Threesome (Irene X Reader Ft. Seulgi)

Chapter 5

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The room bustled with activity as the staff weaved through the crowd, handing champagne to anyone interested. The sea of crisp suits and sparkling dress and the smell of overpowering perfume made your nose crinkle in disgust. Among the luxury brand dresses, you stood out with your cheap-looking, pale green strapless dress and silver flats. You could hear some of the guests whispering to themselves and turning their nose up at you, surprised at how a 'commoner' made it to the art show. Sticking to your little corner, you tried to find your date, the star of this entire party, to ask if you could leave early, the champagne and horrendous smell of expensive perfume clogging up your nose.

"Y/N! I'm surprised to see you here!"

Turning your head towards the direction of the voice, your eyes fall onto a woman dressed rather inappropriately for such a formal event. Dark pink trousers, wrinkled dress shirt with the cuffs unbuttoned and untucked, black suspenders and a masquerade half mask, a dark pink blazer draped over her shoulders, dark brown hair slicked back into a ponytail. You cocked your head to the side in confusion as you thought about where you had seen this woman before but when she grinned at you, you instantly recognized the smile as Seulgi's signature grin. Rolling your eyes playfully at Seulgi's pout, you patted her arm in greeting, "I'm here as a plus-one and as a representative of the university's art department, not that anyone cares. All they see is some poor wannabe and turn away from me." Taking a glass of champagne from one of the serving trays, you down the liquid in one go, ignoring the horrified gasps from the nearby group as they watch you be 'uncivilized'.

Seulgi rolled her eyes from underneath her mask, "I'm not surprised at all by these old men. When I started, they would refuse to even look at my works. Even now, with Irene's backing, the old men still refuse to see me as an artist. But I guess for the department, as long as they pull their wallet out, then it's fine right?" You nodded your head, letting the awkward silence hang between the two of you. Ever since that afternoon at Seulgi's studio, there's been an odd sexual tension between you and Seulgi, with her becoming increasingly bolder and you trying to fight back her advances as well as your own growing feelings towards the artist. Granted, your relationship with Irene didn't mean you had to stay loyal to her, but you felt that you owed her that much at least to not go behind her back and sleep with one of her friends. But even in your moments with Irene, your mind wanders from time to time. Would Seulgi be rough or soft, would she pin you down or let you take the lead, would she-

No, now's not the time to be thinking about fucking Seulgi.

"Y/N."

You let out a breath of relief when you hear Irene calling your name, the cold tone a stark contrast to the excitable yell of Seulgi. Looking up at Irene, you took in the black dress that she was wearing for the party: strapless and form-fitting, it looked plain compared to the extravagant dresses the other women wore but it still drew eyes on her when she entered the room and the off-shoulder neckline was just appropriate enough that it didn't warrant any disgusted scowls from the other women but left little to the imagination. Simple accessories consisting of diamond earrings and necklace and her usually straight hair styled into loose waves, the older woman was a vision, even when her eyes darkened and her grip on your waist was borderline possessive as she gave Seulgi a fake smile, "I see you made it tonight, after all, Seulgi. I wouldn't want you to miss the unveiling of your new piece."

As if on cue, the chatter in the room died down as the lights dimmed down and the staff went around the room to take the sheets covering the art pieces scattered around the ballroom, the crowd scattering into smaller groups to examine the artworks, quietly praising them and examining them. However, you could also hear some of them shaking their heads and turning their backs on one particular one, muttering to themselves about how inappropriate and tasteless the work was. Peeking over Irene's shoulder, you could see why, but it didn't stop you from pinching the bridge of your nose.