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#yes miyeon is your name now
dogsongy · 1 year
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Good Boy~ (19)
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Chapter 19
Summary: Miyeon opens a dog cafe with her 5 dogs and two handsome young men happen to come in on opening day.
Pairing: Yunho x reader (named Miyeon) x Mingi
Genre: fluff for the most part (with a little bit of angst)
A quiet groan left Miyeon’s lips as the professor went over the syllabus of the class. Her brown haired friend turned to her while flipping his pen a couple of times. “This class is going to bore me to death, Yeosang.” She whispered towards him. In response he shrugged. “I dunno, it seems like it's going to be an easy A for me.” He leans back and smirks. “Maybe not too much for you.” Miyeon lightly elbows his side. “Yeah right I have trouble getting you to make a social media presence for us at the cafe.” 
“Well you said I can’t shitpost so it's hard to think of something.” 
“Saying that we will draw doge on peoples lattes is not a good business move”
“Whatever”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That Friday Miyeon had her laptop set up by the cash register around 1:30 pm. The lunch rush was not as bad as it usually is, maybe because everyone was working hard towards the weekend. She had an online English class around this time and the 4 other employees seemed to be busy with other engagements such as clubs, sports and other classes. A familiar orange haired boy also introduced himself to be in her class so she was glad to see at least one familiar face. The cafe itself is mostly empty with a couple of customers drinking coffee and working on various projects on their devices. The dogs were littered around the cafe as well except Yuo who was lying in one of the dog beds behind the counter and near Miyeon. 
Luckily the rest of the day was also pretty quiet. Customers came in to order coffees and sat quietly using the cafe as a peaceful workplace where they could even pet a dog if they got too stressed. Three pm came around surprisingly fast and Miyeon closed the shop by herself after her class ended around 2:30. She then continued with her day by showering and leashing her dogs up for a nice walk. Things were going pretty smoothly as she made sure her dogs were well trained and in life when it came to walk etiquette. Eventually they circle back to head back towards the cafe. 
“Hey! funny seeing you here.” A voice calls out to Miyeon. She turns around to look at the voice and is greeted by none other than Yunho. 
“Yunho!” She grins at the tall man jogging over to approach her. He bends down towards all the excited dogs. Even Yuo seemed a little comfortable with his presence. “What are you doing around here?” Once the dogs calm down he stands up straight. 
“I was just taking a walk around the park when I noticed you walking the puppies so I had to at least say hi.” He lets out a small chuckle as they begin to walk and talk due to the restless dogs. “Ah well I'm a little hard to miss but I'm glad to see you.”
“Likewise!”
After a slight pause in the conversation Yunho takes a deep breath. “Hey, I have a question for you.” His whole bright demeanor seemed to change to a more shy tone.
“Sure, ask away.” She glanced up at his nervous figure. He was playing with his fingers one second then fixed his hair with them the next. 
“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to see that new spiderman movie sometime…. I mean it's ok if you don't want to-”
“That sounds like fun! When were you thinking?”
“How about tonight at 7:30? I checked the show and they're practically every hour.” The redhead smiles softly at her feeling slightly relieved.
“Yea I could do that!”
“Awesome I'll pick you up from the cafe if that's no problem for you.”
“Yeah that'll be great I’ll see you then Yunho!” Miyeon’s cheeks flushed as she waved to the guy that just asked her on a date.
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capslocked · 1 year
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STARLET
male reader x cho miyeon
part 1 of another name up in lights
28k words (special thanks to @passingnotions for helping make all my work possible)
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“I would rather throw up,” you murmur out of the corner of your mouth, “than do another take of this scene with you.” “Okay.” Miyeon tilts her chin. The lights begin to dim over the blonde hair she has falling over an upturned brow. “Then throw up.”
It takes a few beats—while production staff scurry about the tense silence rolling through the studio—for everything to fall perfectly still.
Miyeon takes a deep breath, and whispers: “I can get you a bucket.”
“Action!” (The one where Miyeon ruins your career, and you ruin her too.)
- That first time the two of you are photographed together, it’s wholly unremarkable. The entirety of the cast is in frame, standing shoulder to shoulder in front of the banner at the presser and pretending that someone had just whispered something worthy of a belly laugh into your ears. Cho Miyeon hangs delicately off your arm, hand wrapped just above your elbow, and all of you are at your most jovial—looking like you’re simply having the most wonderful time, smiles wide and beaming. Because if that isn’t part of the act. You sell the characters, the fiction, the drama even when the cameras aren’t rolling.
The second photo is what gets people talking. 
Anyone with half a brain ought to know that if you were sincerely seeing your co-star, an untruth that the general public is apparently beyond happy to eat up, you wouldn’t be so careless to post up outside a small cafe. Certainly not at a trendy place aside one of the busiest streets in the city, but these tabloids are rabid. Like a head injury, that self-condemning desire to get clicks and hits at any cost has long clouded their ability to think, and so it gets plastered right there on the front page of every rag in the industry. Don’t get it confused, the photo looks good. It’s got allure and mischief written all over it. And that’s exactly what you’re going for.
Miyeon’s hair is up, tied into a messy bun, because she’d have hated to obfuscate the work that her floral shoulderless dress was not doing in hiding from the world the most immaculate pair of collarbones you’d ever seen. Then in her hands—between her teeth—she fiddles with the earpiece of her sunglasses, shooting you with the clearest, most flagrant fuck me now eyes that only a blind person might not pick up on (doubtful still). And you’re there, smirking back at her, for even if a photo tells a whole story, this one really only ever needed a sentence: sparks flying, the two of you really hit it off. 
It’s a point of contention later—several times actually—but regardless of how you feel, the girl can act.
Now the image that really gets the media whipped into a frenzy is a lot less polished. It’s grainy and the lighting is poor and in a change of pace, the quality of the photo would lead you to believe that it wasn’t premeditated. Which, unfortunately, is exactly how it goes down.
Even still, it's all framed perfectly, infamously, a straight-up disaster. Miyeon is immediately recognizable, unabashedly blonde and gorgeous as ever. You’ve got your mouth on hers and the problems absolutely do not end there: her back is flush against the bricks of the alley, pinned under your weight, and yes, your hands are busy. One up her skirt, the other in her shirt, she’s blushing into you, and you wouldn’t know from the photo, but she’s got her fingers working at your belt and as a collection, it’s all utterly shameless. Everything up to that point had been muted in subtext; both of you know the value of intrigue, the art of letting everyone else connect the dots—this, however, unintentionally becomes a phenomenon.
Lights the internet on fire for a minute.
The shocking part of all this, what ends up being labeled a calamity by people whose opinions actually concern you, is the photo that you assume will haunt you forever and follow you to your grave isn’t even the one where you’re making out with the starlet du jour in the harsh yellow of an exterior floodlight—in the relaxed wickedness only two AM might ever know. No, it’s this photo, the press’s favorite, given how it shows up everywhere. Miyeon’s holding the award for best actress in a lead role in one hand, knuckles tight around the podium microphone with her other. She’s radiant. She’s flustering. She’s breathtaking. She even trips up on her words in a way that’s endearing. And every fool with a blog is infatuated by all of it.
Your own thoughts on the matter aside, the most neutral and economic way to describe it is unintentionally funny. You were with her when she picked out that silver sequin evening dress, sparkling in the demand of stage lights and camera flashes. It spills from where the garment ties around her neck over the lines of her body as if it has no bias itself for any form or structure, only curving on its journey to her feet at the behest of where her breasts sloped down from her collarbones, the flare of her hips just below her waist. She’s the spitting image of perfection, a damn icon—the headlines are supposed to be about her—but there you are: tucked into the corner, in a sea of faces all justifiably mesmerized by the beauty that walked delicately onto the stage and adorably needed to adjust the microphone stand down to her height. 
As It turns out, the absolute displeasure in your scowl isn’t any less captivating. Envious. Spiteful. Arrogant. You catch some serious flak for it.
For months, it ends up being the subject of commentary online, in print, on television—your names on the tips of everyone’s tongues. All with their own theories, but no one manages to guess the truth for a long time, because no one could even begin to believe it:
You hate Miyeon, and Miyeon hates you.
-
Oh, there are plenty of clues, if you aren’t already keenly aware of it, that your career is slowly sliding into obscurity. Years ago, walking into your agent's office was an event: eyes widened and turned to you immediately. The quiet smiles, the blushing, the batting of eyelashes. The pomp and circumstance of the agency’s biggest client strolling into Soyeon’s office like you were crossing the Rubicon into the streets of Rome. It was glorious and it always meant something big was about to happen.
To be clear, you’re not saying you need the attention, but today, no one even offers to take your coat, which is a shame, because it’s been raining biblically for the past week, and there’s puddles in your shoes, squeaking obnoxiously as you parade unceremoniously through a row of desks. Even so, sounding like a dog’s chew toy, it’s sheer and utter avoidance—eyes glued to monitors and unlifted from scribbled notes as though you’re simply another courier delivering a parcel (which hey, in all honesty, someone like that might even have some of that magical potential). 
“Hold up. What do you mean they’re passing me up?” you ask, eyes narrowed and leaning forward in your seat so that the blatant abandonment of all your grace and charm doesn’t get lost in translation across the length of Soyeon’s desk. “That part had my fucking name on it.”
“It did.” Soyeon drums her pen against her keyboard. Comes close to making a face. “And now it has someone else’s name on it. Someone the studio trusts.”
“Oh, for christ’s sake, he’s twelve years older than me. The character is supposed to be thirty, not a dinosaur in a Kingsman suit.” 
“It’s the silver fox thing. He markets easily to women.”
“And I don’t?” you stammer out, and Soyeon lifts an eyebrow. “Only a date night staple for almost a decade, Soyeon. Can you honestly sit there and say I wouldn’t play it better? The man plays nothing but himself in every role. Every. Single. Role.”
“Well, it just so happens that he brings people to the theater in droves,” Soyeon snaps back before you have the chance to say anything you could possibly regret. “Look, I told you I have good news and bad news, and it sounds like you’ve figured out the bad news already.”
“Oh please don’t tell me it’s charity.” You wave your hand flippantly. “We’re not doing this.” 
Discount parts for struggling actors. If they were worth more than the paper in the scripts they were printed on, Soyeon would’ve been negotiating them this very moment. 
There’s a lot about it to unpack, your fall from grace. You aren’t bringing in commissions, directors aren’t lining up in front of the firm to shove their scripts in front of your nose, and your last few films are better remembered for the comedic value of their scathing reviews than the actual screenplay or cinematography.
One such review of your most recent work, an ill-fated screen adaptation of Blood Meridian that had ‘studio interference’ written all over it right from its woeful inception, reads: I hated this movie. Hated hated hated hated hated this movie. Hated it. Hated every simpering stupid vacant audience-insulting moment of it. Hated the implied sensibility that thought anyone would like it. Hated the subliminal insult to the audience by its belief that anyone would be entertained by it.
There are plenty more just like it, and plenty worse, but it’s never done you any good, mentally, to sift through them.
“Really. I’m serious, these parts aren’t bad.” 
Soyeon has enough confidence in her voice to sound convincing, but you’ve also never heard her come across any different. You catch yourself pausing to think about it, which is a clear tell that you’re perhaps nearing wit’s end, considering you’re not one to shy away from blurting out the first thought that forms half-coherent into your head.
“Now, they’re not what you’re looking for, admittedly, but I just think with a little luck, they could end up being a fortuitous move,” she adds.
“Go on, pitch,” you say, before sinking a little lower into your chair because even though it pains you to agree with her, she’s right.
“If you’ll dismount from your high horse for a moment,” Soyeon starts, waiting for you to finish rolling your eyes, “the Coens called again—”
“I’m not.”
“The part is interesting.”
“The part is small, it’s side-cast. Don’t sugarcoat it. I’m not taking one of their rescue-shelter-for-the-has-been supporting roles. That’s the equivalent of throwing in the towel.”
“It’s done wonders for careers in worse shape than yours, to be candid.”
“Careful,” you warn her, lifting your chin and glaring—a look you are definitely not known for—but if there’s anyone in the industry who could hold her own, deflect your best, and make you feel foolish for thinking you could cross swords and come out unscathed, it’s Jeon Soyeon.
“May I remind you that I’ve been nominated for best actor three times? That no one in their right mind predicted any of those movies to be any good? I’ve got talent. Let’s not sit around and pretend like I need to be put on life support here. I’m capable.”
Soyeon just steeples her fingers together. “I don’t need the reminder. I made that exact point in a call with a producer this morning, but it’s hard to get people to look past the fact that some of your recent choices have been—”
“If you’re going to say I told you so,” you grumble, letting out a sharp sigh, “let’s get it over with.”
She doesn’t say anything right away. Just pushes a folder across the desk and into your hands like she’s betraying national secrets to a foreign adversary. “Listen, don’t walk out in disgust. At least not right away.”
It takes only a moment. You recognize what’s going on here immediately. “Soyeon.”
“I know. I know. I know.” She waves her hand. “But hear me out, give it a chance.”
“It’s a rom-com, Soyeon.” “I’m plenty aware of what it is.” “I can see it already: smart, sophisticated, funny.” It takes a lot not to curl your lip. And then it fucking curls anyway. “I thought… I thought I had climbed out of the depths of romantic-comedy-hell, Soyeon. This is like suggesting that I get back into a relationship with an abuser.”
“I know, but this one actually is different,” she says, and you take a moment to remember you’ve always respected her honesty, paid her for it, and should’ve probably listened to it on more than one occasion. It’s the reason you’re here of all places. 
“You’d kill the part,” she adds. “You spent years killing parts just like it. There’s no shame in that. And the director’s asked for you, specifically. By name. She’s willing to double your asking price.”
So maybe your eyes widen at that, even if it’s the absolute worst way to admit defeat, that you’re just as talentless as you’ve always feared: retreating back to the comfort of the role, all that expertise in acting with—no scratch that, acting at—some barely legal starlet ready to show a little skin to get ahead. 
(That’s the nature of the game, and it’s your roots, unfortunately, but it’s safe, and if the money is there, then better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.) “Ah, yeah okay, well here’s the thing: they’ve already decided on the female lead.” You lean forward, like you’d have to listen to this next part in a whisper, because anything louder than that would make it too difficult to bear. “And?” Soyeon clicks her tongue, runs her thumb across her lips, thinking of how to soften the blow. “I mean she isn’t what you’d call an actress, exactly.” “What the hell does that mean, exactly?” “Cho Miyeon,” she starts, and you’re actually just sitting there, tasting at something in your mouth like it’ll help you make sense of it, if only for the reason that you’re not quite sure who that is. “She’s, uh, well, she’s a popstar, you see.” “Oh you’re not kidding.”
There’s a sincerity that lives somewhere in Soyeon’s lack of any expression at all, perfect poker-face armed and readied. You have to squint to really take it in. Heavens.
-
Exactly how much Soyeon actually knew about this girl, you’ll never know. She claimed first that they met through a mutual friend who does publicity work for another studio, and on a separate occasion saying that they went to school together, determinedly avoiding anything like names or corroborating details. Of course you believed her, because how were you supposed to know any different?
“Wait, you mean like actual royalty?” you ask a few days later, after Soyeon explains Miyeon’s nickname to you, because in this industry, it’s really not that ridiculous a question. 
“It’s just a running gag,” she says casually, and you both watch the waiter wordlessly grate pepper into her salad until Soyeon puts a hand up.
“So,” you continue, incredulous, “it’s supposed to be funny?”
“Look, it’s a whole thing.” Soyeon picks up her fork, but doesn’t quite end up doing anything with it. “I promise she’s only half the disaster you think she is.”
“Then do me a favor: kick my shin when I’m supposed to laugh.”
“Do yourself a favor, and try to be a little amiable.”
“You say that like I don’t know how to be charming,” you deadpan, sipping at your coffee while Soyeon’s glare stands its ground.
It’s nothing official, but Soyeon had organized a script reading. The Director is off in some foreign land scouting for the perfect beach with perfectly white sand on an island that already has enough problems, and tells you in three separate text messages to just read the fucking script. You’re groaning, rolling your eyes, and then, curled up next to the fireplace in your readers at three in the morning, it hits you—like really hits you. And you’re shocked, mostly, that there's brilliance in these pages. It’s not the kind of flick you expected, the kind that has journalists at the Atlantic, real writers with academic chops and know-how, publishing articles with titles like: Why Are Romantic Comedies So Bad?
Which, hey, isn’t that a great question. There are a couple of answers, you imagine. You haven’t read the piece of course; you’re the last person that would ever need to. But perhaps among the most fundamental obligations for the genre is that there must be some degree of obstacle, a challenge to nuptial bliss that the hero and heroine must overcome, all before the story’s happily-ever-after. And, to put it simply, such obstacles have only gotten harder and harder to come by. They used to lie in heaps and piles on the ground, ripe for the picking: parental disapproval, difference in social class, unfulfilled promises, the classic and creatively bankrupt friendship-blossoming-into-romance. Nowadays there’s quite literally nothing new under the sun.
So take that all into account, and then add in the fact that you’ve got your hands on something innovative and creative and tasteful—it’s insulting, absurd even, that you’d hamstring the movie by shooting one of the leads out of a cannon and into the hands of a novice who may or may not be able to act her way out of a paper bag. The part calls for subtlety, not the ham-handedness and dramatic stylings of a girl whose experience with the camera extends to knowing when and when not to wink.
Only here’s the thing, it’s not absurd. Like at all. Because enter Cho Miyeon.
She appears in profile first, before pulling a chair out from the table and taking a seat all with the confidence of someone who’d probably be welcome at any table, anytime, anywhere. And almost immediately, you’ve got the answer to those hundred different questions of why. Why a rookie? Why a pop idol? Why ‘princess?’ 
Well, see, on a basic level, she’s fucking breathtaking.
The devil’s in the details if you aren’t disarmed completely at a glance. Dignified, regal, royal, this girl has it all, and then some. Her hair frames her face as though it were in any need of succor, perfectly messed and ash-blonde and tumbling effortless down her shoulders. She flutters her lashes; her lips part, close again in a way that is oddly captivating; and she gets a tilt in her chin that’s worth a thousand words (most of them admittedly, jesus, fuck, and my god). It’s like she not only understands every cliche in the book—but she’s gone out of her way to make them hers. “Miyeon,” she says, voice gentle and saccharine sweet, extending her hand towards you. 
It dawns on you that there’s a certain authority that comes about from saying your own name, even when you know no one has ever needed it—contrast to the way her hand fits in yours, dainty fingers, wrist flawlessly delicate; she’s five-two, arguably five-three in her socks and you’re the one who could crush her. Even so, it’s your mouth that runs dry. You’re catching your breath, and you have to clear your throat to even return the favor.
“I’m a huge fan of your work,” she adds. 
“Oh,” you start, shifting gears, getting ready to lie straight through your teeth, “me as well.” It’s shamelessly performative. And Soyeon knows that. The wince she struggles to hold back from across the table is hard not to notice.
But then so is Miyeon, your eyes trailing down her body like a palpable touch over every curve.
Black mini skirt, pre-torn sheer tights, a pair of knee-high combat boots with a hell of a heel on them, and you’re just realizing you can see how perfectly flat her tummy is, peeking out beneath where the hem of her shirt decides to taper for the betterment of mankind. Ah, you get it, so apparently idols really do dress like that—anything and everything to tell you, keep your eyes on me now.
The feet of your chair scrape loud on the floor as you stand on your feet. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
“Alright,” Soyeon tuts as she stabs at her salad, “let’s dial it back.”
It takes two tries to meet her eyes properly, these beautifully dark and dangerous things, but Miyeon just blinks at you, quirks her lips gently into a small smile. And you smile right back, just a little, because maybe this isn’t going to be so bad after all.
-
It isn’t anything like the romance Miyeon will later make it out to be. 
Even though sure, you’re both there laughing, blushing and coy—all of it enough to make the characters in the script look even-keeled, something a little more sane. “Please, it’s called chemistry,” you begin crafting excuses toward your agent when Miyeon takes a phone call on the terrace. “I have it with everyone.” And maybe that’s true. Maybe it isn’t. But be careful, there’s nothing noble about what’s going on here. 
“Sorry,” Miyeon apologizes, like she’d ever need to, pulling her chair right up next to yours. “Where were we?”
Just the part where the characters realize everything they’ve ever been looking for is right there in front of them. You spit the pen cap out of your mouth to answer: “the epiphany.”
For what it’s worth, the actual work to be done goes smoother than you expect. Sure, the initial delivery is rough around the edges and in need of a little tender love and care, but that’s far more than what you’d been prepared to give Miyeon credit for.
Not too long after, Miyeon suggests splitting a bottle of wine, something light and sparkling. It goes down easy.
Soyeon figures it’s time to fabricate some way to gracefully exit this whole thing, fingers tapping wildly at her phone, when you and Miyeon start touching each other. It’s subtle at first: she leans over your shoulder when you point something out in the script, pulls back a curtain of blonde hair right back over her ear before brushing up against you, lingers just long enough so that she can flick her eyes up to yours—doesn’t even care to look away whenever you catch her staring. And that’s just what can be seen above the table.
With a coat tucked under her armpit and her belongings all hastily gathered, Soyeon turns her face back over her shoulder one last time; she’s glaring, opening her mouth to say something but decides against it at the last moment. You get the message: don’t sleep with her.
You simply wave her off. Hide your own disappointment that she thinks you’d even need the reminder, because you would never.
“I guess I'm really looking forward to it,” Miyeon says, once the sun’s finished its daily dive into the horizon—once there’s only a mess of papers and empty wine glasses trailing in your wake. 
(The restaurant’s in the middle of whipping itself into shape before a slew of dinner reservations come through. It feels rude to camp out at a table any longer.)
Miyeon turns to you, standing with a hand on her hip like the two of you are neighbors who share a mailbox, and says, “think it could be fun.”
Oh, surely you’ve done a better job at masking a grin. Miyeon picks up on it instantly.
“I’m serious,” she adds, letting the timbre of her voice shift into this juxtaposition of suggestion and naivety that has you doing a double take, mentally. Because the lines in her picture perfect face are so very easy to latch onto—even if you’ve never seen anyone as perfectly sculpted as her, you can’t shake the feeling that all humans ought to come out looking like this—but at the same time, there’s something that lies beneath the surface, something undoubtedly complex, something that quietly chides you for having such untoward thoughts of a subject so innocent and docile.
“I’m not trying to take the air out of your sails or anything,” you say as you guide her through the door, hand pressing at the small of her back, “but these shoots can end up being a lot less enjoyable than they look.” “Of course,” Miyeon says, laughing, because here she is, the rookie, and it’s all very natural for her to appeal to some innate desire in you to come off as the authority on anything—film, stardom, the lack thereof, navigating life as a young pretty thing, the authority you’d discover in bending her over your kitchen counters—to some extent, she has you at least a little figured out. “What I mean is I’m looking forward to working with you.”
You watch her smile slant, shift quietly towards something more suggestive when you slip your coat around her shoulders—it’s a foregone conclusion, not that either of you are willing to look it straight in the face.
What you should have done is grabbed your phone and called her a car; there’s thousands of them in this city. What you should've done is driven home, alone. That’s all it should have been. Just some starlet you charmed for an evening to get your career back in order. Nothing more, nothing more. And instead of getting her for a few months plus change, you get her for life. This should’ve been extra clear when she leaned up against the passenger side door of your car, and found a new angle, something she’d only to that point allow to muse about your idle thoughts:
“And here I was, thinking you were just someone playing a part. Only ever a romantic for the camera.” 
You can’t even say it all happens so fast. 
Not when you take in consideration how you watch Miyeon delicately, slowly, purposefully grab a fistful of your shirt, balling it between her fingers, and begin to twist. This is probably where you’ll start, you think, when you explain it all in a tell-all book long past the age of your youth. Because, oh, what a pleasant surprise. She’s perfect. Flawless. A natural. You can’t keep your eyes away from her, and she’d have it no other way.
“Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?” you ask, if only to resist the urge to pull her in.
“Well, I suppose I’ve got a few ideas,” she says, and there’s a glimmer at the surface of her eyes, dark and intelligent and flashing with something like danger, something like the worst decision you’ve made in years. And that’s saying a lot. “But I’d like to think you can show me.”
You give her a practiced smile, stretching just right, careful, careless, carefree. Trust me, that smile says. It’s a scene from a movie, one of many. It’s familiar. You’ve been here, with weapons in a caliber all of your own, and Miyeon’s cheeks start to ever-so-perfectly redden, porcelain skin come aflame. 
“You know,” you say, making your voice drawl until Miyeon shuffles her weight between her feet, “if it was up to the writers, I’d kiss you here.”
“If it was up to me,” Miyeon starts, chin up at you like a challenge, “I’d let you.”
The way Miyeon explains it later is that you duck your head and hold your lips next to hers just long enough to let your next breath make her swoon, all before interrupting her with a hungry exhale and an open mouth pressing into hers. A hard, biting kiss that sends shivers down her spine. That you angle your mouths just right so your tongues can slip together, so you might sweep this girl right off her feet and into your arms—if Miyeon has a face that has fantasy written all over it, then so do you, and she says you ought to know what it does it to people. She’ll be half right. 
Only when you lean into her and start filing away those mental notes of how perfect her tiny waist fits in your hands, you pause at the sound of a cricket chirping, a reminder of the neighborhood around you.
“Not out here,” you murmur, casting a wary eye over her shoulder. “Let me take you home.”
Miyeon sniffles, blinks a few times, and nods.
-
Really, it starts with you. A month before you begin shooting, you suffer from a little insanity of your own. Miyeon’s got the second boot only halfway off her foot, lit up in the soft darkness of your foyer, when you take hold of her. 
It’s not like you figured this was your last chance for happiness—swallowing down the gasp that comes off Miyeon’s lips like it were your only shot at tasting heaven—but that’s exactly how you kiss her. Mouth open and hot and heavy against hers. It’s hard to explain, and it doesn’t quite add up; you’ve got your Furies, your own personal pantheon, the girls you’ve most dreamed about and had running through your thoughts—who’d eventually find their way between your sheets in some manner or another, melting in your hands. But somehow, Miyeon’s different, you convince yourself. Or she does rather, starting with her tongue sliding languidly against yours before she decides to bite down on the swell of your lower lip. It hurts. 
She knows it hurts.
“Watch it,” you say, coming off kind of harsh, before you can realize what all is going on here. Before you come to the understanding that she’s untouchable, priceless, that you can’t afford to break her—and that it’s precisely what she wants out of you.
“What?” she asks, the corners of her mouth slanted up ever so slightly. “You’ve got nice lips.”
How you’ll ever be able to forget someone like her, you haven’t a single clue, because Miyeon uncovers and undresses you down right to the bare soul. Your mouths crash again, just enough subdued to keep your teeth from clicking together like you’ve never done this before—like you’re reading her, getting lost in a new paradox: the intrigue of her tongue caressing yours, the familiarity of her thumb rubbing circles into your back. There’s the Miyeon that was cracking wise and sipping wine with you an hour ago, and now there’s this.
“So, how are we doing this?” she asks, breaths wet and heavy as she fidgets with the button on your pants. “How do you want me?” “Well.” You’re sliding a hand up her stomach, across her ribs, until you hit the silky fabric beneath her shirt. “I’m not sure I know what you’re asking here.” “Don’t play dumb.” Miyeon looks you straight in the eye, and she’s close enough that you can count the flecks of gold dancing in her irises. Brows furrowed for a second, she ends up indulging you anyway: “I’m asking how you want to fuck me?”
Every turn in her voice sinks deeper, reels you in further, coaxes you into shoving her to the wall between the door and a coat rack. The way she yelps first in surprise as her back hits the hard surface, whimpering later in delight at the grip your hands make onto her hips, it gives you the sense that she’s flustered, unable to come off as anything beyond embarrassingly forward and drowning in anticipation—
“Miyeon,” you say, slowly, getting a good read on just how much she likes hearing you say her name. That it’ll kill her, you figure, when you’re fucking her with slow, deep, deliberate strokes—once she’s inches within cumming and falling apart and it’s arriving right in her ear. “What do you think?” That lands even more pointed somehow. More dangerous than you could have ever predicted, the charm and practiced charisma in your voice coming out in lethal force: “Maybe, oh let’s see… should I fuck you right here?”
Miyeon starts with her fingertips across your scalp before threading them through your hair. “Well,” she says, teasing the callback, drawing the syllable out as though running it conceptually through her head. “If that isn’t a spectacular idea, I don’t know what is.”
“Yeah,” you murmur into the delicate skin under her jaw, and after lifting off her shirt and tossing it aside, she kisses you with a consuming, needy kind of hunger one more time. Until you’re both just out of breath. “I think so too.” Miyeon dips her fingers into the waist of your pants before anything else. Function of the fact that men’s clothing is so straightforward and predictable, she’s able to shimmy them down off your hips until they hang unceremoniously around your thighs. “Um,” she says, sinking her teeth into her lip a moment, right after curling her fingers around your cock, “you’re like, really hard, you know that?”
“I was going to mention it earlier. You’re kinda my type.”
She leans into you, sighing a little into your neck. “Which is?”
“Oh, you know,” you say nonchalantly. “Pretty. Small. Ruinable. That sort of thing.”
“Right.” With a jerk of her wrist, Miyeon brings your cockhead flush against her stomach—pumps you there leisurely. “Wouldn’t want Soyeon thinking you were planning on ruining me.”
“Quick learner,” you murmur, bunching her skirt up over the rise of her hips.
“Well, we’re really not so different, you and me.”
“Hm.” She doesn’t know what she’s saying—you’re you—storied, seasoned, and only heeding right now to the wail of torn fabric. There’s a hole in her tights already, and your fingers work fast. Rip, tear, threads screeching undone. “I’m curious to hear what all gives you that impression.” 
“The way I see it, we both know what we want,” she says, unashamed, and the sound that escapes her mouth sounds a lot like a hiccup, some little hopeful noise or another, swallowing for air at the touches skating across her underwear, where it’s soaked and hot and begging. “Suppose that’s true.” “Not afraid to go for it either.” She tightens her grip around your cock, squeezing like she’s waiting for you to tell her to stop and running her thumb across your slit. “Won’t settle for anything less than you—”
“A word of advice,” you start, and the authority in your voice makes her melt just a little further in your grip. “From someone who’s not so different… A little flexibility goes a long way, sweetheart.”
“Oh.” It’s smug, the way she says it. Her eyes are heavy, hooded—honing the perfect hue of haughty as she drags her panties to the side. “I’m nothing if not a little flexible.” You bend from your knees, because Miyeon is tiny where she stands, up against drywall with her dainty arms thrown over your shoulders. And in a way, she’s right: you see the parallels, cut from the same cloth, the two strained noises or another buzzing in your throat indistinguishable when you hook your hand around her thigh, raise it, and barely slide yourself inside her, just an inch.
Miyeon’s mouth opens like she’s going to speak, and then hovers there, brows turning and knitting together—something you more than understand, because you’re on the verge of losing your mind too. She’s wet and slick with heat and so fucking inviting that you think the world might end if you don’t bury yourself into her this very second. Not that there isn’t near commensurate satisfaction in drawing out the moment, you fast discover, teasing mercilessly until you can hear Miyeon’s frustration. Her eyes shut tight, and her breath becomes ragged as you allow her another inch—almost keening when you pull back before pushing your cock into her cunt again, fucking her open slowly.
It’s only when you hear her beg please, please, please that you sink all the way in.
And she feels amazing. Tight and hot and clinging, she sleeves onto you like a glove. Immaculate enough to chip away at your positions regarding fate, the ridiculous notion that under the stars there was a girl out there for you, that you’re in orbit with some inevitable conclusion and her name is fucking Cho Miyeon. So outright sinful that you still need a beat to come to terms with it, and you make an effort to voice that: “Fucking hell, Miyeon.”
She lets out a whiny, punched out breath, tilting her chin to the ceiling and revealing the long column of her throat to you like an invitation, though you press your lips to her temple first, the taste of her skin and the sweat aside her brow like wine—sweet and woozy and intoxicating. There’s the rise and fall of her breathing against your chest, your fingers spread out across her creamy skin, and a sudden jerk from her hips, as if to bring you back to the present.
“Oh my god,” Miyeon gasps as your hips are drawn back again. 
Only this time you’ve got the soft cheek of her ass spilling through your fingers. Waning self-control. Even less reservation about pulling her right back onto your cock. And though you’re mostly silent each time you work your entire length back into her, Miyeon is anything but—all these appreciative noises coming from low in her throat.
It might be the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed: the way she darts her tongue out to wet her lips, how her breath hitches when you move, each and every sound she makes as you fuck wildly into her cunt—slamming in, in, in, and you can hear her begin to whimper, feel her caressing the curve of your ass with her… ankle? She tugs on you, grips you, and does whatever she can to keep you deep inside her. As though you’d ever, ever stop.
“I can’t,” Miyeon starts, and it’s nearly comedic—you’d be in fits if you weren’t delicately unraveling this girl in your hands, taking her apart piece by piece, blow by blow. The poise in her voice is gone; what’s left is shattered, unrecognizable mostly. Even those dignified lines in her face start to twist and wobble, threaten to come undone. “Please, I need… oh, please make me cum. I need to cum on your cock.” “Breathe,” you tell her, feeling her slip a little against the wall, puddling further in your grip. It surprises you, the way your words come out like the crush of gravel beneath a boot, and it grips at something within Miyeon too, clues her in on how much she needs you—sucking air in through her teeth and sinking her face into your shoulder. The lines that mark where you end and Miyeon start are quickly eroding, boundary become meaningless. “I know you want to cum, but I need you to breathe for me, Miyeon.”
Her palms are damp with sweat, wrung around the back of your neck, hair sticking to her forehead and darkening in a beam of pale moonlight, not to mention what you hear: harder, faster, more—the needy requests make it sound like she’s almost sobbing. 
“I promise, I promise,” you whisper into her mouth, “I’ll do anything for you. But first, I’m going to use this tight little cunt—gonna make a mess of you.”
Your fingers dig into her soft skin, tighter, tighter; you’ll leave bruises, marks, fingerprints, all this damage she’ll trace back to you—evidence that’ll queue memories like a roll of film, bring her right back to how you have her mewling and moaning at the end of your cock, tears welling on her lashes and mascara running dark beneath her eyes.
 “Fuck,” slips out of her, nearly pouting like it’s your fault, that she’d never curse in front of anyone and here she is, teeth gritted—because, god, she’s all coiled muscle, tightened around your cock and meltdown imminent—you get your fingers under her chin and tilt her head to you.
“Gonna make you beg, Miyeon.”
“I… fuck…” Her voice gets locked up in her throat, choking back on something that turns into a wail when you adjust your angle, hit deeper, fuck harder—“I can’t,” she whispers, “I can’t,” but you keep fucking into her tight hole, nowhere close to letting up.
There’s just something so fascinating about a girl like this, a girl like Miyeon, with a gaze that inspires all this admiration and idolatry. It ought to pierce right through somebody like you and leave you for dead, bring you to your knees, but you’re nothing like she expected; you’re everything she hoped. So instead, as you watch her gasping mouth that was coyly smiling in your favor all afternoon; her small tits spilling forward when you lift up her bra; how she’s slumped back against the wall, relaxed and trusting you implicitly to carry her weight for as long as it takes; the shadowy place where your cock is drenched, glistening and disappearing between her thighs—oh, Jesus, is that a visual—it all clicks in your head: Miyeon is so, so astonishingly submissive. 
Whether it’s the fingers at her throat, or the grip hooking under her thigh, the one thing that’s clear is this: you’re using Miyeon. Fucking her within inches of irrevocably falling apart. You, the hammer; her, the nail—pounding her further into the drywall until she’s quivering and moaning and gasping into your mouth. Oh, the places you’ll pin her. You’re relentless, merciless; it’s the fact that she gets off on it that’ll stick with you. For a long time.
“Gonna make you beg for it, princess,” you amend, lips now pressing into Miyeon’s ear, and she immediately shudders apart.
It’s filthy is the thing: you’re railing the girl with deep, harsh strokes, and Miyeon’s pussy is  writhing in both protest and penury. She’s so creamed you can hear it through all the sounds of skin on skin, the percussive soundtrack of your thighs slamming up into hers. Each squelch, the wet sinful sound of it—it’s how you know your cock is making a total mess of her wrecked cunt. More and more each time it fills her and brings her that much closer to toe-curling-climax. 
Let me, she breathes against you, barely held together. The hand you have under her asscheek is doing most of the heavy lifting. “Please let me cum, please, please, please let me fucking cum all over this cock, I need to cum on this perfect cock, oh my god—”
When Miyeon finally turns up at you, she’s biting down on her bottom lip again. Her head tilts a bit, something deep and pleading in those big, brown eyes, and it almost, almost makes you feel guilty. Nearly ashamed that this delicate little thing had fallen into your lap and your knee-jerk reaction was to fuck her so hard she started to wail, cracking at the seams.
“Your cock,” she blurts out, breath jagged and uneven, “is amazing. You are—”
Like you said, almost. 
“—amazing.”
There’s nothing you can say to that, is there?
“Again… want to… again…” she demands of you, like she’s in any position to be making any. Her hands are all over you, finally undressing you, and all things considered, you don’t have the heart to tell her no. You’re hoping that never becomes a problem.
Miyeon scoops up easily enough into your arms after her orgasm had knocked the architecture right out of her legs, wobbling against the wall and almost sliding to the floor. And It all plays out again, just minutes later, after you set her on a barstool in your kitchen and slip back inside her. Sure, it’s a different setting, but you recognize it for what it is: the same story, with the same characters and the same ending, the one where you’ve got your cock fucking hard and fast into her cunt.
“Fucking, oh my god…” she rasps, just a waving white flag short of total surrender. “You’re going to make me fucking cum again. Yes, yes, yes—”
Until everything seemingly comes undone at once. And it quickly turns into stuttering cries of please and fuck and need it and all sorts of things you’ll have to promise you never heard, filth unfitting for a perfect mouth like Miyeon’s—the one now curving into that unforgettable shape while she chokes back on moans and mewls. It hits her like a brick, and her head rolls back as she groans, furrowing her brows and screwing her eyes shut.
You tell yourself it’s the fact that she’s so sweet, so docile, and all at the flick of a switch. Just moments after you’ve bottomed out in her pussy—after you’ve sent her higher and higher to where she’s reduced to nothing like the royalty everyone expects of her: needy, begging. 
It’s whiplash really, from callous and cruel to caring and soft in a matter of seconds. Your foreheads come together while you catch your breath. That’s an image all in itself. And when she laughs slightly, there are the quiet tremors, the spasms of her diaphragm clenching around you. It’s hard to tell what’s going through her head, before she covers the exhausted huffs out of your mouth with a kiss that lives in the gray area between sweet and harsh and consuming. Fuck. You’d stay here forever.
(Forever ends up being a hell of a lot shorter than you expect. Because Miyeon takes to cumming on your cock like water takes to paper.)
“Wanna ride,” she tells you, breath having caught up to her and wiping sweat from her brow—something like an inciting incident, taking the two of you all the way to the living room. 
She doesn’t outright tell you that she wants you to just hold her down and fucking use her, but she doesn’t last long on top of you either, leaning back from your lap with her hands hooked around your neck and dragging you forward, until you’re once again spilling over her, pounding her hot, sopping cunt like she needs. 
You’re cautious, usually—responsible. It isn’t like you, really. The excuse you’ll settle into later is that Miyeon’s cunt is impossibly vice-tight when you make her cum a third time. She’s in the midst of being swallowed up in the cushions of your sofa, the soles of her cute little feet pointed skyward, knees folded to her shoulders and pressed under your weight while you make sure she’s well fucked through the apex of it all.
“Good girl,” you tell her—the praise cutting straight to her final lifelines, tearing them to ribbons and leaving them for dead—and you’re shifting the angle, the depth to try and get her to scream the exact same way she did the first time. “Go ahead Miyeon—cum for me, princess. You’re going to fucking cum all over this cock again.”
And she does. Hard.
Quivering. Squirming even, she comes apart, fucked deep and hard into the springs of a chaise lounge and leaving stains on leather that won’t ever quite go away. Though it doesn’t manage to arrive with anything like an announcement, as it had before, heralded by curses and the elegant simplicity of meekly choking out the word cumming through a fit of gasps and hiccups. Her voice now is so fragmented, so utterly debauched and ruined, that she only manages to husk out a pathetic whine.
“So fucking pretty, Miyeon,” you rasp, watching the blush sear right across her nose, “so gorgeous when you cum for me. And god, this fucking pussy…”
The hands on the clock spin out, numbers running forward and back, and you’re long past the point of temperance. Each stroke in and out of Miyeon’s tight, throbbing, well-fucked cunt twists further at the knot in your stomach, the edge of your own, eager to indulge your fair share of recklessness: “Miyeon, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum.”
Miyeon understands immediately. She’s whimpering, nodding, sinking her fingers into your back—it’s not even a question. “Inside me,” she repeats, several times, until you’re hilted completely in her pussy. It’s hot, sweltering, perfect, and you can’t bring yourself to care that you’re pressing a handprint into her thigh so hard that it hurts. That the sounds leaking out of your throat aren’t anything particularly becoming or that you’re fucking your cum deeper into her cunt with each waning thrust or that you’re not sure if you ever had a better fuck.
“Fuck,” you groan, slumping on top of her petite frame once you’re completely finished. So thoroughly milked and drained.
Miyeon brings her small hands up and cups your face. Just stares like you’ve got something stuck to it. Her gaze drops to your lips—and you’re left thinking for a moment that she’s going to kiss you again, though it never does arrive.
“Hey,” you say finally, panting. Both of you are heaving restless. Everytime her chest rises into you, you’re acutely aware of how her small breasts feel against you, her heart still racing as your softening cock is still warm inside her. “You’re staring.”
“Well, I was going to mention it earlier,” she starts, fluttering her lashes and pressing her lips to the crook of your neck, “but you’re kinda my type too.”
-
The least unusual thing happens.
And if you end up thinking for even a moment that Miyeon is being sincere when she suggests you exchange numbers, you haven’t been paying attention. “You know,” she says, sitting in your lap and tapping her number into your phone, “for work.”
“Ah, of course,” you answer, willing to be fooled, if only just a little, “for work.” 
- Narratively, it’s all out of order: the banal text messages, the playful back and forth, the coy innuendos, the precarious game of being interested without asking too many questions. Both of you are quite content to play your cards close to your chest as though she doesn't know how good your fingers feel in her cunt or that you’re somehow not aware of the small freckle on the seam of her pelvis, another on the inside of her left thigh. That’s just how it goes. But it’s fine, you figure. Especially when you compare it to the alternative: of taking things too fast and careening straight off a cliff. To where, historically, you've burned up in a violent supernova of messy hookups and drunk calls and regrets you’ll carry with you into the next life.
A nice change of pace, if nothing else.And it’s hardly anything unusual either, or at least until you’re standing in the grocery checkout line a few days later. Miyeon decides enough with all that about the rules of engagement. She’s going to call you:
“I was planning on swinging by in a bit to grab my watch,” she starts, and you can make out another voice, maybe a friend? A roommate? in the background of the call, getting shh’d by Miyeon before she continues, “I left it in your bathroom. I think. Maybe on the bedside table.”
“Yeah, I was going back and forth on deciding whether that was purposeful or not.” “Accidental. I swear.”
“Still a little convenient though, isn’t it?” “Nothing convenient about not having my watch.” She laughs out loud. Maybe it’s a bit of vanity on your part to make assumptions, but you’ve got her pieced together, at least a little. Everyone else already reveres and adores her—it’s the fact that you’ll level with her, that she loves a proper challenge.
“Well, I won’t be back for quite a bit. I’m running a few errands.” You smile at the lady at the register. She’s halfway into figuring out who you are.
“Why don’t you do me a favor then… bring it with you to the press event on Friday?”
“Now that’s a surprise,” you tell her. “I’d figure you’d take the chance at face value, to get yourself back over to my place either way.”
“Look, if you’re going to make me need an excuse to sleep with you… let’s put our heads together and come up with something later.”
Oh, of course. Let’s, she says, really leaning into the plurality of it, hoping it’s something you can get used to. And given the fact you figure that Cho Miyeon has never been hard pressed to be anyone’s favorite anything, she is incredibly optimistic you’ll see just how sweet of a deal that all is. You’re answering the woman behind the register first: “paper bags are fine.”
“Are you at the grocery?”
“I am.”
“Sounds fun.” she says, after a considerable pause—the length of which tells you she’d rather dip into the mundane with you than hang up. “What’d you get?” “Breakfast cereal, bananas,” you tell her, staring straight into the conversational deadend. If only you knew any writers. You clear your throat, but Miyeon beats you to it, pulling the emergency ripcord: “What would you do if I was there with you?”
“Dunno,” you start, “take you to the bathroom maybe. Go down on you until you cum.”
At this point the cashier has put it all together. She recognizes you, and is unsure whether to be shocked or disgusted or what, so she just hands you your receipt as you shoot your near-award-winning smile back at her and gather your things.
Miyeon laughs. “Has anyone ever told you you’re horrendous at phone sex?”
“I’ve never had phone sex,” you tell her, “seems like a waste of time when you could be instead, you know–”
“Okay,” she interrupts you, “first off, it’s like the first rule in the geneva convention of phone sex: you’re supposed to ask me what I’m wearing. And just for your information, I’m wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt.”
“What color?”
“Yikes. So bad at this; you’re supposed to tell me to start taking it off. It’s a gray shirt, the pants are blue. What are you wearing?”
“A pair of khakis. And a sweater.” “Great. Take them off, slowly.” “Miyeon, I’m in the middle of a parking lot.”
“Okay prude, then you tell me what to do.”
You end up listening to Miyeon from the front seat of your car for almost half the hour. There’s a wistful hum from the other end of the phone every time you tell her what to do with her hand, walk her through every area of her body you want her to touch and how. You let her know about the finger you’re tracing over your own pants and she can’t help but let a soft noise out at the thought of it.
“If you invited me over for dinner right now,” she says after she cums, slightly out of breath, “I wouldn’t say no.”
You stifle a laugh. It’s folklore at this point, but there’s wisdom in it surely, so you’ll lean into that old rite of passage and play hard to get. Love is all about the complications, all the ways it can go wrong: endless rules and customs to observe, obstacles you’re determined to put in the way.
“Oh princess,” you start, knowing exactly how it’ll land in her ear, what it’ll do to her. “I’ll see you on Friday.”
-
The press event itself is simple and straightforward. There’s only ever going to be a singular moment during a movie’s production where no one in the cast wants to murder someone else and it’s in that brief period of time before filming starts. So grab onto that by the horns and show the media what a fun time this is all going to be. Go team, go. 
It’s the same series of questions as always: how did this cast come together, what do you think of the scripts, how is this going to be a challenge for you, what are you looking forward to, etc.
You’ve been through this song and dance enough times now to keep your answers evasive and beguiling, because at the end of the day, it’s the most productive way to do anything in this industry. It’s routine. It’s practiced. But the thing you notice almost right away, is just how infatuated the press is with the girl at the end of the table, how they heel almost immediately to her every gesture, the way Miyeon answers questions all with the confidence of someone’s who’s been at it for ages, but with the doe-eyed blinking naivety of a starlet ready to bare it all. You have to consider that part of the reason the media ends up so hot on Miyeon’s trail is all that god-given wit and charisma and charm. She’ll make fun of herself and her group mates and her co-stars and the staff, and she’ll tease the press and give them shit in a way that makes you feel as though there’s this cool, gorgeous, very important girl who’s noticing you and liking you enough to give you shit. Then sometimes she’ll wink for no reason at all, or she’ll get that flip of her hair over her shoulder just right that you think to yourself: wow, that’s an idol.
It doesn't mean a whole lot to you now, though you’ll be wringing your wrists about it later, but the takeaway here is this: Miyeon is universally loved. Full stop.
Please root for me, she says, again and again. All the stuff she’s supposed to say. I’ll do my best to make everyone happy. And she looks down the table, right at you, when she says: “My co-stars are all so wonderful and I’m so lucky to have them here with me, I’ll go ahead and thank them in advance for taking such good care of me.”
-
The press release is worth nothing to anyone with only the opinions of a bunch of attractive people paid to be on television. What it needs is photos. Specifically the ones where Miyeon hangs off your arm like you two are just a little bit more than meets the eye.
Sex sells. Suggestion is priceless.
So you’re standing there, grinning, wide and open, practiced and sure, toward the army of photographers. You look good. You know you look good. You’d know you look good even if Soyeon hadn’t crossed paths with you behind the stage just a few minutes ago and said, “wow, you look hot,” and “if I was any bit straight, I’d bang you right here.” Though it definitely helped. The exact shade of charcoal on your suit jacket is engineered to make your skin glow, and your hair is coiffed just right so that it sits effortless. You didn’t grow up imagining you’d have hairdressers or a stylist or for god sakes ever be wearing tailor-fit suits that cost someone else a fortune, but that’s how this all works. A rag-tag militia dedicated to making it look both like you’d just rolled out of bed and that’s only how things were ever meant to be—it’s your whole deal, all with the comprehensive appeal of a mischievous smile. The first flash, and you can feel your whole soul dilate in response. Hey! Look over here for me. Click. Click. Click. Raise your chin—hands at your sides—hold that for me—perfect. Click. Click. Click. It’s calming in a way. All the piercing lights, the clattering of camera shutters. The feeling that never grows stale is seeped in the familiarity of it all; your roots are here. It’s home. And there’s something unique about the blur of lights, something hard to put your finger on exactly, that it feels like the perfect backdrop to just zone out in. And the fact that you can’t really hear those anxious, gnawing thoughts in your head over all the shouting, the chattering, the commotion—boy, that feels good too. Though what you can hear is all the cameras turn, in unison. Something like a premonition.
It’s not the first time you’ve seen Cho Miyeon. You know how she looks in and out of her underwear, the way her blonde hair sits on her porcelain shoulders, how she’s all curves and pointed angles in the right places; you’ve seen her up close. Hell, she’d already taken your breath away, which in some regards is completely unfair, now considering that you haven’t any more breath to give. 
She doesn’t care; she’ll leave you asphyxiated, with a smile. Perfectly. It makes it feel like every smile you’ve seen before are just failed attempts. Like this is the real deal. Click. Click. Click.
The thing that has you lost for words is that it’s hard to know where exactly to start. Not only is Miyeon drop dead gorgeous, but here she is, pretending that she’s finding all that out for the very first time, blush burning across her cheeks like she’s not used to the attention. Her hair is pinned up, delicately placed into a perfect bun, wispy blonde strands falling aside her ears. And a pair of long, dangling earrings reflect the camera flashes aimed in her direction, scattering the light in every which way. Then it’s the fucking dress: it’s skintight, champagne, which is a good color on anyone, spectacular on her. You can’t let your eyes dip down all the way through the plunging neckline or you’d be staring at her midriff and thinking just how badly you want to undo the whole thing; pull gently on the tie at the back and let it all slump to the floor; get on top of her and have her cursing. Make her hot and flustered and moaning your name until you shoot a hot load all over that fucking tummy. Jesus. Fuck.
“Hey stranger,” she says, with restrained delivery, still smiling at the wall of flashing lights as she hooks her hand under your elbow.
“You’re late.” Maybe—just maybe—if you can somehow manage to find anything to be at fault, you can keep your thoughts as innocent as her doe-eyed countenance. She tilts her head, pulls back her soft, sweeping hair over one shoulder, and when she gets her eyes on you… god, it’s a tall order.
“Do you have any idea?” she asks, starting in half sentences because there’s not a lot of time between poses. Everyone’s looking at her, looking at the combined-unit, the you-and-her, and demanding more. “Just how hard it is to slip into something like this? I swear to god, I think I’m still holding that first breath.”
“Hey,” you whisper, clasping your fingers together. “You look great.”
“Of course I do.” Her other hand is at your waist, gentle and misleading, much like the rest of her. “Just about any girl would look good next to you.”
Falling is just not the correct term, to be precise. Too clumsy. Hardly does what’s going on here any justice. This is a meticulous process wherein Miyeon delicately binds and traps your heart into love—maybe even the platonic ideal of the femme fatale, and you’ll take twenty, thirty paces into quicksand before you realize you’re trapped, waist deep, unable to move, totally and proper fucked.
“Here,” she says, tugging gently on your arm until you’re hunched over slightly, ear sitting perfectly at her lips where they begin to part, whispering: “This will drive them crazy. Just this little private conversation. They’ll be guessing what I’m telling you here, right now, for weeks.”
You laugh as you watch everyone with a camera scoot to the edge of their seats, expecting something unexpected. On the off chance they’ll get lucky and catch the shape of that murmur out your mouth: “And what exactly is it that you’re telling me here?” “I’m curious,” she starts, “how bad do you think I want you right now?”
Oh. You register your whole body shifting its weight onto the other foot. Twice, the muscles in your legs tensing when she wets her lips with her tongue. A problem, maybe. Your eyes dart about because you’re in front of all these witnesses, and the instinctual urge from somewhere deep and unruly in your head amounts to something like a death wish: to get your hands on her in public, to throw caution to the wind and let her have access to you under all this scrutiny. It’s automatic; you’re leaning back on old habits; humor’s never failed a face like yours. “What, like on a scale of one to ten?”
She leans back, takes both your hands in hers and just grins. “I heard there’s sort of an afterparty later. You going?”
You swallow, collect yourself. “I am.”
“Yeah?” Miyeon’s lip pulls up at the corner, smirk cocked, ready to fire, and her eyes are sparkling, literally; every flash of a camera fills her dark irises with a sharp glister of gold. It’s actually kind of mesmerizing. “Me too.”
“Maybe I'll see you there,” you tell her, leading her to the stage exit.
“Hm, maybe,” she says, and she rubs a few circles into the back of your knuckles. “Though it’d be a sure thing if we go together, wouldn’t it?”
-
Truth be told, you never make it to the afterparty. You get sidetracked. You get distracted.
“Feels so good, oh my god.” Miyeon’s jaw clenches, teeth together so tight you can feel her body tense up. “So deep, so good, so, fuck—”
What Miyeon is ultimately trying to do in the backseat of your car is ride you hard and fast to the point where she’s mixing up her words, gasping for air, and blathering filth and obscenity from her pretty lips. Until her legs lock up and her eyes shut tight before cumming all over your waist. So yeah, the charcoal slacks end up being a little fortuitous.
She bucks into you hard, holding her weight with two hands on your chest, though she can’t bounce up and down on your cock like she’d much prefer. The way her clit rubs against you as she ruts into your hips like a wild animal feels awesome, even better for her, you reckon, but that’s no substitute for the heavensent sensation she gets running down her spine when you fill her starved cunt repeatedly with long, deep strokes. It’s cramped and awkward and your knees and elbows knock and scrape and she’s taking that frustration out on you. As best she can without hitting her head on the ceiling of the car.
You can certainly appreciate the irony of it. Because you’ve got the poster girl for a disney princess in a state of half-dress (half-undress? under duress? it’s not entirely clear), the champagne hem of that dignified gown bunched up around her hips, furling in supplication, and she’s fucking you in pretty much the least elegant fashion possible.
“God dammit,” she spits out before sinking her teeth into her lower lip, as you offer to help her grind on top of you with two handprints sunk firm into the round of her tight little ass.
It’s clumsy and uncouth, though still, riding you amounts to a religious experience for Miyeon, given the way her cunt is quivering, torrentially wet, and so, so, so hot. Clenching on you in something like worship, in adoration. She should probably be more embarrassed about some of the noises she’s making. They’re high-pitched, whining, desperate even. You can’t quite hear what she’s saying—not over the hollow echo of your sex through the small cabin of the car—but there are only so many iterations of, oh my god, please, fuck, faster, harder, need it, right there, faster, I, ah, ohmygod.
“Baby,” you whisper, wrapping an arm around Miyeon's waist and sinking you both further into the seat. “Fuck, I cannot believe this pussy; you’re so tight, fuck—”
She’s still smiling, though it’s absolutely devilish. Maybe that’s the praise she lives for. Everyone’s already telling her she’s gorgeous, that she’s talented, that she's beautiful inside and out, but she just simply can’t get enough of it: how you’ll slap her ass so hard she yelps and growl against her throat, cum in her cunt and tell her she’s perfect.“Want your cum, baby,” she murmurs, cheeks aflame, lips again parting open, “I want to watch you cum in me.”
“Miyeon,” you groan, “such a good fucking girl for me,” and she just nods, like a fantasy come to life.
She lifts herself up again. Comes crashing down. Good fucking god. Every little roll of her hips is a touch more agonizing than the last; she feels so fucking incredible around you that it all betokens danger. You’re buried so deep inside her that if let go of the breath you’re holding you would drown in the heat of her cunt, the velvety touch of her skin, the fact that she smells fucking amazing—all worked up and starting to sweat.
“Can you?” she asks, propping up the tall heel of her shoe onto the seat and trying to ride up and down your shaft just a bit faster, a little harder. You pull at her dress again, twisting it in your hand until you can see where your cock disappears between the creases of her thighs and into the warm embrace of her cunt. She’s fucking you reckless and sucking sharp gasps of air past her teeth, asking, “do you think you can cum like this?”
“You want me to finish in your pussy that bad, Miyeon?” you ask, shifting slightly in the space beneath her. “Want it so much, want to feel it,” she starts to pant, words disappearing in wet exhalation every time her thighs come spilling onto yours. “Want to feel your cock throb in my pussy, want to feel you fill me up.”
Even accounting for the fact that she’s so small on top of you and even easier to manipulate with nothing more than the firm grasp you have on her waist, it’s a whole ordeal to maneuver about the cramped backseat. Especially considering Miyeon would rather die than feel your cock leave her cunt. She lets out a needy whine, like you’ve done her some sort of injustice, when you find a hand under her shoulder and start to move. “Please…” she groans, grabbing desperately at the collar of your shirt. Searching hard for the unrealized potential of the tie around your neck.
You twist and turn, slide and shimmy until you’ve got Miyeon’s arms pinned behind her back, wrists trapped in your fingers and her svelte frame arching into you. It’s a little precarious, and it takes a few tries to find any sort of rhythm—holding her in place and gliding up into where she’s soaked and aching—but the moment you start slipping your cock up into her cunt, it dawns on you: you can absolutely cum like this. She’s so mind-numbingly tight, so hot, so easy to use; it’s not a challenge. Not in the slightest.
“Oh my god.” She cuts off those incredible noises, breath hitching in her throat. She doesn’t have an inkling of how to react; there’s no way around it. Not when you’re fucking her—truly fucking her—within an inch of her life and pulling her small body down onto your cock harder, faster, faster. Again, again.
Miyeon’s hair is the first thing begging to be ruined. Delicately fixed and pristinely manicured. Gentle waves tumbling over her shoulder as you trace your fingers up the curve of her spine, knead at the back of her neck, and thread into a handful of those ash-blonde locks. 
“Fuck.” Her whole body melts into you, and her voice is seeped in lust and need and want: “right there, right there, right there—”
Your fingers tighten in her hair, grip, pull. 
“Feel good?” you whisper into her neck, all this soft pale skin begging for a press of your lips.
“It feels—I, fuck.” Miyeon just stutters, eyes watering and chest heaving through all these incoherent breaths as you drive her to silence. Fuck her to submission.
“Princess,” you start, bringing your other hand up to her cheek. It’s the small details that truly send her: the thumb wiping away at the small tears on her long lashes, how you tuck a few misplaced wisps of golden hair behind her ear, dominance soft and doting—it’s not just the fact that you’ll pull her apart; it’s that you’re the one putting her back together. That’ll never be a secret she keeps from you, you figure, because she’s reduced to a whimpering, shuddering mess when you take her lips softly in yours. A chaste, gentle, unscripted kiss. Unbecoming of the reality that has you currently fucking raw and senseless into her creaming cunt.
“Tell me what you want, Miyeon.”
Sure, you’ve got in your hands the script of sin and innocence, and you’ll settle into an assigned part, a role to play. Though to be truthful, you just simply can’t help yourself. She’s delightful. The whispers out your mouth sink once more against her skin, sweaty and red and hot to the touch. She whines like your words cut right to the bone, lethal. Your hips come up, hilting deep in her cunt, and it’s enough to shake an earring loose and into the depths between the seats; you’ll spend a literal lifetime looking for it later. Her breath hitches, regressing to huffs and sharp draws of air when you drag your cock just along the right spot, apparently.
“Please, please, please,” she begs finally, sputtering with the waning energy of air escaping a balloon.
“I want to know what you need from me,” you tell her, letting your voice come out in such tantalizing fashion that it’s the kind of thing that could coerce the truth out of anyone.
“You,” she rasps, “all of you.”
How quick she turns to putty, muscles softening and tensing all at once. And you’re generously allowing her to take more, capitulating to her pleas of right there and harder please, pushing in as deep as you’ll go. You soothe her when she shudders and quakes—just a broad hand at her back—helping her adjust to you.
“Shit, Miyeon, you look perfect like this,” you mutter, watching the small tears that come from the corners of her hooded eyes. “Can’t get over how gorgeous you look taking me.”
Those small hums and moans leaving through closed lips are all she can muster. She clutches ahold of you even tighter, feeling the sharp bloom of everything trickle closer and closer like a dam about to break.
“Is that what you like to hear, princess?” you ask, fucking her right through her own orgasm and realizing it’s hopeless; you’re going to fall in love again and again with that pink stain in her cheeks. “Do you want to be my cumslut? Let me use your pussy whenever I want. You’re so tight and wet for me, Miyeon. You want my cock all the time, don’t you?” 
Some of it—maybe all of it—hits hard. She starts to shake. You’re fucking her cunt, steady and resolute, even as she fucking collapses, and her lips part like she’s going to wail, though never makes a sound.
“Words,” you order, breathless. “Oh…” It’s slow at first, that steady stream of fuck and please spilling out of her—curses flowing as easily as the air she breathes. You’ve got her at your complete control, a seeming extension of your will, and she presses her forehead to yours, gasping, “want to feel you fucking cum in me. Please do it, do it, I need to feel you, I want your fucking cum in me so bad. Please, please, please fucking make me yours. Do it, need you to use this little pussy and cum.”
You’re deep inside Miyeon, clutching hard around her waist and pulling down on it as you vault over the proverbial edge. Breathing heavy into her chest as you fuck all this hot cum into her cunt. She keeps rolling her hips, slowly, as if by instinct, to ride everything out of you, until you’re yanked back to the here and now.
“Oh my god,” she coos. Because it’d be impossible to not notice, leaking out of her and onto her thighs. 
“Miyeon.” The next sound that comes out of you is near indescribable: gravelly and plucked from deep in your throat. 
“So, so much for me,” she adds with a hint of exultation, running her fingers through your hair. 
Some part of you expected her to perhaps be more resilient, put up some semblence of a fight, but this is Miyeon, you realize—the roughness in your voice, the gentle touch of your fingers, the severity of an open palm, your lips at her throat—she loves it. Her hands are soon again cupping at your face, tongue reaching into your mouth. And she shudders at the way your cock slides out of her pussy.
“Messy,” you murmur into her kiss, quietly, and you hear her swallow when you skate your finger over her hips and down her stomach, tracing gently at the place you were pressed together, thoroughly covered in your cum, her slick.
“Uh.” Miyeon makes a face. Wrinkles her nose. “Gross.”
“Oh please,” you say as she cuddles up to you as far as the backseat of your car will allow. “You know you love it.”
-
Here’s the thing you fail to realize about a girl like her, a girl like Miyeon:
She’s more than just the physical, than the sum of her parts. She’s a feeling.
Oh, there’s plenty about the ways you touch her, the way her hand fits into yours, her hair running silky smooth between your fingers—how you can leave bruises on her thighs and marks on her neck, or reduce her to a whimpering mess with nothing but a firm grip. She laughs and it’s something that moves you to your core. She’s easy to admire from afar. And even easier up close, where you can appreciate the mastery in those brushstrokes.
But pay attention to how your blood drains from your cheeks, how the world stutters on its axis when you look at her. Because you can’t help but feel like you’re living life the way it’s portrayed in fiction when you do. Like you’re slipping into a world where no matter how insurmountable the odds, the good guy always wins.
-
“It’s all bullshit, that’s what it is,” someone is telling you with an almost unsettling confidence, even though their voice is shaky and ever-so-slurred with drink.
You’re sitting there, slightly listless, on one of the stools at a four-top, busy zoning out at the neon smirnoff sign behind the bartender like it might move if you look away for even a second. Your fingers are tapping on the table, and the fact that you can’t taste the kick in your heavily doctored gin and tonic means you’re already drunk. Probably. You’ll have to thank Miyeon later.
“Hey,” the someone starts again, “are you even listening to me?” It’s a little deep, raspy, but it sounds like it belongs to a girl.
No, you think.
“Sorry,” you say after blinking a few times and pulling yourself away from the sign. The girl sitting next to you frowns. “Have we met?”
“Yuqi,” Miyeon says, handing her a beer and setting her own drink down on the table. It’s pink and full of ice and in a ridiculous looking piece of glassware.
It goes without saying that you couldn’t show up to the main event—late, attached at the hip, and with Miyeon’s hair all disheveled and half-repaired like you two were fucking in secrecy—so Miyeon pitches the idea to you while you’re in the middle of wiping cum off your pants with napkins from the glove compartment: If you’re interested, there’s a bar nearby. My friends are there, it’s quiet but it’s nothing too pretentious.
“And you met Sana earlier,” Miyeon adds, lifting her chin in the direction toward the girl buried in her phone, tapping away furiously at a series of text messages—the way she hasn’t looked up in minutes and how her drink is nearly untouched implies some sort of drama. 
It’s kinda weird—you’re realizing you might have a type: they’re all some sort of blonde. Shockingly easy to look at too. With bodies that could fill a nighttime of fantasy, and supposedly somehow they’re best friends? Look, you’ve never seen two pretty best friends; it grinds against cosmic law, ain’t one of them supposed to be not so pretty? (Though maybe the rules are different when you land on odd numbers? If it isn’t all a little perplexing.)
“Know each other from work,” Miyeon explains, holding her hair back from her face and barely touching her lips to the rim of her glass.
“Uh.” Yuqi pops the top of the bottle off against the side of the table. “And we live together.” “Roommates?” you ask, carefully trying to keep your tone from sounding judgemental, and Miyeon gives you a solemn nod. There’ll be time to pry later.
“Look,” Sana says, only after finally putting her phone face down in front of her. There’s a story there. Maybe you’ll hear the end of it. “I’m not saying I’m proud of this attitude, okay, but that’s the truth: I make judgments based on what drink people order.” 
She fixes her eyes on you, and god, she’s gorgeous. It’s a different kind of beauty, a lot less subtle, way more in your face, and she knows she can get away with it. (Though it’s the patented hundred-megawatt smile of hers that’ll stick with you.)
“Like if you were drinking a cosmo or whatever the hell it is Miyeon’s got—”
“What?” Yuqi scoffs, and her eyebrow turns when she sees Miyeon wrap her arm around yours. “And just like that he’s not sexy or sophisticated, smart or virile? Is that it?” “I suppose…” Sana twists her lip between her teeth. “Maybe it’s context?”
“No, that makes sense,” you say, and you dab at a ring of condensation on the table with a bar napkin. “Like I wouldn’t hesitate to take a cosmo if I was stranded in an airport in February and the planes are getting de-iced and the pilots are deciding whether to take off or go home.”
“I’d order a double,” Miyeon says, and you swear she’s closer to you each time you check.
“So then tell us, what’s the quintessential manly drink then?” Yuqi asks, skeptical, and a little disappointed to even be entertaining the question. “If pink cosmos are on one end of the spectrum…” “Dunno.” Sana crosses her legs, and rubs at her chin. “I suppose anything that comes in one of those squat, burly glasses.”
“The kind that real men hurl across the bar at another man’s head,” you deadpan.
“Oh my god.” Sana springs forward in her seat, and her gaze pins you to where you’re sitting. “You get it. Do I know you from somewhere? I swear you’ve got a face that’s familiar.” “Maybe I just got one of those faces,” you tell her, and Miyeon squeezes her fingers gently around your knee. 
“Maybe.” Sana tilts her head, letting out a mostly unentertained chuckle, dry and humorless. You can see the gears slowly churning in her head.
Yuqi’s got her bottle turned up nearly perpendicular to the ceiling, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand—it’s all oddly charming—and she just lets out a wistful sigh. “Someone should make a movie, an old western maybe, where someone flings an oversized martini glass. You could start a movement.”
You’re not really thinking about anything in particular when the conversation ebbs and flows, except that you’re content; buzzed with the bitters in your drink; and the ephemeral touches of the hand in your lap, gentle, curious, teasing. There’s something laid back about being in Miyeon’s company that draws you in, something effortless, like the world seems less maliciously unfriendly, even if she ends up managing to embarrass you in a game of billiards. She finds the table at the end of the bar and readies a flip comment while rubbing chalk into the end of a pool cue. You watch as it leaves white streaks all over her chic dress, and you’re kind of enamored by the fact she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re sure you’ve played before?” she ribs, pulling a hairpin from her clutch, and clipping it to the hair at one temple to keep it from interfering with her game.
“Aren’t you a wealth of talents,” you say, in admiration.
“Do you mean, appearances can be deceiving?” she asks while sizing up a shot, grins—a smile that suggests mischief, which is normal, except that this one invites you to be part of it. “I think you might be putting words in my mouth.” 
“Oh,” she says, and with her lovely, slender, fingers pressing onto the green baize, she sockets three shots in a row. Misses on the fourth. “So now you don’t like me putting things in your mouth, is that it?”
“Hm,” you say, ignoring the obvious bait and lining up a shot. “This is going to be a weird question.”
Miyeon drops her arm and tilts her head quizzically. 
“What do you think of the script?” 
“The one that has us heartbroken and lost and wandering until we rediscover love is right where we left it?” 
“That’s the one.”
Miyeon covers her mouth to laugh when you take your shot and it misses in such grand fashion that you can’t help but hang your head. “It’s the dress shirt,” she says to comfort you.
“I’ll take what pity I can get.”
You’re watching Miyeon in action—hair carefully swept back, earrings sparkling, and heels set firmly on the floor—all together rather enchanting. She makes several more shots, aimed with perfect precision and seriousness, before finally answering you: “dunno, seems a little psychotic.”
“I mean that’s the thing about romance,” you begin, “there’d be no story if the writers weren’t at least a little psychotic.”
“Oh by the way.” Yuqi’s voice booms at that moment, with all the subtlety of a bulldozer: “I’ve gotta take Sana home. She’s late to getting plowed by her new manager. I’ll catch you later.”
“That isn’t—” Sana huffs, pinches at the bridge of her nose, and stops herself short, before reapproaching it in a more bracing way. “I’m telling you he gets all worked up whenever I’m out drinking this late.” 
“Worked up, huh?” Yuqi grins at a parody of a smile, and turns to you, laughing. “That’s how she likes him.”
“Yuqi,” Sana groans.
Miyeon rests her cue up on the table and crosses her arms, smirking in your direction. “Life imitates art, right?
-
“You’ve got a girl here, don’t you?” Minnie asks, at nine in the morning and standing in your living room. It reminds you of the fact that you have a meeting on your calendar on today’s date between you and your agency’s lawyer at nine in the morning.
She's not some expert sleuth. At least, not as far as you're aware. It could be one of any number of things that tips her off: Miyeon’s heels are in your foyer, her champagne dress folded neatly over the back of your couch, or maybe it’s the pair of underwear that landed perfectly on the corner of your television. What it is not, however, is the reddening outline of Miyeon’s lips on your Adam's apple; you’re doing a pretty good job of coyly covering that up with your palm.
“I mean yeah, I suppose you could say that.”
“I don’t know if you could’ve answered that more ominously.” Minnie laughs, shuffling past where you stand in the door frame and setting her bag down on your kitchen island, surveying the mess in your apartment. She stands before you, wearing all black and looking down her nose at you.
(She’d pretty much cornered the market on wearing all black and looking down her nose at you, and you always take a moment to marvel that anyone could live on the earth only twenty-some odd years and manage to wear all black and look down their nose at you with such timeless self-assurance.)
“If you need her to sign an NDA, I’ll have to swing back by the office to pick up the proper paperwork.” “I don’t need her to sign an NDA,” you say, turning on water from the faucet and filling a kettle. The hand you have running through your hair helps you remember that you are still very poorly put together: a mess of bedhead, t-shirt, underwear, and only a singular sock to your name. Not that it matters, you suppose. Minnie’s seen you worse.
“Wow. Things must be getting serious, huh.” Minnie drums her fingers on the counter. “Well whatever it is, I’ve got stuff for you to sign.”
“I thought we walked through all the contract boilerplate already.” “We did.” “And?” “Contracts change.” The pen she has in her fingers, scanning over a stack of papers, is poised. Her slow nod studious, blandly puzzled. “That’s why you need me.”
“Now if that isn’t an unfortunate truth,” you say, and Minnie raises an eyebrow. “Good change or bad change?”
“Depends. Have you met Cho Miyeon, the other lead? She’s cute, blonde.” Minnie hovers her hand an inch in front of her nose. “About yea high.” 
“A few times,” you answer, sorta truthfully.
Minnie tilts her head, and licks her thumb to flip through the first couple pages in the stack. “Well, the producers want you two to be seen. Together. Somewhere high profile and suggestive.”
“Okay.” You’re pouring hot water from the kettle over coffee grounds and a filter when you realize you have no idea what that’s about. You voice as much: “I have no idea what that means.”
“Well, here’s the general thought: they figure they can get some free marketing, brush up a little media buzz, get people talking about this movie if some paps snap some pictures of you two where it looks like you’re—”
“Where it looks like we’re dating. Okay, sure, wonderful.”
“Your words, not mine—or the producers, legally.” You fall silent, thinking: there’s no such thing as fairytales, it was bound to happen, a trip up, a snag, a snare. You know, in essence, it’s trouble.
“Um.” Your shoulders drop. “The producers want a scandal, Minnie.” “Again, I’m not legally allowed to call it that.” She shakes her head, before putting something down on a lined memo pad with great industry. “And if that’s your assessment, you came to it all on your own with no help from me.”
But yes, she mouths to you silently. You got it, aren’t you clever, now play along.
“Does this not feel like shaking a hornet’s nest?” you ask her. “Surely there’s a better way to go about receiving death threats; she’s a damn idol.”
“She certainly is,” Minnie says, passing you the pen and giving you her practiced professional-but-still-definitely-sardonic-smile that always manages to emote, please don’t be difficult. If she’s hoping it inspires confidence, it does not. “Sign the new contract.”
You’ve got plenty of reasons to have reservations, but here’s a fun fact not a lot of people know: there’s a part of you perfectly content shutting up and doing what you’re told. Maybe it’s something about pretty girls with dark eyes, long legs and a curl in their lip that upstages anything like subtlety—an Achilles heel of sorts. Except instead of your mother forgetting to bathe your feet in the river styx, you’ve just got some mother issues in general.
“There,” Minnie says, watching you initial on the dotted line. “Was that so hard? Someday, you’ll look back and think, yeah, that’s where it all goes to shit.
-
Three weeks into filming, you make good on your promise.
It would have been neater, perhaps, if all the sneaking around and impropriety caught up with you and used this moment as a catalyst: if, filled with embarrassment, you owned up to everything that was going on between you. Might’ve saved you some hurt.
You watch Miyeon’s hand shoot up to her mouth only to find whimpers leaking out from beneath her palm.
What if all those cameras had instead gotten pictures of you and Miyeon here, in the restroom of a cafe that Miyeon swore up and down would be crawling with paparazzi—where Miyeon had dragged you by the wrist halfway through a bottle of dry chardonnay, locked the door behind her, and flicked the skirt of a her floral dress up over her hips. Imagine the way it would look: you on your knees, face buried between Miyeon’s legs— 
“I swear… your fucking mouth,” Miyeon murmurs, fingers running through your hair. 
—all you know is that it would have been a different kind of disaster.
“Oh,” she moans, and you swallow heavily at the sight of her above you, following the movement in her face: every wince, every flinch, pleasure absolute and wringing her dry. She’s pretty as always, eyes dark and twinkling under the cool fluorescent lights. It’s that damn blush again, and you’re convinced eating Miyeon out feels like the most normal thing in the universe, like you’ve done it a million times before, and you’ll do it a million times more. Just listen to how Miyeon’s breath stutters when you lap softly at the heat between her lips, lifting her hood and swirling her clit once, twice, before bringing the narrow point of your tongue back to the shallow depth of her aching entrance. She shudders at all how you tease her, slick pooling in your mouth, down your chin; a pinched off moan filling the bathroom when you add another finger inside her. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” she says, gasping out on top of an embarrassed little sigh each time time she bucks against the touch of your hand. You spread her lips, get your tongue flatter, deeper, and she drops her shoulders, laughing in that high-pitched skittery way she does when she’s struggling not to cum all over you with her eyes clenched shut.
It’s a sight to behold: Miyeon twisting her brows and biting into her lower lip—chewing off all the lip-gloss you know she just put on because you watched her make a show of it at the table like it was the most delicate thing in the world. She looks soft, docile even, and hums out a wistful note when you squeeze your hand into her thigh. Swallows back a moan when you reach up and knead at her chest. Yeah, she is soft. Tender and malleable and perfect. How easily you keep her pinned in place with just a flex of your wrist.
“Now would you look at that, princess,” slips out of you, totally carefree, lifting your lips from her pussy and wiping the wet from your chin. She sways slightly, and you’re leaning into her space, voice nearly coming out breathy and flooded as hers, asking, “You’re so wet, Miyeon. How do you want me to make you cum? On my fingers?”
Miyeon just sighs, lust and need glittering in her eyes. If there’s anything you’ve picked up from all of this so far, from all the raunchy sex, every manner in which she’s puddled in your grip, all the times she’s begged for you to hold her down and rail her—more than anything else, Miyeon loves, loves, loves to be teased. 
But it’s the way her smile stretches, just perfectly, or even just one glance from those doleful eyes—fuck, goddamnit, one day I am really going to fucking die written into the shy curve of her lips—you’re never quite that cruel. Her panties are dropped to the floor and hanging around her ankle, soaked, ruined, but that doesn’t mean she needs to be too; you bring your lips back to her pussy. Fingertips curling up against that spot that drives her up the wall and your tongue running laps around her swollen clit.
“Oh, like that,” Miyeon whines, barely able to make any noises louder than a whimper, “just like that, please, yes, like that—”
And then you catch the aching swell of her clit between your lips. Slowly, start to suck.
“God,” she breathes out, still writhing from the fingers you have inside her, your thumb rubbing against wet, slippery skin, right how you’ve learned she likes it. And she gasps, head rolled back, brows furrowed up: “Oh, yes, oh God, you — you’re perfect. It’s — ”
That really never gets old.
Everything stills for a moment. Everything besides your fingers fucking her quietly while her orgasm quakes through her. She’s catching her breath, staring at you—skin dewy with sweat and chest heaving. Her warmth wraps around you, surrounds you, and you’d be content to stay like this forever, pressing kisses into her stomach and never, ever letting go.
That is until she looks at you, lashes fluttering, as if she’s trying to gauge your emotions. Until she speaks. “I want it,” she gasps, breath steadying, “I want your cock.”
She knows you, right down to the basics: you can never deny her anything.
-
(You’re being cautious—covering your tracks, you convince yourself—but then there’s all this evidence to the contrary, no shortage of close calls, times where you’re so nearly caught: Miyeon’s lithe, tight body grinding desperately against yours in a costume closet or her dressing room or in the backseat of your car; the way she keens when you slip your fingers inside her, how she wails in delight when you really fuck her in earnest; you cutting off those unabashed moans with your mouth or your hand or even just two fingers shoved between her lips so she might have something to bite down on.
It’s this whole thing, the sneaking around, the indiscretion—Miyeon loves it. And the danger of it all become something like a siren’s call, you are just as attracted to the idea too, that you’re masking who you are in the dark, just past drawn curtains and under fitted sheets.
“Wow, I never noticed, but you guys are, like, weirdly close,” Soyeon says once, sometime near the beginning, and perhaps when you’d begun to stare a little too obviously as Miyeon was tying her hair back. It has you both laughing off the observation as something trivial, like Soyeon was the odd one out for noticing anything at all. But fast forward a few hours, and you’re sprawled out on a set of hotel linens, having a laugh again all while Miyeon fucks herself on your hard cock, delighted at how easy it is to conceal everything in plain sight.)
-
“Um,” Yuqi says, walking into the living room of Miyeon’s apartment with her laptop precariously perched on her forearm.
You’re out there on a Wednesday, hanging out, kissing Miyeon every now and again, but talking mostly. The rationalization is that you’re practicing and memorizing lines, ironing out kinks that aren’t really there. Which is all how you know things are getting out of control, if not among the other hints: Miyeon’s added a spare toothbrush in the cup on your bathroom vanity, a pile of women’s laundry atop your washing machine that never grows any smaller, beauty products under the sink, and there’s all those damn bobby pins that show up in every corner of your apartment. “It’s just casual”, you overhear her say once, on the phone with Sana, and you do your best to never, ever think about it.
“You idiots, you’re trending.” Yuqi sits down on the sofa next to you, not at all disconcerted that you’ve got your hand in the ends of Miyeon’s hair or that she’s practically sitting in your lap. You learn pretty quick that Yuqi feels like she belongs anywhere. In some ways, that’s her charm. “And?” Miyeon asks, dismissive.
“Are you both insane?” Yuqi turns her laptop around so you can read her feed.
There’s a series of pictures on the screen attached to a headline that starts with breaking in bold capital letters, like its only true purpose is to fuck up the internet. Your eyes start on Miyeon first, the tilt of her chin, her fingers floating across her collarbones, smile radiant—looking at you the way she always does when she’s mentally undressing you. Fortunately, she’s still perfectly made up, hair tied up above her shoulders and the mascara under her eyes not quite yet running; this photo is before you made a mess of all that, gotten her moaning your name in the restroom. You’ve got your hand at the back of your neck, and you’re laughing. The glint in your eye screams complicity. 
Miyeon says emptily, “you’re overreacting.” 
Yuqi’s frown deepens fractionally, but you’re putting the pieces together. It’s pretty unhinged.
 “Christ,” you start, “get a look at some of these retweets: I’m just thinking of what those kids would look like, the genetic payout; fuuuuuuck I need to see that sextape.” You laugh. “Look, this one just says: sex.”
Miyeon leans forward in your lap, cheek nearly pressed against yours. “Here’s one: how much do you wanna bet Miyeon tops when they—”
Yuqi bursts out laughing, clearly almost snorts, and you both raise an eyebrow at her. “What? This girl here isn’t topping anyone.”
“Shut it.” Miyeon rubs her hand at her chin, turns her eyes up at you, and without an ounce of irony continues, “How much do you wanna bet? That these are your fans.”
Yeah, probably not, you think. “I’m sorry. Do you have any idea how my demographic skews? Not like your fans who are…” Miyeon’s face lights up. “Are delightful?” “Have a sock at home with Miyeon’s name on it?” Yuqi chimes in, grinning. “I mean if somebody wants to make a puppet of me,” Miyeon says, practically huffing out the words, “that’s not really any of your concern.”
Yuqi makes a face. You watch as she slowly twirls one of those long waves of pink hair around her finger (strawberry blonde, Miyeon called it, and you don’t know shit all about that, but it does sound pretty, so that fits, you guess). It goes all the way down to her waist, and you’ve noticed, possibly for a second or third time, that she looks killer in a pair of high cut jeans—what all with the long legs and an ass that more than plenty fills them out, she could be peddling denim on a Levi’s catalog.
“What should be your concern,” Yuqi says, “is that the internet thinks you’re getting railed on the regular.” It’s quick—blink and you’d have missed it—her eyes lingering for a moment on your expression before she lifts her chin and laughs, dryly, almost nervously to fill the silence. “What the fuck is wrong with you two?”
-
Yuqi’s expertise, first and foremost, is talking. Go ahead, take a moment to consider how wildly dangerous that is, for a girl with a face like hers and a body like that to be good at talking. Every so often you catch her staring at you with her huge, beautiful eyes, these deep pools of pure anthracite; the sort of charming that keeps you smiling and laughing without even knowing why. She’s equal parts badmash and coquettish, you realize, and somewhere in the seamlessness with which she swaps between the two is a hint that both are facades. (That there exists a third Yuqi, the one who determines which mask is appropriate for which occasion but who is otherwise veiled, obscured, entirely impossible to know.)
Whatever your theory for it, the charm, the innuendos, the suggestion, it all gets dialed up to eleven.
Yuqi suggests you stay for dinner in a way that is impossible to refuse, and Miyeon grumbles something inaudible, but you think you’re able to piece it together: this is a regular thing for them. Miyeon and you haven’t talked numbers or cleared up the bodycount, haven’t talked about anything serious at all—the most incriminating thing between you being Miyeon laying her head on your chest, cunt still full of your cum, saying, I’m really glad I met you—of all of Miyeon’s princes-in-waiting, you’d be a fool to think you were the first. And you’re willing to wager Yuqi’s done all this before.
“Hey, how do you take your whiskey?” she asks, pouring olive oil over a bowl of cherry tomatoes and chopping a sprig of fresh basil. If Miyeon wasn’t glaring at her, the quirk in Yuqi’s lip has you swearing she would’ve thrown a wink in your direction. Just for good measure.
“Neat is fine,” you tell her, and Miyeon rolls her eyes. -
It’s actually not true that Yuqi kisses you first. Not the whole truth anyway. “Hard to explain it in words, huh?” she asks, leaning into your space and nearly pushing you over the back of the sofa. Her knee is between your thighs, pressing up on your crotch in a way that feels good and threatening. She knows that’s the only thing she needs to keep you in place, so she leaves her hands at her chest, fingers toying with the top button of her shirt—ruminations of whether to unbutton it herself or wait for you to finally tear the whole thing off her.
(There’s a million different ways you could do this, but you’re perfectly content seeing how this plays out.)
“With just a few of them that is,” Miyeon says, drying her hands with a towel at the kitchen sink.
“Oh,” Yuqi starts, and her lips twist into an approximation of a smile. “You’re saying you two don’t have a label.”
“We’re coworkers technically,” you tell her, faux-casual, like it doesn’t beg twenty more questions.
“I don’t know; the internet thinks you guys are in fucking love.” Yuqi’s fingers come to a decision: slipping the button out of place with a little effort and resting at the next one down. Her neck is pale and tender and you’re only pulling away long enough from the glint in her big gorgeous eyes to know you want to get your lips on it. “And you’re telling me you wouldn’t be jealous—even a little—if I started sucking his cock.” 
She gets jealous easy, is how Yuqi explains it to you, freeing an ounce of soft cleavage, a sneak of black lace with another button. Look, it’s just chemistry—you have it with everyone. Who can fault you for it?
“Hm.” Miyeon shrugs, looking put upon, and leans back against the counter where she spends a long moment with her arms crossed, before running her thumb across her chin. “Can I mention something?” “Anything for our princess,” Yuqi says, finally touching you. Just two fingers at your sternum. “Right?” “Why is it you’re never the one bringing anyone home?”
“I’m not a slut,” Yuqi says, straight-faced, and Miyeon’s whole expression goes awry. That’s probably where she seals her fate.
Not that you think for a second Yuqi had recused herself from the attention of boys, girls—none of it in short supply—and for all her “fidelity”, you refuse to believe the things she does with her words are unintentional, that her talent for seduction is somehow innate, something god-given.
“How can you be so sure?” you ask, fingers threading through Yuqi’s hair until she tilts up her chin and smiles.
Eventually there comes a moment where Miyeon meanders around the kitchen island and gets a hold of you. Figuratively and literally; eyes hardened on you in a way you’re not sure you’ve seen before. 
Mine, is what she’s telling Yuqi in no ambiguous terms, hands hooking into the waist of your pants.  
“Tell me something,” Yuqi starts with your name on her lips, “does she beg for it? When you’re fucking her, does she whine and cry until she’s collapsed and panting? Really, I’m curious. Does she look at you with those pretty eyes and plead for you to pump her full of cum?”
“Yuqi,” Miyeon says, kind of sharply.
To be clear, you’re not totally without blame here either, seeing the opportunity as it appears, seizing it for yourself—and you say the words as you think them: “it’s kind of her thing, I guess.”
“Total cumslut, right?” Yuqi’s hands are all over your arms, your chest, and you’re spread in both directions, reaching around Miyeon’s waist, and toying at the tight fit of Yuqi’s jeans. She leans forward a little, side-eyeing the way Miyeon’s lip ever so slightly curls when she enters that anxious proximity a breath's distance away from you, whispering: “I’m nothing like that, I’m so much better.”
“You’ve got a real mouth on you,” Miyeon tells her, watching her shirt fall down her petite shoulders. “You know that?” Yuqi’s eyes are flaring hot, dripping with untoward intent, and they stay on you just long enough for her to make certain you’re paying attention before she turns to Miyeon. “I know you love this mouth.”
You realized it long before dinner, it’s true, probably long before today: Yuqi likes you, which, at present, is pretty obvious. She likes it when you smile, likes it when you rub your hand at the nape of your neck and laugh at her witty one-liners, likes it when you ruffle your hair just like you’ve done in front of the camera your whole life. Yuqi likes you just as Yuqi likes Miyeon, and she’s twisting her hand at your shirt tighter yet, hoping one of you might just kiss her. “Miyeon,” you say after an inhale, commanding tone right where you left it, and it’s comical how fast both girls heel. Isn’t that good to know. Filing it away in a mental folder of sorts, you straighten yourself onto your feet, slowly. The thing that ends up flipping the table—the thing that has Miyeon’s expression of general discontent rally to something a little more impending—is just how much taller you are than Yuqi. And when that hits her, swallow visible through the hollow of her throat, there’s a waver in that deadly expression of hers, a weakness, something you can exploit. Your hand finds purchase under Yuqi’s jaw, gently, and you tilt her face toward you like you’re about to kiss her. Only instead, you run your thumb across her lower lip and say, “I don’t blame you, her mouth is gorgeous.”
“And?” Yuqi finds her composure quickly. “What do you want this mouth to do?”
 “Oh, Yuqi,” Miyeon says, malice hidden under a voice tender and semi-sweet, before you can think to prepare an answer. She’s twisting Yuqi’s bra strap between her fingers as it comes down around her shoulder. “I want you to get me ready for his cock.”
“I,” Yuqi starts— 
“Hm?” Miyeon asks, and that’s a pitch in her voice you’ve never heard. You’re looking over both of them enigmatically, ready to walk away from this with a clear picture of who Yuqi is, obviously, but then it’s the expression on Miyeon’s face—so unbothered, so lewdly satisfied, you have to know more.
“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m just gonna watch.” Yuqi reaches up on her toes before Miyeon can react. 
Kisses you right in front of her.
-
It’s not really clear to you who, if anyone, is piloting this thing, only that it’s moving at near out of control speeds. And even though Miyeon’s bed isn’t even quite big enough to hold you all, that ends up doing little to slow either of them down. 
Miyeon is between your legs, preening a few strands of glossy hair back behind her ear that have real determination to keep falling in front of her face. You’d offer to help, to get your hands in it and pull tight, but you’ve come upon an acquired taste for the blowjob Miyeon’s barely giving you right now. A masterwork in its own right: a certain finesse in each flick of her tongue, the soft cushion of her pouty lips, the way every gentle kiss finds you that much fucking harder in her fingers. She drags her tongue up, tastes the pre-cum weeping from your cock. Just smiles like she knows how bad you want hold her tight and fuck her throat. The glint in her doe-like eyes tells you that you will.
She gets it. Terror lives in anticipation, not the bang. That sanguine expectation of pleasure becomes pleasure in of itself. Her instincts tell her to tease, tell her to kiss and lick; only when you’re finally shuddering a wet breath through your teeth, does she part her lips around the head of your cock and start to suck.
She takes in an inch, maybe another. Slides her tongue slowly under your cock, and christ, her mouth feels fucking amazing.
You sigh like you’re stepping into a hot bath, and Miyeon’s satisfaction is equally palpable: corners of her mouth stretching around you into a pretty little smirk, something you’re more than happy to feel running up and down your cock until she slacks her jaw and takes you in full, past her soft, wet lips.
Though when finally you look up, you realize Yuqi’s barely on the bed actually—just one knee and it looks precarious—unfazed that she’s spilling off the end; working her hands into the bottom of Miyeon’s skirt like she’s done it a thousand times. She drags her underwear down her thighs, and Yuqi reminds you that she’s got the exact kind of wicked streak that’ll never let an opportunity go to waste:
“Oh,” she says, head up over Miyeon’s ass, blinking in admiration, “she’s even buying new lingerie for you, huh? I didn’t realize how head over heels—”
“Jesus Christ.” Miyeon’s lips are still half complicating themselves with your cock; she pumps her slender fingers around you in consolation, and murmurs, “do you ever fuck? Or you all tease.”
“Well if you insist,” Yuqi purrs, a mean tilt to her voice—because in the end, she knows that she wants to; that with her small body right between you, like this, there's plenty of her to share; that when it comes to Miyeon, there always is. “Hm,” she hums, slipping a finger or two inside Miyeon’s pussy. Your vision of it being the way Miyeon’s face twists delightfully, eyebrows sewn together in a perfect discord with the rest of her angelic features. “Baby, you’re so wet—”
“She loves the attention,” you say, and Miyeon’s eyes track yours while she lowers her lips slowly down your shaft once more. “If I had to guess, the only thing better than me fucking her perfect little cunt, is if there’s an audience there to watch it.” Your hand rests below Miyeon’s ear, fingers kneading at the back of her neck and guiding her just enough so that her tongue is flat and slick where you want it. “Isn’t that right, princess?”
Yuqi separates her lips from Miyeon’s asscheek, that heavy, open-mouthed kiss at the curve of creamy skin coming to an end just long enough to catch you smirking. She’s fucking the girl’s cunt open with her fingers, slowly, reminding Miyeon that she doesn’t have it confused—that she knows she’s nothing like the princess everyone believes her to be, that she’s so much more. “Always such a good slut, baby. Go on, show me how you take that cock.” “How about you come over here,” you tell Yuqi, before looking back at Miyeon’s eyes, innocent and blinking like she isn’t taking you in and out between her tightly-sealed lips. “Help me cum in her throat.” At that, you feel Miyeon’s jaw slack open even further, and the fingers she has corkscrewing around you find room at your hips instead. It’s hard to get over how perfectly submissive she can be, the way this always plays out; you’ve never needed anything like safewords, because Miyeon trusts you implicitly. Trusts that you’d never, ever hurt her. Trusts that you’ll get your hard cock in her and fuck her until her knees are wobbling and she’s practically unable to walk. Trusts that you won’t even hesitate when she asks for more. Yuqi lands a few more kisses at Miyeon’s cunt, along her ass, and then, without warning, sinks her teeth into all that soft, pliable skin. Miyeon winces, something you can feel, a sharp moan becoming sealed in against your cock and leaking slightly between her lips like it’s the drool running down your shaft. Apparently the image of you firing off a salvo of cum deep in Miyeon’s throat is as hot as it sounds, because Yuqi is grinning like a cheshire cat as she slides off the bed. “I just hope you realize you’re on the docket for quite a lot here.”
“What’s that, high expectations?”
“A lot more than a throatpie,” Yuqi says, hopping onto the bed next to where you’re sitting, where you’re slowly fucking Miyeon’s mouth. Each time you lift her face up and down the length of your cock, you feel the back of her throat, start to catalog the noises she makes as she starts to slobber onto you.
“Yeah,” you say, fisting a second hand into Miyeon’s hair. “I was kind of counting on it.”
“Go figure.” Yuqi’s voice is low and raspy, right into your junction where your shoulder meets your neck. She reaches an arm around you, leaving ephemeral kisses at your jaw, your cheek, getting her lips right next to your ear, where she whispers, “you’re actually kinda depraved.”
“Well, welcome to showbiz, I guess.” “Hm,” Yuqi says, watching you shudder as her fingers arrive around the base of your cock, fucking you with them in tandem as you sleeve yourself in out of Miyeon’s hot mouth like she’s some toy to be used, to be fucked, to be ruined.
Your mouth opens and closes, twice, before sputtering, “I’m actually—”
“One of the normal ones?” Yuqi tightens her grip. She’s picking up all that slick drool and precum where it threatens to leak onto your waist, and it makes her touch every bit as life-endingly-incredible as the tight fit of Miyeon’s mouth. The combination of which has you groaning audibly.
“Yeah, sure,” you breathe, “something like that.” 
“And a narcissist too.” Yuqi pulls at your face to unstick your gaze from the sight of your cock disappearing between Miyeon’s soft, pretty lips. You recognize the touch of her hand as it wanders down to your balls, gently, but still very much present. And right after the silence stretches, just a little too far, she says, “aren’t you two just perfect for eachother.”
Yuqi kisses you hard. These sweltering, stinging, asphyxiating kisses that grab at your lips with no intention of letting go, and everything becomes oddly quiet. All you can hear, outside of those messy, strangled sounds from Miyeon’s throat as you fuck your cock into it, is the dull pulse of blood rushing through your head. It’s as if the two of them are pleasure in resonance, channeling onto the same wavelength: Miyeon’s tongue is doing just about fucking everything each time you pull your throbbing cock out of her throat, and she slips it past her lips—starts lapping—when you weave your fingers in her hair even tighter. She gets messier, sloppier, her composure fading like it’s the mascara beneath her eyes. You can feel the flutter of her lashes against your waist right as you pull her mouth back down your shaft. It’s hot and wet and you don’t even realize you start bucking your hips, dragging Miyeon’s lips around your cock quickly, quicker, quicker—
“God,” you mutter, final threads torn apart, and that’s the exact reaction that has Yuqi smiling against your teeth, whispering into your lips, can feel you fucking throbbing. Cum in her for me, cum in her throat. Cum.
Mnnph.
Yeah, that’ll push you right to the edge, teetering. In freefall, actually, jaw snapping shut first—fingers shortly after—you tug hard at where you’ve gathered slipshod pigtails of shimmering, silky-smooth hair, and Miyeon quite nearly chokes as you release everything into her mouth, deluge-like. You’re going to make a mess, you think. You’ll make more.
Mmnnppph.
Okay, it’s filthy is what it is; the sounds of it alone are fucking filthy. That seal of soft lips around you starts to break, leaving you with the flood of cum and spit spilling down your cock and into Yuqi’s fingers as Miyeon gasps at an overwhelmingly desperate draw of air. The struggle to swallow you down is beyond unreasonable, but she brings her mouth back onto you again—closes her eyes and sucks. 
“All of it,” Yuqi whispers still. That’s the kick, and your whole body commits to sighing as she jerks your cock into the wet heat of Miyeon’s mouth. She twists gently, pumping, pulling, fucking every last bit of tension out of your muscles and draining it thoroughly into Miyeon’s throat.
(So that’s what you like, is how you think Yuqi says it, eyes studying your torn expression in equal parts apathy and awe.
She licks your cum off the sharp edge of her knuckles, from between her fingers, and she glances down at where Miyeon is still lapping her tongue at sensitive skin and sucking and cleaning you between her lips. Her lipstick is smeared, makeup running, with tears visible at the ends of her lashes, her cheeks still burning hot and embered. Miyeon looks perfect in many ways, but only flawless in one.)
“Good lord.” Yuqi’s eyes are creased in laughter near the end of your recovery, lighting fast and pulling you over Miyeon’s delicate frame. It’s the kind of laughter that’s genuine and contagious. Sweetly harmonic.
Calling you to join in while you glide your cock between Miyeon’s thighs and press the small of her back into her mattress until she’s practically prone to the bed, tight little ass angled up, proffering, and simply begging for you to pound away. 
“And I mean this in the most respectful way possible,” Yuqi says, with a hair tie between her teeth and fixing back her long waves into something more manageable, hoping it might be something you can pull and yank. What’s the saying—a brave man dies once, but a coward ought to know that Yuqi will always, always, always get what she wants.
“You two are actually really fuckin’ weird.” Her eyes are smoldering, lips quirked into a careless little grin. “I love it.”
-
“Alright, I’m going to have to ask,” Miyeon says, “do I need to be worried about this?”
Someone probably should be. The realization you’re hurdling into is that there exists both a waking up with Yuqi and a waking up with Yuqi, much in the same way there exists both a sleeping with Yuqi and a sleeping with Yuqi.
The three of you do first wake up together, just this ridiculous tangle of limbs that really only has one realistic conclusion, and when Miyeon reminds you—bent over the bathroom sink minutes later and cumming on Yuqi’s fingers—she has to be at the studio in an hour to refilm a few of her over-the-shoulders shots, and it’s not fair that you get to laze around all day, and that her manager is literally going to be here to pick her up any minute, Yuqi and you do the most natural thing in the world. You continue waking up.
You wake up in the shower, on the kitchen island, back again in Miyeon’s room since it’s already kind of fucked up anyway; Yuqi wakes you up all while her knuckles turn white around the door handle of the refrigerator, the back of the living room sofa, and it’s not really that convincing when she turns to Miyeon, one eye shut tight, and tells her, “no, not at all.”
Because when you try to voice something similar, your words get caught pretty deep in your throat, stuck and unmoving. That's become pretty familiar. It’s all pretty fucked, actually.
Yuqi’s on her knees in front of you, fist tight around your cock and jerking all this hot cum onto her face. There’s sin tucked everywhere into these pages. Particularly on her nose, her lips, her cheek, bisecting one of her perfectly manicured eyebrows. You have your proclivities. The tendency toward destruction, toward ruin, and what is Yuqi if not a gorgeous masterpiece begging for someone, anyone to be just a little destructive and ruinous. She flinches every time it hits her, pumping her fingers around your cock again until a rope of creamy white flies right into her pink hair. 
We’re fine, is what you tell Miyeon, huffing and repeating yourself: “We’re fine, I’ll catch you later.”
Miyeon crosses her arms, and that’s when it becomes a little clearer. The juxtaposition here is striking and immediate: black heels, black leggings, pencil skirt, prim and pressed white-collared shirt, the cute little suit jacket that fits barely over her dainty shoulders—she’s dressed head to toe in business casual like she’s about to put in eight hours hole-punching or making copies or writing emails and it’s so effortlessly sexy that the only thing that could possibly distract you from it—
“He’ll be fine,” Yuqi says, not even chagrined in the slightest that she’s fucking covered in cum. You watch her stand up, wipe her eyelashes free of mess with the back of her forearm, and start leading you to the window with her wrist still flexing out tiny motions around your cock. “I’ll make sure of it.” 
“Just a reminder,” Miyeon shouts, even-pitch and tone slightly indignant, which makes a lot of sense. “You promised you’d sit in for my line reads.”
“And I will.” 
It’s almost idiotic—here you are, the expert in the room, a professional in spinning ludicrous little lies, purveyor of fantasy and fiction and fuck if it’s not obvious that you’re planning on fucking Yuqi’s pretty little cunt until you’re both forgetting how to function. Miyeon reads that from across the room. From where the stench of sex is so heavy it’s probably hitting her too.
“Oh relax princess,” Yuqi says to her, and her lips slant to something more mischievous. Her shoulders are slumped back against the pane of glass and she’s rubbing the head of your cock through the soaked folds of her pussy. Neither of you are in search of ideas, for inspiration. Want for nothing. You’ll fucking ruin this little cunt—get me screaming and so addled I can’t speak straight, Yuqi’s telling you with just the corner of her mouth, curling. 
You grab hold of Yuqi, grappling with her for a moment before you spin her around in your hands—until her tits are plastered onto the window. It’s a show of force, a drill in shock and awe admittedly, but also you’ve got two perfect rows of bite marks above your collarbone. Honest to god, a full dental record, right in your shoulder. You sense the inspiration in it. Yuqi fucks like there’s inspiration in it, like she’s trying to kill you, in a way, but you’re paid for maintaining an image just a tad more wholesome than that. Ideally with a little less blood where a camera could catch it.
“Jesus christ,” Miyeon says, tapping away at her phone. “You guys are gross.”
“He promised. Didn’t he?” Yuqi mutters against the pane, the condensation in her breath fogging immediately. If that isn’t a perfect preview of what you’ll do to her. Perfectly premeditated by the way she fucking keens when you slip back inside her tight cunt. And Miyeon is very unimpressed with all of it: “Yeah okay, whatever, I don’t care, stay hydrated or something. I’m going to wait downstairs.”
“Told you,” Yuqi purrs, grinning all over you, in the breadth of quiet that the door leaves slamming shut behind Miyeon—stage exit, fade to black; you know that sometimes the magic of film isn’t what’s shown on camera, but rather what isn’t. 
“Told me what?” you ask, still enthralled by how Yuqi is so small underneath you, how when you’re both reaching for control, you don’t really even care if she beats you to the draw.
She gets jealous, Yuqi’s trying to explain, in between the sounds of you fucking her open and raw. You hesitate. Like you haven’t always had that effect on people, blossomed into blessing, complexed into curse. You reach your hand up Yuqi’s ribs, her chest, around her throat, and let your words bite at her ear: “oh, I think you will too.”
-
“I get hate mail,” you tell Miyeon. You’re on set the following week, ducking out of the path of a mic boom that is swinging way too fucking low, and there’s this story trending that heavily suggests you and Miyeon are knocking boots and it has a few disheartened fans absolutely outraged. “Like physical hate mail, in envelopes and stamped and everything.”
“It’s because of the stubble,” she says, rubbing a finger under your jaw. The girl in charge of costuming is adamant that beard prosthetics are lazy and cheap and you are neither. Even if you need it for only one scene. “It makes you look…”
“Uncouth?”
“Rakish,” she says, blinking. And as an afterthought: “Like, of all your thoughts, the one you have of pulling my shirt up and kissing at my tits until they’re sore is somehow the least vulgar.” 
Her shoulders pull up into the slightest shrug. “I mean I’m into it,” she adds.
“That’s not fair,” you tell her, “I’m not considering anything like that.”
Miyeon pulls you aside and up one of set’s staircases to nowhere, fingers warm at the crook of your elbow, and says, “well, it’s all I can fucking think about.”
-
Take a second for some personal reflection: you’ve never really tried to make a habit of anything and at the same time been successful. When it happens, it just kind of happens. We are what we repeatedly do.
In a way, it all started in public, this thing between you and Miyeon. Your roots are here, out with the blurs of passing people, daring to be seen, to be recognized, to be identified. You had long thought—and think, you do, particularly when doing the unthinkable—that a girl like Miyeon would steer away from the prospect; fucking you instead in private, comfort realized in the security of drawn curtains and shuttered blinds. A stark contrast to the part of your lives lived out in the open, subject to scrutiny and skepticism, unguarded from microscopic observation.
She only has everything to lose, you understand. And you aren’t more than a few paces behind her either. Reckless, she’s muttering while you sink to your knees and get your fingers up her skirt, so reckless—like this whole thing isn’t her idea.
The crazy part about all this that you actually do get caught. Not just one time either. 
You’ll bring it up in discussion with Soyeon later, when you run into her at the movie’s premier event and you’ve realized the value of having a good confidant:
“I literally told you one thing,” she’ll say, hands on her hips and looking like the mother that has to call the school, has to call the parent of the window you’d shattered with a baseball. It’ll all be highly disappointing. You are unbelievable—is what she won’t be able to say, even though she’ll really, really want to—I told you not to sleep with Miyeon and you slept with Miyeon why would you sleep with Miyeon you absolute moron.
-
There’s the time on set: in a fucking storage closet of all places. You’ve got Miyeon laid back on a table, fucking her slowly. Her panties are in her mouth, and the toes of her foot are curling against your cheek. It starts with a kiss, which most people might consider poetic, just your lips against a heel, the narrow bend of her arch to where she’s got her delicate toes perfectly colored in pastel white; Miyeon’s too cock-addled to do anything like comment on the fact you take them between your lips, slowly, and again, sucking, kissing her feet until she laughs at the way it tickles.
“Oh my god,” a voice says. One of the production assistants. “Oh my god, I’m so, so sorry.”
-
There’s the time in the woods near where you’re shooting a few of the outdoor scenes. You’re stepping out of a tall brush, and Miyeon’s cheeks are so red, glistening in sweat and cum and there’s a technician running an extension cord to god knows where to hook up more lights to the rigging.
“Um,” he says, just staring and unwinding more cord.
“We were looking for her earring,” you tell him.
“In the fucking woods?” He laughs out loud, just this self-amused grunt of a laugh. “Did you find it?”
You actually can’t look him in the eye, and Miyeon is just standing there, mortified. Your forehead creases a puzzled line and you say, with absolute conviction: yes.
-
“Jesus christ, Miyeon.” You swivel on your stool in your dressing room. Think possibly to kneel, but you know what might happen if she sees you on your knees, supplicating.
Let the record show, you and Miyeon are on day six of your self-imposed moratorium—the ban that prohibits the two of you fucking eachother at work, so it’s not like it’s the fastest capitulation in the world either.
Miyeon does a spin, pleated hem of a navy blue plaid skirt flaring out to the sides—how do I look?
There are answers in your throat, no doubt—like sin, like fantasy, like a submissive, fuckable fantasy. Like it should be illegal.
“Uh—I mean,” you nearly stammer, massaging your thumb into your temple. It’s certainly not natural for you to be here, on the back foot, and it has Miyeon’s mouth slanting into a predictable smirk. In an almost inexcusably banal act, she puts a fingernail to her teeth and shimmies her waist so that you’re lost to the moment, tracking how the skirt’s fabric ruffles between her legs.
Is it the fact that some maniac in costume has gone and put her in a school uniform?
Yes. 
That's a great deal of what’s going on here, which is a whole fucking lot. Is it the way her shoulders vanish in a tailored blazer with a nostalgia-inducing insignia above the breast pocket—her fingers poking out from the cuffs and toying at the lapels? Is it that the dress shirt beneath it is made of the cheapest cotton one could find (because the thing doesn’t really need to hold up over multiple washes) so you can see how her stomach flattens, that gentle rise in her chest, the sharp angle of her collarbones, all when the light catches it just right? There’s the stockings, dress shoes, a fucking ribbon in her hair and you’re ignoring the fact that the tie around her neck is a little loose and you might be able spin it over her shoulders and tighten your grip and—
“Cute, right?” She skips across the room and perches on your knee. Really selling it.
“I’m curious,” you say, looking for a narrow gap, something to stow away into, something that might take your mind off the fact that when you look at Miyeon, you’re transposing and overlaying images of an eleventh grade crush, and that’s not a mood you were prepared to be whipped into at just the flash of blue plaid and a charcoal blazer. “When was the last time you wore a ribbon in your hair?” 
“Oh gosh.” One corner of Miyeon’s mouth frowns, ruminating. She hovers her hand up to her ponytail, twisting it gently until it bounces back into place. “It’s been such a long time actually, I don’t know, seventeen, eighteen years old?”
Okay, that’s certainly not helping. A more direct approach, perhaps: “what are you doing, Miyeon?”
“Oh,” she says, nonchalant, because isn’t it obvious, “I’m here to get fucked.”
This is trouble, and among other things, a perversion, you think, but your mouth is too dry to say any of that, and Miyeon leans in and places her fingers beneath your jaw. Tilts your chin and presses her lips to yours, gentle, feather-light.
One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. Three one-thousand. Four one-thousand.
Shifting slightly, the inside of Miyeon’s thigh presses to the outside of yours, only ever the slightest movement, and it has you sighing into her mouth. It’s impossible to decide whether you ought admire her confidence or find fault with her gall. She’s a delightful lapful—and a handful, and a mouthful—so you’ll flirt with danger, abandon those last vestiges of inhibition, and lean into the former rather than the latter.
Miyeon’s breath lands against your lips, hitching as the kiss breaks.
“Look,” you say, lip smacking back into place when she finally lets it free. There’s a response, bubbling up from your gut, because on one hand, this is the exact kind of impropriety you were hoping to avoid. And on the other, well, nothing ventured, nothing lost—you suppose. Your eyes are flicking to the top buttons of her shirt, collar agape and that gentle invitation of cleavage snuck behind it.
“Oh my god,” Miyeon says, inches from your face, and she starts to laugh. “You have grays in your beard.”
“No there aren’t.”
“I’m serious.” She wraps her hand around your cheeks, and twists your face to the vanity mirror, like it’d be helpful. “Look,” she says, twice, pulling her lip between her teeth and staring at your reflection.
“Those are stress grays,” you amend, before turning back and shifting her weight more comfortably into your lap, soft thighs straddling yours. “Just to be clear, I’m barely any older than you are.”
“Older,” she says, smiling.
“Don’t have to dwell on it.”
“I mean there’s a silver lining to that though.” Miyeon’s fingers are spread across your face, thumbs gently rubbing into your cheekbones. She’s close enough for you to forget her manager is going to come looking for her at some point or another. “Just means I can call you daddy, and it won’t be weird.”
“Uh.”
“You know,” she adds, sliding her fingers over your ears and pressing a kiss into your jaw, “while we’re doing it.”
“No, I understood that part.” You give her another once over and firm your hands on her waist to stop her from grinding her hips any further into yours. “I’m not sure it’s age that potentially makes it weird.”
“Come on,” she says, letting her voice slip into that slightly deepened register that suggests not only will she disobey you, but you’ll love every second of it. “I know you love to play with me.”
“It’s not a trick question. What are you asking for here, Miyeon?”
“Sex,” she says.
“Yes,” you answer, blinking back at her, expression skeptical. “I was there for that part of the conversation. It was about sixty seconds ago, if I recall.”
She lifts your chin, looks straight in your eyes, and asks, “and?”
“I’m just trying to puzzle out what you're telling me.” You slide your fingertips past the waist of her skirt and onto her ass. The quiet hum of satisfaction in Miyeon’s throat says you’re getting warmer. “What it is you want.”
“Any ideas?” she presses again, the lilt in her voice filling you with hundreds—the countenance behind it providing even more. Her hips grind into you further, bucking toward your waist and silencing the anxious distance between you.
“Do you want me to touch you?” Your hand snakes around the curve of Miyeon’s ass, down to where her underwear feels hot and unmistakably damp, where you can feel the shape of her lips through the fabric and the heat smoldering between them. There’s a tiny wanton whine from her throat when you circle your fingers; a sharp draw of air past her teeth when you apply a little more pressure. “Want my fingers inside of you? Hmm?”
Miyeon nods almost immediately.
You kiss her. Slide your mouth over her lips and recognize the strawberry in her lip gloss and hold onto your exhale, breathing the same air. Her eyes open first, lashes brushing yours. “You want me to fuck you, Miyeon.”
“Want you to tell me what to do,” she says, and without even running the word experimentally around her mouth, without testing its taste or the way it feels on her tongue, she fixes her dark brilliant eyes on you, saying, “want daddy to tell me what to do.”
You’ve got all this about nature and nurture running amuck in your head to the backdrop of the sound of a large cable snapping. It’s dangerous. It’s not like you, you’re not the type, you’re telling yourself, and a lot of other rubbish that isn’t concerned by the fact that Miyeon’s here, fucking dressed like this, ponytail bobbing, ribbon in her hair begging to come undone—
Lock the door, you say to her, and she does. Turn around. Take your jacket off, and she pauses first, before twisting her arms from the sleeves and folding it neatly over the back of a chair. You’ve got a hand outstretched as she walks toward you; your panties, hand them over, and she reaches down beneath her skirt, rolling her underwear down her smooth thighs, her calves, eyes never once leaving yours—watching you watch her. 
Sit.
Touch yourself. 
Slowly; slower—
It’s almost ridiculous. You’ve hardly even laid a hand on her, and she’s got her eyes looking up at you like you’d just set all her biological clocks an hour forward, cranked up to ten-minutes-to-midnight, and replaced all her coherent thoughts with just one simple thing: how bad she needs you to cum in her cunt.
She’s settled at the front of the vanity counter, feet against your chest, head tilting back against the mirror, and she’s gently slapping her own pussy with the pads of her fingers, covered and wet in her own anticipation. Your hands are nothing like hers—these slender, delicate things—and it’s driving her up the wall. You’re spreading her thighs, opening her up, bringing the roughness in your fingers, the heel of your palm so close. Miyeon can’t help it.
“You’re such a slut,” you tell her, watching her shove one, two fingers past the glistening lips her pussy—biting back a laugh as she starts to fuck herself slowly for you. “And already this fucking wet.”
Miyeon just smiles, eyes hooded and looking at you with such perfectly sinful intent. “I thought that’s how daddy likes his little girl.”
(Don’t get it confused: it’s never been a challenge to play a character, to be someone you are not, to emotionally identify and aspire to the details of a part. But this is different. This is seamless. This is you leaning into that space, living in it, loving it. A physical part of you. Genuine and true.)
You grapple Miyeon’s wrist, pulling her hand away from the want of her pussy, denying her all of that friction. She whines, but puts up little to no fuss when you bring her hand to her face and clear your voice of anything that doesn’t inspire authority—deliver an order, sternly, with her fingers in her mouth, suck.
“Here’s a lesson.” You click your tongue as she closes her eyes and sets her jaw in motion to clean her own slick off her nails, her knuckles. “The only thing that goes in my princess’s cunt, is daddy’s cock.”
“In that case,” Miyeon says around her fingers still between her lips, a smile spreading across all of her perfected features—voice lilting, reeling you in, sinking its teeth into your skin: I think daddy’s going to have to punish me.
Oh, you’re one step ahead of her, thinking of all the ways how, and the sound of your zipper coming undone makes Miyeon's eyes go wide with want, with need. Her petite, perfect, fuckable body still locked away behind fabric, she starts hiking her skirt even higher up her hips, lazily unfastening the buttons of her shirt. 
You tell her to put her feet together, wrapping a grip onto her stockings and pulling her legs closed—twisting them to the side and letting her heels clack together over your shoulder. The gentle motion of your thumb between her thighs gets her sucking a sharp draw of air. Always so vocal Miyeon is at the slightest provocation.
Your cock is harder than it’s ever, ever been; harder yet as you tease it at the folds of Miyeon’s entrance, pushing it against sensitive skin and earning you pleased little chirrups from deep in her chest, repeating, “yes, yes, yes—”
She’s only halfway down the buttons on her shirt, collar gaping open and lolling to the sides of her soft shoulders, sliding partway downway her arms, and then it’s that fucking tie still loosely hanging around her neck—so impossibly irresistable. The motion is practiced, near effortless: you slip right into the tight embrace of her creaming cunt. When she makes it through the length of a heavy breath through pursed lips, you sink even in further.
“Oh, this pussy is fucking incredible,” you sputter, voice come to reckon with the fucking bind that is Miyeon’s body, coiling beneath your weight the deeper you cock reaches inside her. “I don’t know that I could ever punish you. Maybe I should just spoil you, princess; get on my knees and make you cum on my mouth instead—”
“No.”
“What was that?” you coax, fucking into her cunt slowly, and your little girl growls at you. You can’t help but chuckle, making a tight grasp of the tie around her neck, and start to twist. 
Miyeon’s flushed all over, eyes glassy, but emblazoned still, a spark of defiance in those deep shimmering pools that makes her all the more alluring. Her lashes flutter—whole body tensing in response—as your thighs crash into her, cock deep inside the tight grip of her cunt.
She feels amazing.
“Yes, please,” she tells you, huffing out the words and changing her tune as you begin to let her have you, let her revel in the determined rhythm of you fucking her like she’s come to expect. “God, yes, daddy please…”
It’s so easy to fuck Miyeon—muscle memory and learned behavior—so easy to sink your fingers into her ass, her thighs, her tits, wrap your arms around her waist and start fucking her so quickly it has her pussy so wet it’s not even slowing you down in the slightest when you pull harder on the tie around her neck, draw her writhing body into you, and start to use her.
“You’re fucking, god, you’re fucking tearing me open,” she tells you with her brows sinking over eyes screwed shut, “it feels so fucking good—tell me, do you like fucking me? Do you like fucking your little slut?
“Fucking love it,” you whisper against her ear.
It doesn’t even cross your mind for a second, whether she wanted to be fucked like this, wanted to be used and choked and pounded so hard her legs buckled and her muscles ached and she could barely remember her own name—she landed in your lap, flirted with this danger, both of you immediately aware of what all it entailed. 
Miyeon didn’t just invite it, the girl fucking craves it.
Just like this, she’s muttering, voice barely rasping into anything audible under the weight of your grip, fuck your little slut just like this—bathing your cock in the delicious cream and slick of her pussy so that you might fuck it all back into her. When she starts moving like this, body shaking in quakes and quivers, voice woven into her mewls and moans, you know she’s so fucking close, only in want of a little encouragement—
“There you go, good girl,” you breathe against her lips, kissing them abruptly, before letting her weight fall back to the vanity counter with just the slightest release of the tie in your fist. “Cum for me, princess, I know you want to—know you want to cum all over daddy’s cock. You’re practically sobbing for me, baby. Go ahead, just cum.”
Sheltered somewhere in quiet of those sloppy, wet, lewd sounds, the score of your cock sliding in and out of Miyeon, is the strangled cry that sneaks out of her throat, gasping: “cumming, I’m fucking cumming, please, I—god.”
Accentuated by the fact that her arms are still halfway trapped in the cotton of her shirt, she can’t do a thing from underneath you. She’s near trapped under the weight, the sheer tempo of at which you’re ruining her cunt. You’re ripping your name in moans and prayers off her lips and she can hardly move beyond that slight squirm in your arms, writhe in the way you mold her to you, overcome in pleasure at how she’s left so full, perfectly remade to the shape of your cock.
Her fingers are splayed across your ribs, holding you, bracing against you, and none of it’s anything you haven’t told her before—so pretty, take it so well, your cunt’s perfect, you’re perfect, so good sweetheart—but in aggregate, taking the length your cock, taking all of you, she shatters apart.
Your hands are on her cheeks, thumbing strands of tousled hair ever-so-gently back into place, and you’re feeling the way her skin burns bright red, feeling the way she gasps for air in shallow pants, feeling her cunt clench hard around you. It’s the moments like these, where she’s delicate to touch, soothed only by your lips pressed to the tip of her nose, her forehead—finding comfort in the arm she swings over your shoulders—she’s so wildly beautiful. 
“So fucking—” She lets her voice even out, and after multiple attempts, gets the words she wants in the right order: “so good, how do—so fucking good baby, how do you want? Cum. How do you want to cum?”
“Could fucking paint your pretty face,” you tell her, moving your hips back to life and fucking into her soaked, messy cunt slowly. The way you push a kiss into her soft lips—now wet and slightly swollen from how she’d been biting them—is a little at odds with the suggestion.
“Ha. I think I get it,” Miyeon starts, the shy smile filling her mouth taking over the shape of her ragged huffs and pants, “we throw daddy around a few times, and suddenly you’re afraid to cum inside me, is that it?”
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s not it at all.” The fact that she’s recovered an ounce of resolve, chip steadily reappearing on her shoulder, is nothing more than a facade, and you’re drawing back the curtain, finding her body still wracked, plenty malleable, puddied and easy to manipulate with a firm grip around her waist. “Let me show you.”
“And just what is it that I’m—” 
Miyeon’s voice breaks almost immediately as you turn her over in your hands. Her knuckles hit the vanity counter and her legs wobble where they land precariously on the floor. She’s so wet and well-fucked that the mess you’d made of her cunt is effortless to slip back into. You allow her more, pushing in as deep as you’ll go, faster than she can blink, faster she can think to protest. It’s the angle that makes her back arch with surprised, sudden pleasure. The depth that makes her eyes shut tight, a gasp not quite making it past her lips. 
Watch.
She can see it all, in the perimeter of fluorescent bulbs, reflection staring back at her. The way her porcelain skin lights aflame. There’s sweat beading across her forehead, blonde hair darkening at its roots. Her lips are parted slightly, tender swell cushioning the bite of her teeth—her eyes are hooded, chin tilting, and she’s watching herself moan and curse as you start to fuck her. She’s perfect, and she knows she’s perfect.
You pull her skirt forward over the round of her ass, fingers sunk into the soft skin, and fuck her harder, until the counter is shaking with it, until she’s crying out, any concept of shame or embarrassment long forgotten. 
“Oh, please,” she starts, settling into your cadence, feeling delighted at the way you fill her.
Her fingers are white-knuckled as she clings to the edge of the counter, and in between breathless little noises, these sharp gasps and whines or another, between the unyielding motions of your cock in her cunt, she writhes.
“Please, please, please, please make me cum again,” she barely manages, blathering and stuttering over her own words. “Please use this little cunt, fucking use me, fuck me, fill me—”
“Anything for my princess,” you say, and after pressing a long row of kisses into the curve of her spine—a heavy kiss of your lips into the sharp edge of her shoulder—you bring a hand to the back of her neck, the slippery-smooth locks of hair already bundled and begging for your fist, becoming your grip.
“Oh my god,” Miyeon mutters, watching her body bend to your will, arching backward into your cock and becoming flush all over. Her eyes flick up to yours, begging you to fill her deeper, fuck her faster, fuck her harder. “Daddy please…”
The way her cunt sleeves onto your cock is so hot, so wet, so unbelievably tight, especially when the fingers woven in her hair flex taut—and so does she—how could you ever think to do anything but?
You pull harder on her hair, tension building in the curving bow of her body, arching further and further into submission. Her face is close enough for you to kiss, to lean into her ear, to whisper, “Miyeon, baby, I’m going to make you cum again. Gonna make you cum all over my cock. Be a good girl for me and take it.”
Miyeon’s voice is flooded, drenched and soaked in meek cries. More so by the minute. She’s whining and gasping and fighting for air like she hasn’t been coached a thousand times on how to keep a clean image. Beyond the curses and filth, the nonsensical string of obscenities falling off Miyeon’s lips, it’s gratitude: “thank you, thank you, thank you, please keep fucking me, please just use me—”
It’s obscene, filthy, it’s practically pornographic–-all framed for her to see. Miyeon’s costume is still barely clinging to her tiny frame, coming off in pieces. And you’re sliding your hand across her smooth stomach, up her ribs and hooking fingers between the cups of her bra, until it comes down far enough around her waist that it simply unclasps and falls to the floor. Every time bring your hips forward, fuck your cock harder into her cunt, you track the movement of her body in the mirror: shoulders lurching, mouth gasping, tits shaking—Miyeon recoiling. 
Even the ribbon in her hair can’t stand against the intensity of it, untangling from her ponytail and falling to the counter, defeated.
Beauty is a picture in motion, and Miyeon is nothing if not elegant. You slow your pace to admire her, hands at her breasts, her waist, still holding firm around her hair and curling her body into your control. She whines louder when you kiss her temple, rasping against the sweat building in her hair. “Make yourself cum for me baby, fuck your little cunt on my cock until you cum again.”
“God,” Miyeon rasps, nodding slightly against you with her eyes carefully fixed on her reflection, and she starts to roll her hips—fucking herself and choking back a whimper every time she finds where it’s mind-numbingly sensitive, where she’s wet and needy and begging for the hard shape of your cock. It’s unbelievable how desperate she ruts against you, grinding her way to her own release.
“Such a good girl for me.” You’re reaching a hand down to her cunt, the hot mess between her legs, and you’re slipping your fingers around where your cock is inside her, skating your thumb across her aching lips, barely touching her clit—
“I’m gonna cum,” she moans out, breathless, “you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”
A final kiss at the hot skin beside her temple, your nose in her hair—drowning in the sweet stench of her sweat, her sex—you’re telling her, “I know I am princess,” and when you release the grip you’ve made of her hair, Miyeon collapses, palms flat over the countertop.
It’s hard to miss, all written on Miyeon’s reflection in front of you, cheeks exquisitely red, lips slacking as she cums, brows twisting together and eyes heavily lidded—and that’s just what you can see. You fuck her quivering cunt, thrusts coaxed into this reckless chase as she spasms around you—holding tight to her waist, fucking her faster and faster until your cock is aching and you’re hunched over her, telling her what she’s been dying to hear: “I'm so close to cumming in your cunt sweetheart, you'll be so filled up and perfect that way, princess.”
There’s no mistaking it. Pleasure palpable in the reflection in front of you, eyes smoldering and holding onto you. The hold she has on your cock, the vice that is her cunt around you—it shouldn’t even be possible to feel this fucking amazing—is far and away too good for you to do anything else: you grab her hips, fuck hard and fast into Miyeon’s sopping cunt, and on a thrust deep and unrelenting, you let go. You can barely even register the way your cock pulsates, firing shot after shot into her tight hole.
Miyeon’s still stuttering and gasping for breath when she feels your cum pool inside her. Even like this, wracked, writhing, and barely held together, she’s breathtaking.
“God, fuck, it’s so good,” she cries out, face still spun in pleasure, in ecstasy, feeling you spill more and more inside her. “Can feel you cumming so much, daddy.”
And that’s how you stay, pouring want and jittery contentment into the air by way of your ragged breathing alone, for the remainder of the minute, the hour, what ultimately ends up feeling far too short. 
Her knees buckle and if you weren’t still pressing bruises into her hips, she’d sink to the floor, a hot mess, a real meltdown of a girl. So she remains right where she is as you soften slowly inside of her, until she has to nudge you off. And as you finally pull out, there’s cum still leaking from your slit, and you catch a glimpse of more leaking out from between her soft, reddened thighs, just a few drops that land on the floor, enough to make something inside you tighten with want.
You kiss her one last time, and say, “c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”
-
“You need to come up with a better excuse than I needed to get fucked for when you show up like you are to costume,” you say a few minutes later, dabbing at Miyeon’s forehead with a handtowel. “They won’t be too thrilled with me messing up their handiwork.”
Miyeon leans forward in your lap, reaching around your shoulders and placing kisses into the broad shape of your shoulder. “I love the way you mess me up.”
You almost open your mouth again, to lodge a complaint, but nothing comes out.
(You’ve long avoided looking backward, the introspective stuff, the kind of thinking that makes your heart begin to ache in all sorts and manners of cliche. It’s difficult to look straight at the image, to take it in all at once—so full of regret and missed chances.
But for the first time in as long as you can remember, you believe in the things you’re afraid to say. As though you’re more than the weight of all your memories, that the darkness can remind you of where light can be. This is not the end of you, you remember, this is the beginning.
As though you fell so you could land next to her.)
-
It hits you in the middle of a workday. Nothing cathartic or dramatic about it like you’ve come to expect. Dramatic lighting, theatrical score, the meticulous scripting from a team of writers—there’s none of that; which is how you know it’s real.
Miyeon’s watching herself on the monitor. 
And there’s a part of it, you’ve come to understand, that never quite goes away, like listening to how your voice plays back on a recording, the uncertainty, those pangs of doubt—but you wonder, if perhaps, Miyeon can manage to enthrall and captivate even the greatest cynic, quiet her own insecurities and enchant even herself. She nods every now and again, wets her lips with her tongue when she hears her delivery, and furrows her brow. 
It’s not like that.
The sort of girl whose kisses can spin straw to gold—taste of liquor when she’s not even had any to drink—Cassis, juniper berries, gumdrops, sugar cane and molasses, all soft and steamy and sugary sweet. Quote, unquote. That’s what you said.
Don’t—
Please look at me when I tell you I love you. Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed, you will never be lovelier than you are now, we will never be here again.
The whole studio is watching it: the triumph of your lips on hers, holding her softly and kissing her like if you closed your fingers she might shatter into a million pieces. All they did was hold the camera, and it saw what it saw.
Miyeon looks at you, rubs your knuckles with her thumb and says, “you don’t like it.”
Something’s off.
“You think we need one more take?”
(It doesn’t really make sense—the fact that you can’t put a finger on it is bothering you more than anything else. It’s clean, perfect even; smells like a swimming pool: a bleached sea salt, a flower with chemical petals; and not in a good way. Looked at from another perspective, the scene is just as it’s written, as it was rehearsed, but you’re hesitating. And you don’t know why.)
“You think we need one more,” Miyeon says again, inquisitive.
You make a face, and Miyeon squeezes your fingers.
“Yeah. Okay. You think we need one more.”
“I suppose,” you say mildly, “if it’s not too much of a hassle.”
It’s not as simple as that. At least the way you see it. It rarely is. A better guy could probably recognize what it is you’re feeling and put it into words, but you are not a better guy. Spend too much time living on the words of characters and in the confines of a scene, you start to lose sense of the bigger picture. There’s you—outside of the frame, strangely unfamiliar at times, unknowable right now. There’s Miyeon, and she’s not just gorgeous and perfect like everyone knows her to be; she’s gorgeous and perfect to you.
“Here’s what I think,” Miyeon starts, staring straight through you, a pulsing rush of longing—the whisper, irresistible, magic that could make the sanest man go mad. You just want to hear me say I love you one more time.
Everyone’s eyes are glued to the monitors, witness to the story that is you and her, but you’re looking at Miyeon, directly at her, for once not even lost in the details—simply lost in everything, like a stone down a well. It does scare you. That of all things, she might be right.
-
The incident, as it will later be known, is more realistically a sequence of events, but no one has ever been interested in anything other than how it ends. 
(It's always the changes we don’t ask for that change everything.)
There are just a handful of scenes and shots that need to be filmed on location on an island in the Maldives, one that is just about everything you’ve grown to resent. Garishly extravagant resort, beaches of white sand so combed and manicured they yearn to be trampled, and the only locals in sight are either changing sheets or caked up in makeup and hanging around the hotel bar from the twilight hours of the evening and into the early morning. A real lovely place, you admit, maybe you’ll come back never.
It’s as if the universe cashes in on your bad karma all at once via the series of unfortunate events: your flight’s delayed, a storm turns a three hour layover into a two day nightmare, your bags get lost. And the moment you step onto the tarmac, the heat punches you right in the gut, and upon curling over in defeat, the humidity figures it’ll kick you right in the head—this all, by the way, before you find out the air conditioning in your room is fucked beyond repair and the hotel staff have no interest in helping you fix it.
When a series of mistakes has you shooting a scene over and over until you’re pretty sure it’s fruitless—that the exhaustion has brought you to your knees—you quickly find yourself starting to slip.
Miyeon’s standing next to the director, watching the scene playback, and hearing her say, “that’s better,” while everything that could ever go wrong in the history of linear time is happening is the best part of this whole debacle, if anything, for its raw comedic value.
The absolute worst of it, however, is the gaggle of bumbling entertainment journalists (the lowest of the low) following in the production’s wake. There’s a lot a ground to cover: the movie’s nearing completion, the premieres, the fact that everyone thinks you’re screwing Miyeon, the fact that you actually are—
How has working with your co-stars, Miyeon in particular, bettered your understanding of what it means to be an actor? The insinuation, if it’s even an undertone enough to call it that, you do find insulting.
Though it’s hardly the question that trips you up. It’s trifling. And when you force a smile, everyone takes your pandering at face value. Now whether it’s out of envy, confusion, plain old cynicism, possibly a mixture of the three, or just because the part of your brain associated with temperance and self control is melting at the current head index of a million and two, is unclear.
But you fuck up.
It’s under your breath, out of the corner of your mouth. It’s not even directed at anyone in particular. The challenge here—the thing that will come to ruin you in about one media cycle—is that the damn microphone clipped to your shirt is still absolutely live, and it’s broadcasting every thought that should stay quiet:
Acting? From Miyeon? Hah. Swallowing cum maybe… but acting?
You fuck up bad.
1K notes · View notes
h1keyready · 8 months
Note
Assuming miyeon is a pillow princess and she proves you wrong
♡ (G)I-DLE MIYEON x afab!reader ♡ smut: breast play, fingering (reader receiving)
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"Did my precious pillow princess enjoy herself?" You press a kiss to Miyeon's lips, your mouth still tainted with her fluids.
Your question is innocent enough, you really hope you succeeded in making her feel good. However, what comes as a reply is a glare and a slightly offended whine, "I'm not a pillow princess!"
This comes as a surprise to you because even though you haven't had sex many times yet, Miyeon seemed like the type to just lay back and expect you to do all the work.
"Oh?" you question, not quite believing her.
On the other hand, Miyeon's eyes turn determined and the next moment, you feel your positions shift and your back hits the mattress. Her hands have your wrists pinned next to your head and her knee is between your legs, pressing against your core.
You stare up at her with wide eyes and she flashes you a grin that promises no good. "I think it's my turn now."
You only have time to gulp before her lips are on your neck, leaving messy kisses all the way down to the spot between your breasts. Her mouth leaves your skin here, only to hover over one of your boobs and lick at your nipple. A shiver is immediate and you find yourself moaning as her tongue keeps teasing you.
"Miyeon," you sigh her name when her lips wrap around your sensitive bud and she starts sucking on it. She only hums as a reply and keeps working her mouth and tongue on you.
It's an involuntary reaction when your hips start bucking against her tigh pressed between yours, and you only get more desperate as she moves on to treat your other side with just as much attention and care. You find yourself grinding against her thigh and moaning while she licks and sucks on your breasts, feeling like all your assumptions about her were completely wrong.
"Do you want to cum now, baby?" Her question sounds like a heavenly offer, and your voice comes out as a weak whine when you reply, "Yes… please, yes."
Miyeon smiles down at you and releases your hands, though at this point, you don't have any mind to use them. Her fingers easily slip inside your hole and it only takes a few thrusts for you to clench around them and come undone.
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155 notes · View notes
mi-rae07 · 11 months
Note
can I request a mafia mingi x pregnant s/o angst :3 mingi breaks up with the reader bcs he thought she was a burden with his mafia life but he doesn’t know that she’s pregnant. Hurt me with all the angst you’ve got! but with a happy ending i beg TT
Song Mingi : Chance (Part 1/3)
Pairing : Song Mingi (Ateez) and named character (Jung Miyeon)
_____________________
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Miyeon : doctor, are you sure? There's no other-
Doctor : I'm sure, miss lee. You are three weeks pregnant, with twins.
______________________
Mingi : and? Did you check the bodies properly? There was no trace left behind at all?
Jongho : none, sir. It seems as if they were all killed in one go.
Mingi : then that means there was more than just one assassin.
Jongho nodded, looking at the gruesome pictures that had been laid on mingi's desk. He was just about to say something when the door opened, revealing mingi's mother. Jongho quickly bowed down, mingi letting out a breath as he stood up and said
Mingi : eomma, I'm quite busy-
Jina : I know, I came to talk important matters with you, son.
Mingi : one that cannot be discussed at my house?
Jina : yes.
Mingi nodded and motioned jongho to step out, jongho bowing one last time before leaving the both of them alone. Mingi watched as his mother sat on the seat opposite him, a grim look on her face.
Mingi : what is it?
Jina : your father is very ill, son.
Mingi : I know that.
Jina : no, this is worse than before. Doctors say he has only another two-three more months to live.
Mingi sighed, leaning back against his chair. He was never a fan of his father, given the conditions he was brought up in. but he was still mingi's father.
Mingi : what is his last wish then, eomma.
Jina : he wishes to get you married.
Mingi : he seriously wants me to get married to miyeon-
Jina : no, not her. Another lady, a better one.
Mingi : eomma, what the hell?
Jina : I always told you this wasn't going to last, mingi. I always told you your father would want something in return for handing over this company to you.
Mingi : isn't what he's taken from me already enough?
Jina : apparently not. And son, I've seen miyeon, I've talked to her. She isn't fit for this lifestyle of yours. One day she's gonna want you to leave this field of work and you know that isn't possible. This is our-
Mingi : family line, I know.
Jina sighed, leaning forward as she said
Jina : I know you love her, but you must let her go if you truly care for her, son. You know what your father can do even if he's in the hospital. If you don't let her go, he's going to do it for you. And it will not be in a good way.
Mingi let out a breath, muttering under his breath
Mingi : get out.
Jina nodded, getting up from her seat as she said
Jina : remember what I said, son. Make sure you won't regret your decisions in the future.
Jina turned around and left, leaving a disturbed mingi behind.
__________________________
Miyeon looked up as she heard footsteps coming her way, indicating that mingi was home. She smiled and stood up, keeping her phone away as she opened her arms for mingi. He smiled, keeping his bag away before wrapping his arms around miyeon.
Miyeon : had a bad day at work?
Mingi : mm, something like that. And you?
Miyeon : it went as work always does.
Mingi hummed, nuzzling his head onto her shoulders. Miyeon bit her lip, deciding she should probably ask him what she had meant to.
Miyeon : do you ever think you'll resign your position as a mafia, mingi-ya?
Mingi stiffened in her hold, his eyes now open as he pulled back from the hug with a frown
Mingi : what?
Miyeon : you know, since it's a dangerous line of work, one day when we have children, do you think you'll give up your work and choose to do something less dangerous?
Mingi stared at miyeon as his mother's earlier words rang through his mind
"And son, I've seen miyeon, I've talked to her. She isn't fit for this lifestyle of yours. One day she's gonna want you to leave this field of work and you know that isn't possible"
His mother was right, and miyeon had already started asking.
Mingi : you know I do not really want children, yeon-ah.
Miyeon blinked her eyes, her hands clenching around mingi's shirt. Oh no, she thought.
Miyeon : like…ever?
Mingi : miyeon, what is with you. You've never asked questions like this before, why are you so suddenly interested in children?
Miyeon : no I'm just…asking for future purposes-
Mingi : no, then don't. because there will be no future for us with children. I do not want any.
Before miyeon could say anything mingi walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Miyeon's hands fell to her stomach, caressing it as she shut her eyes tightly.
God, this wasn't going the way she had expected it to.
__________________________
Miyeon stared at mingi as he ate his dinner, not having uttered a single word since he came out of that bathroom. Which was very unlike mingi, who couldn't usually keep himself from talking.
Miyeon : I'm sorry I asked.
Mingi : it doesn't really matter.
Miyeon : but-
Mingi : can we leave that matter behind, miyeon?
Miyeon : why do hate it so much, mingi-
Mingi : because it is my work! It's what my entire family has poured their entire life into and now you want me to leave it?
Miyeon : that's exactly why I want you to leave it, mingi. How many of your people have lost their lives over this work?
Mingi scoffed, putting his chopsticks down as he said
Mingi : I should've known this would happen someday.
Miyeon : what would happen.
Mingi : this! You questioning my life!
Miyeon : I'm not-
Mingi cut her off as he stood up, shaking his head before saying
Mingi : forget about all of this, miyeon. I am not going to leave my work behind for anyone or anything, bottom line.
Mingi turned around and left, leaving a teary-eyed miyeon behind. What the hell was she going to do now?
___________________________
2 weeks later :
Mingi limited his interactions with miyeon after that night. Because the more he thought about what she had told him that night, the more he realized his parents were right. Miyeon wasn't fit for this life of his, and no matter how much it hurt for the both of them, it would be better if they separated. Before it was too late, anyway.
And so mingi realized the best way to do that was to slowly grow more distant to her as days passed. In that way, it would hurt less for her when he said he wanted to break up. She'd probably hate him by then.
Whether this whole thing hurt mingi or not, that he didn't care about anymore. If this was what was best for miyeon, then so be it. She deserved a life with children and a loving husband who wasn't in danger of getting killed every day.
____________________________
2 months later :
Miyeon was now sitting in her living room, the TV playing some show in front of her. Except she wasn't watching, and she didn't have it in her to go for work either. She hadn't said that to mingi, because after all how could she? He left before she was awake and came back after she was asleep. And during the few moments they would meet, he remained cold as ever. And this had been going on for the past 2 months. The more time passed, the more distant mingi grew from her. At this point they almost lived like complete strangers.
And that, miyeon supposed, was because of what she had asked him a few months ago, about leaving his job and starting a family. But if this was how mingi reacted to just mere words and questions, how would he react to the fact that miyeon was actually pregnant with their babies? It would tear mingi apart from her, which was why miyeon had hesitated so much to break the news to her boyfriend.
But now, now she supposed there was no harm in trying. Because anyway, he was distant to her. What if things turned out to be different once she actually told mingi about her pregnancy? And so she decided to tell him.
Miyeon flinched as she heard the door opening, a frown falling on her face. It was only 6pm, who the hell was home now? Miyeon stood up, keeping her bowl of grapes aside before walking towards the entryway. Her eyes widened as she saw mingi, his face turning into that of surprise as well as he stared at her.
Mingi : what are you doing here?
Miyeon : I…took a day off work. And you?
Mingi sighed, keeping his shoes aside before saying
Mingi : well then, let's talk.
Miyeon nodded, realizing it was required. It would be the best time to break her news to mingi. Miyeon was about to say it when mingi suddenly said
Mingi : let's break up.
Miyeon froze, her heart thumping against her chest as she whispered
Miyeon : what?
Mingi : let's go our own ways now, miyeon. I don't want to be with you anymore.
Miyeon : but…why? Did I do something wrong?
Mingi : miyeon-ah, remember when you told me about starting a family?
Miyeon : that-
Mingi : yeah no, I cannot do that. This line of work does not allow me to do any of that. Yes, my ancestors have had a family, and many of their children have been killed in the process. The ones that did survive in the end, took over the company. But I cannot do that to my own children, miyeon. And not to you either. I refuse to sacrifice an innocent life for the sake of all this.
Miyeon stared at mingi, her hands unconsciously going to her belly. Mingi sighed as he continued
Mingi : this is a path I must lead by myself now. You cannot follow me any longer.
Miyeon : but I can adjust, mingi. Our-
Mingi : except I don't want you to adjust, miyeon. I don't want you at all anymore.
Miyeon stepped back from mingi, her eyes hurt.
Mingi : the more as time pass, the more you will turn into a burden for me. And I don’t think either of us want that in our future. So go, go away from me and live a life that you want. A life that will give you happiness.
Miyeon scoffed, looking away as tears filled her eyes.
Miyeon : all that time I spent on you, on us, it meant nothing in the end.
Mingi did not say anything more. And just by looking into his face, miyeon had finally decided.
She was going to do this on her own, she was going to give her babies the world.
And so miyeon looked up at mingi with determined eyes before saying
Miyeon : fine. Then this is the end of us. Goodbye, mingi.
__________________________
11 months later :
Miyeon stared at the two beings that were deep asleep in their cribs with a smile on her face, slowly rocking their cribs. It had been a boy and a girl, and miyeon had named them minho and minji. They weren't purely identical, but they had their own similarities. While minho was more like miyeon, minji was more like mingi. Except she wasn't going to tell them about their father.
It was the same father that had abandoned miyeon, so why would she bother telling her children about him? She was a nurse after all, she made enough money to be raising the both of her children very well by herself. And that was exactly what she was going to do.
__________________________
4 years later :
Miyeon was now in a park with her brother, minho and minji clearly in their own words, jumping around the trampoline. Miyeon was watching them with a smile on her face, sipping on her chocholate milk. Wooyoung turned to face his sister, his eyes squinted from the sunlight
Wooyoung : how long are you going to hide them from mingi?
Miyeon : as long as it's required, of course.
Wooyoung : and the kids? They're gonna wanna know about their father sometime, yeon-ah.
Miyeon : when they're old enough, I'll tell them the truth. About how he left me before I could even tell him that I was with child. Until then, they're gonna have to believe that their father is somewhere outside this nation and is unable to visit them.
Wooyoung sighed, leaning back against the bench before saying
Wooyoung : so you're gonna work hard like this for your entire life? Without anyone by your side?
Miyeon : well I have you.
Wooyoung whacked his sister's arm, making minho frown at his uncle from afar
Minho : if you hit my eomma once more, I'm going to squash your tiny head.
Miyeon laughed at that, making wooyoung frown in dismay
Wooyoung : yah! Whose head is tinier!
Minho stuck his tongue out at wooyoung, making wooyoung groan as he started to chase minho around the park. Miyeon chuckled as minji jumped out of the trampoline, running towards her mother with a smile on her face before crashing into her arms.
Minji : what's wrong with those two idiots?
Miyeon giggled, smoothening her daughter's hair before whispering
Miyeon : I wonder.
___________________________
3 years later :
Miyeon was now walking back home from work, after having decided not to take her car to work today. She was about to take her phone out when she heard heavy breathing somewhere close to her, making her pause on her tracks. Someone was hurt.
Miyeon quickly traced herself to the hurt person, standing in front of an alley a few seconds later. And soon enough she saw the man that was crouched down on the floor, holding his stomach that seemed to have a small stab wound, while letting out soft groans. Miyeon stepped forward and was about to say something when the man suddenly looked up, his face coming into her proper view.
Miyeon : mingi?
Mingi let out a shaky breath, looking away from miyeon as he whispered
Mingi : go away.
Miyeon : you're hurt.
Mingi : as you can see. Now go away, jung miyeon.
Miyeon : and? What, you're going to just let yourself die here?
Mingi : why do you care, miyeon. You're not supposed to-
Miyeon : I care because I am a nurse, there's nothing more to this than that.
Miyeon stepped closer to mingi, bending down and moving his hands away to inspect the wound. Mingi stared at her the entire while, taking her in after so many years.
Miyeon : it seems to be a small wound. Do you mind going to the hospital?
Mingi : I can't, they're going to ask for an explanation. Miyeon-
Miyeon : then we're doing this the old way.
Mingi's eyes widened as miyeon lifted him up with her, dragging him out the alley.
Mingi : what the hell are you doing? What is your husband going to say when he sees you taking me home like this?
Miyeon : lucky for you, I have no husband.
Mingi paused, confusion lacing him. She didn't have anyone? Then the kids he saw in the park with her a few months ago?
Miyeon : I'm going to call a taxi. Make sure you have your coat wrapped around the wound at all times. We cannot let anyone see that you're hurt.
Mingi slowly nodded, his hand still clutched against the wound. Miyeon let out a breath, holding her hand out for a taxi as she whispered under her breath
Miyeon : I can't believe I'm doing this.
_______________________________
Taglist : @curly-fr13s @jeongintwt @jamia-wilson @aloverga @treasure-hwa @bigzaddydwaekki
__________________________________
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fillinforlater · 1 year
Text
On her bottom (Part 2/2)
Male Reader x Nakamura Kazuha (ft. Miyeon)
Length: 3972 words
Tags: Daddy kink (well, ofc), replacement, sex as service, passionate kissing, loving make out, pussy eating, sweat, praising, subby!idol, self-degradation, burst of rage, hickeys, fondling, ass worship, talk about breeding, slow sex, missionary, anal, anal pronebone, begging for cum, cum on skin, angel!Kazuha
TW: Miyeon is not getting off lightly lol (or is she?), self-degradation
Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies, enough said.
Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing
(A/N: HERE IS PART ONE, hope you enjoy this one as well!)
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"Y-yes, Daddy."
You nod unceremoniously and swipe on your phone. A tiny smile pops up on your face for just a moment reading one of the many names. You quickly type out a message and send a pic of Miyeon along with it. It might take a bit until this new person arrives, but you know she will be worth the wait.
"Do you have any food in this place?” you sigh disappointed at Miyeon, “Make yourself useful at least and bring me something. Maybe that can pleasure me unlike you."
A swat at Miyeon's thigh signals to her that she is allowed to move. She is eager to get up, but her still sensitive, twitching pussy reminds her of what you did to her moments ago. Like a wounded soldier, you see her limp away, shame all over her face. She doesn't dare to look at you and only starts wailing when she is out of the room.
In the meantime, you switch from one app to the next and respond to work emails and other messages. Mostly boring proposals, requests, questions, stuff you will have to deal with later. Only a couple catch your eyes. Maybe they are spam, but if they are for real, you might have new idols that will suddenly be a lot more popular in this nation, probably even worldwide. While they smile in commercials at every highway, they are on their knees in your flat sucking your cock like a good girl.
Miyeon stretches out a silver tray with a variety of grapes and delicate pieces of chocolate. Her arms might not shake, but her orbs sure do. She quickly stares down to avoid you, to not show her weakness to take this loss. You're sure she would bawl her eyes right now if she knew who would surely knock on the door soon.
You calmly, without even looking up from your phone, ask Miyeon a question:
"Miyeon, should Daddy feel guilty if you're crying? Are you upset with me?"
"N-no, please, Daddy. I will be better, I promise."
Shallow knocks knock you out of your thoughts and the slander you wanted to throw at Miyeon becomes distant. Instead of spite, excitement fuels your veins.
"Come on in!"
It only took a few moments for an angel to step in front of your very eyes. Dressed in what you assume is her latest stage outfit, jeans and a white top that showed her perfectly sculpted body.
"Zuha, you arrived quickly. Come my angel!" you say as if casting a spell
"Daddy," she cutely says and basically leaps towards you. Miyeon can only dodge in shock and the dread that looms above her head like thunderous clouds becomes almost visible. She might feel a heavy downpour soon, as she eyes the japanese girl sinking into your embrace.
"You are such an Angel, coming straight from your music show to this place," you praise the young woman and pat her head. A rare smile forms on your face; not that you don’t smile, but this one is different. Miyeon surely has never seen it. A smile of… love?
"My angel, I'm sorry I missed your music show" you tell the giggling girl and sink with her onto the mattress. There is no slamming, no quickly getting to a fucking, just gentle loving. The ultimate shock for Miyeon however is the fact that you, Daddy, just apologized. It makes her jaw drop.
"I'm just so happy you called me, Daddy!"
Kazuha's cheeks turn rosy, her smile is wide and bright. It makes you melt into another passionate exchange of saliva with her. Her exposed abs press into you tightly, then shifting slowly over your cock. She smells of sweat, hard-work and pure love. Your fingers entangle themselves with her brown locks and your eyes open just to look at Miyeon's shocked expression.
"You're still sweaty, baby girl,” you whisper to Kazuha, “you really did just arrive after your stage didn't you? You're usually so clean and pure like a seraphim fitting of your group, but you're dirty today for Daddy, aren't you?"
"I couldn't let you wait, Daddy," she says with an adorable smirk. Her expression however shifts when she wraps her arms around your nape, comes very close to your face and also whispers:
"I can be the purest angel you have ever seen. I can also be—"
Instead of finishing her sentence, she steps back and tears down her pale blue jeans sticking to her sweaty legs. The front of her panties are soaked in her juice; its strong, mind-altering odor, one of the greatest smells to ever hit your nose, starts to fill the room and you can't hold yourself back anymore.
You leap and pull away at her panties, diving straight into her pussy with a powerful, needy lick. You inhale. There was no chance you would leave her folds anytime soon. You needed her aroma, her essence, to taste the very heavens.
An outsider might have assumed that your craving to be pleased was suddenly gone, but they would be mistaken. Basking in the gorgeous labia of one of your greatest creations—Kazuha, the perfect angel—is a greater pleasure than anything Miyeon could have offered today. Hearing Kazuha squeak and whine in her adorable voice it's like frosting on a glorious cake. Your angel adds cherries on top when she slowly removes her top with shaky hands to reveal her cute chest jiggling.
"Daddy should spend more time with you, Zuha, I want you to be by my side for a while. Stay with Daddy and serve me in the Master room.”
You owned numerous houses and had an abundance of bedrooms in each home, but the designated Master room was exclusive, special. Only those of your absolute favorites ever saw the inside of that room. There were rumors that the Master room was where more intimate words were exchanged rather than just beastly lust. Whispers even that the Master room was a sign of being a chosen life partner and even mother to Daddy's future children.
"Oh, Daddy, I'd love to spend all the time in the world in your Master room," Kazuha says with her cute giggle and rosy blush on angelic cheeks, "but I'm sure there is a different reason why I'm here. Would you please tell me why or… what you want me to do~?
"H-how?" Miyeon stutters in disbelief as she watches the scene unfold before her.. Although she should fear your reaction to her disobedience, she can't help but be drawn to this fascinating play. It pulls her in like a magnet, like you and Kazuha create the strongest form of gravity with your love making.
You then turn to Miyeon and Kazuha notices her for the first time. It was well understood that your girls don't interact until you give them the okay. You shake your head at the sight of the blonde in disbelief, whose mouth is agape like her brain has stopped functioning.
"You're here because someone has left Daddy disappointed."
"Oh. Daddy, it's okay,” Kazuha soothes you, as if she’d just heard of the most heartbreaking tragedy in the world, “I'll make you feel all better. Anything you wish, any dream of yours, I'm at your service. You can even bree—"
"What?” Miyeon loses it, “How dare you ask Daddy to breed you!"
A cold dark silence then falls into the room that even endangers the light of Kazuha. You give Miyeon a deadly stare. Daggers of ice pierce her weary, distraught eyes. She had interrupted your angel. She had interrupted what she could rightfully ask for. You had told Kazuha awhile back that she was worthy of breeding. She was trying to comfort you in that moment and Miyeon just ruined it too. She had proven herself worthless and dared to speak out of turn. An unforgivable insult.
"That's enough."
Miyeon freezes on the spot. She probably thought she heard you in every imaginable tone before. You had sounded compassionless, angry, hateful, but it had never sounded as menacingly, downright evil as this. Your hands turn to fists that squeeze so tightly, your knuckles might pop out any second. Your knees buckle, but you are not unstable—the ground is. Your anger could cause an earthquake and Miyeon starts to stumble.
"No, Daddy! Please, look at me."
You turn and see Kazuha cool, strong and with a look of concerned sadness on her face. Kazuha holds your hands and gives you a soft empathetic look. Her eyes flutter gently and she presses the palm of her hand on your chest as if to press a button.
"It's okay Daddy. I'm here. Just focus on me. I'm here to make you happy. To make all your disappointment go away. If you want to take your anger out on something, use my body."
No. You couldn't bring yourself to do that. Not punitive and full of rage, not to her. Rough fucking, yes. But punishment, pure white hot anger? Never to Kazuha. She has gone beyond that in your mind after you met her for the first time.
You take a deep breath as Kazuha strokes your hair gently and just continues to look at you softly as if slowly absorbing the emotion and making it disappear. Kazuha leaves a quick, soft kiss on your lips, the kind of kiss that heals all wounds but makes you want more, more, more—everything.
"Zuha…"
It's remarkable how she takes your breath away, how she makes you lose control. The two of you sink into the soft cushions of the old bed. The middle of this room, intentionally old looking, formerly filled with the bad thoughts and disappointment for Miyeon evaporates. You only feel Kazuha's lips on yours, her tongue at yours, her hands entwined in yours.
Kazuha creates one of your favorite melodies, a song that makes you feel like you're in heaven, when you fold one of her legs gently with one hand, while the digits of your second play with her sex. She moans into your mouth. Her eyes become watery. She melts like ice cream in the hot summer, while she herself is hot, outside and inside.
"Fuck, Zuha. I'll put it in now. I'll put it in in the Master room as well, fuck, I want to put it in every day."
"I can do it everyday, Daddy. Whatever you need from me. Always.” Kazuha uses her cute, soft fingers to slowly spread open her pussy, and needily, quietly moans, “Fuck me, Daddy. Make this angel feel your love. Corrupt me with your cock and turn me into your sinful slut, Daddy."
"My angel."
You groan as your crotch slams into hers. Her wet, incredibly tender folds make for an easy entry of your throbbing cock. The entire ordeal has cranked your senses up to eleven and so your mind begins to numb when your entire length is in Kazuha's tight cavern and getting a slick, tight massage by a stunning, slightly whimpering beauty.
"Did I do it too fast?"
"No, Daddy, you just feel so good. I… I want you more, I want to be your fuckdoll angel."
"I'm really exhausted though…"
Kazuha smiles shyly when you begin your first thrust at a snail's pace. She moans under her breath and then whispers:
"You can also use a fuckdoll slowly. As long as you use it, it has a purpose. You're my purpose, Daddy.”
This is different. Miyeon knows and you know that she knows. You don’t have to look at her to know her facial expression. Surely, she dreamed of something like this, but never would it have been realistic to her. It’s far away from using a toy, and much rather a—
Kazuha is the first girl Miyeon has ever seen with you that gets slow, loving sex with no hints at edging or teasing or punishment. In her maybe hundreds of times of having seen or heard you fuck another girl or herself, nothing close to this has occurred.
"I love you Daddy," Kazuha says, trying her best to get it straight out with love and honesty, while her insides get stimulated by your veiny girth.
"I love you too, Zuha."
Kazuha's body is more drug than fuckdoll to you. You can't keep your hands off of her smooth skin, be it her thighs, abs or collarbone. Especially the firmness of her perfectly shaped, perfectly sized, perfectly perfect ass leaves you wanting to touch it forever. Forever might be impossible, even to you, but for at least this session you fondle it over and over again. It makes the angel giggle.
"Daddy, you love my ass?"
"I do, Zuha. Fuck, you make me go crazy."
Two more thrusts, a little faster this time, but not to fast. Just to make her feel how huge you are inside her pink hole. She mewls beside you ear when you nibble on her neck and get ready to place a love mark. Strong suction, the shape of your lips in reddish-purple while your hands dig into Kazuha’s ass like it’s sand hiding a treasure.
"I love how you touch it, Daddy. I want you to praise it more, shower it in your delicious cum, Daddy."
"But I want to fill you up, Zuha, get you ready for breeding."
You look into her orbs, mere inches away. They are scintillating like the night sky with hundreds of shooting stars. Added with her magenta, falsely innocent cheeks on a snow pale face and an unfairly adorable pout, she can make you say or do almost anything.
"Breed me only in your Master room, Daddy. Please, cover my ass today. I love you!"
This back and forth was unprecedented for Miyeon. She had never seen someone so gently push at what you wanted. Such an act was criminal, but you don't mind at all with Kazuha. You wanted to breed her but she asked not to. This went against everything Miyeon was trained to believe. It wasn't all a lie, however. Rather what plays out in front of her is something she has yet to achieve: Kazuha had Daddy's love.
"It's sad that I can't see your face when I cum on your ass though," you say playfully, rubbing your thumbs over her nipples while staying motionless inside her, buried to the hilt, balls touching her butt, "someone should get us a mirror."
As if a ghost hits her face, Miyeon snaps out of her envy, her remorse. She quickly sneaks out of the room in search of one of those large mirrors they had stored somewhere during the shooting.
You sigh but smile at Kazuha as you just relish her touch. She made you forget about all the stupid girls, bratty bitches that never seemed to grasp how to satisfy your needs and go beyond that. Kazuha had it figured out in a couple of days. She makes you believe that she isn't just a natural, but that she is your natural, yours alone—and with every thrust in her clenching cavern, you let her know how much you adore her. Her wish might not be your command, but you will fulfill it nonetheless.
"Zuha, we have a mirror," you say, glancing at Miyeon who hides behind the large, framed object she carried in from outside the room, "Lay on your belly and watch me."
"Thank you so much, Daddy."
She gets in position, giggling in small when your huge cock leaves her pussy for a second. You get behind her but not before throwing Miyeon evidence you did have control of Zuha. You just chose not to use it. Until now.
"Zuha, beg for me. Where does my angel want Daddy's cock?”
Kazuha looks through the mirror straight into your eyes. Her beautiful lips furrow to a pout, while both her hands travel to her hips and then to her ass where she kneads and fondles her flesh. With a needy, whiny mating call, she begs:
"Please, Daddy, please use me to your liking. I love it when you praise me with your hot, hard cock and glaze me with your sticky cream. Please, my Daddy!"
You had seen a few stage performances of her group. Chaewon, Sakura, Yunjin, they all sure loved to shake their asses. This time around, you will shake Kazuha’s too; just in your way, of course. You slowly put the tip near her puckered entrance, moving it in a circular motion, pressing lightly against the skin, flesh and ring. Your precum and her slick juices cover her more and more in glassy liquid.
"Pierce my ass, Daddy! Fill me up and use me as you please. I'll shake it more than in any music video or live stage if you just—oh God!"
Enough teasing. With Kazuha pulling her cheeks apart and relaxing her anal cavity, you easily push inch after inch after inch of yourself into her. Her rear end was always tight and delicate, but if you want to cover her soon, you'd need to go harder than you usually do.
There was another difference between other girls and your angel. You let Kazuha know what was about to happen. Most of the time you would fuck as hard as you wanted without warning. Most of them were just toys to be used after all but not her.
"Baby, if you want Daddy's cum, I'm going to have to get a bit rougher with you than usual, okay? You can turn your head to kiss Daddy anytime you want. I love you.”
You adjust slightly so her feet would be under your balls nestling them into place. She scrunched her toes a little so you'd feel her polish scratch against your sack. After many rounds with Monday today (and the rest of the week) you need all the stimulation to get a load out worthy of covering Kazuha’s huge bottom.
"You don't have to be so kind," she moans out in her most sexy voice yet, "this is my purpose after all."
You take a deep breath. From the corner of your eyes you might have seen Miyeon peeking from behind the mirror, but she is not worth any ounce of your energy. As air leaves your lunges you begin your race for pleasure. You pull out and slam down into Kazuha, just once to see her reaction. When you see her face filled with pleasure and moans only subdued to her biting the sheets, you go again, faster, harder.
Not since she first began her rigorous ballet training did she feel something so rough on her, but just like her performances, it would lead to something of pure glory. After all, what greater glory and purpose was there than getting fucked by Daddy—in her ass no less. All her long hours of idol training, the workouts, the hardship. She didn't stay in perfect shape for the company or for her fans, no, she kept herself in perfect condition for moments like this, for her Daddy.
You read it all from her eyes, the expression she shows when her teeth continue to dig into the white of the sheets, the mattress, until she can't handle her own silence anymore:
"Daddy, I love you!"
You slow down and lean towards her raised head to kiss her intensely. She tries her best to get used to the roughness. After all, she hasn't been here for long. Like a champ, she takes your pounding even through the distracting, difficult kiss. You cup her cheeks and guide her gaze towards the mirror.
"Look at Daddy, look at how happy you are making him. My angel is such a good girl for Daddy."
"I-I'm your butt slut, Daddy."
"You still want me to cum on your ass?"
"Y-yes, Daddy."
"Then I need you to stay this perfectly tight just a little longer."
"Yes, Daddy…hng!"
Kazuha as expected has near perfect control of her body. She tightens every muscle around your cock which drives you wild. You swear to yourself that you need to one day dedicate an entire weekend to mold her secret hole to the shape of your dick, while making her cute face look nothing but blissful.
"Baby, I'm going to go even harder. Fucking hell, I may just cum in your ass."
Now it's Kazuha's turn to feel what it's like to go to heaven. Her face is one of pure devotion and love for you, your power, your cock. Each of your piston-like pumps makes her melt and she looks so marvelously gorgeous. It would feel like betrayal cumming inside her and as you are not a slave to your urges, you make the last second effort to pull out.
Pull out of her tightness, her perfect hole after it's first hard fucking. You immediately burst all over her peach, adding tons of cream to the creamy skin of her bottom. Watching her realize that you did it, fulfilled her wish and made her cum is the greatest pleasure.
You might not be a slave to your urges, but you are one to the physical laws of this world. This last nut was just too much. Your body collapses in happiness and exhaustion. The last thing you hear is Kazuha panting and cooing her gratitude for your load. Then, your eyes become unbearably heavy.
-
Kazuha lays by your side until she feels her stomach growl. She gets up to go to the kitchen, where Miyeon is cleaning up. Both are hesitant to say something, awkwardness fills the air just like the faint smell of old wooden planks. Finally, the older one musters up the courage to speak.
"Thank you by the way for, for saving me from possible p-punishment."
The angel loses her sweet features for a moment and becomes stern.
"Save you? I did no such thing. I can't stand to see Daddy upset and unsatisfied. My priority, my whole purpose is to make him happy. You somehow managed to fail at all of those tonight and you even had the audacity to bring him to some creaky old home and demand his time."
"I-I am… uh, I'm sorry. I'll t-try to be better," Miyeon stutters, clearly caught off guard by the sudden coldness and looks down at her feet. She feels humiliated that someone so much younger with a lot less experience is at a point which she will probably never reach. All she can do is strive to be like her, to compete, to overtake—
Suddenly Kazuha grabs Miyeon's chin and looks her dead in the eye. With a voice filled with pity, she says:
"You better do, because I won't stop being the best for him."
Miyeon was shocked by how fierce Kazuha had become. When she let’s go of the blonde's face, it’s like Kazuha was able to imprint herself in Miyeon’s eyes forever.
"You know, he calls me his angel. It’s something you would never understand, never cherish. I’ll try everything to be this guardian angel. That means protecting him from bad things and disappointing people.”
Miyeon could swear she sees wings sprout from Kazuha. An archangel, sent by Daddy as if he was their god. She is an extension of his very will and being. Miyeon’s eyes almost pop out as she begins to realize how this game is truly played.
"I trained to be the best,” Kazuha continues, slowly stepping out of the room,” at the best schools abroad. In everything I did, I thought I reached the top but then I met Daddy. He showed me what it truly means to be the best. You should be ashamed of yourself. You weren't ready to satisfy him in the way he deserves.
He deserves the best. You are nothing.”
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rvp32 · 1 year
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Savior- Chapter 2
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“I am Gaeul, what is your name?” She said while holding out her hand 
Looking at the hand she held out, the entire situation bewildered you “I am Hwang y/n” You say and show her your palm which is covered in blood and glass shards. 
“Oh my god, we need to treat this otherwise it will get infected,” She said in a panic, she held your arm and dragged you downstairs towards what you assumed was her, the funny thing was that you let her do it. Curiosity about her took over and you wanted to see where it would go.
Gaeul pulls you inside and commands you to sit, you listen and try to stop the bleeding but it wasn’t very effective. Grabbing a first aid kit, alcohol,  and a tray to help, she kneels in front of you and begins to treat the wound. With every shard of glass that she pulled out you winced in pain and sometimes let out a yelp. After bandaging your palm, she pulls up a chair opposite to you and says “jumping off the building isn’t the best way to go out you know, there are more effective ways to do it”
A shocked expression plastered all over your face as you were expecting her to try and console you not to off yourself. “Yeah I know but sadly I don’t have access to all those things right now and shouldn’t you be trying to stop me?” you ask
“No matter what I try, if you don’t want to live you will do it anyways, So why did you wanna do it?” Gaeul asks while looking you in the eyes. 
You explain your situation to her and tell her about everything that happened between you and Miyeon. After venting about the entire situation to her you felt a lot better. Without saying anything Gaeul walks to the kitchen and grabs a glass of water and brings it to you, taking the glass of water from her you thank her and look down into the glass of water anticipating a reply from her 
“If she did something so evil and disgusting to you, shouldn’t you do something worse or get payback? Do you want to let her win and be happy? Because if I were in your place I wouldn’t, I would make her life miserable” her voice was laced with poison and anger. 
“I don’t know, you make a very valid point, you know. I will think about it and get back at her” confident that you could come up with something. 
“Let me know how it goes, women like her should be put in their place, they need to know the difference between right and wrong. 
It was getting late and you didn’t want to overstay your welcome so you told her that you should go back home but she said that she wasn’t going to let me leave because you would probably jump after you left her house. You tried to reason with her and tell her that you won’t but Gaeul was very stubborn, she insisted that you sleep in the guest room to which you had no choice but to agree. Since your shirt had blood stains on it she followed you to your room and let you freshen up and get changed, after which you headed back to Gaeul’s room. 
After getting back to her room, she leads you to the guest room and hands you a blanket and a pillow. “Thank you so much, for saving me I would have regretted it, but thanks to you I realized that I shouldn’t be the one regretting it, I would like to take you out to dinner tomorrow if that is fine with you” 
“Ohh slow down there, you're welcome, in the past I was also in a dark place but sadly no one was there for me so I try my best to help others. Yes, I will have dinner with you tomorrow,” Gaeul said. You could sense the sadness in her voice, but you don’t probe any further.
“Good night Gaeul, thank you again,” You say as you head into the room. The bed was comfy, and within a few minutes of lying down you fell asleep. 
Random noises and the bed moving causes you to open your eyes to find Miyeon having sex with another man while sleeping on the same bed as you, “This is the best feeling ever having sex right next to him, he is a cuck who doesn’t even know that his girlfriend is cheating on him” Miyeon Moans not noticing that you were awake. you try to do something about it but your body won’t move, it was almost like someone tied you to the bed however this was not the case as you could see that your arms were not tied but they just wouldn’t move. All you could do was to try and scream hoping that she would stop. The next thing that you see is Miyeon trying to stab you with a knife. 
You jolt up awake in the unknown room but you feel some warmth holding you, Gaeul was holding you and trying to calm you down “it is a nightmare, you are safe, I am right here, she won’t be able to hurt you” She says while patting your back and head. Her presence and constant reaffirmation calmed you down, allowing you to go back to sleep.
The sunlight causes you to wake up and notice that Gaeul was still sleeping beside you with her arms around your shoulder while your face was near her breasts, a blush crept up on your face noticing the position that you were in. Trying to move out of someone’s hands while making sure that they don’t wake up was difficult, as you were trying to slip away Gaeul woke up, “Good morning Y/N, are you feeling better? Gaeul asks.
“Yeah, I am good thanks to you. I was able to sleep better after the nightmare, sorry for disturbing your sleep.” You apologize. 
“It's fine, you can freshen, there is a new toothbrush in the washroom. Once you are done, I will make you some breakfast”
Before you can protest, Gaeul walks out of the room leaving you alone, you decide to freshen up and head to the kitchen. The kitchen was still empty so you decided to look around. There were barely any pictures, she had a PS5 and a Switch. Out of everything in the living room what shocked you the most was the Doctorate certificate hanging on the wall. Gaeul was a certified neurosurgeon, the certification explained why she could remove the shards without any hesitation and also bandage your hand so easily. 
While staring at the certificate Gaeul walks out of her room and says “yeah I forgot to mention I am a doctor” She says nonchalantly while walking to the kitchen. She made a simple breakfast for herself and you with eggs, sausage, and hashbrowns. As you were finishing up you looked at the time and were amazed to see that it was nearly 11 AM “shouldn’t you be at the hospital considering it is so late?” you ask Gaeul hoping you weren’t the reason why she was late.
“No, today is my day off and I don’t have to report daily, my area of expertise only requires me to come in rarely so I get to stay home or go out very often,” Gaeul says while taking the plate from you to wash, you try to stop her and volunteer to wash it, she looks at you and laughs not understanding why you ask “what happened? Why are you laughing?”
“Look at your left hand, how do you plan on washing dishes with a single hand?” Gaeul says while with a smile plastered on her face. Feeling embarrassed you don’t say anything but admire Gaeul’s beauty as she washes the dishes. She was a very pretty woman and over that, she was a kind person as well. 
“Am I that pretty for you to be staring at me so intently?” Gaeul says which brings you back to reality, you notice that you had been staring at her for a while now. 
“Yes you are really pretty” you reply and it wasn’t what Gaeul was not expecting you to be so straightforward that she drops the spoon that she was washing and you also notice a red tint forming on her face.  
“What do you do for a living?” Gaeul asks trying to divert the topic, You decide not to probe any further 
“I am an investment banker, the CEO of Hwang investments” you reply 
“No wonder you looked familiar, Your face is on that huge hoarding in downtown Seoul,” Gaeul says with a surprised look on her face. 
“Yeah, that does sound like me. Anyways I should go back to my place as I need to go to work” You say as you needed to be in the office today 
“Okay fine you can go but promise me that you won’t try to do anything stupid, call me if you feel overwhelmed or if you want to vent. Here is my number” she slips her business card toward you 
“Thank you, I promise that I won’t do anything stupid so don’t worry, be ready by 7:00 PM, I will pick you up for dinner,” You say as you begin to walk towards the door. 
You get dressed and head to the office, as usual people were greeting you but once you reached your office Choa barged into the room questioning why your left hand was bandaged, Worrying Choa meant that she would be on your ass a lot more than usual so you just tell her that you hurt yourself while picking up pieces of a glass that you broke, though she was skeptical about it she decided to trust you and not ask more questions. 
Going through the day you were excited for the evening because you would get to meet Gaeul again. You finish your work an hour earlier than you expected so you go back home to shower and change to make yourself more presentable. By the time you are ready, it is almost 7:00 PM so you decide to knock on Gaeul’s door which is only 2 floors below yours. The door opens to reveal Gaeul who is wearing a black dress that is hugging her curves and a pair of black stiletto heels to match her dress.
“You are beautiful,” you say without a speck of hesitation in your voice. Gaeul blushes at the sudden compliment and invites you in to sit down as she isn’t done getting ready.
“Aren’t you a bit too early or were you that eager to meet me?” she says. You were trying your hardest not to stare at her ass while she was doing something near the counter but you just couldn’t take your eyes off her. 
“Yeah, I was very eager to see you” you reply, still staring at her ass. The reply causes Gaeul to turn around but you still couldn’t take your eyes off her. 
“Hey, my eyes are up here. You have a very bad habit of staring don’t you” with a smirk on her face which 
“Sorry, I was just mesmerized by your beauty, are you ready to head out?” embarrassed that she caught you staring, you pull your phone out to distract yourself. 
“Yeah I am, let's go, Where are you taking me anyways?” Picking up her purse she walks towards the door and you follow.
“I chose a Japanese restaurant, hope that is fine with you,” The elevator doors open and both of you get in. 
“I love Japanese food” was the last thing she said, the elevator ride was silent. You walk towards your car and open the door for her, she gets in and you go around to sit down as well. You tell your chauffeur where you are headed and the car begins to move.
Gaeul broke the silence, “Do you always have someone driving you around?”
“No, I usually have someone driving me if I have to work or if I am injured” you reply by showing her your bandaged hand. 
“Oh, sorry that was a silly question given that I was the one who bandaged your hand,” she says with a giggle. 
“So, Miss Kim, what made you want to become a doctor?” curious about why a woman as beautiful as her, who could have become an idol or even a model chose to become a doctor.
“I want to save people, Mr. Hwang,” she replies with a smile. It was a simple answer, she didn’t expand on it anymore. For the rest of the car ride, you guys talk about things like your hobbies, and what you like to eat. You were able to learn that she loves to watch anime and K-dramas. She is also a gamer who loves to play Fifa, Super Smash Bros, Call of Duty, and many more. What caught you off guard was her love for sports, Gaeul loved to play and watch football and coincidentally both of you supported the same team. 
The car arrives at the restaurant and both of you get down. The receptionist greets you and walks you to your table. Both of you ordered food and continued your conversation from the car. Both of you had a lot in common. Recently she even went to a Twice concert, you were also present in the concert and had backstage access as Mina was one of your close friends. When she found out that Mina was my friend and that I met twice she freaked out and asked to tag along with you the next time you went to meet Mina. You agreed because Mina would love Gaeul’s bubbly personality. The dinner was very smooth, the conversations covered multiple topics. You enjoyed talking to someone who listened and showed interest in what you were speaking about. 
You escort Gaeul back to her room, “I hope you enjoyed the dinner because I truly did. If you ever need help with anything please don’t hesitate to call, text, or even knock on my door. My apartment number is 2012.” Gaeul nodded and said that she will be there for you as well. Before you left she gave you a tight hug and went into her room shutting the door. You were astonished and stood in front of her door for a minute trying to figure out why you felt this way.
Being around Gaeul for some reason made you feel comfortable, you wanted to protect her, and help her but at the same time you wanted her in your arms all the time. 
Before you could proceed with anything you had to first take care of the whole situation with Miyeon. Payback and punishment were due. The first thing you do is contact your friend Andre who was exceptional with computers, he could access any type of information. You asked Andre to help find some dirt on Miyeon, to which he agreed without questioning because when he first found out about you dating Miyeon he was against it. After all, according to him, she had a ‘weird vibe’. 
Within a few hours, you get an email from Andre, it contains the illegal and stupid things that Mieyon has done or is doing. Miyeon ran a Cafe in Seoul, it was relatively successful but she was using underhanded techniques to evade taxes which meant that she could essentially go to jail if someone found out. You sent an ‘anonymous tip’ to the cops that night. 
Changing into more comfortable clothes to go to bed, you were looking forward to how the situation would pan out, playing some soothing music when you fell asleep. The next morning you woke up to news stating that a popular cafe in Seoul was closed down because it was evading taxes, there was a video of Miyeon being taken to the police station. You felt a sense of relief. Deciding to finish what you started, you go to the police station where she is being held to ask for a private audience with Miyeon, they were hesitant at first but they allowed it. 
You walk into the room that she is being held in. “Hi Miyeon, how does it feel being held accountable for your actions”
“Y/N please help me, I am very sorry for what I did. Please help me get out of this situation, I will do anything for your help. I beg you!” Miyeon pleaded with you, her eyes filled with tears.
You laugh, it was comical how much a person could change when they needed you. “Oh really? Who do you think even put you here you whore?” you say with a malicious look. 
Appalled with what she is hearing, Miyeon begins to cry, she tries to get out of her chair to grab you out of anger but you dodge pretty easily. “Easy there, I am here to help you. I did this just to show you what I am capable of doing to you, this isn’t even the worst thing that you have done. Consider this as your last warning, mess with me again and you won’t see the light of the day for the rest of your life” you say, smiling at the state she is in.
“My lawyer will be here in a few hours, she is the best there is in South Korea so you will most likely get away with a fine, which you will pay for so be thankful. Bye Miyeon this is the last time that I will help you, don’t ever appear in front of me again. You understand?” You leave the room without listening to her response. 
As soon as you exit the Police station you text Gaeul “I did it I finally got my revenge on her. Are you at home or work? I wanna see you so that I can tell you everything”
She replies that she is still at home so you head back and tell her everything about it. She was excited and happy that you were finally able to get back at her. “ This calls for a celebration! You want some whiskey?” Gaeul asks 
“Hell yeah it does!” you say 
After talking to her you notice that she was playing the Call of Duty campaign, “Hey you wanna 1 vs 1, the loser has to grant the winner a wish” You say  
“You are on, better not back down or give me excuses when you lose,” Gaeul says as she walks to the couch with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. 
A game of Frontline and the first to 20 win, Gaeul was very good but you were equally experienced, the score was neck to neck but you ended up losing. The last kill was so stupid, you died by walking into a trip mine that Gaeul had placed next to a doorway. 
“Damn I can’t believe that I lost because of a fucking trip mine!” You say in frustration. Gaeul smiles and says “hey, a loss is still a loss so you better be ready to grant my wish”
“Fine you are correct so what is your wish?” You are curious to see what she wants from you.
 “I am not going to use it now but I will tell you when it's time” she says with a knowing smile. 
Not wanting to leave her presence, you ask her if she wants to watch something to which she said that she would love to watch the new season of The Alchemy of Souls, you agree to her request and pull it up on the TV. 
The episode plays on the TV while you and Gaeul sit next to each other, to your dismay there was a good amount of distance between the both of you. As you watch the series your eyes begin to close, the lack of sleep from all the nightmares catches up to you and you end up falling asleep on the couch.
A sudden noise from the TV wakes you up, confused as to what that sound was. You try to look around only to notice that you were asleep on Gaeul’s thighs. Jolting up from the realization you begin to apologize to her, “I am so sorry I didn’t think I would fall asleep, it must have been very uncomfortable. I should head back. Thanks for having me over,” 
Getting up to leave you to feel something tugging on your t-shirt, turning around to find Gaeul holding it while looking at the ground, she mumbles something inaudible to you, “huh? Gaeul I can’t hear you”
“Don’t leave please” Gaeul says while looking you in the eyes, her eyes pleading and begging you.
Hearing her say that set something off in you so you sit back down but this time you were very close to her body touching yours. Looking at her you catch sight of Gaeul staring at your lips. This action gives you the confidence to move in to kiss her. The first kiss feels electrifying, it was filled with love, there was no fight for dominance, and both your tongues moved perfectly. The need to feel more of her grew within you so you picked her up and placed her on your lap. The kiss got deeper, and Gaeul’s hands began moving inside your shirt. One of your hands was placed on Gaeul’s ass while the other was playing with her hair. The kiss slowly turned into one with more lust, and Gaeul started grinding on your clothed- penis. It took all the willpower in your body to pull away from the kiss. 
“Gaeul, are you sure about this? If you keep grinding on me like this I won’t be able to hold back” You say to make sure that you weren’t making her uncomfortable.
“I am sure, so I beg you please don’t stop” After saying that she kisses you again and tries to gain more friction on her folds. Gaeul giving you the green light was all you were waiting for. Your hands immediately pulled up her hoodie and to your luck, she wasn’t wearing any bra.
She pulls out of the kiss and covers her body, “You are beautiful and your body is like that of a Goddess so please don’t hide it, let me worship this heavenly body of yours” You say while placing kisses on her neck and trailing to her hands that were covering her mounds.
“Take off your shirt as well, I don’t want to be the only one almost naked” listening to her demand you pull off your t-shirt and kiss her again. The grinding doesn’t stop and there is a wet spot that forms on your pants, Gaeul’s panties were soaked. You picked her up and placed her on the couch, your shaft was begging to be freed and it was almost painful. Pulling down your boxers you hear Gaeul gasp. “What’s wrong?” you ask.
“It's so big! I have never been with someone so well-endowed. This might not even fit inside me” she looked like she was scared but also excited to find out how good this would be. 
Kneeling next to the couch you spread Gaeul’s legs apart and start to slowly eat her out. “Mhmm,” she lets out a muffled moan. “Don’t hold back, I wanna hear your beautiful voice.” You continue to eat her pussy and play with her clit, her hands are grabbing the back of your head pushing you in. 
“Oh my fucking God, this feels amazing, please don’t stop. I am so close!” her head was thrown back and her back bent. 
“I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, cumming!” you help her ride her orgasm out, she was still shaking. You didn’t let anything go to waste and gave her pussy a final lick. 
Your cock was now throbbing, hoping for some sort of relief. Gaeul falls to her knees and begins to play with your shaft, using both her hands to rub it, she places her head on the tip and starts to bob her head slowly. Gaeul was trying her best to take in more every time, she started to gag when she was nearly there. She takes your cock out of her mouth and tries to catch her breath. 
She goes back to sucking your cock, She wasn’t the best at it but she was truly trying her best. After a while of her sucking your cock and using her tongue on its head you were about to cum. “Gaeul I’m going to cum”
She fastens her pace and tries to go deep, as you are about to cum you push Gaeul’s head deeper and unload into her throat. When you pull out, she starts coughing, and you realize what you did. “I am so sorry, I can’t believe that I just did that.” 
The tears and the erotic expression that Gaeul had on her face weren’t helping, your cock began to harden again. 
“Hey calm down, I am fine, it wasn’t even that bad. I was trying to satisfy you but it looks like you aren’t satisfied” She says while looking at your cock which was now fully erect. 
“We don’t have to do this if you are tired or don’t want to” you try to convince her that you can stop now. 
“Come here and fuck me hard, I shouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow, I am not giving you an option” Gaeul pulls her panties down, spreads her legs, and is playing with her pussy. 
The sight makes you lose all control. “Ms. Kim, you are going to regret your words, you won’t be able to walk for at least 2 days after I am done with you.” 
You align your shaft with Gaeul’s dripping pussy and tease her by hitting her pussy with your cock. “Stop teasing please put it in, I can’t wait to feel your huge cock”. No longer being able to resist, you slowly insert your shaft.
“Oh fuck! It’s so fucking huge, Slow please wait it hurts, it hurts” Gaeul is screaming and her nails are digging into your skin, 
“You are so fucking tight!” halting midway allowing her to adjust to the size.
“Should I continue?” Gaeul nods, so you continue to insert into her until you are balls deep. You don’t move to allow her to adjust. You kiss her neck to distract her from the pain, slowly trailing your kisses to her neck and giving her some hickeys. 
“Ahh!” A loud moan leaves Gaeul’s mouth 
“You have a really sensitive neck Gaeul, I am going to move now, if you feel too much pain let me know and I will slow down.” slowly moving, you continue to kiss her and play with her body.
Moans and grunts were all you could hear. Everything was going well until you pitched her nipple and hit a certain spot that caused her to scream, you stopped everything. 
“Don’t stop, please do it again, do it again please, I beg you. I’m going to lose my mind, you are touching places that I never thought was possible, make me cum please”
You indulge in her wish and do the same thing but with strength this time and it completely sends her over the edge and squirts all over you.  she is a mess, her entire body is shaking, her eyes rolled back, and unable to form say anything comprehensible. Her pussy is so tight with her orgasm that it is essentially holding you, hostage. 
A switch in your mind flips, instead of slowing down and allowing her to ride out her orgasm you speed up to help reach your orgasm, “Stop, pl…ease. Too much. Ahhhhhhh” Gaeul cums again, you pull out and cum all over her stomach. Come back to your senses and see that Gaeul is crying from the over-stimulation. 
“I am so sorry I don't know what went over me. I am going to grab a tissue from the washroom to help you clean up,” Gaeul was completely lost, tears falling from her eyes and sobs were all you could hear but her face had a satisfied smile on it. She mumbled something that you couldn’t understand. 
By the time you got a tissue  Gaeul is already passed out, you help her clean up and bring her a blanket. The cold feeling must have woken her up because as you were about to leave she held your hand so you decided to cuddle with her and fall asleep on the couch. The tiring activity puts you to sleep relatively fast. 
Waking up first and beside her was very nice, you decide to order some breakfast, and though you would love to make her breakfast you also do not want to wake her, she looked so beautiful sleeping. Recounting the events from yesterday, you blush. Admiring her beauty, you place a kiss on her forehead. “You have a very bad habit of staring, did you know that?” Gaeul speaks with her eyes closed. 
“When someone as pretty as you are in front of me, I will be staring” you give her a peck on the lips. 
“You weren’t lying when you said that I won’t be able to walk for a few days,” Gaeul says with a smirk
“Yeah sorry about that, I don’t know why I lost control. I can’t believe that I was” Not letting you complete the sentence Gaeul kisses you to shut you up. 
“You talk too much, I loved it, every single bit of it so stop apologizing,” Gaeul says and you hug her in response to that. 
“I enjoyed it as well, anyways I ordered some food, it should be here soon, you might want to brush and freshen up,” you say as you get up from the couch. 
Gaeul gets up and limps her completely naked to the washroom. “Shouldn’t you put on some clothes?” you ask, smiling as you watch her cute ass bounce with every step she takes. 
“Why? It's not like you haven’t seen everything already” She winks at you and continues to limp. You also go to the guest room to freshen up. 
The food arrived and Gaeul and you sat down to eat. The food felt much more delicious now that you were so hungry. “I know that this is late but would you be my girlfriend ms Kim Gaeul”
“Yes, I would love to be your girlfriend Mr. Hwang.” you get up, hug her and kiss her.
“I love you Gaeul, you make me feel so safe when I am around you” You confess
“I love you too Y/N, I feel happy when I am with you because I can be who I am when I am with you,” Gaeul says with a cute smile on her face 
You continue to eat and suddenly Gaeul says “I also know what I want to wish for” 
“Oh, really, and what is that pretty girl?” 
Her face turns red hearing the nickname that you gave her, she composes herself and says “I know that this is a weird wish but now that we are dating I feel like I should have you try it with me so that you can decide if you want to do this or not?”
“Gaeul you are being weird just tell me what it is and I am willing to try it” 
“I want you to dominate me,” Gaeul says with a serious tone without any expression on her face 
To be continued 
This one was longer than usual. Let me know what you guys think
395 notes · View notes
unstable-samurai · 3 days
Text
THE NEW COUNTRY GIRL NEXT DOOR WANTS YOU - smut
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Miyeon x Male Reader
one-shot
tags: blowjob, teasing, strangers tor lovers, first sex, ride, penetration, creampie
[Note: English is not my native language, So possible grammar errors and more rigid prose can be found in the text. But I ask that you give it a chance, if I don't give up on this, I will work hard, bringing longer and more effortful stories:)
This is the first version, I will eventually correct whatever is wrong.]
History:
The moving team worked very hard. Fortunately it would be a quick job. One of the many advantages of being a single and minimalist man: little furniture. Y/N helped the moving team by picking up the most delicate boxes that contained electronics and fragile objects. The neighborhood was beautiful on that calm afternoon, the golden sun radiated the green grass and the white fences of the houses on the street.
"Man, I'm going to love living here", thought Y/N, sighing with satisfaction.
He noticed that the neighboring house on the right had a beautiful flowerbed. Maybe it was a kind old lady who lived there. The whole flower and decoration thing indicated that. He still didn't know any of his neighbors. Y/N cut off his thoughts and returned to his task. It didn't take long to get everything inside the house, anyway.
The interior of the residence now had some furniture scattered throughout the rooms and several boxes that needed to be opened. Y/N wasn't in a hurry, he would do everything calmly, after all, it's not like visitors were going to show up anytime soon...
Well, he was wrong about that.
While he was drinking water, the doorbell rang, slightly startling him. Y/N really thought he was going to be completely alone, at least for the first few weeks until he adjusted to the neighborhood. The person at the door was probably one of the neighbors wanting to welcome him or something. Y/N was exhausted as hell, but he couldn't start things in this new city by ignoring people like that.
To his surprise, the one on the other side of the door was a beautiful young blonde. She holding a box of chocolate.
"Hello, new neighbor! I came to welcome you to the neighborhood." She said, quite excited.
The girl was wearing a red flowery dress that highlighted her small body.
"Hello! Are you one of my neighbors?"
"I'm the girl next door. I brought this to you." She handed him the box of chocolates.
"You didn't have to do that. Thank you very much. What's your name?"
"My name is Miyeon." She smiled at him. It was a charming smile.
"Y/N."
He reached out to shake her hand, but Miyeon pulled him into a hug. Y/N couldn't help but enjoy the heat her body emanated, the sweet scent was also delirious.
"I was watching you when you were bringing the furniture into the house." She revealed it to him.
"Serious?" Y/N questioned. "I did not see you."
"You seemed focused on the task."
"It must have been because of that. Are you, by any chance, the owner of that beautiful flower bed?"
"Yes! It's mine! I've been taking care of it for about two years. It's my greatest pride!" She told him, her little eyes sparkled with joy. "It's not very common for men to pay attention to flower beds and things like that. You're quite observant, Y/N."
"I think we both are."
Miyeon laughed, her cheeks flushed.
"I hope you like the chocolates."
"They look great."
"Do you have anything for dinner at your house?" Miyeon asked.
"Actually, I was thinking about ordering a pizza."
"Save the pizza for tomorrow. I can make you dinner at my house and bring it to yours. We both eat together. What do you think?"
Y/N quickly thought that: even if he was delirious with fever he would still be unable to refuse a proposal like that.
"If it's not too much trouble, I would love that."
"Me too! Then I'll see you later."
"I'll be waiting for you."
She said goodbye to him and went to her house.
He wasted no time getting ready. Y/N ran to the bathroom to take a well-deserved hot shower. In the shower he felt silly for being so excited about that dinner, he almost looked like a 15 year boy on first date. But Miyeon was a really beautiful and attractive woman, as well as incredibly friendly. He didn't expect a blessing like that to happen so suddenly on his first day in the new house. "Miracles happen," he thought. And also, after the last relationship, he deserved to breathe new air.
Breathe new women.
Y/N played poker on his laptop sitting on the sofa in the living room. The internet would only be turned on the next day, and he was starting to feel a bit of withdrawal from not being connected. But when deciding to leave the troubled capital, he should also get used to being a little offline. All the social media shit had been fucking with his brain for a while.
"I need to learn gardening or something.", he thought.
The doorbell again. And now Y/N didn't feel fear when he heard it, but rather excitement. Y/N took the notebook off his lap and placed it on the sofa, combed his hair a little more with his fingers and went to open the door.
"I hope you like lasagna!" Miyeon exclaimed, carrying a glass baking dish with both hands.
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Y/N barely managed to speak since he opened the door. She was dressed really provocatively, and acted like she didn't give a shit, totally casual. She had placed the lasagna on the kitchen counter. The two were sitting on the sofa. Miyeon was cross-legged, and the short skirt she was wearing wasn't able to hide even half of those juicy thighs.
"You're going to live alone, right?" She asked.
"Yes. Do you live alone too?"
"Correct. I used to live in the capital, but I got tired of the traffic, the people there, all the futility and stuff. My job luckily allows me to live anywhere I want."
"We're not much different then."
"You also lived in the capital?!" She asked, amazed.
"Exactly."
"Now I'm sure we'll get along great." Miyeon commented, and casually placed her hand on Y/N's knee.
It was soft and warm. A thought came over him and he imagined her sliding that hand to his thigh, and from his thigh to his groin. Just by vaguely imagining this scene, Y/N felt his dick harden inside his pants.
"You know, I was actually watching you move in. You caught my attention. In fact, I've seen you since you came here last month to look at the house." Miyeon's voice was no longer animated from before. It was now in a low and sweet tone. Sexy. "I hoped you would become my new neighbor."
"I think if I had seen you too, I would have moved here a lot quicker."
She smiled.
"You're sweet" Miyeon slid the hand that was on Y/N's knee to his thigh. "And naughty."
"Why you say that?"
"Because I can see your hard dick in your pants."
Y/N couldn't contain himself and placed his hand on Miyeon's thigh. The grip was so intense and sudden that she couldn't take it and let out a muffled moan.
"I can't control myself with you dressed like that" he said, looking intensely into her eyes.
"I don't want you to control yourself, darling." when she finished speaking she jumped into Y/N's lap. He grabbed her small waist and started kissing Miyeon on every corner of her face: cheek, mouth, chin and neck. She was totally surrendered, and felt between her legs how hard his dick was.
Y/n slid his fingers along the strap of Miyeon's crop top, feeling the soft texture of her skin under her eager touches. With a slow, deliberate movement, he lowered the strap and, to his surprise and delight, saw that she was not wearing a bra. Miyeon's small but perfectly formed breasts were exposed. Without hesitation, Y/N leaned forward and captured a nipple between his lips, sucking it voraciously as his tongue played with the sensitive tip. Miyeon arched her back in response, moaning loudly with the pleasure that coursed through her body. "Yes, baby!" she said between muffled moans.
"I love having my breasts sucked. They are sensitive. This makes me so excited." She commented, ecstatic.
As Y/N occupied himself with her tits, Miyeon felt more and more aroused, her breathing becoming heavier by the second. With hands shaking with desire, she got off Y/N's lap, her mind fixed on one thing: completely drooling over that hard, thick cock that was waiting for her. In one agile movement, she unbuttoned Y/N's pants, eager to taste what was underneath.
Miyeon played with Y/N, caressing the dick that was inside his underwear with desire. "Make him wet for me, baby," she begged, slyly. Miyeon started kissing Y/N's dick. The warm, soft lips through the cotton of his underwear gave him indescribable pleasure. "Keep going...argh!! This feels so, so good," he sighed. It didn't take long for the underwear to become damp where the glans of the cock was. Y/N let out an anticipatory moan when Miyeon released his dick. He breathed quickly when he felt the skillful caress of her lips wrapping around his cock, which was pulsing with excitement. Y/N's eyes closed instinctively, getting lost in the overwhelming sensations that Miyeon's mouth provided. Every suck, every moan of pleasure she made, every flick of her tongue, pushed him closer to the edge of absolute pleasure.
With a husky moan, Y/N pulled away from Miyeon before she made him cum, her eyes shining with lust as he made her stand. "Sit on the sofa and open your legs for me!", he ordered, and she smiled at the order. With eager hands, he lifted Miyeon's skirt, exposing her wet, pink pussy to him. Without hesitation, he dove between her legs, his tongue finding the right spot of pleasure that made her tremble with desire. Miyeon's moans echoed through the room, her mixing with the sound of wet and obscene movements that filled the air while stroking Y/N's hair.
Finally, momentarily satiated by the intensity of pleasure, Y/N sat down on the couch, her eyes burning with desire as he watched her hungry for more. With a husky, lust-filled voice, he ordered her to ride him, giving in completely to the desire that consumed them. Miyeon didn't need any further encouragement, riding Y/N with a ferocity that only increased the intensity of the pleasure they shared. Her pussy turned out to be very tight and incredibly delicious. The hip movements were incredible, the skirt was lifted to the waist, while the top was pulled down. It was beautiful the way she rode on his lap, so that Y/N didn't want to close his eyes just to see her moving smoothly and steadily on top of him.
"Daddy!" She blurted out of her mouth.
"Do you like riding your Daddy?!"
"I love it! I love it! I love it!" She moaned louder and louder.
"Just like that! Yeah! Such a good girl!"
"Argh! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Miyeon moaned following the rhythm of her hips going back and forth simultaneously. That was art!
"What you said before?" Y/N asked between moans and heavy breathing. "Your boobs are sensitive, right?"
Y/N took his back from the back of the sofa and hugged Miyeon. He could wrap his entire body around her, and that was delicious, because that was what he felt like doing with her: wrapping himself completely around Miyeon until he ejaculated.
Y/N grabbed Miyeon's waist and it was as if she already knew what he was going to do because she automatically arched her back so he could suck her boobs. This made her go crazy immediately. "So good..." she moaned. Miyeon started to ride faster as she became delirious with pleasure.
"Like this! Keep sucking my little tits, Daddy! Oh!How naughty you are! You suck so good!"
Y/N squeezed Miyeon's ass tightly while licking one of her nipples without stopping. She was moaning incredibly loudly.
"Slap my ass, Daddy!"
"Ask again!"
"Spank my ass, Daddy. Slap it until it turns red, please!" She screamed.
He slapped her while she rode frantically. Y/N was going crazy with so much pleasure.
"I'm going to cum!" He groaned in her ear.
"Cum inside me, baby! Let's cum together!"
"I can?"
"Yes! I'm taking the pills.
Y/N thrust her hips making her accelerate at a pace she had no control over.
"I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum!" She said.
"Cum for me!"
"I'm going to cum on your cock, Daddy!" She screamed, then wrapped her arms around Y/N's back, scratching him in the act.
Miyeon flexed her thighs on his lap as her pussy squirted, gyrating her hips and rolling her eyes in pleasure. Those movements involved all the sensitive receptors in Y/N's dick, and that was the end for him, cumming inside her, pressing Miyeon's body against him, while she said:
"How delicious! I feel your hot cum inside me... Uhhh!" Her entire body shook. "Now it was dripping..."
She remained astride him for a few moments longer, while cum slowly dripped down her pale thighs. Y/N kissed her, slowly and tenderly.
"That was amazing!" He said. His body was completely relaxed and the brain had reset itself. Little by little reality returned to his mind.
Miyeon got off his lap and it was a surprise for both of them to see that his dick was still a little hard.
"Can you handle another round later?" She asked, giving him a teasing look. "I haven't felt this hot for someone in a long, long time."
"We can have sex after dinner. Now I'm starving... Damn, the lasagna must have gotten cold!"
"Do you know what the second best thing is to sex?" She asked, trying to hide a laugh.
"Hmm, i don't think so."
"Microwave!"
26 notes · View notes
Text
𝙝𝙚𝙮, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨
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|| Picture: taken from google
|| Fandom: Extraordinary Attorney Woo
|| Pairings: Lee Jun-ho x Attorney!Reader
|| Setting: (made my own) Its before the trial. And the case Attorney!Reader is working with
|| Series, Oneshot, Blurb, Incorrect
|| Author's Note: Here! A request from an anon. I hope you like it.
|| Type: Mostly fluff, established relationship
|| Warning: TW! Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mentions of rape. TW! Please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable or triggers you in any way.
|| Minors Do Not Interact - MDNI
|| Story below the cut
It was a nerve-wracking day. It was the first day of the trial of one of your cases. You were the attorney for the victim, or more like the victim's mother. The case was about rape and murder. The victim's mother, Oh Soyeon, said that the victim's boyfriend, Min Keon was the one who raped and murdered her child, whose name was Oh Miyeon.
I looked out to see that we have already arrived at the court.
"Jagiya, we should get going. Its almost time." I heard a voice beside me.
"Oh. Jun-ho oppa (shush. dont mind this. -jae)." Yes. My boyfriend, Lee Jun-ho. He is a colleague of mine, which is actually how we met. It was my first day, and i spilled coffee on him, typical. Anyways, back to present time. "Im nervous. What if i cant being justice to Oh Miyeon?"
Jun-ho turned my head so that I was looking at him. "Jagi, hey, you got this. So stop worrying and lets go in alright. The trial will start in 30 minutes."
You looked at him, opened the car door, and said "Thank you for being in my life and supporting me. I love you."
*Time Skip* You and Jun-ho were now in the court room.
"Jagi!" You looked behind you to see Jun-ho mouth to you "hey, you got this."
|| Author's Note: Sorryyy..this was so awful TvT. Btw, Q&A is still open.
195 notes · View notes
kai-zip · 10 months
Text
Not so innocent
(Minnie x Miyeon)
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3rd POV
It has been confirmed that Nicha known as Kim Minnie would be attending a lesson on how to stop doing drugs.
Yes, you read that right. This woman has been addicted to drugs, since her parents died in a car crash she's been blaming herself for not being there. When her parents died, she was in Thailand for some business stuffs she had to do for her work. She didn't have any other choice.
Anyhow, her close friends tried to make her feel better, Seo Soojin and Jeon Soyeon. These two have been by her side since they were like 10 and 9 years old, interesting right? A friendship that last so long.
It was her first time being in this kind of group, people who used to do drugs or just stopped doing them, like her.
That's really a weird feeling.
Why do I have to be here?
I could do this alone.
Minnie thinks. Even though she's not actually telling the truth, she would be devastated if she would do this alone cause it'd end her up doing drugs again.
So why not find a new kind of drug? Which it won't be as bad as those pills.
As she get inside to this small room, there were people. Many people.
They stared at her, all eyes on her which made her so anxious. She gulped hardly and sat on a free chair.
She looked up, her eyes caught the most beautiful gaze and eyes she ever saw. Brown eyes, a bit rounded than hers yet so beautiful. Lips? So beautiful, not so big yet not so thin. They seemed very kissable. Body? God, so thin yet so beautiful. She's going crazy, she never saw a woman like her.
"Why don't you introduce yourself to the group, love?" the woman asks.
Minnie blinks twice after that she nods and stands up from her seat.
"M-My name's Nicha Yontararak, Kim Minnie in short. Uh.. I'm from T-Thailand and moved here seven years ago. I'm currently 25 years old." Minnie says while looking onto the ground.
"Very nice, then tell me Minnie why are you here?" the woman asks.
"W-Well, I have been troubled with taking drugs and it was the time for me to stop taking them. I want a better life for myself." Minnie confesses.
The woman smiles and claps.
"Very well, you're in the right place then. Let me introduce myself before we start, my name's Cho Miyeon, I'll be your drug counselor or therapist. You can always talk to me if you want privately. I am 26 years old and I am from Korea." Miyeon points out which made Minnie be more mesmerized by her charms as her smile for example.
Yeah, she definitely wants to get better now. She wants to attend this small group.
Definitely.
As she came back from that group therapy, she also got Miyeon's number if she ever needed to call her or text her during hard times.
She immediately called her best friend, Lalisa Manoban. She's also her Assistance.
"Lisa, my lord you won't believe what I did and who I met." Minnie says, panicking.
"Yo! Tell me everything, I got some time." Lisa says on the phone.
And that's how it starts with Minnie.
Attending every group therapy that's with Miyeon.
Every month is getting better, of course she has been having some panic attacks but as Miyeon told her, she could always call her if needed. So that's what she did.
These two never talked privately, though Minnie wanted to get to know her more. She knows it's not allowed so she waited until she'd be healed completely.
Good plan right? The only problem was that she wasn't sure if that woman had a boyfriend or even if she was into women like her. She had to do some research, no?
But how? She had to ask people if she knew her. But for now, she will focus on getting better.
We'll be skipping this after six months.
Minnie got better and is officially off with those pills.
It feels so nice and relieving. Finally, can go to work without any problems, her health is getting better than before.
And the awesome part? Jennie, Lisa's girlfriend new Miyeon. So it was something great, though she's single. Not bad.
She knew that this couple will be throwing a party for their anniversary so Minnie as well as Miyeon will be invited, of course she will attend this party. And she will look really good.
Thank god the party's today so her friends will also come with their partners. So enough mumbling and check Minnie's outfit.
Nice right? Quite the hottie as people would say in our generation.
She took some pictures of herself and smiled at herself.
Damn, I look good.
Minnie thinks to herself.
In fact she does look really good, in my opinion.
Lets skip to Miyeon's outfit, right?
We don't want to miss out.
Quite the princess yet hot. On her waist she's wearing a black skirt with a heart belt. Very fancy.
And so the party began.
Both women attended the party, both looking fancy in their own way. One too sport-ish and the other one too elegance and sexy.
What a taste, am I right?
Lisa hugged the younger woman. Welcoming her as well as her girlfriend. After that, Jennie saw Miyeon dancing with a couple of other women and grabbed gently her arm pulling her where Lisa and Minnie were.
"Look who I found!" Jennie yells because of the loud music.
"Oh my god! Hey Miyeon, what's up!" Lisa yells.
Miyeon smiles and hugs both girls, then she saw Minnie. Her expression was.. interesting. She was more like surprised yet happy to see the woman doing well.
"Hello, Nicha" Miyeon says.
It made the younger blush slightly, hearing the older calling her by her Thai name.
"Hey Miyeon, long time no see huh?" Minnie asks while smiling.
"Yeah, how have you been? You haven't been in the therapy for a month now. Are you doing well?" Miyeon asks as both girls walked to the kitchen where the drinks were as well as snacks.
"I'm doing great actually. Thanks to you of course, I've been doing great. I'm still having some issues but they're not as dangerous as it used to be. I'm getting through it. How have you been?" The younger asks.
"I've been doing okay. You know, I kinda miss it not having you there. You were like uh the light in the group. I'm happy you're doing great." Miyeon says and gave the younger a smile.
"Yeah.. I guess so. Well uhm.. you look very pretty tonight." Minnie gives a compliment to the older woman.
"Oh really? So I wasn't pretty yesterday or a month ago?" Miyeon asks making Minnie panic a bit.
With that expression made Miyeon laugh.
"N-No! I-I m-mean.. you always looked pretty! Just today you look a bit.. hotter than usual?" Minnie gulps, she doesn't want to fuck up right now.
"Oh?" That made Miyeon blush.
"Y-You think.. I'm hot?"
"Of course I do. Every day, every time I saw or see you. You never get less pretty." Minnie says as she took a step closer to the older woman.
"O-Oh.. w-why thank you, N-Nicha. I also think y-you're good looking." Miyeon stutters.
Minnie smirks and took another step closer to her, wrapping a hand around the latter's waist as her left hand was on the chin of the latter's.
"Look up, baby." Minnie whispers with her his key voice. That made Miyeon nervous but obeyed.
"You really do obey quickly, don't you?" Minnie asks, but did not get a respond.
For an answer, Miyeon kisses the Thai which she did not expect it. She immediately kisses her back, wrapping her other hand on the latter's neck as she pushes the latter closer to her.
Lips connected, biting each other's bottom lip, the make out session was indeed very hungry and tensed.
Minnie did not care if people were watching them, she wanted to kiss that woman for a long time now. There's nothing stopping her now.
She picked up the latter, sitting her on the kitchen counter as they keep kissing each other.
The Thai was leaving sloppy, yet wet kisses on the latter's neck making the older woman groan from pleasure as she wrapped her legs around the Thai's waist.
That drove the younger woman crazy, she looked up at the older woman as they both made an eye contact.
"Let's go to my car, shall we?" Minnie whispers near the older's ear. Miyeon just nodded, with that Minnie picked her up walking towards the exit door. She opened it and stepped outside as she closed the door behind her.
She took out her car keys, walking towards her car. Opened the door from the back seats, laid Miyeon as she went on top of her as she closed the door and locked the car doors again.
"You're mine for the night." Minnie whispers.
"Oh yeah? Says who?" Miyeon teases.
"Says me. You'll be mine for now and for the rest of our lives, princess." Minnie says which made Miyeon smile.
"Hm, I like that idea. Let's do it." Miyeon says as she trails her hand on Minnie's adidas long jacket.
She pushes the younger to sit as she gets on her lap.
"My body belongs to you for today, Nicha~" Miyeon whispers near to the younger's ear as she slowly grinds onto the Thai's thigh.
"Mmm, I like how that sounds baby." Minnie places her hands onto the older's waist as her hands follows the rhythm of her hips.
Miyeon slowly took her own light jacket off, still grinding onto the Thai's thigh making her moan softly.
"N-Nicha" she moans near Minnie's ear.
Fuck. Minnie thinks.
Minnie wanted so badly to touch her but was so worried that people would be able to take pictures of them.
Ugh, I don't care. Why am I overthinking while she's being a mess on my lap?
Get it together Nicha!
With that, she harshly pushes Miyeon down as she's on top of her and her hand between her thighs.
Minnie rubs the older's inner thigh making her groan.
"You like that? Being all slutty to your old patient?" Minnie asks with her husky voice making Miyeon more wet as she was before.
"N-No.. only when it comes to you. You make me lose my mind." Miyeon says and with that Minnie was taking already off the older's underwear.
"We don't need that now, do we?" Minnie asks as Miyeon shakes her head.
"Good. Now be a good girl and enjoy it for as long as you can." Minnie says as she slowly kisses Miyeon's stomach down to her thighs while she was still wearing the skirt.
She pushed two fingers inside the older unexpectedly, which caught the older by surprise and made her moan loudly. Minnie pushed the skirt a bit up, making more room for her to spread the older's legs. Which she successfully did, she brought her face near the wet core of the older woman's and started licking her clit while thrusting her finger harshly into the older.
The older was a moaning mess, she harshly grabbed onto the younger's hair. She felt how the Thai's tongue swirled and moving, every movement of her fingers and tongue. It was an amazing feeling, she couldn't explain the butterflies yet the hotness she and her body was feeling right now.
"N-Nicha! Oh my god!" Miyeon moans loudly as she arches her back and biting her lip harshly.
That made the Thai smirk as she thrust her finger harder, making the latter's body shake a lot. She knows that the woman was close, already.
It didn't stop her though, she inserted another finger. Three in total. Which made the latter moan louder and pull her hair hard.
"F-Fuck!" Miyeon groans, pushing the younger's face closer to her wet core.
Minnie liked how messy the latter is when it comes to having an intimate moment with her. She wants to have that more with her and she will.
After a second the latter released which made the Thai take a last lick and take her fingers off.
"Suck them." The Thai says to the latter.
Miyeon obeyed and tried carefully to get a bit up, she put Minnie's fingers into her mouth and sucked them. She was tasting herself.
"It's sweet, isn't it?" The Thai asks.
The latter nods as she keeps sucking onto the Thai's fingers.
"I want to taste you every day. And I will, you're mine baby. My princess, my good girl." Minnie says as she takes her fingers out slowly leaving a saliva connected to the latter's mouth.
"Mmm.. yes I am." Miyeon says. She can't lie right now, she really liked it. Owning her. Especially a woman like Minnie.
"And I am yours. Is that a deal, sweetheart?" Minnie asks as she makes Miyeon sit on her lap which the latter did.
Both of the cuddled each other for a bit.
"It's a deal baby." Miyeon says and kisses Minnie's cheek.
Both smiled like idiots, Minnie knew she had to drive back home but she wanted to stay like this for a while.
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dogsongy · 2 years
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Good Boy~ Series Masterlist
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Masterlist- Series masterlist - Ch.1 - Ch.2 - Ch.3 - Ch.4 - Ch.5 - Ch.6 - Ch.7 - Ch.8 - Ch.9 - Ch.10 - Ch.11 - Ch.12 - Ch.13 - Ch.14 - Ch. 15 - Ch.16 - Ch.17 - Ch.18 - Ch.19 - Ch.20 -
Summary: Miyeon opens a dog cafe with her 5 dogs and two handsome young men happen to come in on opening day.
Pairing: Yunho x reader (named Miyeon) x Mingi
Genre: fluff for the most part
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Ah this is my first series story so let me know how it is ! Hopefully I'm doing this right.
*Also none of the pictures im using are mine*
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yujinniw · 9 months
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MIDNIGHT RAIN — KTR | 03-perfect image
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2:11 am, it was cold and rainy surprisingly in the summer. I felt everything crushing down on me. If it was work, family, scandals? It was just too much, I and lots of others are not machines, we cannot do everything perfectly like they want us to. But the only thing I can do is smile and act as if nothing has ever happened, Even if I try there will be so many shits that I don't want other's to handle because of me.
So here I am, finding it amusing how such a big tourist attraction could feel so empty for once. But damn FOR ONCE MAN thank you rain! It was nice taking all that fresh air in, feeling the warm breeze hitting my skin was not too fun but hey it is the summer, unless you live in the UK or something.
I was just minding my own business until, I saw this dude coming closer to where I was. His hair was messy, kinda looked like he just got up from a nightmare, Yikes. But I couldn't see his face, he was wearing a mask. '....masks of course, the people with the hottest hair always wear a mask.' I thought to myself 'How am I supposed to know if you're really hot or not..'
'Should I go talk to him?' 'No chae miyeon, privacy.' I slapped myself to reality. But I think it was kinda too loud considering how he suddenly turned his head my direction. 'great. JUST GREAT.' All those thoughts were gone as soon as I heard a tired voice saying; "Are you okay?" I tilted my head up to looked at him 'SHIT. what am I supposed to reply with. Yea yea I'm fine, no you looked like you fell down from heaven itself. okay.... why was that even an option.'
"Yea, just thought there was a mosquito." WOW such a great answer congratulations. He just nodded before sitting down beside me 'FUCK HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO ACT MORE NORMAL NOW YOU'RE NEXT TO ME.' hold up. act I can act FOR FUCK SAKES.
"Why are you awake and up here so late." He asked me before I could... "Just needed some fresh air. what about you?" "Needed to clear my mind." same bitch, same. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?" He asked, which caught me off guard "Oh I do mind." WHAT THE HECK! NO NO THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!! "Oh... sorry then" he responded while scratching the nape of his neck. Miyeon Chae, This is the result of your action take responsibility
"Depends on what you're going to do with them," "Keep it to yourself? Sell it on the black market. I don't know." I retorted back. Should I tell him my real name? should I lie? Decision making should not be anywhere near me.. BUT back to reality, He chuckled at my words and responded with "Yes... I will sell it on the black market. Now give me your name." "Woww such a creep..." OMG WHAT IF HE IS A CREEP.
"No actually, do you mind if I get your name?" Right... my name... "Miyeon, Chae Miyeon" I said holding my hand out to his "As in the Actor? Or a normal person" Hah.. this bitch. " Don't know whatever you think I guess." He laugh while shaking my hand. "Kim Taerae."
If I'm being honest, His hand was huge. Would probably have me flying from one slap with that hand. But then I looked back to what he said was his name, Kim Taerae. I looked up to meet his covered face. Gorgeous eyes babes. But the hair, face shaped and hand. did match the description of the ZB1 Kim Taerae.
Eyes widened when I come back to my senses that this gorgeous looking dude right here, who still has my hand in his. Could actually be Kim Taerae Zerobaseone.. I took my hand away " I should probably get going..." "It was nice meeting you." I said quickly before running to my car. yes I drove here...
"I'm done for."
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sypnosis : One of the many famous actress was spotted at a park holding hands with their boyfriend, which was rumored to be Chae Miyeon, and Kim Taerae of Zerobaseone.
a/n: Really feeling like writing today woke up at 4 am and decided yk what I'm going to write the whole of chapter 3😖 ANYWAYSSS THEY MET or did they ykyk😶
donate to the poor | masterlist | ahah..
tag-list: @sparklingsjy, @xinxinyy,@wtfhyuck
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warm-cat-hika · 1 month
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«hot summer days and hot you»
pairings: nonidol!Cho Miyeon x fem!reader
tags: fluff, slight dirty talks, strangers to lovers, established relationship
synopsis: you decide to say “yes” to change and fly to another country, literally after a couple of days realizing that it’s difficult for you here and you need to return home. finally, you decide to go to the beach and see the sea. an unexpected meeting decides everything, because now at least you have pleasant company.
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a/n: that's my first time writing in tumbr. I don't know much "slang" you all use, so it would be good if you can lmk if i made some mistakes or something like that.
after the third day of your stay in south korea, you decided to go to the beach, because you loved sea since childhood and thought that at least it would brighten up the boredom of these days and the disappointment that you experienced. of course, korea is a good country, but apparently for you, without special knowledge of the language and a guidebook, it is not. the fourth day came, the time at which you finally got out of your apartment was 13:14, you were in a light summer dress, because it was the middle of July, you were wearing sandals and a beautiful pedicure. having somehow reached the beach, you mentally cursed everyone you could for your long and difficult journey just to see the sea. you didn’t have many things with you, just a light, small handbag. finally feeling the promised breeze, you smiled slightly and closed your eyes until your first moment of pleasure this week was interrupted by a rather loud female voice.
“miss, excuse me, am I not distracting you?”
you again mentally insulted and hexed the owner of this voice and the buzz-breaker.
"no, do you need something?"
finally opening your eyes, you saw these innocent eyes, the girl’s appearance exactly reminded you of a quokka, but now you’re not in such a good mood to pay attention to it.
"I just wanted to ask if you could take some pics for my instagram?"
“sure” - you said with a sigh.
her eyes lit up and a sweet and sincere smile formed on her face, the way she handed you her phone so easily, as if you couldn’t just take it and run, what kind of naivety? okay, you didn't look like a thief to be honest, your appearance was cute, but your personality wasn't, which usually made people disappointed, oh well, they were just being sissies. you're not gonna open up to a stranger on the beach, are you? you already bought a ticket back for tomorrow. snapback from your thoughts to reality, you pointed the camera at the girl, you have to admit, her red hair suited her, didn't it? a minute of posing and shooting, the girl was already looking at the finished pictures on her phone with surprised sighs, and you didn’t know whether she liked it or vice versa.
"how lovely!"
you managed to smile to yourself, but she added right after.
"I'm so pretty!"
here your smile disappeared, this narcissism shuddered you a little, but if she really is a beauty, then why argue?
“these pictures are beautiful just like me, are you a photographer?” - she looked up at you slightly smiling.
"kinda"
"«kinda»"?
you can tell there was interest in her gaze.
“It’s more like a hobby” - you answered.
"ahh, I see, I see. I must admit, you're a charming stranger. may I know your name?" - she said narrowing her eyes a little and biting her lip for a second as she walked closer to you.
“i’m flying out tomorrow so i guess there’s no point in this, but thanks”
you took a step back and smiled slightly.
"are you leaving? where?"
the smile disappeared from her face, she was surprised, as if you were her childhood friend who was moving to another place forever.
“I’m not local. I’m flying home tomorrow, so I don’t think we can get to know each other, I’m not into a long-distance friendship”
“oh, well... there’s still time until tomorrow, right? Let’s just chat, I’m not against friendship for one day, with such a cute girl"
"okay, I'm still bored. I don't like south korea"
"you don't like it, why?"
“everything is too complicated”
“do you live by yourself?”
“yes. the holidays here didn’t turn out to be fun just because of this, I thought I’d rest here for at least two weeks, this is the fourth day, I’m already dying of boredom.”
“maybe it’s because you don’t have a guide? I’m local, maybe if you had met me earlier, your vacation would've been more fun. I would've shown you everything, told you what and how, and we would've had fun.”
“maybe, but I only came to the beach today”
“I’m not always only on the beach, fine, are you sure you’re leaving tomorrow? can’t you cancel anything?”
“I bought a ticket already”
“oh, that’s sad...” but was it really possible to cancel everything for the sake of a stranger whom you don’t really trust? you don't even know her name.
“wait, I still haven’t introduced myself, I’m sorry I’m so stupid, my name is Cho Miyeon, to you it’s just Miyeon. can I ask your name or do you still think there’s no point in this?”
"my name is y/n"
"y/n? cute name... how old are you, y/n?"
"21 years old, what about you?"
“turned 27 years old a few months ago” you were a little surprised by this information, because Miyeon didn’t look her age, the red-haired girl noticed your expression and asked with a slight chuckle,
“too old?”
“no, not really, you just don’t look like you're 27 years old”
“people tell me this often... so how about I show you Incheon? it’s my hometown by the way”
“okay, but you’ll really be walking around the city in this?"
“of course not, I took a change of clothes with me, now I’ll go to the changing room, promise not to peek?” - she said with a teasing tone and a smirk.
you rolled your eyes jokingly with a small smile.
“as if I need it, go change"
she just laughed a little and went with her bag to the changing room on the beach, you were waiting for her, admiring the beach and the sea itself, apparently not everything was so bad. after a couple of quick minutes, she touched your shoulder, whispering in your ear.
"well... shall we go, princess?"
turning around and frowning a little, you said “princess?” with a little chuckle.
“you’re cute and luxurious, just like a princess”
“fine... where are we going?”
“in different places, get up, little one”
you just tsked, but stood up, following her. during ten minutes walk to the city, you started talking more and you found out that she also lives on her own and has friends from different countries, and Miyeon also learned some things about you.
for today, you're lucky that Miyeon became your guide, she kindly explained everything and told about this country, people and traditions, she treated you to some dishes and bought cute things like beads to later weave bracelets, plushies and cool drinks on a hot day. you were grateful that she didn’t force you to spend all your money, but paid for you literally everywhere and for everything where you pointed your finger at, she kindly walked with you, taking your hand when you crossed the roads, explaining that “in Incheon, the cars are rushing like crazy,” although it was just an excuse to hold your hand, for the sake of this she could lie.
the hours passed and in the evening you went into a restaurant, drink a little bit of wine and eat delicious steaks.
"do you live far from here?"
“uh-huh, it costed me a lot just to get to the beach”
“what language did you speak in the taxi?”
“i showed from the translator”
“then everything is clear, come with me, I will provide you with a quick trip home”
“thank you, you're so sweet”
“shut up”
you tilted your head a little.
“not in a rude way, shut up in a gentle way. shut up, darling”
you burst into laughter “what kind of “darling” am I to you?”
she also laughed. “during this day you managed to become my darling, I’m crazy about you, y/n. you’re so sweet and sincere, and not stupid at all. do you have a boyfriend?”
“no, I don’t have a boyfriend”
“then... a girlfriend?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend either”
“I’m also single”
“so it’s fate?” - you said slightly in a light and sarcastic tone with a smile on your face
“exactly, my sweet y/nnie”
again, she calls you as if you're already close people.
“let me take you home, we’ll order a taxi and I’ll make sure that the taxi driver doesn’t make the journey too difficult and knows that at least I’m local and i know their schemes”
“okay, I’ll pay for the taxi-”
“don’t even think about it, I’ll pay for you. I want you to have pleasant memories of your stay here"
"well... thank you, Miyeon"
the alcohol had already affected the two of you, but you didn’t drink much, Miyeon was also watching over this, so that tomorrow at the airport and on the plane you wouldn’t get sick bad, although she wanted to convince you to stay with her, but isn’t she caring? you need to look for those like her.
getting into the taxi, Miyeon asked you where you live and then she explained to the taxi driver in korean where we're going, fortunately this time he didn’t choose other routes that would take longer to get home, thank Miyeon later. you were already falling asleep during the ride, so you laid your head on her shoulder, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes. she gently wrapped her arm around you and lightly kissed the top of your head, you barely felt it from fatigue and drunkenness, but it was so pleasant, as if your mother was next to you. Cho gently stroked your hair and held you tighter as the car turned, pulling you closer to her until your head fell onto her chest. she gasped slightly, but continued to stroke your hair, even the tipsy Miyeon had a very nice smell and a warmth emanated from her that warmed your body. 30 minutes later you arrived and Miyeon took you in her arms, then began to quietly wake you up
“baby, wake up, we’ve arrived”
her voice was like honey to your ears and you didn’t want to wake up, but she slightly shook you, although she herself was already falling into dream. finally, you opened your eyes and stood up, taking out the keys and standing on the threshold, you turned to her
“what about a hug? didn’t you like this day with me?” - she whined a little sleepily.
you let out a short, quiet laugh and walked over, diving into her arms, mumbling into her chest
“of course I did, thank you so much for this day, Miyeon-ah”
she looked down sleepily at the ground, hugging you back then leaving a small kiss on the top of your head again
“maybe you won't fly anywhere tomorrow, and you'll stay with me instead? at least for a couple of weeks, please... I'm not ready to part with you"
you raised your head to her to look a little sadly into her eyes and pat her head, saying
"I’ve already spent the money... I can’t just cancel everything”
“I’ll reimburse you for it. I’ll reimburse you for the money you spent and you’ll stay with me, okay? just stay with me.”
the next morning, your doorbell rang, somehow dressed and running to the door from the second floor, you saw Miyeon in the peephole and opened the door for her
“good morning, little one, can I come in?”
“good morning, come in”
letting her into your apartment, you made coffee for Miyeon and yourself and put it on the table where she was already sitting
“thank you, honey”
she smiled at you and stroked your arm, you sat down next to her
“so why did you come?"
“I’ve come to resolve the issue with your flight. I can reimburse you the money and you’ll just hand over your ticket. since you have less than a day left before departure, you’ll be charged a fine, but I’m going to pay that too, so you won’t lose anything, okay, y/n?"
“no, it’s not okay, you paid for everything yesterday, and today you’ll pay three times more, that’s too much money, there’s no need to reimburse anything. I’ll just fly home, no big deal. maybe you’ll fly to me someday, too and everything will be fine"
"y/n... please. I'm ready to pay any amount just for you to stay with me, it may sound stupid because we only met yesterday, but still, give me a chance, don't fly away... I want to be with you, here”
after a couple of minutes of silence you say
“okay, but don’t spend your money on me anymore, I’m not a poor student”
“thank you, honey, I’m so glad...”
she immediately hugged you and pressed you close to her body. you hugged her back and then broke the hug, pulling back. it was approaching evening, when you had already solved all your problems. now you are at her apartment after shopping, finally for at least part of your money, she paid for everything else after several attempts at your begging and even threats “if you pay for me here too, you won’t have a living place left” this made Miyeon laugh a little, but she ended up paying some of it. now you were lying on her bed, watching the movie "The Great Gatsby" and eating snacks and healthier foods. randomly you had a pillow fight and you laughed while lying on the bed after that. in the movie the song “Young and Beautiful” by Lana Del Rey started playing and you exchanged glances.
«Hot summer nights, mid-July
When you and I were forever wild
The crazy days, city lights
The way you'd play with me like a child.»
Miyeon then said
"hot summer days and hot you"
"why am I hot?"
"you have a rideable face. I'd ride"
"oh, really? what kind of talk went on?"
"I'm just kidding"
"thank god."
and so several weeks passed, you spent time together and knew a lot about each other, had fun and even went through difficulties, every day was different from the previous one, there was a feeling that months have passed, but now the time has come to fly away, she promised you that she will fly to you asap.
now you were already together at the airport, she stood in front of you, hugging you tightly and later leaned over to say with a small smile
“you know what? during these best weeks of my life you made my heart beat so often that now I would do so that absolutely all hearts in the universe would beat only for you, my dear y/nnie. I did the impossible for you, and you know, I didn’t regret it. you’re an amazing girl and so don’t be surprised that you captured my heart."
she kissed your lips tenderly and softly for a couple of seconds and pulled away, saying softly and warmly, with a small smile
“I love you, baby, and I want to be with you always, no matter what. I want you to become my girlfriend”
from all these events and words, your heart beat incredibly fast, and all the time when she called you cute pet names, you thought that these were false hopes and that she was like that with everyone, but always between her friends she made you a priority and took care of you. it seems that she was an excellent option for you, these supposedly “casual” touches and the look in her eyes, this said that now she wasn't lying. you realized this almost immediately, so you leaned in and kissed her lips a little longer than she did the first time, then pulling away, she asked with a small laugh
“does that mean yes?”
“yes. I love you too, Yeonnie. promise me that you will come.”
“I promise, princess, I'll definitely come and be with you, you won't realise how fast it will happen."
and she actually arrived a few weeks later. you're happy that you were able to find true love in unexpected circumstances. now you live together and it seems that this decision was the right one.
happy end?
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warm-cat-hika © only on tumblr
୨⎯ thank you for reading!⎯୧
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mi-rae07 · 10 months
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Song Mingi : Chance (Part 2/3)
Pairing : Song Mingi (Ateez) and named character (Jung Miyeon)
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Miyeon opened the door to her house, mingi still grunting against her at every small movement. She stepped inside her house before closing it behind them, bringing mingi to the living room before laying him down on the couch. She hoped minho and minji were asleep. Because she had zero idea as to how she could explain anything to either of her kids, or mingi if they were to see each other.
Miyeon : stay here, I'll bring the first-aid kit.
Mingi nodded as miyeon rushed to a nearby cabinet, trying to find the first aid kit. Soon she was sitting next to mingi on the sofa, cleaning up his wound and taking care of it with the utmost care. Mingi just continued staring at miyeon all throughout it, not knowing what to say.
Miyeon : was this another fight of yours? One that you do not want to explain?
Mingi bit his lips, looking at his wound before saying
Mingi : something like that. I just…I was walking around the street with no protection whatsoever, I should've expected this to happen.
Miyeon : why were you walking alone in the streets at this time of the night then?
Because he felt suffocated back at home.
Mingi : I just wanted fresh air.
Miyeon : well, now you've definitely got it.
Mingi : miyeon.
Miyeon : yes.
Mingi : have you been happy?
Miyeon looked up at mingi, her hands pausing whatever it was doing.
Mingi : it's been 7 years, I just wanted to know whether you're living a happy life now.
Miyeon : I am living a happy life, mingi.
Mingi smiled, nodding his head.
Miyeon : and you? Are you-
Mingi : leading a happy life? Miyeon, I do not even know if I am leading a life, let alone a happy one. It is why I said you should leave me, so that you wouldn't have to lead such an unhappy life as mine. I-
Minho : eomma?
Miyeon's eyes widened at that, a frown falling on mingi's face as it dawned upon him that he was right after all. Miyeon did have kids now.
Minho : who…is this ahjussi?
Mingi : ahjussi? I'm only 34-
Miyeon : he's my patient.
Both minho and mingi's face contorted into a frown that was hilariously similar.
Mingi : patient?
Minho : patient?
The both of their heads turned to face each other as they said the same word together, a small glare on both their eyes. Miyeon sighed, giving mingi a look before saying
Miyeon : yes, patient.
Minho : since when did you start bringing patients home? What ever happened to hospitals?
Miyeon : this one…is special, you can say.
Minho eyed mingi up and down before saying
Minho : he does not look special.
Mingi : yah!
Minji : what is going on?
Miyeon shut her eyes tightly, mingi letting out a breath as he leaned against the sofa exasperatedly
Mingi : how many of these are going to keep coming out?
Miyeon sighed and stood up, bringing both minho and minji close to her before saying
Miyeon : mingi, meet minji and minho. And the both of you, this is song mingi, my patient.
Mingi stared at minji for a long second, making her frown. And that was when miyeon realized with a start, minji was very much like mingi in her facial features. Fuck, she hadn't thought of that.
Mingi : how…old are they?
Miyeon : mingi-
Minji : also eomma, why does he look so similar to our appa that you mentioned?
Mingi let out a shaky breath and stood up, buttoning up his shirt before walking towards the door. Miyeon cursed under her breath and turned towards the kids before saying hurriedly
Miyeon : minho-ya, minji-ya, go back to your rooms and sleep, okay? You have school tomorrow.
Before either of them could say anything, miyeon ran towards the outside of her house, her eyes landing on mingi who was walking away hastily. Miyeon ran towards him, calling out his name.
Miyeon : mingi stop! Listen to me!
Mingi : yeah? About how you hid my children from me for 7 whole years?
Miyeon : wow, so you're blaming me now?
Mingi paused on his tracks, turning around to face miyeon as he asked
Mingi : who else am I supposed to blame then?
Miyeon : yourself! You're the one who abandoned us, song mingi! You're the one who asked me to leave!
Mingi : I did not know you were pregnant, miyeon!
Miyeon : YOU DID NOT EVEN BOTHER TRYING, MINGI! YOU…you said I was a burden to you. How do you think that made me feel, huh?
Mingi looked away, running his hand along his hair.
Miyeon : just stay away from us.
Mingi : what-
Miyeon : you said you never wanted children, you said you were never going to have a family. So then do it. Pretend we do not exist.
Miyeon turned around and left, not giving mingi a chance to say anything more.
______________________________
Minho : is he our father?
Miyeon choked on the breakfast she was having, minji quickly giving her a glass of juice as she smiled. God, what even were these kids.
Minho : try not to choke this time, eomma. Is song mingi our father?
Miyeon sighed, keeping the juice away before saying
Miyeon : he is.
There was no point in hiding anything from them now. Her lies had all crumbled down the second her kids had seen mingi.
Minji : then why did he run away from us?
Miyeon : he didn't.
Minji : he did.
Miyeon let out a breath in resignation. It was hard to win against song minji.
Miyeon : fine, he did. But that's not because he doesn't love you, it's because he doesn't love me.
Minho : he's stupid if he doesn't love you, eomma.
Minji : and you can't say he loves us either. The guy barely even knows us.
Miyeon : you're his children. Love is something that comes naturally towards your own children.
Minho : then bring him home, eomma. We can finally be a happy family, can't we?
Miyeon : min-ah, it's more complicated than just that.
Minho sighed, going back to eat his breakfast. He had said what he wanted to say. He hadn't been immune to jealousy when he watched other kid's fathers picking them up from school, or playing with them at the park. His mother was wonderful, but she couldn't replace a father.
Minji : we want an appa too, especially when that appa is right in front of us. And eomma, you need someone by your side as well. You've done all this alone for so long, I wish you could have someone that you can lean on sometimes as well.
Miyeon pressed her lips together, looking back at her food before whispering
Miyeon : I wish so too.
____________________________
Jongho : sir, there's someone who wishes to meet you.
Mingi : jongho-ya, if they have an appointment-
Jongho : no this is…Jung Miyeon-shi.
Mingi's eyes widened in shock as jongho sighed and opened the door wider for miyeon to step in. she had decided all this last night, that she was going to give minho and minji their appa no matter what.
Miyeon : hello.
Mingi stared at miyeon as jongho closed the door behind miyeon, her walking towards mingi before saying
Miyeon : you must be wondering why I'm here.
Mingi : yes I am, especially when you asked me to forget you existed.
Miyeon sighed, sitting down on the seat opposite mingi's.
Miyeon : well, my…our children, disagree with my opinions, unfortunately.
Mingi : they aren't our children, are they? You raised them alone. I do not think I deserve the title of their father.
Miyeon : mm. Which is why you must earn it.
Mingi : miyeon-
Miyeon : I do not care about your work, mingi. These are my children, and I want their happiness first and foremost. And if their happiness lies with you, then you must do what is required. You are their father, even if you never wanted to be one. It takes two to make a child, so please. Talk with minho and minji, get to know them.
Mingi : and you? Us?
Miyeon : us, doesn’t exist anymore does it? You said it yourself.
Mingi sighed, leaning back against his chair before whispering
Mingi : fine, fine I'll do it.
____________________________
Mingi was now sitting in a café with minho and minji, the both of them staring at him with pure scrutiny. His eyes weren't so much different either. Miyeon sighed.
Miyeon : we did not come here for a staring competition.
Minho : what do you work as?
Minji : please tell me you're not unemployed.
Mingi : I am not unemployed?? I…run a company.
Minji : so he's unemployed.
Mingi : I am NOT-
Minho : I can’t believe we have a jobless man for a father. Eomma, come on-
Mingi : yah! I actually run a company!
Before either of them could say anything, mingi pulled out his business card, putting it on the table for the kids to see. They scrutinized it for a few minutes, and then leaned back against the chair. Damn, mingi thought. Why were these 7-year-olds so intimidating?
Minho : so you're a mafia.
Mingi : yes, sort of.
Minho : that's why you were wounded the other day.
Mingi : yes.
Minji : so what if someone hurts us because of you? Eomma, this man is dangerous-
Mingi : no one's going to hurt any of you. I won’t let that happen.
Minji : you better.
Mingi stared at his kids with shocked eyes, looking back at miyeon who sighed and nodded before saying
Miyeon : this is what you gotta deal with, song mingi.
____________________________
A month later :
Mingi had never done something so hard, and he had never thought he would either. Things came easy to him ever since birth, his parents were both super rich, and he went to a luxurious school where everyone listened to him no matter what. Song minji and song minho were completely different, however. And although in some ways they reminded mingi of himself and miyeon, god were they infuriating.
Sometimes mingi would want to throw them off han river, and sometimes he would almost want to cry realizing how much of them he had missed, and the things he could do for his own children. For some reason, that side of him came almost naturally. The desire to protect his children, and give them all his love until he took his last breath.
But it had been a month, and safe to say, things were getting better. At least a little bit. Minho seemed less questioning towards mingi and minji was less hostile now. Miyeon remained the same, however, cold and bland towards mingi. But to her children? She was amazing.
Mingi was now washing dishes along with miyeon in her house, the kids already having gone to sleep.
Mingi : do you think they would ever actually…like me?
Miyeon : they already like you, mingi. It's just that they have a hard time showing it since you're new to them. They've gotten that from you, minji's hostility and minho's protectiveness.
Mingi : and if I hadn't left at all? If I'd have stayed with you?
Miyeon sighed, keeping the plates away. God knows the amount of times she herself had thought about that question.
Miyeon : well. Then I suppose things would've turned out different. But it's not like we'll ever know, is it?
Miyeon turned around and froze as she realized mingi was right behind her, the proximity between them too close. Except his eyes, they looked…scared.
Miyeon : mingi.
Miyeon blinked as mingi's breathing started to quicken, his hands clenching on his sides as he said
Mingi : I don’t wanna go back home, please don't ask me to go back home, miyeon.
Miyeon : mingi, what-
Mingi : I can't, miyeon. My mother she's…she keeps asking me to do these things…I-
Miyeon suddenly felt anger filling her body. What had that woman done to him.
Miyeon : what things? What does she ask you to do, mingi?
Mingi shook his head, holding miyeon's hand as he whispered
Mingi : I don’t wanna be a mafia anymore. You were right, god, you were always so right and I was utterly fucking wrong. I can't kill people and laugh at their state, yeon-ah, and I…I don't wanna do this anymo-
Mingi cut himself off as his breathing got even heavier, stepping back shakily as he blinked his eyes to stop the tears from clouding his vision.
Miyeon : mingi?
Miyeon's eyes widened as mingi lowered himself to the floor, tears forming in his eyes.
Miyeon : oh no no no.
Miyeon quickly bent down and held mingi's arm, forcing him to look at her as she said urgently
Miyeon : don't close your eyes, mingi you're going to be fine.
Mingi : I-I can't breathe, miyeon. Am I-am I dying-
Miyeon : no! no no, you're just having a panic attack. It's going to be fine, just breathe for me.
Mingi gasped for breath, holding onto miyeon as tears streamed down his eyes. What was happening to him so suddenly. This wasn't supposed to ever happen, mingi thought.
Mingi : I-I can't.
Miyeon cupped mingi's cheeks, making him look at her with wide teary eyes. Was that…worry in her eyes? Someone actually worried for me, mingi thought.
Miyeon : you can. You can breath, you have to trust me.
Mingi slowly followed miyeon in breathing normally, finally regaining his composure after a few minutes. Mingi crashed into miyeon's arms right after, sobbing against her shoulders as she felt his entire body tremble in her hold. Miyeon felt her heart drop at the state mingi was in right now, she realized he was hiding from her.
Mingi : pl-please help me. Please take me out of this mess, yeon-ah.
Miyeon patted mingi's back, holding him close to her as she kissed the top of his head with teary eyes. She was going to kill song jina.
Miyeon : shh, I won't let anyone hurt you, love. You're going to be okay.
___________________________
Tag-list : @curly-fr13s @jeongintwt @jamia-wilson @aloverga @treasure-hwa @dandycharmer @channiesbum @bigzaddydwaekki  
____________________________
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willowhush · 2 months
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hello earth-lings! my name is charlotte millicent, you may call me ‘charlotte’ or any other nicknames of your choice. i’m an INFP who goes by she/her pronouns and a scorpio who is already on her legal age.
read this first!
i do not welcome anyone who follows me without any consent or following me first, unless — i have replied to your friendship offer before, you already asked me for a permission to follow me first, or i have known you before on my other account. anyone who does not fit these criteria will be soft-blocked.
fun facts about me:
i’m a huge fan of movies, especially thriller, crime, true crime documentaries, mystery, horror, comedy, action-comedy, romance and romcom. some of my favorite movies are coraline, mean girls, white chicks, clueless, 21 jump street, baywatch, red notice, legally blonde, black swan, the conjuring universe, robert langdon franchise, kong skull island, the notebook, a walk in the clouds, fifty shades trilogy and before trilogy.
other than that, i also love watching cartoons and barbie films. some of my favorite cartoons are oggy and the cockroaches, tom and jerry and spongebob. for barbie films, my favorite is barbie princess charm school. the others are barbie the princess and the pop star, barbie in a mermaid tale, barbie and the three musketeers, barbie a fairy secret and barbie in the pink shoes.
i adore rapunzel so much, my forever favorite disney princess. tmi, i even sang the theme song of rapunzel's movie, "i see the light" for a school project, and it has been one of my favorite song ever since i was a kid.
i'm a huge fan of mcu, my favorite mcu character is loki (my fav ever since i was little, i literally cried so hard at the cinema when he d word at avangers infinity war), other than him i also like eric killmonger, thor, hela, spiderman (tobey maguire ver), phoenix, professor x, quicksilver and magneto. for mcu movies/series i like avangers endgame, all thor movies, black panther, x-men apocalypse and the loki series.
i watch youtube literally everyday, my comfort youtubers are kennedy walsh (loml), sydney serena, thewizardliz, nessie judge (i love her true crime contents so much) and ozley asmr.
i’m a huge fan of cooking shows! some of my favorites are kitchen nightmares, hell’s kitchen, and master chef. these shows mostly feature gordon ramsay and i really love his shows, beside those 3 cooking shows i also enjoy watching his other tv show called hotel hell.
i love listening to music and my favorite singers and bands are avril lavigne (i listen to her music since i was in elementary school), taylor swift, troye sivan, melanie martinez, olivia rodrigo, blackmore’s night, the marias and iron maiden (yes. i love metal songs. so much.)
i also like kpop, the groups that i stan are blackpink, red velvet, twice, ive, g-idle, wayv, nct, exo, the boyz, riize and zb1. let me tell you my ults! my ults are lisa (my forever favorite girlie), seulgi, irene, nayeon, wonyoung, miyeon, ten, sehun, juyeon, wonbin and ricky. for soloists, i like iu, sunmi, bibi and hyewon.
i’m also a bookworm, i love reading books so so so much! some of my favorite books are call me by your name by andré aciman, love and gelato by jenna evans welch, kisses and croissants by anne-sophie jouhanneau, the love hypothesis by ali hazelwood, the notebook by nicholas sparks, the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde and twisted series by ana huang.
i really love and adore animals! i love dogs and cats so much! i own 4 dogs, they have been my friends for 10 years (and still counting) now. there is also a cat that always come to my grandparents’ house everyday, and i called her “meng” and i usually play with her every week.
more about me, i fancy high fashion (i love talking about designer handbags and i also tweet and retweet a lot of stuffs about fashion so i hope you’re okay with it), makeup, art, hot choco, coffee (i drink coffee literally everyday, so “no coffee no me”)
i love snoopy so so so much, i also love sanrio too. guess who's my favorite sanrio character(s)? yup, it's cinnamoroll, kuromi, my melody, wish me mell and cogimyun.
some things that i hate are cockroaches, hot weather (i hate being sweaty), thunderstorms, math (big no big ew), homework (disgusting), matcha, taro, mint choco, overly sweet foods and spicy foods.
dnf list:
fits basic dni criteria.
hates or anti any of my ults.
likes to join fanwar.
lgbtqphobic.
account that contains heavy nsfw or gore contents.
problematic.
salty.
-16 and +27 users
extra notes:
if somehow you make me feel uncomfortable with you, i will soft-block you. no hard feelings.
i’m very very very slow on replying to text messages, i don’t open my dm/line too often. so if you have something important to say to me, please do mention me on timeline and ask me to check on your messages.
i usually tweet in english and bahasa, but please note that english is not my first language. so i hope you can understand if there is grammatical errors, feel free to correct me nicely.
please do not private qrt me (it causes me extreme anxiety). also, if i ever made any mistake feel free to knock on my dm or send me a message on retrospring anytime to educate me.
do not hesitate to reach out to me first if you want to be friends (you can mention or dm me), i'm always open to those who wants to start a friendship with me.
take notes!
i clean my followers often to maintain a small circle, so if i feel like you rarely interact with me and barely seen on timeline, i will soft-block you. no hard feelings.
lastly, thank you so much for taking some time to read this, i really appreciate it. i hope this will help you to get to know me more.
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wickedsrest-rp · 10 months
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Welcome to our weekly round-up! We do these every week to provide plot drops, highlight starters posted that week, and share other information about the setting. Anyone is welcome to use these bullet points in starters, plots, anons etc. Also let us know if you want us to include one of your setting-related plots in here for next week by sending us a bullet point!
What’s new in town?:
Strange crystals have overtaken the town, and touching them creates a “link” to the doomed people of Bleak Point. Some may find they have a stranger influencing their actions, while others might find their emotions amplified. The least fortunate may transform into creatures from the mines and terrorize the town. Come join the chaos of our latest POTW!
Don't forget your bug spray, kids! It's summer time and the insect life is in full force. Especially in the Common where bloodclingers have turned into their own personal all-you-can-eat buffet.
There's a new item on the menu at Driftwood Diner! Instead of your traditional chicken wings, they have something called worm wings. Yes, they're spicy. Yes, there's worms. Yes, they only come bone-in and they are worm bones! If you find yourself with an inexplicable need to do the worm dance and nestle into soil for the following days or week, don't be surprised.
For those who enjoy the finer things in life and find themselves at the Shimmering Sky Bar--- well, they may want to keep a close eye on their possessions unless they happen to be really good at scavenger hunts.
Starters:
Celebrating Speak Now TV release? Bridie is offering free entry to Tír na nÓg to anyone wearing purple
Who put a giant, smelly gym sock along Marcus' favorite path in the Common? Answers are needed
Smelly gym socks and super smelling? Yikes. Jo wants to know why all the weird stuff comes here
Leila is looking for a good jewelry cleaner so if you know someone, send them her way
Jasper is still without a face. Can someone help?
To set your mind at cheese, Beau is here to reassure the BMV is all good again so renew your license today!
Why does all her stuff say Mack? Clearly her name is Llama!
If you're good with internet slang, Lukas could really use your help
Can anyone help poor Sofie get the chickcharney out of her hair? She's having a bad time
Alright gardeners of WR, Conor's coming through with all the hot gardening tips of the summer
If Van has eaten your hay, consider this your formal apology
Please stop asking Chris to go photograph the crystals
If you have good home remedies for a broken bone, hit Teagan up
Alan seems to have lost his name. Can anyone help him get it back?
Russ wants to know if still using his zune mp3 player is weird and why he's getting strange looks
Fries? Crispy or soggy? There's one right answer, so help Jade settle this debate with her sister
Check out the new gown on display at the Party Thrifter! Leila is especially proud of this one
Can anyone help Felix find chips? The vending machine keeps spitting out random inanimate objects instead of food
Tune into Miyeon's show and enter the Fun in the Sun giveaway by sharing your worst dating stories today!
Marina is looking for someone to help her get in touch with Walt Disney. She's watched The Little Mermaid and she has some bones to pick with this Walt man
Juno wonders if the cod sandwich is really that good or if the Codfather has implemented some weird marketing ploy
While in the woods, Alex found a wallet with a tail and legs. It's a little mouthy. Please claim your cursed wallet
Have you seen this dinosaur femur? If so, please contact Dr. Regan Kavanagh
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meep923 · 11 months
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༻Your Appearance Messed Me Up(yuyeon)༺
Chapter 9/25 + bonus chapter
In the next few months, Yuqi and Soyeon trained everyday at the gym. Sometimes, they would also train overtime. Yuqi's wound got better over time and Soyeon's skills and strength improved. The pair had grown closer, currently best of friends. Yuqi was also good friends with Minnie, they are people who can talk about what they went through together. Miyeon still has a crush on Minnie. The crime scene was cleaned up, the evidence was all kept in a box and its all in Minnie's office. She still has no idea who did it. Soojin and Shuhua have a great relationship, they are now officially living in the place Shuhua rented while Yuqi got kicked out. Yuqi went to the other apartment and lives with Soyeon. They also bought some weights and a punching bag for them to train. Nothing quite interesting happened during this period of time.
4 months later
Soyeon's POV
Yuqi and I were at the gym in X Company doing sprints and weights. Someone stepped into the space from the lift lobby. He was wearing a clean-pressed suit so I suppose he was someone that was here to assess if we were ready. Over the last 4 months no one was chosen. Yuqi was faking her level of expertise in the area so that she could stay with me. She made sure that we would appear that we had to same level of expertise. All the people who were present in the gym lined up in a straight line.
"Hello recruits. Today will be the day of the assessment to see if you are ready for mission." The man said in his raspy voice. "Yuqi, Soyeon, Conner and Bruce are the next people who have the possibility of moving out of this room today and go to the mission centre." It was the first time in 4 months that this guy had ever called anyone by their name.
Yuqi and I are spilt into separate groups to compete with the other trainees or recruits as the man had called us. Yuqi and I won all of them and the both of us were the last ones standing. The man nodded his head and said, "Yuqi and Soyeon have passed the test and are officially members that can participate in our activities. Congratulations." Then, he turned his head and headed out of the gym.
Yuqi and I were shocked, we did not expect that we would pass the assessment today. We looked at each other disbelievingly. "Okay, other than Yuqi and Soyeon, the rest of you better get back to training." Samantha said. "Congratulations. There will be a small welcoming party tonight at the function room on level 9. Please do come along since ya'll are the focus of the night. Ya'll better get back home and change your clothes. You are not going to a party with sweatshirts, sweatpants and running shoes." She smiled.
"The driver will pick the 2 of you up at 7pm tonight. This is his number. Please tell him your address. Now, for the first time, you are dismissed from training extra early." She continued. Yuqi and I went to our lockers to clean out our things. Finally, after 4 months of gruelling training, we have completed the assessment. 
Yuqi's POV
I did not talk to Soyeon at all on our way back. I was too preoccupied by my thoughts. Yes, I was glad that we had passed the assessment, I could finally work my way to the information that I need. However, I was afraid that Soyeon would get hurt. She still does not know the potential dangers that she may face in the future. Even I do not know what might happen. The risks are limitless. I took out my phone and sent a text to Minnie.
yuqi
hey, mins, we got past the assessment
read 13:18
minnie
congrats. 
good luck and be careful
take care of soyeon. shes not the same as u
Stay safe
its not worth risking your life for
read 13:19
Great. I thought bitterly. I have another thing to worry about now. After becoming official member, the both of us had to go on missions. There may be times when we would be separated. I know what kind of missions there may be. I'm not sure if she is able to take it. I had been there and been through it. 
I looked to the side. Soyeon had fallen asleep on the leather seats of the luxurious car. I have a feeling that tonight might be a test for us. A final challenge to see if we past the test. When we arrived at our apartment, Soyeon suggested that we went to the shops nearby and see if there were any nice dresses that we could wear to the party tonight. We walked around the neighbourhood. Soyeon really liked the dress that she had seen on display.
I feel like I would like to see her in such a dress, I am sure she would look stunning. The tailor at the shop made some adjustments to the dress such that the hem of the dress was just above her ankles. While Soyeon was getting her dress tailored, I looked around the shop for a smart suit. The entire idea of the suit was supposed to be easy for me to defend myself in case they wanted to test us. I also wanted to find a suit with many pockets so it can keep some weapons. 
I chose a smart white and checkered suit. After shopping, we went back to our apartment. When we reached home, Soyeon went to her room and closed the door. I had no idea what she was doing but I went to the sofa and sat down. At 5pm, I took a shower and blew my hair dry. I put on simple makeup and did my hair into a lose bun with some hair on each side of my face.
6:55pm
Soyeon came out of her room. I turned to look at her. She looked stunning. The dress that she wore perfectly cupped her breasts. Her hair was styled into long, wavy locks. I was stunned by her. I stared at her. She looked so pretty in her clothes. I felt my heart fluttering. I realised that my heart has been beating a lot faster than usual when I am around Soyeon. I tried to figure out why but I gave up quickly. She was too stunning
Soyeon's POV
When I walked out of my room, I saw Yuqi standing in the living room in her suit. I still did not understand why would she choose a suit for the occasion but I am glad she did. She looks so fine. Her clothes seemed like as if they were made for her. Her legs looked so long. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. She broke eye contact first. "Shall we wait for the car downstairs?" She asked, blushing slightly. She looks cute when she is blushing. 
I went to the door and wore my heels, it made me look considerably taller. When we got to the roadside, the driver had just reached. We got onto the car and travelled to X Company.
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