#folie a deux | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

praeluxius · 6 days

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Blasé

part 4 of folie à deux. masterlist

male reader x kim minju (ex-iz*one) ft yujin, gaeul and rei of Ive

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

words: 9.15k - a lot of set-up in here for future parts, sorry

Blasé - indifferent

It’s a far cry from elegance—the way you’re both scooping up pieces of clothing from the ground.

"Trousers?" You’re scanning wall to wall, behind stools and tables until your eyes rest on the woman across the room. "Where did they go?"

Minju's got her hands at her waist, fitting her own trousers. “Over there.” She simply tilts her head in a direction of vague guidance.

Aside from the distant voice from the flickering television in the corner, showing scenes of the news, and the soft sounds of jazz music, there's an uneasy amount of silence for a bar in the mid-afternoon. Another knock at the door—Wonyoung must be getting impatient. No surprise.

You're pulling on your trousers as Minju slides her arms into her blazer, settling it onto her shoulders. As she brushes down her clothes, fixes her hair and steps over to her shoes, she has shifted back into the unassuming young woman you first set your eyes on. Not a trace of the indecency remains. Not even a slight indication that, despite the attempt she made to clean up with a few napkins, there's likely still your cum running from her cunt.

She has spent the past couple of minutes explaining how this will go—how you're going to sit back at the bar and Minju is going to re-open as if nothing happened. She didn't tell you exactly how she plans to deal with the Wonyoung problem, but, ‘just let me handle it’ is somehow enough for you.

You sit where it all started, joining your drink at the bar. The last remnants greet you in a sorry state of neglect. You do what you can to straighten up, a hand through your hair, a smoothing down of the wrinkles in your shirt, and a tug on the sleeves to straighten the cuffs. It is when you start to think you've got yourself somewhat under control that you realise just how bad you must look. There’s the undeniable sign that you can’t ignore—that rising tide of musk and sweat from your body and the discomfort it brings.

Another loud rattle of the door against the frame, vibrating across the hinges and into the metal fixings. A call of your name, but it's not quite how you think it should sound.

Minju flicks a series of locks on the door; three separate bolts—heavy-duty clunking metal. Finally, she drops the latch and unlocks the main lock. She has her hand on the handle of the door and she hesitates, looking over her shoulder to check on you once again. One last look.

Just smile.

She opens the door, standing in the opening, between you and the woman outside.

"Wonyo—" Minju begins. "Sorry, who are you?"

You twist in your seat and watch the scene unfold. You expect anger, an outpouring of venom from a woman so full of ego, arrogance, vanity, and maybe even jealousy.

Reality is far from the expectation.

The woman asks Minju if you're here, and while you're still racking your mind to work out who she is, Minju lets her in and, in a way, you're grateful for seeing her walk into the room and folding her umbrella.

"Gaeul?"

"Finally, I was a minute away from leaving. What were you—" She looks around the room, at the out-of-place stools, and then at you. She scrunches her nose and sniffs, confirming her suspicions through the scent of sex. "Oh."

She turns her eyes to Minju. Gaeul lingers, eyes fixed on the bartender's face.

"We... we were talking." Minju chuckles in amusement.

"With the door locked?" Gaeul is easy to read, even across the room, and you can see the genuine concern on her face. You hear it in her voice too. Suddenly, even being here feels wrong. Discomforting is the silence. Unnerving is the smile that stretches on Minju's face—a much prouder look than you're giving.

"Relax darling, we were just talking, and then…" Minju dismisses and Gaeul rolls her eyes.

"No, no. Please. Don't say another word," Gaeul waves her hands in front of her, a gesture of surrender. "I don't want to know the details."

"You sure you don't want to hear about how he just—?"

"No. Just no." Gaeul turns from the grinning woman and heads to you.

She struts in that same determined way she always does. Steady are her paces. Bag over her shoulder, short hair half-tied up and black jeans hugging her legs. As usual, she dons the casual grace that suits her so well.

“Bro, what the hell happened?”

“You seriously don’t know?” you answer the question with a question.

“You got called away. Wonyoung said she had somewhere to be and the rest of us were left waiting, but nothing ever happened. Then classes end and Wonyoung finally just tells me I could find you here.”

“I’m in a shit-storm, Gaeul.” You say, resigned to your seat.

Figuratively, of course. Though Gaeul looks like she’s been in one herself as she throws her rain-drenched raincoat over a stool. The one outside probably isn’t bad enough to require a name, but you know the one that you’re facing all too well. Storm Wonyoung.

You recount the abridged version for her. Of course, the details of you and Wonyoung and your benefits need little introduction. As for the rest, it’s difficult to explain the parts you still don’t understand, like how this all comes down and you and you alone. It takes two to fuck.

"You can't just hide in here from it all."

You laugh a little and say, "not hiding." An obvious lie, and Gaeul gives you a forced smile that says she's not convinced.

"You had us worried."

“Even Wonyoung?” you ask; it’s a test more than a question. You know the answer. You know that she doesn’t give a shit, but you want to see if Gaeul tries to sell the lie.

"Ha! That would be a first." Minju mocks with a scoff. She walks back to where you first found her, behind the bar, and she's still pulling and tugging at her shirt to get the fit back how she likes it.

"I’m sure she does," Gaeul says, with little confidence in her words. She sits herself down next to you and drops her bag off her shoulder and onto the bar.

"You’re still trying to convince yourself," Minju mutters with a shake of her head. "She really has you all around her little finger."

Gaeul is trying her best to ignore the interruptions. "Wony and Yujin—they can fix this."

"Yujin, huh? Now that's a new name." Minju interjects yet again, looking at you with eyes sharp enough to cut. She has her back to the shelf of alcohol, her arms folded under her chest. The more you think about it—the more the pieces seem to fall into place—the clearer it becomes that Yujin is the best friend who replaced Minju.

You scratch your ear. What a mess.

"Gaeul, there's no way the school let me back in."

"You don't know that."

Minju steps forward, a little closer. Her tongue dances across her lips as she readies herself to speak. "Oh, you think Wonyoung is going to get daddy's money and pay your way out of this mess? What's she going to tell her father? Hey daddy, please can you bribe the school to help this guy who's been fucking your princess silly? Seriously? She’s probably the one who got you kicked out in the first place."

That same laughter. That same mocking, belittling attitude that Minju had toward the idea of Wonyoung earlier. As if Minju sees nothing but weakness. Sure, Wonyoung has her fair share of faults, and sometimes she comes off too entitled, but right now, in this situation, her heart is actually in the right place. Or that's at least what Gaeul is saying.

“She would never do that! Wonyoung takes care of her friends and I’m sure she…” Gaeul gives up on her argument as Minju continues to laugh in the face of it.

Minju holds one elbow in the palm of the other hand and places her index finger on her cheek. She flicks it over to Gaeul and points. “Where are my manners? Drink?”

"Coffee, I guess."

"Come on, we're in a bar, let me pour you a—"

"No." Gaeul snaps. "All that stuff does is tear lives apart." An unexpected sternness in her tone—not one you’re accustomed to. There's a hardness that washes over her features—even her hair seems to have stood up a bit on end.

"Gaeul, it's just a drink—"

"That's how it starts and before you know it—" The door opens and a couple of men walk in, silencing her. They look to choose their seats and Gaeul seems to shrink into her stool.

"Alright. Coffee it is," Minju says before shifting her focus to you. "Anyway, Yujin—you fucking her too?"

"No." It's not a lie. Close call? Sure. Want to? Of course. Fucking her? No.

With Minju it just seems like if you give her any opportunity to fan the flames and she’s there. She’s the type to see you caught in a storm and perform a rain dance.

She laughs. She knows. It’s written on your face. "Of course not. Maybe she will let you one day." Minju laughs again and turns to pour out a coffee from the machine on the back of the bar.

Gaeul leans in close, making sure Minju can't hear you over the sounds of the coffee machine whirring to life. She whispers, "bro, what’s wrong with this girl? And how does she know Wonyoung?"

"High school or something. They go back. Way back."

Minju approaches you, drink in hand, and without a word, places the coffee in front of Gaeul. Her expression speaks a hundred mocking words, and she shows little remorse for how she only seems to have stirred the pot further. Her earlier words ring in your ears—how you should be more selfish and that there's more to life than Wonyoung and Yujin.

But here's the hitch.

The problem.

You can't shake the feeling that you really like those girls. No matter how complex their games get or how hard they play with your emotions. There's some innate charm about the two of them; a kind of charisma that not only attracts but holds. No matter how impossible their demands are, you keep on wanting more.

You're attracted to their sheer arrogance. Drawn by the magnetism of their utter assurance. Entranced at the depth and certainty of their convictions. And if Minju could read your thoughts right now, she would tell you just how stupid you sound.

As Minju walks away and towards her new patrons, sitting at the other end of the bar, you can only admire her.

Not just physically, but who she is. She doesn't care what other people think. She lives for herself.

"Bro, you gonna keep staring her down like that or you gonna talk to me?"

"Gaeul, I have to ask: why are you here?"

"To save you from doing something stupid. Though I might be too late." Gaeul throws a side-eye down the bar to Minju while she takes a drink.

"Don't take it out on her." You shrug. "She—"

"Hey, I get it, she's hot," Gaeul rests her cup back on the bar and brushes a hair away from her cheek and back behind her ear. "I could tell when I walked in. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together, but what I don’t understand is you. Do you just enjoy being used by anyone with a nice body?" Gaeul put her hand up between you, palm showing, stopping you from replying. “Actually, don't answer that. What I'm saying is, don't you want more?”

Gaeul takes another drink from her coffee, holding you in suspense. The truth is that you don't really have an answer and you're not in any state of mind right now to make one.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we girls talk. About love and relationships and sex and well... Just stop being so naïve, will you? If you get caught up playing the game, you're the one that's going to end up played." She picks the cup up again, cradling the warm mug between her fingers, wrapping her slender digits around it, squeezing gently. A long inhale follows as the aroma rises, the scent strong and enticing.

"I didn't ask for any of this." It's a defence so weak that you don't even support yourself. It's a hard denial of the fact that you have been used. Wonyoung has had you under her thumb from the start. And maybe you have gotten a little too comfortable under there.

"Listen, stop thinking with your cock for one day, bro. Tomorrow morning, go pick Yujin up from her house and take her out to get a dress for the party." She's talking fast, laying out a plan you weren't prepared for.

"She asked you earlier, remember, and don't worry, I already picked out a few that I know she will like. I'll text you the photos and what stores they're in. And for the love of god, just enjoy her company without trying to cum on her."

You shouldn’t feel insulted by that, but you do. These girls really share everything.

Gaeul continues her instructions, "and then you turn up at the party on time, take the opportunity to forget everything that's happened and have a fun evening with Yujin, okay?"

It sounds so logical that it's impossible not to follow—even if it's rarely ever that simple. You agree. A silent nod, but enough to assure her that her words have reached you.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes?"

Gaeul places the coffee mug back down on the table, pushes it away, and turns to face you. "Please make sure you dress nice, too. None of this"—she motions to your clothes—"can make an appearance. Seriously.” She smiles to herself as she stands up from the stool.

"Did I hear something about a party?" Minju returns with a renewed smile.

Gaeul rolls her eyes and gives you a slight shake of her head. Her way of letting you know that she has already seen enough of the new addition to your life.

"I think I've spent enough time here already. You should probably get home, too.”

You glance toward your drink, and Gaeul rolls her eyes. She laid out the recipe to success so simply and left you in charge of your future.

She offers Minju no quarter, merely walking toward the door she came through without a word. And she gets none in return, Minju quickly forgetting she was ever here to spoil your fun.

Minju repeats her earlier question. "So, party? Tomorrow? Are you talking about Sakura's?" The name is somewhat familiar. The truth is that you don't know for certain whose party it is, or why it was happening, just a time and a place, but as Minju confirms the details with you, they match up. Not that you have ever met this girl in question, it's just another friend of Wonyoung's.

"I didn't plan to go, but if you're my chaperone, then I could be convinced." Minju's got a glint in her eye and a flirtatious lilt in her tone—the kind a girl pulls out when they're trying to tempt you into doing exactly what you know you shouldn't.

Gaeul told you just minutes ago to stop thinking with your cock and it’s easier said than done as Minju stares down at you with those eyes that look oh-so-pretty and the desire floods into you once again.

Still, there's some semblance of resistance in you. "It's not a good idea, for more reasons than I can even explain right now."

She stares at you in silence, smiling as she tries to understand, but her hands reach across and her slender fingers stretch over the top of yours. Fingers brushing over your knuckles and her thumb tucking under your palm.

"Don't ruin the fun," she replies. That spark. Flash. That temptation for more is so hard to resist. Gaeul’s words melt away.

"It's just that—"

"Think about the message it will send: I'll wear my sexiest dress and turn up arm-in-arm with you and Wonyoung will never know how close you were to being broken when you turned up here." It’s probably the worst message you could send, but it does sound exciting.

A momentary smile—lost to a sigh at the thought. "That's only going to stir up more trouble, Minju."

"All's fair in love and war. You ever heard of that? Your move.." She smiles at you—the sly, playful smile of someone who's in complete control, and is too willing to show it. Her hand tightens on yours and her eyes are unrelenting, and despite every sensible part of you warning yourself of her dangers, there's a spark that keeps growing inside that draws you back in.

"Are you really getting all proverbial with me right now?" You try to avoid giving her the answer she wants, but the girl is too smart to let you do that.

"Are you really avoiding giving me an answer? Well, it's too late now. We're going. You can come by and pick me up at seven?"

"Seven," you repeat. A resigned affirmation. "Here?"

"Not here, stupid. My apartment. I put my address in your phone notes."

"My phone?" You pat at your pockets, not feeling it anywhere.

"Here." She pulls it from her back pocket and throws you a gentle wink. "Don't forget about me now."

***

Luckily, it seems that news of your expulsion is still under wraps for now. Not only has no one from the class sent you a text about it, being their usual prying selves, but if the news had gone beyond the school and someone like Yujin's father had found out, he wouldn't have let you anywhere near his daughter.

Actually, everything today just feels so... normal. Even Yujin has avoided mentioning it while you have been out with her.

You're still out now, sitting on one of those chairs outside the changing rooms. You know the ones—placed there for a very specific set of people. The ones for the disgruntled boyfriends who hate this sort of thing and all it entails. With their various bags by their side full of clothes, jewellery and shoes.

That's a lot of guys anyway, but you—

"What do you think?" Yujin calls out as she pulls back the curtain and steps out into the hallway. "It looks nice, right?"

—aren't in their ranks today. You appreciate this ritual for what it is. There is no exasperation. No annoyance. Nothing but the simple delight of watching a beautiful woman twirl in front of you before her reflection.

"Looks great, Yujin," you answer with an honest smile.

She gives you another twirl, arms out, her slim and toned legs shown by the dress's thigh-length cut, her arms bare and the rest of her dress is tight fitting across her flat stomach and rounding her breasts. She's playing gently with the strap on her shoulder, adjusting it against her skin. With another turn and twist, the backless nature of the dress catches your eye.

"You say that about every dress I try."

"Well, they're all gorgeous. It's hard for me to pick one."

Her laughter is sweet and musical, and it hits your heart with a dull thumping, like a heavy drum being struck inside your chest. "You're not as much help as I hoped. What do you really think?"

Yujin drops a hand to her hip, planting it there and posing with a soft pout on her lips. She has her hair held back into a ponytail. "Tell me, am I sexy?" She punctuates the question with a shake of her hips. "Pretty? Cute? Tell me, do I look good enough to eat?"

"Eat?"

Yujin does that thing she always does; where when she finishes laughing after teasing you and she bites her tongue and it pokes through her lips. She drags the curtain back across, obscuring your view again, and you're left with nothing but the plain white corridor. That and the sounds of her carefully undressing on the other side of the draped fabric. You can imagine how she undid the zipper. How it opens from her lower back. The sound the fabric will make as it slides over her naked curves—

Fuck. Stop. Don't fantasise now. Not here.

You rock your head back, resting it against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. The white tiles aren't exactly exciting, but they are preferable to imagining anything Yujin is or isn't currently wearing.

"Can you believe it?" Yujin calls from behind the curtain, wrangling your attention back. "Nine whole days. No warning at all."

"Did I miss something?"

"My dad. He's gone for nine whole days this time. Only one day after momma has gone to visit my aunt. The house is weird without them. It's just me and the staff. It's cold and quiet. You should come over more." It's all so nonchalant for her to ask that. No mention of what happened the last time you were in her house. How you—

Yujin pulls the curtain and steps out. A new dress. It's hard to look away and even harder to look her in the eyes. This is an elegant red one, an alluring warm hue. The dress is cut high up on the thigh, close enough to the line of the panties you're actively not thinking about. Tight on her waist and a neckline that follows the collarbone and frames her neck and shoulders in soft fabric.

"Well?"

"Yes." It's the only word that comes to mind. She's the most beautiful thing. Your favourite image. She is like a perfect portrait, hung there just for your view.

"Yes what?" she asks.

"Yes to this dress. This is the one."

She pulls a look. One you're not exactly sure how to read. "And about coming over?"

"Um..." The old you would have leapt at the chance. Fuck, the current you wants to too, but you still haven't addressed the elephant in the room.

"What's going on with you?" Yujin quizzes. She knows you haven't been your usual self the whole day. Everything weighing on your mind, including a future where you quite literally have no idea what tomorrow will bring. You can feel it—have felt it—holding you back.

"Look..." You run a hand through your hair. "The school thing has been playing on my mind." It's half the truth.

"Is that it? It's only school."

"Yujin. It's my life. I don't have money or assurances or—"

"You have me." Yujin steps forward, looking down at you in your seat, smiling. "Right?"

You look at her all confused. How do you reply to that? What does she even mean by that?

"I've got your back, okay? Always," Yujin assures, her smile so calming and comforting and yet, her words leave something to be desired. "Trust me."

Yujin raises a delicate hand toward your cheek, hovering millimetres from touching, just close enough for you to feel her heat and her draw. For an agonising second, all is silent as the air hangs tense. Then the touch. The smoothness of fingers that have never worked a day in their life against your skin.

"I already called the school. Told them Daddy would cut his funding if they didn't brush it under the rug." It's all so easy for her. How casually she flaunts her money and influence. But as the fingers trace the edge of your jaw, graze across your cheeks and come to rest their pad beneath your chin, tilting your head upward and casting your vision toward the young woman's bright smile, you can’t help but pin your hopes on her.

There's this moment you're stuck in, staring at her smile and wishing you could kiss it. Her fingertips threaten to draw you in but just as you let them, she slips them off you and pulls herself back. "But—" Yujin says with a wink, "you owe me."

She takes three steps back, slipping back into the cubby of a changing room across from you.

Yujin turns to the mirror, admiring the dress, her fingers running flat against her stomach. Her arms trail up along her side and around, stroking and smoothing down the fabric. Her shoulders shift, tugging on the fabric and perfecting the fit as she always does. "You're right. This is the one. You have good taste."

Yujin reaches her hands behind her back, fingers reaching her upper back and to the fabric of the dress. You watch, breathing steadily, as her fingertips begin to work the zipper, sliding it downward ever-so-slowly, exposing an inch of skin, then another, and another…

She tilts her head and gives her hair a subtle shake, exposing the nape of her slender neck. With a gentle roll of her shoulders, the dress falls loose, slipping from the sharpness of her shoulders, and gathering up on her elbow and waist. Her back is bare to you, and when you can drag your eyes to the mirror, a lot more too. That's when you catch her gaze, looking back in the mirror, watching the effect she has as the dress falls further, fully from her arms and waist to the floor.

Now only her underwear hugs her hips, the soft lace of her panties a little sheer, framing her perfectly round ass. Her eyes are fixated on your own, her face almost twisted, so sadistically joyous, revelling in the sight of your torture. Yujin says nothing—how could she say a word to ruin this tension? A laugh slips through her lips, and then she reaches behind her for the curtain. Drawing an end to the act as she conceals herself behind the fabric.

“Take this," she calls through the curtain and you're still trying to settle back into reality when out pops her hand, the dress draped over it. "You still have my card, right? You can go pay."

You take the dress, not knowing how to reply.

Yujin continues, "meet you by the door."

***

"Did you two just—?"

"She's in the changing room, Rei. At the store."

"Oh." Rei sounds out of breath and fatigued, her words come heavy, laced with pants. "Fuck it. You can help me. You're the only person who answered."

"What's wrong Rei?" You're talking with your eyes fixed across the room, waiting to see Yujin emerge.

"What's the best excuse to get out of a guy's apartment?" Rei is hushed a little now.

"Wait. Are you in there right now?"

"In the bathroom, he can't hear me right now, but yeah. I need an out. This guy was texting me about how well he was going to fuck me and he blew in like a minute." There is some disgust in her tone, a clear sense of disillusion. "Dude ended up just watching me get off. Prick."

Trying to keep it on topic, and trying to not imagine Rei masturbating, you say, "family emergency is always a good one. Hang up. Walk back into the bedroom. Then I'll call you pretending to be your uncle."

"A sexy uncle or a creepy uncle?"

"Your choice?"

"I'd say you're more of a sexy uncle."

You try not to indulge her. "Rei. Go."

"Right."

She hangs up. And you give it a minute, counting back from sixty. You call her, and when she answers, you turn up your volume, which grabs the attention of a few people in the store. "Rei! Rei! Where are you?"

"Uncle? What's wrong? Calm down!" She even sounds slightly convincing.

"Your aunt. There's been an accident. You need to hurry." You're quieter now, and the eyes around you go back to whatever they were doing.

"Yes uncle. Right away! I'm on my way now." Then you barely hear her ad she's speaking to the mystery man in the room with her. "Sorry, I have to go. It's my uncle. My auntie... she..."

Wow. She even sounds so genuinely upset. There's probably even a fake tear in there somewhere. There's some more muffled conversation you can't make out, likely Rei's dropped the phone while she dresses. You can imagine it, even if you couldn't make out what's going on in the background. She's feigning a panic, apologising to the guy, quickly pulling on her panties while he's laid there all confused. She's grabbing a shirt, jeans, a coat, and then rushing out the door. All the while maintaining her worry.

"Uncle?" she calls down the phone after some sounds of commotion. "I'm on my way now." There's the sound of a door slamming in the background.

"Rei? You good?" you ask.

"I'm out now. Thank you. Ugh. At least one guy didn't let me down today. Why is it so hard to just get a good fuck?" She lets out the words with a sigh, her tone is annoyed, and the sound in the background has changed. Her steps. The outdoors. The sound of cars.

"Take it as a compliment. Maybe you're just too hot for him."

She laughs a little, "yeah or my pussy is too good. Some people aren't prepared for what my pussy can do." She laughs again, louder this time and it brings a chuckle from yourself.

"Got to go now, Rei. Text me when you're home," you tell her.

"Wait! Before you go, what are you doing in say... an hour?"

"You what now?"

"Come on." She whines in that exaggerated way she can't quite contain. "If you're not busy then..." She trails off and silence follows.

You're not even sure what to think. Not sure what to say. "Rei..."

"Just kidding. Thanks again." She speaks in a hurry and hangs up the phone quickly too, before you can even say goodbye. You bring the phone in front of you, to make sure the call ended. It did.

You look up from the screen just as Yujin appears across the store.

***

Yujin leads you through the mall as you trail just behind her, one arm draped in bags full of clothes worth more than triple the car you drove her here in.

"Trust me. If it's not in a cone, then it's just not right," Yujin insists. You're not sure how you've come down to arguing about the semantics of eating ice cream, but here you are.

"But what if it's in a glass and it has a wafer with it? It's the same taste. The same substance," you contend, trying to reason.

"That's a sundae and sundaes are a whole different thing altogether. Everyone knows that."

"Okay, so what's wrong with that, but in a plastic cup?"

"You mean in a disposable container with not much thought, nor flavour nor creativity?" She stops in place, turning to you and saying, "Ice cream is an experience." She raises her hand to her head, grabbing at it and feigning frustration.

"So, glass okay, cone okay, plastic cup, not okay? Even if it's the same ice cream in all three?"

"Exactly." That's her reasoning, for leading you all the way to the other side of the mall, to the place that puts ice cream in a cone, and not in a little tub.

You hold your tongue for a minute and follow. Waiting for that perfect moment to throw your next question out there. You're slipping through the crowds of people, cutting around groups as they browse and peruse the items on display at the front of each store, and occasionally avoiding the people mindlessly walking on their phones.

Yujin is looking ahead and she doesn't see it coming. Two kids running right across her path. You quickly reach for her arm and pull her out of the way just in time to avoid them running headlong into her.

"What are you—"

"Careful." You tilt your head towards the kids as they run across in front of you.

"Oh." Yujin flicks her gaze after them and turns it up at you, smiling. "My hero," she says whimsically, almost to the point you feel she's mocking you. Yujin lifts her arm under your grasp until she meets your hand with her own, and then interlocks her fingers into yours. She continues leading as if nothing at all has changed. You're following her again, past countless stores, your hand bound with her all along.

"So, Yujin, soft-serve or—"

"Don't even go there." Yujin laughs, turning to flash you a smile. She pulls on your hand to bring you to a stop. "Here we are."

"But, we didn't even discuss flavours..."

***

It's different, and not entirely comfortable. Usually, Yujin is buried in her phone, scrolling down her feed, flicking through stories or reading all those weird Instagram message requests she gets from her followers. Not this time. No, Yujin is sitting beside you in the passenger seat, her phone nowhere to be seen—enjoying life. Enjoying your company.

She still has her ice cream, in a cone just as she wanted, and she's sharing it with you as you drive. She reaches over between her licks to give you a taste.

It's not just that, it's how talkative she is—now more than ever. Never has she been so willing to discuss her family. She's just finished telling you all about her auntie and how her mother helped her set up a shop overseas, and how she’s visiting her right now. All this talk has led her to her father, who she talks about with much less fervour.

You will never forget the first time you met him; the imposing aura the man commands and his rigorous standards for everything. Her stories though? They seem more like myths.

"He ran a whole rival company into the ground. Pricing them out of deals, cutting shady deals himself. It was ruthless. But effective," Yujin says, pausing before she gives her ice cream another lick. "Hundreds of people lost their jobs; it was all on the news. I was young, so I didn't really understand. Mother tells me it changed him. He was away for a long time. I went years without really spending time with him."

"Yujin... I don't understand. He always seems so..."

"Nice?" Yujin completes the statement for you with a sarcastic laugh. "When he's home, he puts on the act. But when he's away, sometimes mother just wishes he would stay there." She's looking straight ahead now, focusing on the view out the front window as you dip off the highway.

"Can I ask about the scar, then?" It's a topic you're unsure about broaching, but it feels like the kind of chance that won't come again if you leave it.

"Scar? The one on his neck? He wouldn't even tell me or mother how he got it. Probably some ex-employee, or... an ex-lover." That's the one thing you knew about him. Yujin told you before about how he barely even hides his trysts from his wife and the damage it has caused.

"Sometimes I wish the entire company would just burn, and we would all be left with nothing. Have a normal life."

“A normal life isn’t any better, Yujin. Just a different shade of the same colour.”

There's a vulnerability to her now that always seemed so elusive. It's the softness of her tone and the almost timid smile that crosses her face when you look over. Then comes the quiet. The silence as she waits—waits for the world to answer all her unanswered questions. Waits for you to give the reassurance she needs, to know she's not alone.

With one hand still on the wheel, you reach the other over to her lap and find her hand.

"Don't." Yujin pushes back at first. But the harder she pushes, the tighter you squeeze and you let her know that you're going to be here. Her resistance crumbles and the fight subsides. And Yujin entwines her hand back with yours, locking her grip. "Thank you."

You turn the next corner and the molten orange afternoon sun burns ahead of you, threatening to fall below the horizon. Its warm rays burst with vivid colour.

"You never talk about your parents," Yujin asks with a soft curiosity.

"I don't know them. It's just my brother and me. Always has been. Always will be. He raised me," you explain so simply.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I sound so ungrateful now." This might be the first time you have ever heard Yujin utter that word—sorry. She holds a little tighter onto your hand, a returned reassuring squeeze to tell you she cares.

You keep hold of her as you turn into the gated grounds of her house, pull up into her long-cobbled driveway and pull the car over in front of the door.

"You should come in, stay with me until the party," she offers, refusing to let go of your hand.

"I have to go home, I have to wash and change and..." You trail off, omitting the fact you also have to go to Minju's place before the party. Her hold on your hand loosens as you speak but you hold a little tighter and tell her, "but, I'll see you soon."

The warmth of her touch departs your grip. Her face seems more understanding. "You will." She smiles and behind her, through the window, you spot her staff approaching to help with her bags. "Don't be late, okay?"

You give her a firm single nod as she steps out of the car.

***

You're about to buzz for the third time, but you pause to check your phone. You read the address over and over. You're at the right place. Maybe Minju made a typo? Maybe she did this on purpose just to waste your time? You press the buzzer a third and final time. It rings and rings until eventually the screen lights up.

Minju's face is pressed to the camera. "You're early."

"Actually, I'm right on time."

She turns away from the camera to check the clock on the wall. She leans a little to get a better look, bringing more of her into view. More accurately, bringing her bare shoulders into the camera shot. "Fuck," she says as she turns back to the camera. "Okay, look, just come up."

"But I have a taxi here waiting."

"So wave them away." The camera cuts off and the door buzzes open.

You roll your eyes and open the door, turning to the taxi driver and lazily waving a hand before you enter.

When you make it to Minju's apartment, a surprise awaits. You find the door unlocked—that's not the surprise. What's behind it is what is so unexpected. It looks like the aftermath of a localised apartment tornado.

There are shoes on the floor between strewn-out items of clothing as soon as you enter. There's a pair of her jeans right by the door and next to them a bra. You drag your eyes across the room and things don't get any better. You don't even want to know how that pair of tights ended up hung over her TV. Or why there's one of her bomber jackets hung from the fridge? And you especially don't want to question how the back of her sofa became her de facto underwear drawer—there are six or seven pairs laid out along it.

"Minju, it's me," you call out.

Minju pokes her head from her bathroom door. "Take a seat."

"And where in the world am I supposed to find one?" Even her dining chairs hold two folded stacks of work clothes.

Minju shrugs and scrunches her nose before ducking back into the bathroom. A moment of silence is followed by the blaring of a hair dryer. You navigate the floor like a minefield until you close in on the door she just slipped into. You check your watch, just twenty-five minutes until when you told the girls you would be there. Until when Yujin is expecting you—alone.

"Minju!" You call over the sounds of her drying her hair..

She speaks from within, her voice almost completely muffled. "What's wrong?" The sounds cut to quiet.

"Ten minutes until we need to—" Your voice is caught in your throat as Minju emerges from the bathroom. She's wearing nothing but the scent of her soap and the soft glisten of her damp skin. And, in true Minju style, she doesn't cover herself, she doesn't even shy away.

It’s all so… blasé.

"My eyes are up here." Her giggling is playful and sultry, luring you to her, and there is no place else for your gaze to drift. All you have to do is watch. Follow every drop and curve, every exquisite angle. The wet, raven hair hangs heavy down her back.

"You— we— clothes— where are your clothes?"

"Ummm..." Minju raises her hands in a form of shrug as she twists and scans around the room. "They're somewhere here. Probably." She keeps walking, across your path and into the kitchen. You watch her as she struts all the way to the far counter. She stands for a moment or two in a pose, her weight on one leg and the other propped on her tiptoe.

She finally turns back to you, half a bottle of wine in her hand and a half-cocked smile on her lips.

"Minju, I need to—"

"When was the last time you had a drink? Anything since yesterday afternoon?" she asks as she sweeps two glasses that don't even look clean from the countertop.

"No, nothing, but—"

"How about sex? Fucked anyone else since me?" she's asking so casually as she places the two glasses on the small part of her table that isn't covered in books, papers and boxes. She uncorks the wine bottle and begins to pour.

"What? No, but Minju... it's almost—" Your pointless protests are stilted by the young woman thrusting a glass of wine towards you, which you feel compelled to step closer and take. You stand across from her, glass in hand, staring at a face that's staring back.

"Me neither. Cheers," she says, tilting her glass toward you as an invitation. You clink them together and follow her lead, drinking the wine in one go. “That's the drink out of the way. Now how about a fuck?"

Minju places her glass onto the table and then she approaches, sauntering one foot in front of the other until her bare chest presses against yours.

"Time is ticking, I know." Her mouth is beside your ear, whispering into it and brushing the tip of her nose across your cheek. “But we can be quick."

She slides back a step, her hand taking hold of your collar, tugging you toward her as she takes another step. You pass by the table and you take the chance to place your glass alongside hers before she continues to draw you across the room.

You don't resist. Couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted. You step as she guides you. Follow as she leads until her hips rest against her kitchen counter. There you close the space, pressed together, looking into her dark eyes—tainted with want. There's something about Minju that makes everything simple. All the world, the noise, the games. All the expectations and pressures of normal life are foregone and stripped away, leaving only you, her, and basic instinct.

Your fingers cup her jaw, following the smoothness and warmth of her cheeks. It's a subtle action, a movement slow in motion yet so immediate in meaning. As you make your desires known, the sparkle that plays at the corners of her eyes draws your lips into hers.

You near a kiss until she turns away at the last moment, leaning herself forward and presenting her bare back to you. "What do you see?" she asks, looking back at you.

The soft curve of her spine paths her back all the way to the dimple at the base. You smooth the flat of your palm along her sides, touching gently across the silkiness of her warm, wet skin. Your lips come down, pressed to her shoulder and you brush the tip of your nose along her nape. And just like that, you're intoxicated by her. All sense and rationality abandoned. "You."

"Then fuck me." Her voice is sweetly coarse, a gentle whisper. You hear a faint noise escape, a gentle mewing of want.

And fuck you will. Your hands run over her, squeezing gently as you lower. All the while she presses and writhes herself against you, rubbing and stirring at your building lust, toying it further and further. Minju bends over more, backing herself against you until you're made to take a step back. She keeps her hands against the wood as she lowers her head further and slightly parts her legs.

You're quick to unbuckle your belt, pop the button, unfasten the zipper and slip your boxers low enough to take out your dick. Hard, ready, wanting, and there's an invitation in front of you. Bare and inviting, warm and moist, enticing and so perfect.

Minju turns to flash her eyes over her shoulder, holding the very image of invitation. So, with only that little cue needed, you slide inside her. One short stroke followed by a deep, stretching push, all the way, your hips crashing to meet her. Slow, sensual motions in and out as you grip her waist.

"Faster. Like you mean it." There it is. The thing you love and hate about Minju—the expectation, the challenge, the attitude, the need for more.

A few deep breaths and you grip a little tighter. Brace your legs a little firmer and with a shift of weight forward you drive harder into her and her mewl of approval spurs you onward. You hit a rhythm that suits you both. Her back arches. She sways forward with each motion before bucking her hips back, pushing you as hard as you're pulling, matching your want with hers.

As you both find comfort in your actions, a rhythm that doesn't chase a high but pleases wholly, Minju looks over her shoulder again with a question on her lips. "Who's Yujin?"

A quick answer leaves you. "Not now," you respond, while you pull at her hips and pull a whine from her.

Minju's voice is barely a whisper. She repeats the name, questioning it a second time and asking, "You didn’t tell me yesterday. Who is she?"

"Can't you let it go?"

"You have your cock in me. Least you can do is answer my question." Minju is smiling when she says it, showing her teeth with a look that just dares you to not do as she says.

"Fine," you reply and then slide your hand up her body, reaching to cup one of her tits while you fuck her. "Yujin is a friend," you say, and you know how unsure you sound. "And she's a friend of Gaeul and Wonyoung too."

"So, really, have you fucked her too?" The question is as blunt as she can possibly make it and Minju emphasises it further with a deliberate shake of her ass into you, driving her hips back to make a point.

"Nope."

"But you want to." This time, a statement, not a question.

"Why do you think that?"

"As soon as I mentioned her name I could feel you twitch inside me. Fuck me a little bit harder. You wish I was her." Minju laughs, a hand moving behind her back, snaking around to grip her own ass.

"I didn't. I just— It was you, I—"

"I don't care. Think about her if you want. As long as you fuck me." Minju is demanding, the statement becomes her prerogative. She bites her lip and plays with herself. She knows exactly the way to tease and taunt. "That's why you're even doing this? Did Yujin not show enough affection? Too high and mighty to put out? Or does she just not like you?"

"It's complicated." You slow your movements to a series of leisurely strokes. It gives you a moment to collect your thoughts and choose your words. "We've had... moments... but I don't really understand her. But fuck she drives me insane. She's this mystery and sometimes a contradiction and you know what, Minju? Sometimes she infuriates me with her teasing." You remember just earlier today, her little show in the changing room and how it led to nothing more. You hold Minju a little firmer with a tight grasp on her waist and her breast. The anger pushes your hips against hers with a little more force.

"Ooohh... someone is frustrated. It's fucking hot when girls play coy, isn't it? Seeing her and the power she has over you. Dangling the prize and not giving it to you." Minju arches her back and looks at you, a curl in the corner of her lips as she asks, "would you rather be inside her?"

"I'm inside you," is all the answer that comes. It is a grunting, panting whisper. You thrust a little deeper and a moan fills the air.

"Fuck me harder then, use me. Fuck me like I'm Yujin. Like I'm the fucking tease that's finally giving you what you want."

There's something about the way she's taunting and coaxing you that awakens this raw, carnal lust. How does she read you this well? She's got your thoughts down to the very emotion in such a perfect moment, in a time of emotional fragility, and in a way that's strangely flattering, a kind of praise in and of itself. And Minju is saying everything that excites you most about the way you think about Yujin. All of the want and the unfulfilled frustration. All of it validated.

So you fuck her. Truly fuck her.

And you try and bury into her how much Yujin affects you. You push Minju's hips against the counter, slamming her against it and she sends a couple of pots flying in her wake. "Yes, you want her like this," she says in between pants as your thrusts speed to new heights. Minju bucks her hips into you to meet your motions, but even as she braces herself as best she can, she cannot quite catch up.

"Take her as you take me," she cries, letting out the mewing moans with a chorus of gasps, one for every time you grind your cock deep within her, you feel a squeeze, the gripping of her walls, the milking, beckoning tightness. "Break her, like she's never been fucked."

"Ahhh Minju..." You grind in deeper.

"Yujin. You're fucking Yujin!" Minju calls.

You are driven to your deepest. One final stroke as Minju clamps her thighs together.

She yells her words in an abrupt, lustful explosion. "What does Yujin like? Does she like this?" Minju teases, trying to sound seductive despite the audible lack of air in her chest and the torrents of orgasmic energy flooding through.

"Fuck," you grunt, clapping your hips against Minju's ass. Your mind is a cocktail of reality and imagination. A beautiful girl in front of you. The image of Yujin taking off her dress in your mind. That fucking tease, showing you and playing with you and taunting you. She's smiling—they're both smiling. Minju and Yujin. Looking back at you. Smiling, goading, taunting, playing.

"Harder! Fucking harder!" Minju squeals with excitement as she throws herself against the surface in front of her, sending more things flying out the way onto the floor. You have a hand in the centre of her back, pinning her down while you slam into her throbbing cunt. Again and again, the slaps and the wet smacks resound with every impact. "Let it out," she squeals.

Her words stir an inferno, building a flame inside and its warmth fans out, spreading and warming every part of you. Its fire melting and burning you in its powerful force. And then with one last plunge, you hold yourself, pressing as deep into her as possible, filling her up and sending yourself bursting and exploding through her.

The rushing wave. Flooding torrent. Thunderous release.

Everything let go.

In her, and held fast, still spasming, still releasing, spilling, and pouring everything. Everything spent, empty, drained. You try and catch the breath that evades your racing heart and heaving chest. Sweaty and slick. Warm and tender. The exhaustion settling in.

It's all so fucking cathartic. A long-suppressed and repressed fire finally unleashed and given its time to burn. Unhindered and unchained, and all under the watchful eye of your own personal confidant, coaxing out what's been buried, releasing its lock, freeing its bounds.

"Now tell me... how long have you wanted that?" Minju asks, and the satisfaction in her voice makes it clear that she already knows.

With your pulse pounding and breath racing, you're not ready to face her just yet. It takes another moment, holding her, pressed against her, feeling the closeness in a way that you could almost say is romantic. Minju wriggles under you and releases a laugh.

She shuffles and slides away from you, forcing your still sensitive, softening dick to slip from her. Now she is facing you and it's a sight worth appreciating, but at the same time, so, so dangerous. Her beauty is special, but your mind is a mess.

"So..." Minju pulls her bottom lip into her mouth, trapping it between her teeth for a second as she dips her head then she laughs. "Did you have any other fantasies with her?"

"Minju." It's the most exhausted warning you can muster as you sink to the floor, sitting back against a kitchen cupboard.

"If it's any consolation. She's missing out. You're a great fuck. Just what I needed."

"Right back at you," you say, leaning back your head, exhausted, to rest on the cold wood. You stare up at the white ceiling, in a strange reminisce. It isn’t exciting but it’s preferable to your thoughts.

"Hmmm, that's cute." Minju is still standing beside you, using a piece of kitchen towel to awkwardly clean herself up. She wipes the thick, slick mess away and asks, "And look. What we just did, it's not weird. I get it. We're two friends just helping each other out. No strings."

You nod slowly, taking her sentiment.

"Don't worry. Yujin will know nothing. Our little secret," Minju says, patting your head. You sit for a moment in silence, Minju still by your side, she's getting herself a bottle of water now from the pack next to her.

"Minju?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is your place such a fucking mess?"

***

A/N: future parts will pick up in a smut sense with the other characters, promise.

also, I have no idea what i'm doing anymore with this part, I feel like this part isn't very good, but trust me, big things are coming.

#minju smut #kim minju smut #izone smut #yujin fluff #gaeul #rei smut #m reader #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop smut #ive smut #ive fluff #folie a deux

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