end, it's a determined thought that you repeat over and over as you hold back your orgasm, instead opting to pick Miyeon up. You carry her just a few steps until you fall back onto the sofa. The show must go on.

Her legs spread wide around your hips. You let her sit back on your lap and slowly ride you, her hips moving lazily as she catches her breath. It's not fast enough to get either of you off, but it's enough to keep the fire burning. You're leaning back, just admiring the sight of her. She looks down at you with hooded eyes, biting her lip, lost in her pleasure. Your hands explore her body, roaming over her smooth skin, feeling her muscles flex as she moves. She leans back a little further, placing a hand against your knee to steady herself. That new angle hits a sweet spot inside her, and her eyes flutter shut, her lips parting slightly.

"You really want this to be the last time you ride me?" you ask. It's not much of an argument, but you don't want this to be over.

Her movements are languid, she rolls her hips sensually, the tempo steady as she grinds against you. "It's... for the best."

She sounds unconvincing, even to herself, and her voice trails off as she loses herself to the pleasure. She leans forward again, bracing herself with her hands on your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin. She picks up the pace, her hips rocking back and forth, riding you with purpose.

"That's it," you breathe, meeting her movements with your own, pushing deeper inside her. "Don't act like you aren't gonna miss this."

Her fingers dig into your shoulders even harder, and she rides you with renewed vigour, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth hanging open. You can tell she's getting close, her body trembling with the effort, her thighs quivering around you. Her perky little tits bounce their most seductive dance, drawing your hand towards one. You cup it so perfectly in your palm and Miyeon lets out the softest of whines.

"Miss it," Miyeon pants. "But we... we can't."

You take that as the cue, you grab her waist and thrust up into her tight, warm cunt. She cries out, and you do it again, and again, and again. You slam into her, your hips lifting off the sofa, fucking her hard and fast. She's panting now, her head thrown back, her hair a tangled mess. She's bouncing on your cock, her breasts shaking with every thrust. Her thighs clench around you, and she starts to cum, her walls convulsing around you. You keep fucking her, prolonging her pleasure, milking every last bit of bliss from her.

When she finally collapses on top of you, her body spent and exhausted, you roll her over and lay her out on the sofa. She's limp, barely able to move. Her eyes are unfocused, staring up at you with a dazed expression. She looks completely and utterly satisfied. It's almost a shame that she has a flight in a few hours.

With what little energy remains, she hooks one leg over the back of the sofa, presenting herself to you. You spread her legs wider and lower your head between them.

"It's not like anyone else can make you cum like I can," you say, running your tongue along her slit. She's hot and swollen from all the fucking, but she's dripping wet, and you lap up her juices eagerly.

"That's not the point," Miyeon groans right before she clasps her thighs around your head.

If the only way you could ever make your points was between Miyeon's legs, well that would be alright by you. But for now, you settle for latching onto her clit and sucking firmly, while she writhes beneath you, her back arching off the sofa. Miyeon tastes how only Miyeon can, and you lick, suck and slurp up every drop you can get.

You keep your hands busy, roaming her perfect skin, groping her ass, her thighs, and finally, when she's so close to the edge, slipping two fingers into her tight hole. The sensation is overwhelming. You can feel her walls tighten around your digits, squeezing them hard as you finger-fuck her. You twist and curl your fingers, finding that spot that drives her crazy, and her hips buck up to meet your hand, grinding against you.

The sensation is mind-numbing, but you refuse to yield. You keep licking and sucking, your fingers pounding in and out of her. She's a whimpering mess, her hands gripping the armrest of the sofa, her knuckles white. Her eyes are screwed shut, and she's biting her lip so hard you think she might draw blood. You can feel her walls clamp down around you, and you know she's close. You press on, doubling your efforts, determined to make her cum so hard that she forgets her name. You want to ruin her.

"Please don't stop," she begs. "Just keep doing that and I'm gonna-"

As if you'd stop now. You redouble your efforts, fucking her with your fingers, curling them just right, pressing against that spot that makes her toes curl. You feel a rush of wetness as she cums, her thighs clamping around your head, trapping you there. You don't stop, you keep finger-fucking her, extending her orgasm. Her body twitches and spasms, and you keep licking and sucking, drinking down every last drop of her pleasure.

When it's finally over, you look up to see Miyeon sprawled out on the sofa. "We can't keep doing this." Her chest heaving, and she's covered in sweat. She looks completely fucked out, and you love it. It's a moment to commit to memory whenever you happen across her image, so easily found these days. You want her to remember this too.

"One last one," you say, and she shakes her head, but you already know she'll give in. She always does. Because she needs this as much as you do. One more chance to enjoy each other. She doesn't resist when you guide her into position, flipping her over so she's on all fours, presenting her perfect ass to you. Miyeon reaches back, spreading her cheeks and inviting you in, while looking back at you from over her shoulder.

Miyeon doesn't moan, she squeals in delight when you sink inside of her. If it had felt good earlier, it's nothing compared to now. She's so slick and loose from previous orgasms that you slip into her with ease, filling her up completely. Your hands grip her hips, pulling her back onto you with every thrust, and she meets you eagerly, pushing back against you.

"Do you really think you're ready to give this up?" you ask, as you pound into her, your balls slapping against her clit with each thrust. "To never feel my cock inside you again?"

"Done it before," Miyeon responds through gritted teeth. She doesn't sound certain. You wrap a hand around her neck and pull her upright, holding her flush against you. With your other arm around her waist, you pin her against your chest while she desperately rolls her hips in search of stimulation.

"Yet you came right back, didn't you?" you whisper in her ear, before letting her go. Miyeon falls forward, catching herself on her forearms. Her hands grip the armrest and you plant a firm spank on her ass. "Always do."

Miyeon stops craning her neck to look back at you, faces forward and then says probably the last thing you would expect, "I have a boyfriend."

Your motions are seized, bringing the whole encounter to a sudden, crashing halt. You don't know what to say, so you just stay there, inside her.

"You weren't supposed to come here tonight," Miyeon mutters. "We weren't supposed to do this ever again."

"So... why did you?"

"Because I'm stupid. And I can't get enough of you. It's hard to say no when you show up with that look in your eyes."

She keeps talking, but you can't hear her. Your mind is racing. Jealousy stirs in the pit of your stomach, and the urge to claim what's yours takes over.

Your hands grip Miyeon's hips, pulling her back onto you roughly. She yelps, her body jolting as you slide deeper inside her. "Then tell me to stop and I will."

There's hesitation in her response. For just a brief moment, she hesitates, like she's actually considering it.

"Don't stop."

It's all you need. Your grip tightens, fingers digging into her flesh as you pull her back onto you again and again. Your hips snap forward with each thrust, burying yourself inside her completely.

You take hold of her hair, wrapping it around your fist, pulling her head back, exposing the elegant column of her neck, making her back arch. It's beautiful, like something straight out of a painting. She whimpers, a little mewl that's equal parts pain and pleasure, and the noise only spurs you on, driving you to fuck her harder, faster, your pace relentless.

"Don't stop!" she pleads, her voice ragged, desperate.

The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the lewd squelch of your cock plunging into her wet cunt, and the creaking of the couch beneath you, all punctuated by her moans and cries, rising in pitch, her voice breaking. Each thrust seems to draw another sound from her, a symphony of ecstasy.

Her nails drag across the leather surface of the couch, as you drive into her petite frame with unrestrained abandon. You fuck her like a toy, like a tool built to extract pleasure from your cock, and she takes it because it's what she needs. What you both need. And maybe that's the root of your problem. The way you feed off each other. The way you're drawn together like magnets, no matter how hard you try to resist.

You reach under Miyeon with one hand, rubbing furious circles around her engorged clit, while the other wraps loosely around her throat. You apply pressure, not enough to cut off her air completely, just enough to make her aware of your power over her. The way she surrenders herself to you, trusting you to take her to heights of pleasure she's never experienced with anyone else, it's intoxicating.

And Miyeon knows it, the little tease. She uses it to her advantage. She uses you to fulfil her deepest desires, knowing full well that you'll oblige.

You should hate her for it. A rational person would.

You feel Miyeon tense up beneath you, her body stiffening as you relentlessly rub her clit, and you can feel her orgasm approaching, building deep within her core. She gasps, her breaths coming in shallow pants, her fingers scrabbling for purchase against the sofa. She pushes back against you, meeting your thrusts with equal fervour, her body desperate for release.

And you give it to her. Hard. Without relent. Your hand presses firmer against her clit, your other wrapped loosely around her neck, her delicate skin hot and sweaty against your palm, pulsing in time with her beating heart.

"Look at me," you grunt. Miyeon turns her head and it's all in those big beautiful brown eyes. Eyes you've gazed into so often. Eyes you've missed seeing these last few weeks. She's so close that you could lean forward and kiss her, but you resist, choosing to prolong her agony just a little longer. "Cum for me."

Miyeon obeys, surrendering herself completely. Her eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering shut as she crashes over the edge, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. You don't let up, you keep pumping, driving her through it, keeping her flying high. Your fingers rub faster, harder against her sensitive nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. Her body shudders and shakes, her walls clamping down around you, milking you in waves. It's an incredible sensation, the way she squeezes you, and pulls you deeper into her depths, urging you to join her in ecstasy.

She's spilling down onto the sofa. Miyeon is rarely this messy, but it only happens when you really put her through the wringer, when she's so overwhelmed by pleasure that her body loses all control, giving itself over entirely to the blissful release.

She might be someone else's girlfriend now, but you're still going to fill her.

That thought pushes you past the breaking point. With a primal roar, you bury yourself inside her, bottoming out inside her depths, and you spill your seed deep within her core, coating her walls with your warmth, claiming her for yourself.

Miyeon falls limply to the cushions. She lies there, breathless, her chest heaving, her hair dishevelled. The sounds of her pleasure fade, replaced by the sounds of heavy breathing. Your chest rises and falls in rhythm with hers. You slump over her, supporting yourself on weak forearms so that you hover inches above her.

Her limp little body slips off you and onto the couch. Miyeon just lies there, panting, her chest heaving, her eyes closed. She's coated in sweat and her hair is plastered to her forehead. Her clothes are scattered all over the floor, and she lies in a pool of her own mess.

"You should leave," she whispers. You want to stay and argue the case, but you know that the ship has sailed. So you nod.

Miyeon doesn't watch you leave, she remains curled up on the sofa, with a mixture of your juices seeping out of her pussy and leaving a mess on the leather cushions. She waits until she hears the door click shut behind you to even move.

Once more for old time's sake. Once more for closure. It was fun while it lasted, but now it's over. 

Though, you would argue, it’s all just a matter of perspective.

[daddyfordaeddy]

Smut starts under cut, please be aware

Pairings x f! human! Reader (separated by fic): Dragon! Yunho, Kitsune! Minho (SKZ), Werewolf! Seonghwa, Tentacle Monster! Joy, Vampire! Wooyoung and Incubus! Mingi, Shapeshifter! Jongho, Ghost! Miyeon

Word Count: 1.3k

Genre: Haunted house au, smut, porn without plot, supernatural au, E for Explicit, smut warnings under cut

Summary: Moving into a house that the realtor claimed was haunted brought you more pleasure than pain...literally.

Smut warnings (in order): Monster fucking, oral (f & m), dacryphilia, overstimulation (f), creampie, breeding kink, lactation kink, multiple penetration, aphrodisiac (implied consensual), threesome, biting, size kink, fingering (f),

There's a lot, so lmk if i missed any!

-

This is written for thirst week! You can find @flurrys-creativity masterlist, @sanjoongie masterlist, and @mingsolo masterlist! <3

This was supposed to be posted last week but i forgot lol x) hope you enjoy!

-

Yunho - Suckday

“Shit–” you moan, or at least try to around the giant, thick, and ridged cock slamming in and out of your mouth. When the realtor mentioned the house being haunted, this wasn’t what you imagined. Not that you were complaining. Sometimes it was nice to come home and empty your brain of all thoughts other than just letting yourself get fucked seven ways from Sunday.

The grip Yunho has on your hair provides a dull pain that you barely register, his sharp claws trailing down your scalp and sending tingles down your spine. “God, you’re swallowing me so fucking well,” he groans, a rumble in his throat as his dick twitches in your throat. “So pretty when you cry and choke on my cock.”

Without warning, the first stream of come spurts down your throat and you gulp it down like its ambrosia. The amount spilling out of his length is too much though, and you can feel it dribbling out of your lips and sliding back down his cock to his balls. Your throat is working overtime as gurgling noises echo around the room.

After a long moment, Yunho pulls your head off his cock, and chuckles at the dried tear streaks on your cheeks and the creamy white painting your lips and neck. “You’re already this wrecked at the second load? Hold on, baby, because there’s a lot more to come.”

Lee Minho (Skz) - Moanday

The rough tongue of the kitsune sends sensations you’ve never felt up and down your spine and your back arches as you grab at Minho’s ginger locks and moan. It feels like no words are leaving your mouth, or even entering your mind, as he licks into you like it’s his last meal.

His chin is glistening with your release, but he doesn’t care as all he’s chasing are the moans falling from your mouth with ease. “You sound so good,” Minho mumbles into your dripping cunt, lapping at your clit. “Could eat you out for hours until you’re hoarse, and it still won’t be enough for me.”

Instead of gracing him with a response, you gasp and shriek as he nips at your clit and shoves three fingers in your clenching hole. You already know becoming hoarse is inevitable.

Seonghwa - Tongueday

You feel like your body is no longer your own as Seonghwa knots you for the second time this evening, your pussy raw from the pounding he gave you not two minutes prior. As your mouth drops open, Seonghwa leans in, shoving his long tongue into your mouth and mapping out the walls with his tongue. You moan tiredly around the muscle.

The only sounds filling the room is the wet noises of his hips gyrating into you and him licking into your mouth, his sharp teeth scraping against your lower lip. “Gonna pump you full of my cubs, yeah? Fill you up until you’re dripping me for hours to come. When my litter comes I’ll just fuck you full of another,” he moans, his hands gripping your waist as his dick twitches, spilling more come inside of your already-stuffed womb.

He moves his head, travelling his tongue down your neck and chest until it reaches your tits, the tip of it flicking at your nipple and you sigh at the feeling. “Your milk will taste so sweet, mommy,” he whines, nuzzling into your breasts. “Can’t wait to knock you up.”

Sooyoung - Wetday

The slick sounds of Sooyoung’s tentacles sliding in and out of your stuffed cunt and ass, as well as your mouth, are the only sounds that fill the room. You’re unable to make a noise due to the slick limb in your mouth, and Sooyoung isn’t very vocal, instead preferring to watch her extra limbs explore your body silently.

Your body is covered by the thick wetness coating every one of her tentacles, sending a warm tingle like a relaxant. It’s also slowly dripping down your throat, sending a comforting haze through your mind. You’re thankful for it—you’re not quite sure you could handle two tentacles in your cunt and one in your ass otherwise. More days than not you request it, and Sooyoung is happy to oblige you either way.

They’re exploring your body, playing with your nipples, your ass, tightening around your throat, but you never feel any sense of panic or danger. Perhaps the natural aphrodisiac helps with it, but even when you don't want to ingest any (usually when you want to kiss her), you’re always relaxed for Sooyoung.

Out of everyone, Sooyoung is the gentlest, and it’s something you’re always grateful for.

Wooyoung & Mingi - Thirstday

“Look at our pretty girl,” Wooyoung grins, all teeth and sharpness, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “All ready for us to feed. Such a good girl.”

 Mingi’s large hands grip your hips from behind, rutting his huge cock on your ass. “So pliant and ready. We really lucked out this time. We’ll have a good time tonight.”

Wooyoung hums in agreement, before lowering his face to the crook of your neck. A long sniff is the only warning you get before he sinks his teeth into your skin and a moan rips its way out of your throat at the sharp pain. It’s quickly silenced by the incubus behind you sliding into your cunt, pushing past your folds and spearing into you.

As Wooyoung’s teeth leave your throat, you throw your head back and gasp as pleasure courses through your body from Mingi’s energy. “Shit– I’m gonna–”

Mingi chuckles low against your ear as Wooyoung re-attaches to your neck. “Coming already? You’re still this pent-up after four other days of the guys fucking you? God, you’re going to be so delicious. Just let go, YN.”

His words affect you, and your body instantly relaxes into both his and Wooyoung’s hold. “Good girl.”

Jongho - Freakday

Your mouth drops open but no sound comes out as you feel Jongho’s thick cock entering you. You should’ve known what would happen if you teased the shapeshifter about his size, and now you’re reaping the punishment…or is it more of a reward?

You don’t have the time or the brain space to think about it as long fingers enter your mouth, pushing against your tongue until drool spills over your lips. Another hand makes its way around your throat, and two others find their way to your breasts.

It doesn’t take long for you to become a whining, drooling mess as Jongho’s thick cock grants you no reprieve. “Gonna take it back?” Jongho hisses into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your already warm cheek. “Or am I gonna have to fill up your ass with another cock, teach you a real lesson?”

Before you can answer, if you even could, the hand around your throat tightens and you choke on his fingers and clench around his length.

Miyeon - Saturday

Miyeon’s chest is warm, her breasts pressing into your back as she thrusts up lazily. “Look how well you’re stretching for me,” she hums, her cold fingers trailing down your skin to flick your clit, causing you to gasp and bury your head into her neck. “Don’t look away, YNie, and don’t make me ask again.”

You whine a little but when Miyeon tsks, you bring your head up to look at where her transparent fingers are pushing into you, and she is right. You really can see just how well the ghost stretches you out, your walls greedily sucking her in every time she pulls out. It’s entrancing, and if the shame didn’t hit you every so often, you’re not sure you could pull your eyes away.

“God, you’re still so fucking tight, even for my fingers,” Miyeon groans, her other hand moving from your waist to your chest, playing with your nipples. “After this week and your cunt is still so fucking greedy for more. You’re so fucking incorrigible, baby. You really are a perfect match for us.”

With a chuckle, she thrusts up one more time, pressing a third finger into your cunt, where you can see your release dribble out and coat your thighs. Your body relaxes into her body but you know this whole week will restart tomorrow.

And you can’t deny, you’re looking forward to it.

[shinestarhwaa]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS || CHO MIYEON

This piece broke me, apologies x

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Miyeon x Fem reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Tags/Warnings: Closeted lesbians, Forbidden Love, High society/Bridgerton inspired, 1800s, Princess!Miyeon, Aged down Miyeon (you and her are both 18 years old), unprotected sex, virginity loss, make outs, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, scissoring, overstimulation, grinding/humping, emotional damage, heartbreak

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @wh0re4yunsangho

ENJOY!

February 10th, 1815

You couldn't help but look at her all night. It was as if the entire world paused and only she, she was moving. In fact, she was moving right into your heart and you swore you could literally feel it swell in your chest.

She was absolutely magnificent in her gown, hair pinned up and a beautiful, shining crown in her hair. The jewelry she wore must cost millions and she truly did look like a million dollars, as they say. If only she'd look at you, right? And if only you were a man of royalty because how else would you ever be with her?

Yes, you were lucky enough to be born in the high society class, in a family that was wealthy, but the smile you wore everyday is fake. Your mother and father didn't marry out of love and they couldn't stand each other, always fighting. Honestly, you were used to it and you could definitely handle it, but that doesn't mean it hasn't had a negative effect on you and your sisters.

All five of them were different from you, they're more to the standard. Alice, Idylia, Florence and Genevieve were all married now to their husbands and the eldest two even had children. Florence and Genevieve both got married last season and your mother now forced you to find a husband this year's season.

You hated it, the way things were arranged in the society, but you couldn't possibly break the rules that have been the standard for so long. But you really do not want to fit into the society's standard, you are too emancipated according to your family and most important of all; you'd have to marry a man while all you can think about is princess Miyeon.

Princess Miyeon and her beautiful hair, her slim body, deer eyes and her elegant manners. You were a little clumsier than that, and you didn't truly mind but somehow you wished you were more elegant and calculated so maybe she'd like you. But you had to get those thoughts out of your head, you told yourself, nothing could ever happen. You are a woman and she's the royal princess, she's the heir, she's to be queen one day. She'll probably be excited to have a king by her side to rule the country with.

But fuck, you wanted her. You had met her long ago and spoke to her a few times because you played together as kids when the adults held their party's or fancy balls if you will. As you and Miyeon turned older she got more reserved, held back and protected by her family. She looked sad though, she must want to be more free.

Suddenly you looked eyes with her and you swore your heart stopped. She flashed you a smile and walked up to you. "Y/N, it is lovely to see you again, it has been a long time, hasn't it?" She said. You bowed to her and smiled kindly. "Princess Miyeon, your grace, I'm glad to see you again too, it has been years indeed."

"The ball is kinda boring, is it not?" She giggled. You smiled, recognizing the mischief she had in her eyes when she was still an innocent child. When the world hadn't caused her pain yet. "It sure is a quiet one," you nodded.

"Do you wanna go for a walk? Let's sneak out," she grinned. It truly was just like old times again. The two of you slipped away from the stunning ballroom and ran through the halls. Your heels were clicking on the floor and your giggles and laughs were echoing throughout the halls.

Miyeon stopped running and entered the balcony, taking a deep breath as she leans on the cold white stone. "Your grace, isn't it too cold to be outside? It is still winter and I do not want you to catch a cold," you said worriedly, stepping onto the balcony with her.

She grinned and sighed. "It does not matter, Y/N. I'm just glad I finally can breathe again. I love the fresh air and I hate staying inside all day, drinking tea with my mother. Ever since my father died she's been so..."

Miyeon stopped talking and sighed. Your heart sank, remembering the terrible news from last year when it was announced the queen's husband; king Theodore had fallen sick and passed away in his sleep.

"It has been hard on her, and now she's making it even harder for me because she's pushing me to get married and have children so there'll be more heirs."

Princess Miyeon is the only child of Queen Isabella and the late king Theodore, as they hadn't spend much time together in their younger years due to wars and battles. Queen Isabella raised her on her own while also ruling the country. You had felt bad for Miyeon, it must be a tough and lonely life for her. Maybe, just maybe, you could spend more time with her, as a friend?

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

April 29th 1815

Time passed and you and Miyeon had actually gotten closer to her as a friend. The queen was glad Miyeon had a lady of great class that Miyeon could trust so she elected you to be the princess' court. You'd spend a lot of time with her, the queen told you, and to be honest you couldn't be happier.

In public you were very professional but behind closed doors you joked and played around like every normal 18-year old girl. You drank tea together and discussed all the drama and gossip going around and you shared wisdom with one another, reading books together.

Today Miyeon was feeling particularly mischievous and she took you with her to one of the big libraries in the palace. You were checking out the books when all of a sudden her voice called out to you.

''Y/N, What do you know about the marital act?''

You froze and looked at her. ''The marital act? You mean the wedding night... occurrence?'' ''Yeah, do you know what that is?'' You sat on the couch next to her and looked at the book she held in her hands. ''I don't know much about that, actually, my family has never told me about it except for my sister Florence. She told me there's a thing that married people do and that's how children are made.''

Miyeon nodded and opened the dusty book. It revealed texts about the marital act with pictures and details of male and female anatomy. ''That's what a naked man looks like? That is the...'' ''That's the penis,'' you said, nodding. ''It looks strange,'' Miyeon comments. You nodd and sigh. ''I agree, I'm not really... attracted to it. Or the man,'' you say. You mentally slap yourself for basically confirming your sexuality but Miyeon seems to skip over it.

''I have never seen it before. I have only seen myself naked.''

You felt like your skin was on fire, why did she have to talk about her being naked? As if you hadn't imagined that enough already. ''Are women's bodies different?'' she asks. You grin and play with your bracelet nervously. ''You're a curious one, for sure. Well, me and my sisters' bodies are all different... Some of them are taller, some have bigger breasts, some of them have bigger buttocks or thighs...''

''And the... crotch area? Is that the same?'' Your cheeks were bright red about now. ''T-The crotch area? You mean the... the vulva. I haven't seen my sisters', that is a little... inappropriate.'' Miyeon nodds, understanding that it's a more private matter. ''Sometimes I think about what it would be like to touch another woman's body. I wonder if it's different,'' she confesses.

You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, and you were most definitely aroused now. It was only because of Florence - who is definitely your favourite sister - that you learned about what arousal is and what you can do about it, what you can to do yourself. Even though you don't understand the entire concept of these so called 'sexual' acts and feelings, your instinct is to touch yourself between your legs and now you definitely feel the desire to do the same to her.

Fuck.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

May 11th, 1815

It has been about two weeks since your feelings for the crown princess started to develop into something more. You felt such affection and fondness while looking at her. You wanted to kiss her lips and carress her, and also undress her and lay naked with her, desiring to feel pleasure with her. You secretly stole the book from the library and in the back there were several drawings that were vague and nearly crossed out, but you could see well enough that the drawings and texts were about sex between women.

You had never seen, heard or read anything like this but you could not stop. At every waking moment you wanted to look at the drawings again, imagining princess Miyeon and yourself and at night you touched yourself. You did it all night long, dreaming about her and her body. You thought you might be delusional because you felt like she might be experiencing the same things. Did she not say she wanted to touch another woman?

When you showed up in her room you felt some sense of guilt, because you felt like it was the most horrible thing in the world to do. But her sweet and kind smile and her beautiful feminity made you forget that guilt. She seeked more touch than before, giving you hugs, holding onto your arm and hand and she even gave you a kiss on the cheek when you left her last Tuesday night.

Miyeon's welcome was warm as always and you sat in her room without any guards, just hanging out as two normal girls, not caring about your statusses. Once again Miyeon started to talk about the sexbook and you hold back a frustrated groan. You just nodd along and listen to her rants as she keeps on talking and babbling about it.

''So I don't know if I would ever have sex again if I had a child. Sex with a man doesn't interest me much. Would it not be easier to be with a woman? Know how the body works? It seems like... like a good time,'' she finally says, leaving you with your mouth wide open. What did she just say?

''You feel that too?'' you breathed out. ''I do... Maybe all women feel like that. I think women are prettier, more delicate.'' You literally could not breathe at this point, your core aching for her. ''Have you ever kissed anyone, your grace?'' Miyeon shook her head. ''No, but I have read about it and I saw other people doing it.'' ''Ah, I understand,'' You nodded.

''Would you like to kiss me, Y/N?'' She swiftly and suddenly said. You gasped a little as Miyeon scooched closer to you, her leg brushing up against yours. ''I... I would like that, princess,'' you nodded. Miyeon rested her soft and dainty hand on your cheek, carressing your face ever so gently. You leaned in and pressed your lips on hers, pecking her softly before pulling back. A fire broke out in your body, it was burning with passion as you stared into her eyes. Miyeon licked her lips and closed the space between you, pulling you close and putting your lips together again.

Her head tilted to the right as your lips moved together. It felt so nice and smooth and you felt the desire to deepen the kiss more. You pulled her even closer and felt her torso against yours, the sensation of your chests coming together sent a lightning bolt straight to your core. Her hands ran through your hair now, as yours ran over her back and hips. The material of her expensive dress felt so nice in your hand you wanted to keep touching it but you desired to feel her skin even more.

Your hands now slid from her back to her buttocks and you grabbed it, pinching and squeezing it. She whimpered softly, lips parted against yours. The princess slid her tongue in your mouth, slowly gliding it against your own and tasting each other's saliva. You felt so warm, like you'd combust. To your disappointment she pulled away from you after a few minutes, panting softly.

How were the two of you ever gonna move on from this?

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

May 20th, 1815

Apparently, you did not have to move on from it, because it kept happening. Miyeon kept kissing you from morning 'til late at night, in her room, hallways and secret places. Your hands, lips and tongues were all over each others ever since the first time. You're in the library once again and you lifted her on the dark wooden table in the center of the room. Your tongue glides over her neck and she throws her head back, moaning out softly.

Miyeon tugs down the top of her dress so that her breasts pop out. You curse underneath your breath and pepper kisses from her neck and collarbones down to her chest. Your hands reach up to her breasts and fondle them gently, watching her face closely. You kiss them and then close your lips around her left nipple, licking and sucking on it. She mewls and squirms underneath your touch and instinctively widens her legs.

''Y-Y/N,'' she moaned softly. The princess takes your dominant hand in hers and brings it underneath her dress, to her crotch. Your hand grazes the fabric of her underwear and it's so wet, so goddamn wet.

''You're so aroused, aren't you, my princess?'' You teased as you rubbed over her clothed crotch. ''Y-Yes, my lady, my Y/N, I'm so hot right now, please, I have read so many texts about this and I want it, I want it, please, I know you can make me feel good, please, God, I want it!'' she begged.

A smirk played on your lips and you pushed the bombastic skirt of her dress up and pulled her underwear down, revealing her glistening wet cunt. You looked at it up close, admiring how it's similar and yet a little different than your own. But it was wet in the exact same slick way yours got when you thought about the princess.

''I'm going to touch you now,'' you announced, spreading her legs wider. Your fingers slid through her folds, collecting her juices before pushing one finger inside her. ''Relax,'' you ordered her as you felt her body tense up. She nodded and watched you pump your finger in and out of her pussy slowly.

When you noticed her body relaxing you moved it faster and harder, opening her up before adding a second finger. You scissor your fingers inside her and curl them just right so it hits all the sweet spots inside her. You take off her panties and stuff them in her own mouth to keep her quiet. Her pussy clenches around your fingers and you decide to use your other hand to play with her clit. This is one of those times where you're thankful for having perfect co-ordination between your hands.

The princess is squeeling, whimpering and squirming as you move your fingers faster and put pressure on her clit. Her body tenses again and you know she's close to orgasming. You keep going and rub her clit even faster. ''That's it, princess, you're gonna come for me now, you'll come like the perfect princess you are,'' you breathed out, surprised at your own vulgar talk.

In a matter of seconds Miyeon came undone, coming and squirting so hard on your fingers, arousal seeping out of her pussy. She drenches herself and you in her juices and you ride out her orgasm before retracting your fingers from her wet hole.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

May 23rd, 1815

The Queen threw another party in her gigantic ballroom for the debutants and other ladies to find a suitor and both you and Miyeon were expectant to look for one tonight, but you sneaked off again. This time she brought you to a room full of artworks that were just collecting dust, meaning barely anyone came here in the past weeks, if not months.

She crashed her lips on yours again, sinking into your embrace and feeling your warm body against hers. You pulled away minutes later and panted, wiping the lipgloss from your cheek. "Princess, should we be doing this here?"

"Y/N, my dearest I keep thinking about you. About your hand between my legs, and your lips on my breasts, but that is not all. I think about your kind and beautiful face, your beautiful laugh and your golden heart. I think... I think I might have fallen in love with you, my dear."

You gasped softly, stunned at the sudden confession from the heir. "But princess, do you not know this is impossible? You need to find a suitor to be your king, you have to focus on ruling the country. It is... definitely not possible for us to be anything," you muttered.

Her eyes became glassy, welling up with tears, but as she learned she held them in. "But Y/N, I love you," she whispered. Her hand carressed your cheek softly, her fingers grazing your jaw. "Our love isn't impossible, I know you want me too."

"But the situation is impossible, in years you'll be the queen and you cannot... you cannot be a queen without a king and children. And even if you were, you couldn't be a queen who loved another woman. It's scandalous!"

"If I'm the queen can't I just... change the rules?" "You know damn well that you can't, Miyeon, you'll be a queen and not God" you spat. "Well fuck God, to hell with God!" You gasped and palmed her mouth. "Do not shout these things princess, please, we'll get caught and you'll get in a blasphemy scandal."

She took a deep breath and took your hands in hers. "I only want to be by your side. Can we do at least that?"

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 4th, 1815

You just came back to the palace from a long walk with the princess, which was more of a date because you felt like you were out with your lover. You talked about the world and about happy things while you held hands and laughed. Now you brought her back to her room and before the staff got to say anything Miyeon told them that you would be helping her get a bath and get ready for bed. You bowed to the staff and send them off, then closing the doors to Miyeon's room.

She pushed you up against them immediately. The gold ornaments on the door was gold on your chest but the hands gripping your buttocks firmly set you on fire once again. "Finally we are all alone," she whimpered in your ear as she pressed herself against you. You felt her breasts on your back and you wanted to turn around but her grip was surprisingly strong this time.

The princess grinded her crotch against your behind while her hands traveled up to your chest, pulling your dress down so your breasts sprung free. That's when she spun you around and fondled your breasts, kneeding them and massaging them just the way you like it. "Y/N, you drive me crazy, these... these beautiful breasts of yours, I wanna hold them all day long and I wanna touch you while I drown in your eyes," she sighs, kissing your breasts and lapping her tongue at your nipples.

"Why don't you drown between my legs instead?" You moaned softly, smirking slightly. You helped yourself and the princess out of your dresses and underwear, seeing each other completely naked for the very first time. Miyeon pulled you to the bed and you laid down on it together, embracing one another. "You're a beautiful woman, Y/N," she says with a smile, caressing your hip gently. "As are you, your grace." She laid you against her soft pillows and spread your legs wide. "I can not wait to taste you, my dear," she breathed out. "Then don't wait, please, do it, now." She nodds and licked a stripe up your wet pussy, tasting your arousal and smirking.

Her tongue glides along your folds, licking you up and again, and again until she tries to push it into your hole. You mewl and quickly cover your mouth with your right hand, stifling yourself as much as you could. After a few minutes of her tongue pumping and licking your inner walls she pulls out and finds your sensitive clit instead.

You cry out and grab the sheets tightly with your fists and moan at the sensation. It's one thing rubbing your clit with your own fingers but having the most beautiful woman on earth licking and sucking on it was something else. It didn't take Miyeon long to make you come undone on her tongue, lapping up your arousal as your body squirms.

When you gain your breath again you pull her on top of you, feeling her breasts on yours and rubbing them together slightly as you make out with her again. You notice yourself becoming impatient and wanting more so you flip yourselves over, getting on top of the princess. She looks at you with her big and beautiful brown eyes, patiently waiting with hunger in her eyes, curious as to what you're planning to do now.

You spread her legs and lift the right one up, letting it rest on your shoulder. She gasps as you align your sexes together, arousals colliding as you do so. "God, baby, Y/N, what are you doing to me?" She moaned. "I'm going to make love to you, princess, and I can do this sweetly, but I could also fuck you, fuck you hard," you grunted as you slowly rubbed your pussy on hers. "God, that sounds so good, please, that's what I want, Y/N, please do it hard and make me cum again," she begged. "Say no more, my princess," you nodded.

You started to rub your crotch on hers quicker, aligning your clits together and sparking a fire between your bodies. Both of your whimpers, moans and pleads were slowly becoming louder and louder, no longer thinking about keeping things quiet.

"Yes, yes, Y/N, that's so good, that feels amazing, my love, please do it harder, oh! O-oh that's good, yes! Please!"

Miyeon was a loud one, squeeling and moaning, nearly screaming as you quite literally rocked her world. The headboard of the bed was banging against the wall as you kept riding and grinding on her at a fast pace. The tension between you two was growing and both of you were getting close. You held each other as tight as you could while grinding together and quickly you both came, arousal dripping out of you and moans becoming a beautiful set of sinful harmonies.

When you stopped and laid down next to her, Miyeon still hadn't had enough, spreading your legs and putting her pussy on yours once again. She was still so sensitive from her previous orgasm, as were you, so it didn't take long before she started moving quicker and harder, moaning loudly. She threw her head back, her hair coming undone and falling onto her shoulders in lucious shiny curls.

Miyeon presses her lips onto yours as she keeps rocking into you, moaning into your mouth as she comes again in a matter of minutes, squirting on your pussy. "Fuck, fuck, princess!" You moaned against her lips. You flipped her over again, laying her down. The princess' head is laying over the edge of the bed and you set yourself back in the familiar position, grinding on her pussy, her pelvis, her thigh, you rubbed your pussy everywhere, chasing your own high.

"Yes, Y/N, Fuck! Use me! Rub it on me baby, rub it on me, use my body and make yourself come, give it to me, come for me!" You screamed loud and came, shuddering and shaking and falling on top of the princess. The two of you laid there for a while, sweaty and panting.

After a while you stood up and helped the princess up, carrying her to the bathtub. You drew the bath and helped her get in, massaging her skin and scrubbing her while pressing soft kisses on her lips. "I wish we could do that all day long," she sighed. "Me too," you nodded, washing her hair. "I love you, Y/N, You're my dearest love." You sighed but smiled and kissed her. It hurt you when she said those things, because you were realistic enough to know this was gonna end badly and you'd end up in pain. So you didn't ever say it back. But she knew.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 15th 1815

''Miyeon, my dearest,'' Queen Isabella said, ''I have found you a suitor! He will be attending the ball next Saturday. You will have to look your absolute best, yes?''

You swallowed thickly, looking down at the teacup in your lap. You tried hard to stay calm, and not to scream 'No! Don't take her from me just yet!' but you knew there was no use. If it's the Queen's orders Miyeon would have to obey her wishes. Miyeon nodded and cleared her throat. ''Yes mother... May I ask what he looks like? What his name is? Where he is from? Because... I would rather marry out of love but if I cannot then I will at least have to know who I marry, right?''

''That is not important. He is a good man, he is from France and we shall hold the wedding soon, after the two of you meet.''

Miyeon nodded, but she stayed quiet the entire time. When the Queen had left and you asked for a private conversation she bursted out in tears. ''Y/N,'' she cried, ''I do not want to marry that French prince, I wanna stay by your side!'' ''My princess, I will be on your side, except our situation will be different. You understand that what has been happening can not happen again.'' She sighed and brushed some hair out of her face and dried her cheeks. ''Not until after the wedding. I can still do whatever I want right now.''

The sovereign pulled you close in her arms and kissed your lips and then your neck. Her hands slid over the material of your dress and she pulled the skirt up, grazing your soft thighs. ''Oh, princess,'' you sighed out when her hand slid into your underwear, cupping your sex. She rubbed your folds as she kissed and sucked on your neck. ''Miyeon, oh God,'' you moaned when she entered you with two fingers. You wanted to stop her, tell her it would only hurt more if the two of you would continue this illicit affair, but you could not stop her. The power of her love and her being was too strong for you, and so you let her.

Her slender fingers pumped in and out of your pussy, making you wetter and moan her name into her mouth as she kisses you. It did not take long for you to come undone on her fingers, falling into her embrace.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 18th, 1815

Watching the love of your life meet her future husband was killing you inside. What was worse than that is the fact he was making her laugh and he was touching her hand. The hand that only belonged to you, the hand that fucked you just a few hours ago. Louis, was the guys name and you found him a snob, an arrogant man. Why was she laughing at everything he said?

You knew you tended to overthink certain situations but the way she looked at him showed you she was fond of him and you could not watch it any longer. You took a glass of champagne and drank the entire thing in a matter of seconds before exiting the ballroom. You sat in the hallway, where staff walked around but did not give a damn about how you fell to your knees and cried out. You were losing your love and nobody gave a damn.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 19th, 1815

''He's not too bad, luckily,'' Miyeon sighed after she told you about her fiancé. ''Not too bad? You were drooling all over him,'' you scoffed. ''Y/N, please, if I had a choice you know it would be you, not him. I'm just saying I'm glad he's not a total... twat.'' ''He is a twat, he is stealing you from me. You might end up with someone but what about me? I will not be living in a golden palace and I will not be having anyone's children and-''

''Y/N, for one moment, will you think about me?'' ''ALL, I think about, is you princess. You are my thoughts, you are my life, you are it.'' ''You have said yourself that this would hurt and it would not work out even before I did, why are you suddenly verbally attacking me? You knew this was going to happen.''

''So that means I cannot have feelings about this? That means I cannot hate him and feel outraged that he will kiss you and hold you while I rot away in my parents house?'' ''Y/N, please, I will be heartbroken too if I can never hold you again but you knew it was coming. This is not new information. I might be with you but I am still your princess!''

You swallowed your pride and looked down, nodding and taking a deep breath. ''Yes, your grace, princess.'' The tone in your voice was enough for Miyeon to know you drew a line. ''Come on, Y/N, do not do this, we still have a little while,'' she says, trying to take your hand but you step away and bow for her. ''I will not let you cheat on your fiancé, my princess, I shall head home now.'' You bowed once again and left princess Miyeon alone, in tears.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 21st, 1815

You were a weak woman, because only days later you were back in bed with Miyeon. Her body felt warm and delicate against your own skin. ''Princess,'' you called out softly. ''Do not speak, Y/N, do not say anything to... to stop this moment.'' You nodd and close the gap between your lips. They move together as you get on top of the beauty. You spread her bare legs and put your crotch on hers. The contact feels so good you throw your head back as you roll your hips forward. You bite back a moan as you bit your lips, breathing picking up as you grind your clit on hers.

''Y/N, Dear, please move faster, please make me finish on your beautiful cunt!'' she pleaded, holding your hips tight. ''Yes darling, my princess I'll make you come again, that is my duty.''

Your hands moved to her naked chest, fondling her breasts as you fucked yourself on her crotch, chasing your on relief. Miyeon was moaning over and over again, nails clawing in the soft flesh of your buttocks. ''Do it harder, harder!'' she screamed. ''Oh my God, oh my God!'' she squeeled when you did her just right. She moved her body along with yours and came hard, eyes rolling back to her brain. The sight of her coming for you made you come as well. You rode out your highs before getting off her but keeping her legs spread.

Miyeon whimpered when she felt two of your fingers dip into her core and she clenched around them. ''Y/N, please, t-too sensitive!'' she cried, but you did not care, you wanted to leave a memory and make her orgasm over and over again. Her arousal was seeping out of her cunt as you moved your fingers inside her quickly. Miyeon's breathing was picking up and with just a few more thrusts she squirted over your hand, coating you in her slick. Without giving her a chance to gain her breath again you kept going, determined.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

June 26th, 1815

The wedding bells were loud, too loud actually for you. It was incredibly hard to hold back the thick tears welling up in your eyes as you watched Miyeon walk out with her prince, her husband. It made you feel nauseous, you wanted to throw up and run away, cry, scream and disappear, knowing you have now lost her to someone else.

You bow to her and congratulate her as she walks by, and when she gets into the carriage you run away. You do not even know where you are running to but you are running, running far away from the church. You end up in the field you once sat in with her and you fell to your knees, not caring your dress would get dirty. You laid in the grass and looked up to the sky while tears fell from your eyes, rolling down your cheek. You missed her dearly, already, and this was only day one. From now on there would be a lifetime without her. Without anyone ever knowing she was once yours.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and longing stares It's born from just one single glance But it dies, and it dies, and it dies A million little times