summary: in which you’re injured and the lads boys find out about it (kinda).
ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb & valko
notes: suggestive content so MDNI / NSFW, xavier’s a little evil, zayne’s a little silly, rafayel is losing it, sylus is #upset, caleb is caleb, valko is a little dumb but he has the spirit! fem reader (!!!), minor suggestive comments and allusions to violence (is anyone surprised) that’s it (i think).
p.s. first time doing valko i like him as a loser do we also like him or should i delete my account just lmk!
a/n: GULP i rlly hope you guys like this it was fun to make so I Enjoy it but it’d also be lovely if you did too okok…valko my silly nerd…ty for reading (- -)(_ _)
Yunho x Fem (Model) Reader x Yeosang (a little bit, poly but no mxm)
Contents: poly yunsang (polyteez), shower sex sorta, handjob, choking,
Synopsis: When you and Yunho take a little too long in the shower, Yeosang gets impatient and sees what’s taking so long.
You’d had the longest day of your life. In and out of meetings, photoshoots, interviews, brand testing, working on colors for the eyeshadow palette. You just needed to forget everything your brain had to process today. So when your boyfriend, Yunho invited you to wash it all away with him in the shower you couldn’t say no.
You sighed as you stepped under the hot water, getting your hair wet and closing your eyes jsut in time for Yunho to slip in behind you. His arms wrapped around you.
“Long day, love?” He asked as he rubbed gently to your wet stomach.
“Very much so.” You replied, leaning back into him.
“Can I wash your hair?” He offered, When you nodded, he reached for the shampoo, squirting some into his hand before gently massaging it into your scalp, scratching gently with his short nails.
“Oh, that feels so good.” You practically moaned leaning back into him. He let out a gentle laugh.
“Yeah?” He continued. His fingers digging into your head in the best way. He rinsed your hair beofre putting conditioner in and clipping it up.
“You’re good at this. I might just hire you.” He let out a hearty laugh as he grabbed the sponge before running it all over your body.
Soon, the sponge was replaces by his fingers, rubbing up and down your body before his fingers dipped lower.
“Can I touch you?” You gave a tiny giggle.
“You are touching me.” He let out something between a laugh and a sigh.
“You know what I mean.” You squeezed his hand.
“Yes, you can.” His fingers dipped down over your stomach before finding you clit, drawing slow circles. You let your head lull back against his shoulder, closing your eyes. You pulled his other hand over to your breast as you leaned into the feeling of him. He alternated between squeezing your boobs and playing with your nipples as he worked a finger inside your tight hole slowly.
“Yunho.” You moaned as he rested his chin on your shoulder. He dipped his finger deeper, hooking it to hit that spot that made you moan. You snuck your hand between your bodies to wrap around his length, giving a soft tug as you slid your hand up his dick. You ran your thumb along his slit, collectingt he little bit of precum that had dribbled out. He moaned into your ear, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Keep doing that, love.” He begged. Your hand kept time with his. As his now two fingers pumped in and out of you slowly your hand glided up and down his cock.
“Yunho!” You cried as he sped up.
“I need you. Now.” He said hauling you our of the shower and bending you over the bathroom counter in what felt like a breath. You were dizzy with need as you looked into the steam covered mirror. He didn’t even bother to turn the shower off before he kicked your legs apart and aligned himself at your entrance. He grabbed your hips pulling you back onto him. You couldn’t help how your legs shook at the stretch. Yunho had always been bigger, but now without your usual amount of prep, he felt huge. You could feel how deep he was everywhere in your body. He pulled out slowly before pushing back in.
“Oh— fuck.” You moaned as your body lit up like a christmas tree. You yelped his name only to be met with banging at the door.
“Hurry up! I still need to shower too!” Yeosang yelled from the other side of the door. Yunho paused before he leaned over opening the door.
“So shower.” He said before starting to fuck you from behind once more. A high pitched moan came from your lips as you made eye contact with Yeosang. He looked at the shower still running and then back to you before a small smirk came to his lips. He walked over, leaning against the counter where you were bent over, smiling at you as Yunho continued to fuck you into oblivion. You looked up at Yeosang through blinking eyes.
“Is Yunho making you feel really good, baby?” He grabbed your chin has you nodded your head. He slipped his thumb inside your open mouth humming as you sucked on it. “Why don’t you see for yourself what you look like right now.” He cleared a spot off on the fogged up mirror with his free hand before tilting your head so your face looked directly into the clear slot.
“Look at yourself.” He said as he held your head in place, the hand moving down to squeeze your throat. “Don’t drop your head.” You obeyed him, looking at your fucked out face in the mirror as Yunho kept fucking you so good. It wasn’t long after that the knot in your stomach started to tighten.
With Yeosang’s hand wrapped tightly around your neck and Yunho’s cock carving out a space inside you, your cried out a warning. You were gonna fall apart soon surrounded by the roommates. Yunho and Yeosang made eye contact, smiling. Yeosang turned your head kissing you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth as Yunho doubled his efforts. In what felt like a white hot second, you came on Yunho’s cock, crying into Yeosang’s mouth. Yeosang continued to kiss you, holding your head in place as Yunho rode out your orgasm as his came crashing down onto him. He moaned beautifully in your ear before biting down on your shoulder with a throaty groan. As he slowed to a stop, he left you panting into Yeosang’s mouth. Yeosang pulled back to see your blissed out face. His thumb stroked your cheek as he looked into your eyes.
“Take your shower, Yeosang.” Yunho breathed from behind you.
Colonel Caleb x non mc! reader CW: Angst/ mentions of sickness/ set in the 1920s/infidelity/mentions of pregnancy/ 2.1k words
Part 1 Part 2
Your hands that were in possession of the letter, tremble, thoughts scattered everywhere. A child? Caleb has a...child? Your breathing was starting to become heavy and uneven. Who did he have a child with?
“Darling... What are you doing here?” You look up and see Caleb standing in the doorway. The color draining from his face seeing the letter in your hands. “Did you-” “Is this real?” You ask holding up the letter. Your eyes bloodshot with rage. “It's not what you think it is-” “ANSWER ME!” You yell. He took a few steps towards you but you staggered back. “Listen to me please,” he urged. “Is the child really yours? Just answer me Caleb.” Your voice trembled from rage and pain. He looked at your tearful with shame and regret and then looked away to avert his gaze. “Yes.” Hot tears streamed down your cheeks. “Why did you do this?” You sobbed and tried to break free from him as he tried to hold you. “Listen to me please.” He pleaded again. “Who is it? Who is the mother Caleb? And don't you dare hide it from me. I want the truth.” He hesitated before telling you her name. It was as if someone stabbed you in the heart and twisted the knife harder. “Her?! How could you do this to me??!! Why? Because I can't bear a child?!,” You yelled. Every word of yours pierced through him. And when you finally broke down crying, Caleb's greatest nightmare of you knowing the truth, came true.
Days flew by and your health worsened. You refused to let Caleb in let alone speak to him or even see his face. The thought of him enraged you and disgust emerged in your heart when your mind travels back to that day. Caleb couldn't tell if it was his fault that your condition worsened or was it your illness. He had been called upon and had to leave for an important mission. He wanted to put an end to this, with her. He did not want anything to do with her or the child. His child. No, it's not his, he will never acknowledge that. All that nattered to him was you, and now everything was ruined. His only wish is for you to get better, nothing else mattered to him. He doesn't care if you hated him or never want to see his face again, he wanted to see you healthy and lively. Though, he doubts you will ever be the same again. He got a glimpse of you through the narrow opening of the door to your chambers and you looked worse than he ever saw you before. And that's also why he appointed Zayne to look after you for the days he would be gone.
“I understand I'll be holding you back from your actual work, I will compensate you for that just, please... Look after her.” Zayne was well aware of the situation that had gone down a few days prior to his appointment. As much as he himself disapproved of Caleb for the moment, his priority now was his patient and friend, you. “I don't do this for compensation. She's a close friend, you both are.” Caleb could only look away from shame of facing his friend. “Zayne, whatever happened-” “I understand, let me deal with it for now.”
That was the last conversation Zayne had with Caleb before his departure. The pain in his eyes as he left without saying anything to you. He looked like a man that was going to war and was sure that he was never going to see the one he loved ever again.
Rumours about the Colonel's infidelity spread around the fleet rather quickly. But of course no one would dare bring that up now that the Colonel himself was present, not if they want to join those he discarded without a second thought. But hushed whispers about his betrayal to his wife could be heard every now and then and he wasn't all oblivious to it.
But some things didn't sit right with him or rather didn't seem to align. That night when she and Caleb were together, its true that he doesn't seem to remember anything about it and he was well aware that those were the effects of the toring chip. His memories of the morning after were vague as well. But the strange thing was that the incident happened almost five months ago and she was already 24 weeks in, six months. Something was not right. There are many in this fleet that want him ousted from his position as the Colonel and even worse, dead. Whatever this game was, he was going to get to the bottom of this. And God forbid if she was involved in one of these schemes.
“It's a sudden and severe chest pain.” When you fainted one day all of a sudden, Zayne suggested you be taken to a hospital but you were acting difficult and refused to leave. In the end he couldn't convince you as your mental health was already taking a toll on you. If Zayne had to be honest, you weren't doing so well. More so mentally than physically. “Her body temperature has risen as well, I'll give her something to lower the fever.” He walks out with the butler from your room so you don't hear their conversation. “It'd be best to send for Caleb,” he says quietly. Panic rises in the butler's face. “I-is my lady going to be alright?” “I can't say for sure. Her condition, it's..” he hesitates before continuing “Not improving. And as much as she regards Caleb with disdain, it'd be best for both if they stayed close rather than apart. Perhaps his presence might benefit us.”
Word is sent to the Colonel about his wife's condition. However, the letter wasn't received by the man himself. “The Colonel is currently away for an important meeting.” Caleb was sent to the front lines a few days prior to receiving the letter. He hesitated at first since the job description didn't really require his presence. But nonetheless had to comply. It was his trusted adjutant and assistant that received the letter but the ulterior motives of that man led him to discard the letter so that word about you never reached Caleb.
It was half past eleven. Zayne was in your chambers, giving you your required medication himself. He thought it'd be better if he saw to it personally. Your body was fragile and you'd panic if your maid and him weren't around for long. You've grown quite attached.
“Why did he do it?” you ask him quietly, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “Zayne..” He puts down the cup of medication he was mixing. This isn't how he expected to see you. You should've made a healthy recovery by now, everything should've been fine. “Am I going to die?” Your eyes have become void of any emotion and you stared at the ceiling. “You should get some sleep. I'll be here in the morning again,” he says softly and starts to get up from his chair. “If you need anything, I'll be right here.”
Thunder roars outside making you jump. You always hated it whenever there was a thunderstorm outside. Nights like these made you miss Caleb more. You'd curl up in his chest as he runs his hands through your hair and whenever there was a flash of lightning and the sound of thunder followed after, he would hold you tightly against him. “Still a scaredy-cat?" You turn around to the voice and see him standing. “I thought you weren't afraid of it anymore,” he says, stepping closer. You were always afraid of it, you hated it and you hated it more when it thundered like this and he wasn't beside you. “Remember when you used to hide during thunderstorms like this. At first I thought you were playing hide-and-seek with me. But then I saw you were frightened.” The dim light from outside illuminated half of his face and you could see those violet eyes. “I'm sorry for leaving you.” He caresses your face with the back of his hand. You wanted to reach out to him but couldn't, it's as if an invisible force much like his gravity was holding you back. You tried to say his name but nothing came out. “I love you.”
His eyes shot open as he gasped for breath. Caleb woke up drenched in sweat. Work had kept him under a weight the past couple of days. The thoughts of his possible infidelity haunting him. The dream. Why did he see it? It wasn't anything bad but... Were you alright? Caleb hasn't heard about anything from Zayne for the past few days. No update on your health or just you in general. Maybe you were healing well and don't want to see him. He's more than alright with that, he just wants to see you healthy again, the rest can be dealt with later. When you recover, Caleb is going to take you away from that lonely manor and start fresh somewhere else. Away from all this, where it's just the two of you again. He's going to step down from his position as Colonel once he settles things with both The Professor and her. You will never have to be alone again.
The maid ran down the stairs in a hurry. “Any word from the Master?” “I can't seem to reach him,” the butler says, panic in his voice. “The Mistress is getting worse, I don't think she's going to-” “Shush! You mustn't say such things.” The maid covers her mouth in tears. “I think I should go in person to see Master Caleb. I'll send someone in my place for assistance, make sure you do everything as Mr. Zayne says, he's the only one we can depend on for now.” Just as he was about to step out, another one of the maids call out to both of them to come up in your chambers immediately.
“What's going on?!,” the butler says in a tone of alarm. “Her breathing is getting heavier, it's getting harder for her to breathe and her pulse has weakened,” Zayne says holding your wrist. You were gasping heavily as your chest tightened. “Caleb...,” you gasped out. Zayne held your hand tightly. “Just hold on, he's going to be here.” He looks at the butler and with a nod of his head the butler leaves in a haste.
“Make sure everything is prepared by tonight, we need to act as fast as possible and get this done.” “Sir.” He dismisses the adjutant and proceeds forward along the long corridor. He makes a stop before his office when he hears an argument. “Sir, you cannot enter only classified personnel are allowed to have a meeting with the Colonel.” “You don't understand please, I need to speak to him right now. It's his wife-” The mere mention of you had him busting in the conversation. “What's wrong? What happened to her??” “Master Caleb, the lady... you need to come with me. Now.”
His footsteps splash hard against the puddles forming from the heavy rain. His Colonel uniform completely drenched but that was far from his mind now. “The lady has been taken to the hospital.” Those words kept ringing in his head until the car stopped and before he could realize his feet were running and taking him through this heavy storm. Please be alive, please be alive, please live. The voice inside him kept chanting those words like a prayer. He was in a state of worry and instability. He stormed through the gates and headed straight through the front corridor, not bothering to ask anyone which room were you taken to. “Sir, you cannot just enter-” “My wife! Have you seen my wife?!” “Sir, calm down I need you to-” He grabs the male nurse by the collar. “WHERE IS MY WIFE?!”
“Caleb.”
He turns his head and sees Zayne and hurries towards him. “Where is she? How is she?” The friend that helped heal his wife all these years could only avert his gaze away and Caleb knew all too well what that implied. “Zayne?” “You need to listen to me, please.” There were many moments in the past where Zayne bore unpleasant news for both you and Caleb but that was soon followed by a comfort, a hope that everything was going to be alright. His hazel green eyes became soulless almost an unpleasant grey that made him feel more like the grim reaper than the healer.
“I couldn't save her, I'm sorry.”
Rain poured down on the dark umbrella that was held over Caleb's head. Everyone left one after the other after sending their condolences and prayers. Only two childhood friends stood before the gravestone of the other friend they cherished and loved so much, each in their own way. “You'll get sick if you keep standing under the rain like this,” Zayne said quietly. Caleb didn't move, his soulless eyes kept staring down at the stone. “Caleb.” His friend put a hand on his shoulder but could not bring himself to say anything.
His soul left with yours and he was a walking empty vessel of a war machine now.
Caleb had been begging you for weeks to be rough with him. He was practically pleading you to be mean to him, something you had been too shy to do. But his birthday was only minutes away, and tonight you had decided to be brave. You were going to gift him exactly what he had been asking for so fervently.
You were riding him slowly at first, savoring the stretch of his cock deep inside you, already teetering on the edge of your own orgasm. Caleb’s hands gripped your hips, his breath ragged as he looked up at you with dark, needy eyes.
You leaned down and kissed him fiercely, biting his lower lip until he hissed. Then you sat back up, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you began to ride him faster. The wet sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, accompanied by his moans. His eyes were half-lidded, his cheeks flushed, and his usual charming smile had been replaced by raw desperation. “Fuck yes, just like—”
You glanced at the clock: 00:00. Your hand moved before you could second-guess yourself. The slap cracked across his face, sharp and stinging, snapping his head to the side. A red mark bloomed on his cheek instantly.
For a heartbeat, there was silence. You panicked. “Was it too much? Caleb, I’m s—”
Then, his cock twitched violently inside you. A broken, guttural sound tore from his throat as his entire body seized. His hips jerked up as he buried himself deeper, coming hard, pulsing thick and hot deep inside you. The orgasm seemed to drag on forever; his abs clenched, his hands strained against your hips and waist, and his mouth fell open in shocked pleasure.
You watched, stunned and aroused, as he trembled through the aftershocks, his eyes glassy.
“Shit…” he finally gasped, a dazed, blissful laugh escaping him. “Did you just—?”
“Happy birthday,” you whispered, your voice soft but laced with a newfound confidence. You traced the bright red mark on his cheek with your thumb, your skin still buzzing from the contact. Seeing your own handprint on his skin sent a fresh, sharp jolt of electricity straight to your core. You looked down at him, your heart hammering against your ribs, still feeling shy but emboldened by his reaction. “Did you… did you like it?”
Caleb didn't answer immediately. Instead, his gaze darkened, shifting to a predatory intensity that made your breath catch. Before you could process the look in his eyes, he flipped you beneath him in one smooth motion and hovered over you.
He captured your lips in a bruising, possessive kiss. When he finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven.
“Like it? I’ve never come faster in my life” he rasped, his voice vibrating through your own chest.
He didn't give you time to recover. He shifted his weight, thrusting into you with a force that made you cry out.
“Do it again,” he whispered against your lips, his voice dropping into a low, commanding growl. “Harder.”
₊꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶₊
happy birthday caleb, I love you. I wish I could slap you ♡
Unholy thoughts of the day, bunnies: Your incredibly bitchy and arrogant secretary Seonghwa, who was sincerely disliked in your office for his excessive sarcasm, sharp tongue and an ego the size of the universe, helps you relieve stress after a long and frustrating workday by wetly, depravedly, and skillfully licking your pussy.
The fluorescent lights in the executive suite hummed with that particular, soul-draining frequency that only seemed to grow louder after eight o’clock. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows the city glittered in cold indifference, a scatter of distant gold and white against the black. Inside, the air still carried the bitter scent of burnt coffee, the metallic tang of printer toner, and the sour, lingering residue of a day that had gone spectacularly and almost humiliatingly wrong.
Three failed client calls that had ended in brittle silences. A board packet that had somehow left the office with the wrong quarter’s numbers, already halfway across the city before anyone noticed. A junior associate who had dissolved into tears in the hallway and had to be gently steered into an empty conference room. And through every single sharp, gleaming second of it — Seonghwa had been there.
Your amazing but incredibly bitchy secretary. Platinum hair always combed into a severe, almost arrogant side-part that never dared fall out of place. Thin metal glasses perched on a face that looked carved specifically for disdain — high cheekbones, a mouth that seemed permanently on the edge of a cutting remark, eyes that assessed everything and found most of it wanting. He moved through the office the way a cat moves through a room full of furniture it has already decided is beneath its notice. His voice was pure silk laced with arsenic. One raised eyebrow could reduce an intern to stammering incoherence. One dry, perfectly enunciated remark could leave an entire department silently seething for the rest of the afternoon, replaying the insult in their heads like a loop they couldn’t shut off.
No one liked him. Everyone despised him, and at the same time, everyone feared him a little.
You, unfortunately, needed him more than you wanted to admit.
You had kicked your heels off more than an hour ago. The restrictive blouse was half-unbuttoned, the top two buttons undone in a quiet act of surrender, and your skirt still clung uncomfortably to your thighs, the fabric warmed by the heat of your skin and the residual tension that refused to leave your body. You sat behind the wide walnut desk with your face buried in your hands, elbows braced against the cool surface, trying to remember how to breathe without wanting to set the entire building on fire. The numbers on the screen in front of you had long since stopped making sense, while the city outside kept glittering, indifferent.
The door clicked open without a knock, of course it did, and Seonghwa stepped inside carrying a slim black folder he almost certainly didn’t need. The soft sound of the door closing behind him felt louder than it should have in the quiet office.
He took one look at you and that plump, perfectly shaped mouth curved into the familiar, faintly disgusted little smile he reserved for moments when the world had once again failed to meet his standards.
“You’re still here.” Seonghwa said, voice low and smooth, almost conversational. He set the folder down on the edge of your desk with deliberate softness, the movement precise. “How tragic. The rest of the floor managed to escape the sinking ship hours ago. You, however…” His siren eyes moved over you slowly — the half-open blouse, the abandoned heels, the way your shoulders were still locked up around your ears. “You look like something the city chewed up, spat out, and then stepped on for good measure. Charming.”
You didn’t answer. You didn’t have the energy left to spar with him tonight, and he knew it, that was the worst part.
Seonghwa walked around the side of the desk as if the air itself belonged to him. The sharp, metallic scent of his perfume — something expensive and cold, like winter air over steel — cut through the stale office smell. Up close, the platinum strands of his hair caught the low desk lamp and glowed almost silver. The thin metal frames of his glasses reflected twin rectangles of light as he tilted his head, studying you the way a surgeon might study a particularly interesting incision.
“Look at you, sweetheart, you look like a typical office rat” he observed, almost gently. “Shoulders locked. Jaw clenched so tightly I’m surprised your teeth haven’t cracked. That little vein in your temple is doing overtime again. Classic end-of-day collapse. And yet here you sit, glaring at a spreadsheet as if pure rage might rearrange the numbers for you.” He paused. The silence stretched just long enough to become uncomfortable. Then his voice dropped, soft and vicious and intimate all at once.“You need to calm down. Perhaps a couple of good orgasms would be just the thing.”
The words landed like a slap in the quiet room. You lifted your head, to give him a sharp reply, but Seonghwa was already sinking to one knee beside your chair, the movement fluid and graceful, utterly unbothered by the implication of what he had just said. His long fingers rested lightly on the armrest of your chair, turning it so that he can reach you more easily. Up close the platinum hair looked almost icy, and glimmered faintly, as though silver threads had been woven into the strands. The glasses sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose, framing eyes that held no apology whatsoever.
"Come on, don't look so scandalised, darling.” Hwa purred sweetly, his sharp tongue twirling around the words with his usual confidence in his own righteousness. “I’ve watched you all day. The way you shift in that chair every time someone disappoints you. The way your thighs press together when you’re trying not to lose your temper in front of the entire floor. You’re soaked already, aren’t you? Frustrated little thing. All that power and nowhere clean to put it.” His hand slid up the outside of your thigh, slow and proprietary, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher centimetre by centimetre. Cool fingertips traced the edge of your stocking, then higher still, until they brushed the damp heat between your legs through the thin silk of your underwear. A soft, almost clinical hum left his throat. “ You’re already wet…” He said, and there was something like quiet satisfaction in it. “You’re dripping through silk. How long have you been sitting here like this? Hours, I expect. Letting it build while you barked at everyone else and pretended you were still in control.”
You opened your mouth, to order him out, to tell him he was crossing every possible line, to say anything at all, but the only sound that came was a thin, shaky breath when two of those elegant fingers pressed firmly against the soaked crotch of your underwear and dragged upward, collecting the slick that had already soaked through the fabric.
Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and gleaming behind the thin frames.
“I’m going to put my mouth on you now.” He said, almost politely, as if he were announcing he was about to bring you another coffee. “I’m going to lick this mess off you until you’re shaking and stupid and quiet for once. And you’re going to let me, because we both know nothing else is going to fix the day you’ve had.”
He didn’t wait for permission, as always, though.
The chair rolled back a few centimetres as he pushed your knees apart with both hands, decisive and unhurried. Your skirt was shoved unceremoniously up to your waist, the cool air kissed the wet silk between your legs for half a second before Seonghwa’s mouth was there — hot, open, and devastatingly precise.
The first long, flat drag of his tongue from the lowest point of your cunt all the way up to your clit was pure filth. Wet. Loud. Depraved. He licked you like he was cleaning something precious and slightly disgusting at the same time, slow and thorough, the tip of his tongue flicking deliberately over the swollen little pearl at the top before he sealed his lips around it and sucked with focused intensity.
"Oh, my…" A helpless sound tore out of you before you could stop it.
Seonghwa made a soft, approving noise against your flesh and pressed closer, platinum strands tickling the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, whilst he was having his sweet time. His glasses knocked lightly against you; Hwa didn’t bother to fix them. Both hands held your thighs open with casual strength, thumbs stroking the sensitive crease where leg met body while his mouth worked with the same meticulous arrogance he brought to everything else.
He was relentless and filthy in equal measure. Long, wet stripes that made your hole clench around nothing, the flat of his tongue spreading your folds open so he could lick deeper, gathering every drop of slick and swallowing it with quiet, greedy sounds. The pointed tip circling your entrance, teasing, then pushing inside just far enough to feel the flutter of your walls before pulling back to focus on your clit again — sucking, flicking, alternating soft and hard until your hips were twitching helplessly against his face.
“Who would have thought you’d end up like this…” Seonghwa murmured against your plump pussy, voice roughened now, breath hot and damp. “Soaking my mouth already. Making these little desperate noises like you didn’t just spend twelve hours pretending you were made of ice.” Another long, filthy lick that ended with a soft, wet suck. “You’re dripping down my chin, and here I thought the great executive had self-control.”
He sealed his plush, overly full lips around your swollen clit again and sucked harder, tongue vibrating against it in short, rapid strokes that made your vision blur at the edges. One hand left your thigh only long enough to push two fingers inside you — slow, twisting, curling upward until they found the soft, swollen place that made your entire body jolt. He fucked them into you in the same rhythm as his tongue, the wet sounds filling the quiet office: the slick glide of his fingers, the lewd, rhythmic wetness of his mouth, the soft, broken breaths you couldn’t quite keep behind your teeth.
Your hands found his hair without thinking — cool platinum silk sliding between your fingers. You’ve pulled those soft strands quite hard and Seonghwa groaned against you, the vibration shooting straight through your clit, and licked harder, faster and more aggressively. The arrogant, bitchy secretary on his knees under your desk, glasses slightly fogged, mouth shiny with your arousal, as he eating you like it was the only thing he had ever wanted to do with that sharp, cruel tongue.
Hwa pulled back just far enough to speak, his damp, hot lips brushing your swollen folds with every word, which sent a gentle, pleasurable shiver through your body.
“You’re going to come on my tongue, darling.” He said, low and absolute. “You’re going to soak my face and shake and make those pretty broken sounds, and then you’re going to sit here in your ruined underwear and finally be able to think again. Do you understand?”
You could only nod, thighs trembling around his head, the last of your composure dissolving under the wet heat of his mouth. Seonghwa’s eyes fluttered half-shut in something like satisfaction. Then he lowered his mouth again and devoured you.
He stopped teasing, instead, beginning to devour you with a fierce, frenzied hunger. His long tongue fucking into you between long, dragging licks over your clit; skillful fingers curling, pressing, scissoring just enough to stretch you while his mouth sealed and sucked and worked you higher and higher. The wet sounds grew louder, obscener — your slick coating his chin, his lips, the tip of his nose. His once-perfect hair was now tousled, platinum strands stuck to his forehead with the faint sheen of sweat and your own arousal. The thin metal frames of his glasses pressed into the soft skin of your thigh every time he pushed closer, the cool metal a sharp contrast to the heat of his mouth.
Your orgasm hit like a wave breaking against stone. Your back arched hard against the chair, a broken, high sound ripping from your throat as your cunt clenched rhythmically around his fingers and pulsed against his tongue. Seonghwa didn’t stop. He licked you through it, greedy and thorough, drinking every pulse, every fresh gush of wetness, humming soft, almost approving sounds that vibrated straight into your oversensitive clit until the pleasure edged into something almost too sharp to bear.
Only when you were shaking and pushing weakly at his head did he finally ease back.
Hwa stayed on his knees for a moment longer, lips glossy, chin shining, glasses slightly askew. He looked up at you through the thin frames with that same arrogant, faintly amused expression — as if getting you off so thoroughly had been nothing more than another efficient task completed with quiet excellence. Then he slowly, deliberately licked his own lower lip clean, the tip of his tongue catching a last gleaming drop.
“Better?” Seonghwa asked, voice soft and wicked, still a little rough from the work. “Or shall I stay down here a while longer and make sure the stress is properly… extracted?”
Outside the windows the city kept glittering, cold and distant.
Inside the quiet office, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the soft, wet click of Seonghwa’s tongue as he waited — patient, arrogant, and still on his knees — for your answer.
summary: you'd always dreamed of having your wedding captured on canvas. you just never imagined you'd get to share that dream with the artist who became your soulmate.
a/n: I've had this idea for ages, and it has been collecting dust in my drafts for just as long. not gonna lie, this one got me emotional 🥹🩷 i tried to proofread, but honestly, at some point everything started to blur together, so if you see any typos or grammar errors, no you don't 😌😘
you had been to weddings whose couples had incredibly talented artists doing beautiful live paintings.
even your social media was curated and constantly showing content of said artists.
you even had a folder with a bunch of them saved, for your own future wedding.
although you were painfully single at the time. and were for a long while after that.
so much so that you eventually forgot all about it.
soon, wedding season was over, all - or almost all - of your single friends were happily married and said content stopped showing up for you.
like many times before, life moved on. and you moved on with it.
that is, until you met him.
hwang hyunjin.
who would have thought you'd meet the love of your life and live a love story better than you had ever dreamt about in your teenage years?
not you, that's for sure.
and yet, here you are.
it's not always been easy. life never is.
but every obstacle you both face together only reinforces what you both know and feel.
what you both have? is for life.
plain and simple.
and so your lifelong plans and dreams of a future with your soulmate return.
lucky for you, your boyfriend is just as much of a romantic as you, if not even more.
and so, you both have plenty of conversations about your relationship and its future.
what you both want. what you both dream about.
you tell him about wanting your wedding live painted.
you even showed him all the posts you had saved.
how that dream took on a whole other meaning, because your boyfriend? he was an artist himself.
you've lost count of how many times he'd lose himself in his art and the many hours you'd admire him in his element.
and even the many, many times you posed for him, and how many more you didn't even know about.
because to him?
you were his muse. his inspiration.
he himself had lost count of how many sketchbooks he filled with only you.
either from seeing you around him when he's home - sometimes even doodling on napkins when out on your many dates - or from memory when away on tour and he's missing you terribly.
so to you, it only made sense to add a wish of yours and your boyfriend's passion on the day that will be the happiest day of your lives.
the official beginning of your story as a married couple.
could you ask him to do it? i mean, sure.
he'd do it in a heartbeat.
you were pretty sure he would do it even if you didn't ask him.
he'd probably do it once you get the pictures, or even from memory, adding his own signature to it.
but you wanted it to be a gift. to both of you.
and so, like many things you've both discussed, it was filed away in both your minds.
sure, it was nice talking about what you both planned for the future and what you both envisioned.
but you both also agreed it was too early. too soon.
he was still pretty active with all his deals and the group.
and he still had the mandatory military enlistment ahead.
he had told you he didn't want to start your married life apart. having to put your life together on hold while he was away.
you both agreed it was too soon for marriage.
but, apparently, it wasn't too soon for an engagement.
before he went away on his military enlistment, he proposed.
it was beautiful, and greater than you could've ever imagined.
and after the celebrations with all your friends and family. when you were both at home, enjoying the first night as an engaged couple, he made a promise to you.
you were both cuddling on the couch. you were still lovestruck and admiring your new ring.
noticing how the low lights were reflecting on it. he held your hand in his and stroked your knuckles with his thumb.
"i know me being away won't be easy", he started softly.
"we'll get through it, like we always have", you reassured him, kissing him softly.
"but still, i want this to be a promise to you, no matter where i am, or how far apart we are, you're my future" he paused, looking you in the eyes "now, and always"
you smiled teary-eyed, kissing him; you were so in love with this man. sometimes you wondered how lucky you had been to have him all to yourself.
how grateful you were to have him in your life, and how you hoped to never take him and his love for you for granted.
him being away made the planning so much easier.
you did a very extensive and thorough research until you found an artist that you knew would be perfect.
everything was in motion, and you couldn't be more excited.
all your friends and family knew the surprise you had planned for hyunjin.
you needed their help.
the artist was disguised as part of the photographers' team, and so when she needed to take additional pictures to decide what to paint, he was none the wiser.
she was positioned in a more secluded area during the reception, but still pretty much involved with the surrounding guests and party.
you were pretty sure she could be front and centre, right next to you, cause your husband? couldn't take his eyes off you.
he was completely enamoured with you. wouldn't stop smiling and addressing you as his wife.
you couldn't lie. you were just as enamoured with him. your husband.
you only got more and more nervous as the time for the reveal got closer.
you knew he was going to love it. that was a given.
but still, finally revealing something that was a surprise was always nerve-wracking.
you knew how important it was for both of you to have some time for yourselves at your wedding.
it was also something all your married friends defended with all their might.
and you agreed, and when you told hyunjin, he did as well. you both needed some time to breathe and just be.
and so, you told your wedding planner that it was non-negotiable.
and what better time to finally reveal your surprise than when you were both alone? away from the curious looks of all your guests.
your wedding planner caught your eye while you were both going around your guests, engaging with them and making sure they were enjoying themselves.
she signaled you it was time, and so you shakily took a deep breath and squeezed your husband's hand, getting his attention away from the conversation he was having with the boys and to you.
"everything okay, wife?" he furrowed his eyebrows in concern, but nothing could hide the pure happiness in his eyes.
"cmon, husband, time to take a breather"
his smile widened, like it had done every time you called him your husband, and you couldn't help but match his smile with your own.
you both excused yourselves to your guests, and you guided him to the room your wedding planner had assigned to you.
you went in first, and it was empty, just as planned.
it had minimal furniture, some beverages and snacks for you both, next to a deep green couch you both loved.
he didn't waste another minute, and as soon as the door was closed, he circled your plush waist with his arms and pulled you close, being very careful to not mess with your dress.
your own circled around his shoulders, and you both couldn't stop smiling and giggling, not even during the many, many kisses he wanted to steal before it was time to join the party again.
"baby-" you giggled mid-kiss; he hummed in acknowledgement.
"i have a surprise for you" you stated with your eyes closed, enjoying your husband's lips on your neck
"yeah..?" he asked without even detaching himself from you.
"hmm.. but you need to let me blindfold you first"
that got his attention.
"oh?" he looked at you, a smirk pulling at his lips.
"don't be dirty-minded, husband, those are saved for our honeymoon."
"is that a promise?" he asked, stealing another kiss from you "i'll hold you to that" he whispered against your lips.
for a moment, you almost wanted to postpone the surprise and indulge him. but you couldn't.
you knew the artist and the photographer were waiting outside for your signal.
sure, you wanted it to be revealed away from the curious eyes of your guests, but you still wanted the moment documented for you both to reminisce later.
you guided him to the table, and let him drink a sip of champagne before blindfolding him. stealing some kisses of your own, and positioning him where you wanted him to be.
"are you ready?" you asked him.
"oh yes, i am" he squeezed your hand and pulled it to his lips, kissing it.
"is it edible, though?"
"no" you giggled.
"then I'm already disappointed" he pouted, and it took everything in you to not kiss it away.
"wait here, okay? i need to go get it"
"okay... don't leave me for long, though"
"i could never"
you smiled nervously, and he sensed it 'cause he squeezed your hand before you let it go.
you made sure he couldn't actually see anything with the blindfold on.
you held the door open as they quietly entered the room, trying to make as little noise as possible, and looked back at him. you could tell he was getting nervous, trying to get any clues possible.
after everything was positioned in its place, and the artist was making sure everything was okay under the cloth covering the painting, you resumed your place next to your husband, and you held his hand.
"okay baby, are you ready?" you spoke softly, and the nervousness was evident in your voice.
"no need to be so nervous, wife, anything you give me will be treasured for the rest of my life."
god, this man... you'd marry him all over again. for the rest of your life.
you took a deep breath and helped him remove the blindfold.
and it was adorable how confused he looked. he looked at you, and you know he was questioning you about what was going on.
"i wanted this to be a surprise for you, but the reveal will be a surprise for us both"
you can tell he was still confused, if not more than before.
you cupped his face with one hand and guided it to look ahead, you gave the artist a nod, and she started to uncover the painting with a smile on her face.
both of you were speechless.
tears filled your eyes immediately, and you couldn't contain the marvellous gasp that left your lips. you both squeezed each other's hands at the same time, in an attempt to get strength to keep upright.
you both got closer and silently admired the painting before you.
everything else is a blur. the music outside is just background noise; the shutter of the camera not even registering to you both.
the painting was even better than what you imagined. and it was not even completed.
she captured a moment you didn't even notice being captured.
you were both outside, a break between takes.
the greenery around you looked like a frame.
the golden light of the sun setting shone behind you like a halo.
but the most beautiful part?
the most heart-wrenching part?
the looks you shared.
the way he looked at you, like you were the most valued prize he had ever earned in his life. way more valued than any award or gift he had ever received in his career.
the way his finger moved a strand of hair behind your ear.
and the way you looked at him back, with so much love in your eyes, you couldn't even comprehend how she managed to capture it so beautifully on canvas.
years ago, you'd saved paintings like this because you knew that a moment could be turned into something you'd keep forever in a very special and personal way
you'd wanted one for your wedding.
and now you have it.
and you were right.
you knew right then and there that no matter what your future holds, what your marriage will look like years down the road, this right here will be something you'll both cherish for the rest of your life.
"thank you so much," your voice shook as you hugged her tight, grateful for what she had gifted you.
you looked at hyunjin as you tried your best to wipe away the tears running down your face, only to see his own cheeks wet with tears.
he looked mesmerised.
one hand in his pocket, while the other hovered over the painting. following the lines on the canvas. imitating the brush strokes.
his lips wobbled as he barely contained the emotion.
you joined his side again, hand stroking his back reassuringly.
he looked at you. so much to say, and yet no need to verbalise any of it.
at least for now.
you know him. you know what hides behind those big brown eyes of his.
the love. the gratitude. the awe.
you cup his face, stroking it gently with your thumb, drying the tears still streaming down his face.
"do you like it?" you asked softly, your voice still shaken with emotion.
he scoffs in disbelief. as if... how could you even question that? wasn't it painfully obvious?
he straightens his back, pulling his hand from his pocket and placing it on your waist instead, pulling you as close to him as physically possible. his other hand still holds your own, the one resting against his face.
"i love you so much," he whispers, his voice shaken with emotion. "i honestly can't believe how lucky i got to have you in my life."
fresh tears spill down both your cheeks, your smiles wide despite the overwhelming emotion.
"i love you too," you sniffle, lips wobbling. "so much it hurts."
he sobs, overwhelmed with emotion, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. all the things you both can't put into words pour into it.
you're sure you've ruined your makeup beyond salvation.
and honestly? you don't even care.
you'd do it all over again, a million times over, if it meant being in this moment again.
neither of you has the ability to say anything right now.
and that's more than fine.
whatever it is either of you wants to say can be said another time, when you've both had time to process the emotional ordeal.
for now, you stand there a little longer, holding each other and admiring the beautiful painting that captured your love and the beginning of your future so magically.
you both know how uncertain the future is.
but you both hope this painting will always remind you of what it's all about.
i also cannot stop thinking about the man thats making everyone gay
bf!san x f!reader
content: morning intimacy, clingy!san, munch!san, san loves talking to his girl(not you 1% of the time), oral, fingering, strong armsmsm...
wc: 1.5k
thinking about san...
you hated to be one of those girls, but your boyfriend was heaven.
he feels like his bones were made to accommodate the slope of your hands along his neck and along his mountainous shoulders. you liked stirring swirls with the tips of your acrylics into his messy black hair in the morning.
the sun streams through the half-broken blinds of your apartment, blanketing san in a patterned ray of light. his gentle eyes closed sleepily, practically purring at the feel of your hands and your body warmth beneath him. you lie with your back against the headrest, pillows stuffed beneath your lower back, whilst san lounges comfortably with his head in your lap.
his big, soft hands hold your thighs together like a pillow he fears will iceberg beneath his ear. the comforter is thrown haphazardly over your bed, the fitted sheet lifting off the corners of the mattress. proof of a… busy night.
every time you all but shift beneath him, he grumbles and holds your thighs together. “move again, and i’ll lock your legs together.”
tempting, but you did not need to rile him up this early in the morning. san was much like a cat. cute, fickle. particular.
you wont sit still? he'll do something to help you to relax.
the fingers on your thighs splay wider as if to grab more of your flesh, and he turns his head and begins dusting the tops of your thighs with kisses.
“my sweet, pretty girl.” san murmurs against your skin, a teasing, pouty tone to it. this is how it starts. with buttering you up.
he moves the blanket so his broad shoulders are exposed to the gold morning light, the grey tanktop doing little to hide the proof of his hard work. he can almost feel the way your eyes laser in on his back, and he can't help but smile as his wandering hands move to slip your panties down your legs smoothly. his warm kisses never cease, sensual and promising.
your hands slip away from his hair in surprise, and he nearly throws a fit as he grumbles and grabs your wrists and brings them back to the top of his head. his hands are back on your body in no time, holding both sides of your waist as you might melt through his fingers and massaging your hips with that perfect amount of pressure.
the feeling evokes a content sight out of you, and you find your upper body stretching subconsciously.
“there we go, big stretch, babydoll. good morning to you too,” san teases you with that stomach-flipping grin, and you narrow your eyes to tease him back. he, however, drags his worked, big hands down your waist, along the curve of your hips, back down to your thighs, where he wastes no time in spreading your legs in a way that can only be described as greedily.
“i wanna say good morning to her too…” he growls very quietly under his breath, hastily pushing your thighs back and up against your stomach. “she's always so happy to see me.”
the evidence of “her excitement” is clear: strings of arousal that cling to your lips, spread nice and pretty from the way san holds your legs open. his hands travel along your outer thighs, up your sides, all the while his head lowers between your thighs, eager.
“you were excited first,” you attempt to retort, to resume some semblance of control. you knew you had none; you were so weak for him. and when his heated tongue lay flat against your cunt, and his thumbs pressed into your lower stomach, you had only been proven right.
he squeezed your body like a stress toy, the muscles in his back twitching with every register of your taste. he moaned, so prettily. his mouth moved slowly and deliberately. leisurely, open-mouth kisses. deep, wide licks and hungry swallows. anyone he could tell he was doing it 100% for you would know he was lying if they saw and heard the way san was making out with your pussy.
your head falls back against the headboard, the bones in your legs liquefying as your boyfriend eats breakfast.
“hello, beautiful,” he purrs into a suckling kiss against your clit, and you feel an overwhelming mix of emotions come over you. you grip his hair harder, and he bites his bottom lip with a grin and a laugh as he spits between your pussy lips.
shame, embarrassment, arousal that burned too bright, it ached low in your stomach. you hated it when he talked to your cunt. but the way your stomach tightened in response spoke volumes every time.
when he starts kneading your lower stomach, deep and slow like he was working knots out of you, and gently kitten licking right under your clit, you pull his hair so hard he hisses in pain.
“aww, baby, you’re making this so hard for me.” san pouts and one of his hands lightly smacks your stomach. “i'm tryna keep you clean, but you won't stop dripping all over the sheets, always so messy!”
you sniffle and moan, one of his hands falling away from your waist and slithering between your legs, gathering the stickiness he's pulled out of you all over his middle fingers.
your body twitches at the new touch, and san moans long and low around your clit as he slides his fingers knuckle deep inside you, quick to scrape against that spot, and stars were bursting at the back of your skull.
“d-oh fuck… s-san, mmm…” your words dissolved into mindless, blissful pleasure. a horny smile spreads across your lips as san pushes his fingers deeper into your cunt.
“my gorgeous, sloppy girl.” san slurs against your pussy, his eyebrows furrowing as he eats you like he was imagining it was your lips. his eyes close and his hand squeezes tighter, his thumb presses deeper. his fingers curl harder inside of you, his tongue turns merciless against your clit, and his moans drag feelings out of you that should be illegal.
for some reason, you just could not take it this morning; it all felt so intense for some unknown reason. your hips bucked against his mouth, his fingers repeatedly caught on the ridge inside of you, and your legs began to shake.
san pouts and clicks his tongue out of pity, moving his fingers in deep, wavelike strokes that made your throat feel like somebody was trying to pull it out of you through your stomach. “aww, babydoll, you’re shuddering. it feels so wrong when you cum without me kissing you.”
this is true. he loves to drink your noises when you cum, feel the warmth of your teeth as you shatter on his dick, fingers, abs… etc. he would normally abandon the meal and just finger you until you snap, but, god. he couldn't stay away from your pussy.
warm and sweet and wet. your plush thighs hugging his ears like muffs. your nails against his scalp like a reminder of how he makes you feel. he frowns, like some innocent, wronged cat whose tail you’ve stepped on. but the way his fingers curl and the way he kisses your clit tell different stories.
the hand still holding your waist, and effortlessly your body against the bed, lands another slap against your stomach, and your limbs jerk.
“c’mon, let go, sweet girl. cum. it'll feel so good if you do, and it’ll make me sooo happy,” and he really couldn’t help himself at this point. his lips suction to your clit one last time, pulling away with a wet pop, wasting no time and lifting himself and swallowing your parted lips in a heavy kiss.
his fingers fucked you faster, his thumb moving up to circle your slick clit in place of his unfair mouth. he nibbles your bottom lip with a grin and kisses you so deep with a desire to take you can’t find your breath.
“don't you wanna make me happy, babydoll?” he practically begs into your mouth, and everything inside of you screams to make your heaven of a boyfriend happy. you cum so hard you would’ve thought he was fucking you.
then again, that's how it is with san every single time, and you still haven't gotten tired of it. he just knows what to do, so assertive, so caring, such a man.
coming down from your high, your grip onto his tanktop and bury your face into his neck, huffing and puffing, whining softly as his fingers slowly circle inside of you, working it out as he whispers praises in your ear.
you breathe in the smell of his cologne from the day before, and it makes your stomach tingle. vanilla, whiskey, patchouli, something so intoxicating it's hypnotic. the sun paints his tanned skin a radiant gold, and suddenly you get overwhelmed with the urge to bite him.
you do. he complains with a return bite to your shoulder, and you moan in response. he pauses and licks the bite and smiles, squeezing your waist with anticipation.
you’ve riled him up again.
btw the fragrance im refrencing is nightclubbing by celine. he mentioned he wore it in an interview one time and im a huge fragrance nerd and the notes are so sexy
Hi! I was reading some of your work and I love it so much! I was wondering if you could write the LADS men dealing with an MC who’s struggling with loneliness and depression which makes her very clingy to them? Recently I’ve been dealing with severe depression and isolation, and with my best friend leaving the country soon I’m gonna be alone, fanfics are my form of comfort right now. Please and thank you :)
Author’s Note : Thank you for your sweet words, anon. I hope you continue to enjoy my writing. 🤗 I pray I did your request justice and that it brings you some peace of mind, and perhaps even a smile. 🥺
Synopsis: a collection of soft, slighty melancholic Love and Deepspace drabbles, written with a clingy, emotionally vulnerable reader who simply wants to hold onto the people they love
Pairing : all the LIs separately, including Valko x reader
Trigger/content warning : established relationship, mild angst, fear of abandonment, clingy behavior, separation anxiety, emotional distress, depressive thoughts,hurt/comfort, comfort-focused
ALWAYS BACK TO YOU
XAVIER (word count : 289)
You stir in your sleep and instinctively reach for the other side of the bed, where Xavier is usually asleep beside you. Your fingers meet only empty sheets.
The mattress is still slightly warm beneath your touch.
Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you sit up.
You check the living room first.
Empty.
The kitchen.
Empty.
You knock on the bathroom door and push it open.
Empty.
Your pulse begins to pound in your ears, each heartbeat louder than the last. You tell yourself not to overreact, that Xavier would never leave without a reason.
But the reassurance doesn’t stick.
A familiar panic starts to claw at your chest, and your breathing turns shallow.
Waking up without him beside you feels colder than it should.
Then you hear it—
The soft click of a key turning in the front door.
You rush toward the sound, and the moment the door opens, your eyes meet Xavier’s.
Relief hits hard.
Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Where were you?” your voice is barely above a whisper. “I woke up, and you weren’t there.”
“I went to the bakery,” he says gently. “You were sleeping so soundly, Starlight. I didn’t want to wake you.”
Your grip tightens, and he feels the slight tremor running through your body.
Xavier understands.
He lets the paper bag of still-warm pastries slip from his hand onto the floor and wraps both arms around your waist, drawing you close.
Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, he murmurs against your hair, “I’m sorry, Starlight. Next time, I’ll leave you a note.”
He leans back just enough to look at you, his gaze tender.
Zayne comes home after another long shift at Akso Hospital to find you sitting quietly on the couch, completely absorbed in something resting in your lap.
When he sits down beside you, the cushion dips under his weight. With practiced ease, he loosens his tie in a single motion before leaning closer to see what has captured your attention.
It’s a photo album, its pages filled with memories the two of you have made together over the years.
“Zayne, don’t you think we look older in these newer photos?” you ask, running your fingertips over the page before looking up at him.
Zayne hums quietly as he studies the photographs.
“Aging is only natural,” he replies.
You lower your gaze again, your chest tightening.
“I don’t want you to grow old,” you whisper. “If you get old, it means you’re getting closer to death.”
“Life and death come hand in hand,” Zayne says, the doctor in him answering with calm honesty. “Everyone dies eventually.”
Your eyes fill with tears.
“I don’t want you to die,” you murmur, your voice breaking. “If you do, I’ll be alone.”
Zayne’s expression softens.
He takes your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing across your knuckles.
“Let’s not dwell on things beyond our control,” he says gently.
He lifts your hands to his lips and presses a gentle kiss against them.
“Right now,” he murmurs, his gaze steady, “I’m here with you.”
“So let’s focus on the present and spend every moment we can together.”
Living in Whitesand Bay means you and Rafayel can visit the beach whenever you want.
As a Lemurian, Rafayel is happiest in the ocean, where the waves seem to welcome him home.
You sit in a floaty while he paddles behind you, pushing you along at a leisurely pace.
A mischievous grin spreads across his face. Before you can react, he flicks the floaty, tipping you straight into the water.
Rafayel dives after you, laughing at your bewildered, slightly unimpressed expression.
A moment later, the two of you break through the surface of the water at the same time.
Then a larger wave rolls in, pushing you several feet away.
Your eyes widen.
Rafayel has his back turned, watching the horizon, effortlessly balanced on the water as if he has no care in the world.
A sudden worry tightens in your chest.
You swim back to him, feeling as though you’re fighting against the waves until you can wrap your arms tightly around his hips, clinging to his wet skin.
“Using me as a floaty now, Cutie?” Rafayel teases, glancing over his shoulder.
You press your forehead against his back.
“How do I know the waves won’t take you away from me one day?” you murmur, your voice trembling for reasons that have nothing to do with the cold ocean water.
Rafayel gently takes hold of your arms and turns in the water, drawing you around to his front until you’re floating against his chest. He brushes the wet strands of hair from your face.
“Even if they do,” he says, “this fishie will always swim back to you.”
You sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing your eyes and yawning as Sylus moves around the room, getting ready.
It’s the middle of the night, a time when most people are already asleep. For Sylus, however, the day is only beginning.
With sleepy, half-lidded eyes, you watch him button his shirt.
A familiar sadness settles in your chest when you remember where he’s going. As the leader of Onychinus, another meeting, another deal, is waiting for him.
Luke, Kieran, and Mephisto are going with him, as they always do. It should make you feel better.
It doesn’t.
Fully dressed, Sylus steps in front of you, his broad frame towering between your knees.
You wrap your arms around his waist and press your face against his stomach, feeling the warmth of him through the fabric of his shirt as you breathe in his familiar scent.
“Do you have to go?” you ask, the words sounding dangerously close to a child’s plea.
“I’ll be back before you know it, sweetie,” he says, his fingers combing gently through your hair.
You refuse to let go.
Sylus knows that although you’ve accepted who he is - the ruler of the outlawed N109 Zone and the leader of Onychinus - you still hate the danger that follows him everywhere.
He scoops you into his arms and lays you down on his side of the bed.
Leaning over you, he presses a kiss to your forehead.
“By the time you wake up,” he mummers, tucking the blanket around you, “I’ll be right back beside you.”
You walk into the kitchen barefoot, wearing nothing but one of Caleb’s T-shirts. It’s far too big for you, hanging loosely against your frame.
You follow the smell of food and find Caleb standing at the stove, his back to you, dressed in sweatpants and an apron tied over his bare torso.
You don’t announce yourself.
Instead, you stay quiet and watch him move around the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
It’s an ordinary sight, but one you treasure.
As the colonel of the Farspace Fleet stationed in Skyhaven, Caleb lives a life where ordinary moments can disappear without warning. Every time he boards a ship bound for the Deepspace tunnels, a part of you fears he might not return.
Caleb turns and sets two plates on the dining table. The moment he notices you, he walks over and smooths his thumb gently over the crease between your brows.
“Keep frowning like that and you’ll get wrinkles,” he teases, flashing the boyish grin that belongs only to you - a stark contrast to the composed colonel the rest of the world sees.
You lift the dog tag that never leaves his neck, holding it in your palms.
“If only our time together could always be this ordinary,” you whisper, your gaze fixed on the tag.
Caleb’s expression softens with understanding.
He slips an arm around your waist and lifts you effortlessly, settling you directly on his robotic arm.
“No matter where my missions take me,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead lightly against yours, “I’ll always fly back to you.”
You and Valko have escaped the hustle and bustle of Linkon City for a few days in his wooden cabin, tucked deep within the woods.
Out here, your boyfriend can truly be himself.
No prying eyes.
No need to hide his wolf hybrid form - his bushy tail swaying behind him, wolf ears twitching at every sound, and claws extending from his fingertips.
You breathe in the scent of morning dew and pine. A few steps behind him, you watch the muscles shift beneath his broad back as he walks through the forest.
Then, without warning, Valko drops to all fours and sprints ahead. Your heart drops with him. He always seems different here - lighter, calmer, as though he has finally returned home.
And that thought terrifies you.
What if one day he keeps running?
What if he never comes back to you?
Something large crashes into you from the side.
Valko barrels back out of the trees, knocking you both into the damp grass and rolling you through the wildflowers.
He grins down at you, small canines peeking out as he proudly holds out a bouquet of freshly picked daisies.
With one hand, you scratch gently behind his wolf ear.
“I hate imagining a day when you run off and never come back,” you admit, your voice quiet.
Valko’s grin fades into something more serious.
“That will never happen,” he says.
“You’re my mate. Fate itself bound us together, and no forest in the world could make me leave you behind.”
Permanent tag list : @cordidy @thehyperfixationgirly @pjselee
If you enjoyed this story, feel free to check out my other Love and Deepspace fanfiction
summary: in which your boyfriend has been teasing for months about wanting to film the two of you so you surprise him for his birthday
warning: dom mingi, sub reader, record yourselves, oral, squirting, fingering, spanking, edging, creaming, unprotected sex, creampie
genre: smut
pairing: idol mingi x afab reader
word count: 5.5k
masterlist
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The apartment was quiet when you pushed through the front door, the kind of quiet you still hadn’t entirely gotten used to since Mingi moved in. Not because he was particularly loud. Actually, that was a lie. He was incredibly fucking loud. If he wasn’t playing music from his phone while wandering around the kitchen, he was singing badly on purpose just to annoy you. If he wasn’t doing that, he was calling to you from another room instead of walking the ten feet necessary to find you. And if somehow none of those things were happening, there was usually a six foot something man draped across whatever piece of furniture you happened to be occupying, demanding attention as though you hadn’t sucked his dick fifteen minutes earlier.
A week without him and the apartment felt wrong. You kicked the door shut behind you and slipped out of your shoes, dropping your keys into the little ceramic dish beside the entrance before glancing automatically toward the clock on the wall. His flight had taken off a little over an hour ago. He had texted you he had gotten on the plane followed by him saying how much he misses you.
And then, because he apparently couldn’t allow himself to be sincere for longer than twelve consecutive seconds, he joked about hoping whatever birthday present you got him was expensive. You had sent back a picture of your middle finger and his response had been three heart emojis and a demand that you pick him up from the airport wearing nothing but a trench coat. Unfortunately for him, Hongjoong had already arranged transportation from the airport for all eight of them.
Fortunately for Mingi… you had other plans. Your gaze dropped toward the black shopping bag hanging from your fingers and a smile slowly pulled at your mouth. “You’re such an idiot,” you muttered, although whether you meant Mingi or yourself was becoming increasingly difficult to determine. You carried the bag toward the kitchen and set it carefully on the island beside the other presents you’d bought him over the past few weeks. Those were already wrapped. A new pair of headphones he’d mentioned wanting. A ridiculously expensive diesel jacket he’d stopped to stare at during one of your shopping trips before deciding he didn’t need another one. A necklace you found months ago and immediately thought would look good on him.
Normal girlfriend things.
The black bag was decidedly less normal.
You stared at it for several seconds before reaching inside and pulling out the box. A brand new camera. Nothing enormous or particularly professional. You hadn’t exactly walked into the store and announced you needed equipment capable of filming your sex life in cinematic 4K. Although the thought nearly made you laugh. You simply told the employee you wanted something small, good quality and easy to use.
The poor man had enthusiastically explained stabilization, battery life and video quality while you stood there nodding along, painfully aware that none of those specifications were the actual reason you were buying it.
Mingi was.
More specifically, Mingi’s big mouth was.
It had started months ago as a joke. No At least, he’d pretended it was a joke. You had been lying in bed one night when he’d made some offhand comment about how unfair it was that he couldn’t see what you saw whenever you were together. You had laughed. Mingi had laughed. Then he’d mentioned a camera and you had turned your head toward him. Mingi had immediately become fascinated by the ceiling. That should’ve been the end of it. Except he’d done it again. And again.
Never asking. Never pressuring. Just little comments dropped here and there, usually accompanied by that stupid grin of his before he’d conveniently change the subject whenever you looked at him for too long. You knew your boyfriend. Mingi joked about practically everything, but there was a particular look he got when the joke contained a little too much truth. The camera was definitely truth.
You ran your thumb along the edge of the box. The funniest part was that you didn’t think he’d ever actually ask you. For all the confidence Mingi possessed, for all the things he could whisper against your ear while buried inside you, the slightest hint of embarrassment, this apparently lived in the tiny category of things capable of making Song Mingi shy.
So you had decided you would surprise him for his birthday. You opened the box. The blue camera sat neatly inside alongside its charger, battery and instructions. You pulled everything out, leaning against the island while you skimmed through the little booklet. Charge battery fully before first use. Easy. Insert memory card. Adjust video settings. Connect to compatible device…
You stopped, eyes slowly narrowing. You looked at the camera. Then at the instruction booklet. Then back at the camera. “Why am I nervous?” The empty apartment offered absolutely no sympathy as you scoffed and pushed away from the counter. “I’ve seen that man naked a thousand times.” You grabbed the charger. “We live together.” You plugged it into the wall. “I know what his morning breath smells like.” The battery clicked into place. “He cried over a dog food commercial last month.” You could feel your heart racing. “He’s had his tongue in my ass.”
None of this changed the fact that your stomach fluttered when you looked at the camera again. Because joking about it was one thing. Actually putting that camera in Mingi’s hands and telling him exactly why you bought it was another. And you knew precisely what would happen. First, confusion. Then realization. Then that wide eyed stare he got whenever you managed to genuinely catch him off guard. Then he’d probably ask if you were serious. Then he’d ask if you were sure.
Because underneath every dirty joke and shameless comment was the same man who still checked in with you over things you have done together countless times. That was part of why you decided you could give him this. You trusted him. The video wouldn’t leave the camera. It wouldn’t be uploaded anywhere. It wouldn’t be stored somewhere either of them couldn’t control. It was theirs, and if you ever decided you didn’t want it to exist anymore, Mingi would delete it without argument. You already knew that. Which left only one remaining problem. Where the hell were you supposed to put the camera?
You slowly turned toward the bedroom and narrowed your eyes. “Oh, Jesus Christ.” Ten minutes later, you apparently became a director. “No.” You moved the small tripod from the dresser to the bookshelf. “No.” Back to the dresser. You tilted the camera slightly downward. “Absolutely not.” You snatched it up again. By the fourth attempt, you were standing in the middle of your bedroom with one hand planted on your hip, glaring at an electronic device as though it had personally offended you.
“This was supposed to be his problem.”
Your phone buzzed from the bed. You glanced down at it. It was Mingi saying they landed. You looked from the message to the camera sitting innocently on your dresser and tossed your phone back onto the bed and stood, turning toward the camera with renewed determination. You picked up the camera again and your stomach flipped. Mingi had spent months joking about wanting this. Tonight, he was finally going to realize his girlfriend had been listening.
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It was nearly past 7:30 when you finally heard the familiar scrape of a key against the lock as you stepped out of the bathroom. “Shit.” Your head snapped toward the bedroom door as the lock turned again, followed by the unmistakable thud of something heavy hitting the floor in the entryway. His suitcase, probably. Apparently wherever he’d been dropped off, Mingi had decided the final stretch of his journey needed to be completed at a sprint.
“Baby?”
“In here!” You tightened the towel around yourself, wet hair dripping down your back as you stepped into the hallway. You intended to shower earlier. You also intended to have his presents arranged nicely on the coffee table, put on the little outfit you picked out and perhaps look somewhat composed when your boyfriend finally walked through the door. Instead, you spent entirely too long fussing with the camera, reorganized the bedroom twice for no logical reason, lost track of time and ended up in the shower approximately eight minutes before Mingi got home.
So much for seduction.
You barely made it around the corner before you saw him. Mingi stood just inside the apartment with his hood pulled over his head, black sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a black Calvin Klein shirt swallowing most of his frame. His backpack was still hanging from one shoulder. His suitcase had indeed been abandoned beside the door, and he looked exactly like someone who had spent the better part of his day navigating airports and sitting on a plane. Tired and rumpled.
His eyes found you then immediately traveled downward as he dropped his backpack and took three enormous strides across the apartment before his arms wrapped around you, hauling you against him so suddenly that you squealed and grabbed his shoulders. “There you are.” His voice was muffled against your neck and your smile softened immediately as Mingi folded himself around you, both arms locked securely around your waist while he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
His entire body seemed to sag against yours, like he’d been running on whatever scraps of energy remained purely because he knew this was waiting at the end of the night. “You’re sweating,” you murmured.
“It feels like Satan outside.”
“And you’re crushing me.”
“Don’t care.”
“Mingi.”
“No.”
You laughed, slipping your arms around his shoulders despite the precarious situation involving your towel. “You have to let me go eventually.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You still have your shoes on.”
“Don’t care.”
“Your suitcase is literally blocking the door.”
“Tomorrow problem.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling too hard for the gesture to carry much weight as Mingi breathed deeply against your neck. His nose brushed slowly along your skin. “You smell good.”
“I just showered.”
“I can see that.” Something about the way he said it made your eyes narrow as one of his hands moved to slide up under your towel and grip your ass. “Mingi.”
“Mmm?” His lips pressed against the side of your neck. Nothing particularly heated. Just one lingering kiss, followed by another closer to your jaw before his face disappeared against you again and his hand squeezed against your ass as you threaded your fingers into his short hair. “Did you miss me?”
Mingi finally lifted his head and his expression made the answer embarrassingly obvious. “A week.”
“You’ve survived longer.”
“Didn’t like it then either.”
You smiled, teasing him. “Poor baby.”
“Exactly.” His arms tightened around you, his hand on your ass lingering. “I’ve suffered.”
“You were in Japan.”
“Without you.”
“With seven of your best friends.”
“Not the same.”
“You called me six times yesterday.”
“Seven.”
“One was an accidental FaceTime.”
“It still counts.”
You laughed again, and Mingi watched you with that sleepy little smile you loved, eyes heavy from traveling but warm now that he was finally standing in your apartment again. Home. You leaned forward and kissed him and Mingi immediately melted into it. One hand spread across the middle of your back while the other remained securely against your ass, pulling you closer. The kiss remained soft. Unhurried. The kind that had less to do with wanting anything and more to do with finally being able to touch each other again.
When you pulled away, Mingi followed you for another kiss and you laughed against his mouth. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Happy birthday.”
Mingi smiled. “Thank you.” You kissed the corner of his mouth before attempting to step backward but arms didn’t move. You looked down. Then up. “Mingi.”
“No.”
“I need to get dressed.”
His gaze deliberately traveled down to the towel wrapped around your body then slowly returned to your face. “Do you?” You stared at him for all of two seconds before a laugh slipped out. “Actually…” Mingi’s eyebrows lifted as you made absolutely no attempt to move toward the bedroom or retrieve the clothes you’d supposedly needed to put on so badly. Instead, you stayed exactly where you were, one hand holding the towel securely against your chest while the other settled against his stomach.
“Actually what?”
Your smile grew and Mingi immediately looked suspicious. Last time you had that look, you handcuffed him to the bed. You glanced toward the clock. “You know, you still have a few hours before it’s technically your birthday here.” His brow furrowed. “Okay?”
“And I have an early birthday present for you.”
That changed his expression immediately. “An early present?”
“Mhm.”
“What is it?”
“If I told you, that would defeat the purpose of calling it a present.”
Mingi looked you over slowly, taking in the wet hair, bare shoulders and the fact that you were still standing in front of him wearing nothing but a towel. His eyes narrowed with dawning amusement. “Is the present you?”
You snorted. “You’re so predictable.”
“That’s not a no.”
“You already have me.”
“Best present I’ve ever gotten.” The answer came so easily that you couldn’t help smiling, but Mingi was already reaching for you again. His hands found your waist, pulling you back against him while his mouth curved into a pleased grin. “Come here, then.”
“Mingi.”
“What?” He leaned down, lips brushing your cheek. “You said early birthday present. I’m accepting.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“I have a strong theory.”
“Well, your theory is wrong.”
His head lifted and you nearly laughed at the genuine confusion on his face. Mingi glanced down at your towel again before meeting your eyes. “Then why aren’t you getting dressed?”
“Because technically…. I’m part of the gift.”
His grin returned instantly. “I knew you loved me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Deeply.”
“Debatable.”
“Obsessively.”
“Now you’re just making things up.”
Mingi laughed, wrapping his arms around you again and lowering his face toward your neck, but you caught his chin before his lips could reach your skin. “Wait.”
“What?” There was something about the way his expression changed that made your stomach flutter. The teasing disappeared just enough for him to actually study you. And you suddenly became acutely aware of what you were about to do. Buying the camera had been easy. Imagining his reaction had been very easy. Standing half naked in front of your boyfriend while preparing to tell him you were willing to make the video he’d been joking about wanting for months?
Apparently that was the part your nerves had been saving themselves for.
Mingi noticed. Of course he did. His hands loosened slightly around your waist. “Hey.” His eyes searched yours. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” You smiled. “Everything’s fine.”
“You got weird for a second.”
“I’m not weird.”
“You’re definitely weird.”
“Says you.”
“True.”
You laughed softly, and some of the nervousness loosened inside your chest as Mingi waited. You ran your thumb absently along his jaw before dropping your hand. “Remember that thing you’ve joked about wanting?” That gave him absolutely nothing. His face went blank. “You’re gonna have to narrow that down.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I want a lot of things.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“A Ferrari?”
“No.”
“New studio monitors?”
“No.”
“Dog?”
“You have Yunho for that.”
He laughed as you stared at him. “I’m talking about something you’ve joked about wanting us to do.” His mouth opened. Then closed. And for once, Mingi had apparently discovered patience. You could practically watch him sorting through every questionable thing he’d ever said to you before something finally clicked. His eyes flickered over your face. Then widened slightly.
“No.”
Your lips twitched as Mingi stared at you. “Baby.”
“What?”
“No fucking way.”
You couldn’t hold back the laugh this time. “What?”
“Are you serious? You’re finally gonna let me cover you in candy?”
You stared at him with a blank expression and he frowned. “What?” You continued staring at him and Mingi just stared right back. “What?” He repeated and you shook your head. “Nothing.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Instead of answering, you reached down and grabbed his hand. “Come here.” Mingi let you pull him along without resistance, although you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your head as you led him down the hallway toward your bedroom. “So it’s not the candy thing?”
“No.”
“Okay, because your face made that pretty clear.”
“Good.”
“But just so we’re clear, that’s still on the table?”
“Mingi.”
“Another time?”
You pushed open the bedroom door.
“I’m choosing to take your silence as a maybe.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Too late.”
You were laughing despite yourself as you walked inside, Mingi following close behind. The second you stopped, he nearly walked straight into you. “Okay.” His hands found your hips automatically, steadying you before he peered around your shoulder. “What am I looking at?” You turned in his arms. For someone who had apparently decided thirty seconds ago that his secret fantasy involved candy, he looked remarkably innocent now. His hair was still mussed from the flight, exhaustion lingering beneath his eyes, and there was a tiny furrow between his brows as he waited for you to explain why you’d dragged him in here.
Your nerves returned. Not enough to make you reconsider. Just enough to make your heartbeat pick up as you slipped away from him and walked toward the dresser. Mingi watched as you reached behind the small stack of presents you moved so you could deliberately use them to hide it earlier and picked up the camera.
Mingi’s eyebrows pulled together as you crossed the few steps separating you and held it out. He looked at your face. Then down at your hand and slowly, he took it. “A camera?”
“Mhm.”
Mingi turned it over in his hands, examining it with growing confusion. “You bought me a camera?”
“I did.”
“Why?” Mingi looked it over again. “Baby, I have a camera.”
“I know.”
“My phone has a camera.”
“I know.”
“And I think Hongjoong would actually murder me if I started vlogging.”
You laughed. “It’s not for vlogging.”
“Then what’s it for?”
You said nothing as Mingi looked up and you held his gaze. His brow furrowed as you deliberately glanced toward the camera in his hands. Then toward the bed. Then back at him. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You almost wanted to applaud him. “Mingi.”
“What?”
“The thing you’ve been joking about.”
“I’ve joked about a lot of things.”
“Yes, you’ve made that painfully clear tonight.”
“So what does a camera have to do with…” His voice trailed off. Finally. His gaze dropped. The camera suddenly looked significantly more dangerous in his hands as Mingi went completely still. You watched realization crawl across his face in real time. His lips parted as his eyes lifted to yours. Then went toward the bed. Then back to the camera. “Wait.” You couldn’t stop your smile as Mingi blinked. “Wait.”
“What?”
He stared at you like you’d just handed him a live grenade. “This is for…” You raised an eyebrow as he couldn’t even finish the sentence. The same man who had spent months making little comments about how hot it would be, who had smirked whenever the subject came up before conveniently pretending he was only teasing, was suddenly incapable of producing more than three consecutive words.
You folded your arms. “Well?”
Mingi looked down at the camera again. Then slowly back at you. “You bought this for us?” You nodded and his eyes widened another fraction. “For us to… Like actually?” A laugh slipped from you. “That’s generally how cameras work.”
“Baby.” The way he said it made your stomach flutter. All traces of joking had disappeared from his face. “You’re serious?” You stepped closer until only a few inches separated you. “You’ve been talking about wanting to record us for months.”
“I was joking.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“I was mostly joking.”
“Mingi.”
“Okay.” His cheeks were already beginning to turn pink. “I wasn’t joking.”
“I know.”
His gaze dropped toward you for half a second before snapping back to your face, almost as though the towel he’d been very interested in ten minutes ago had suddenly become far more distracting now that he understood exactly what you were offering him. “You really want to?”
You smiled. “Happy birthday.”
The silence that followed your "Happy Birthday" was thick, charged with a sudden, heavy electricity that seemed to vibrate in the small space between you. Mingi didn’t move for a long minute, his eyes locked on yours, the shock slowly melting into something far more dangerous. The shy, hesitant man who had been joking about this for months vanished in an instant. In his place was the Mingi you knew behind closed doors, the one who took what he wanted with a confidence.
A slow, wicked smirk spread across his lips, the kind of expression that told you exactly how much trouble you were in. He didn’t say a word as he lifted the camera, his thumb finding the power button with a decisive click. The small red light flickered to life, signaling that the recording had begun. He shifted his grip, angling the lens directly at your face, his gaze burning through you. “Well… then…" his voice had dropped an octave, becoming a low, gravelly rumble that sent a shiver racing down your spine. He didn't ask. He didn't hesitate. The power dynamic had shifted the second that lens was pointed at you. "Take the towel off." The command was blunt, stripping away any remaining hesitation. You felt your breath hitch, your heart hammering against your chest as you realized he had completely taken control.
You looked into the lens, then back at him, seeing the raw hunger in his eyes and slowly, your fingers loosened their grip on the fabric. With one fluid motion, the towel slid down your hips and pooled at your feet, leaving you completely naked in the dim light of the bedroom. Mingi didn't stop recording as he stepped forward, the camera held steady in one hand as he closed the distance. He didn't even put the device down, he wanted every second of this captured. He reached out, his large hand cupping one of your breasts, his palm engulfing the soft curve of it as he groaned low in his throat, his thumb finding your nipple and rubbing it in a slow, agonizing circle, teasing the peak until it was hard and aching. “God, I fucking love your tits," he rasped, his voice thick.
"Look at them on camera. So perfect. So fucking mine." He kept the camera angled perfectly, capturing the sight of his hand against you before he leaned down. He didn't let go of the camera, maneuvering his arm with practiced ease as he buried his face in your chest. He started with your left breast, his mouth hot and demanding as he sucked your nipple deep into his mouth. The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of his tongue swirling around the peak and the knowledge that the camera was recording every wet, sloppy sound. He moved to the other side, taking turns, his breath hot against your skin, leaving you trembling and desperate for more as your hands found the waistband of his sweatpants, your fingers digging into the fabric as you reached inside to find him.
He was already hard, thick and aching. You began to stroke him, your movements fast and urgent, matching the frantic beat of your heart. Mingi let out a guttural sound, a mix of a growl and a moan, before he abruptly pulled back. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he handed you the camera. "Your turn," he whispered. You took the device, your hands shaking slightly as you pointed it toward him and Mingi didn't waste a second. He stepped back and began to strip, his movements slow and deliberate for the benefit of the lens. You zoomed in as he kicked off his pants and shoved his underwear down, revealing his dick, thick and veined, standing proud and hungry.
"I think the camera makes you bigger," you teased, your voice breathless.
Mingi grinned. "I'm plenty big enough for you, baby." Without another word, he dropped to his knees in front of you. "Keep it on me." He didn't wait for a response. He dove in, his face burying itself between your thighs with a ferocity that made you gasp as his tongue thrust deep into your pussy, tasting you with a hunger that felt like it could consume you whole. He backed you up against the dresser, the hard wood pressing into your lower back as he gripped your thighs, hoisting your legs up onto his broad shoulders to give himself total access. You cried out, your head tossing back as he began to devour you.
The sensation of his tongue flicking expertly against your clit and rotating to thrust into you was almost too much to bear. You held the camera above him, watching the screen, the sight of him kneeling before you, eating you out with such desperation, sent a surge of heat straight to your core. The visual was the tipping point. Watching yourself be ruined by him on camera pushed you over the edge. You began to moan loudly, your hips jerking involuntarily against his face. Mingi sucked your clit hard into his mouth, creating a vacuum of pleasure that made your vision blur as he simultaneously thrust two of his fingers deep inside you, fucking you hard and fast with his hand while his mouth continued to torture you.
"Yes! Give it to me!" he muffled against you.
You started crying out, your voice raw, the camera shaking violently in your hand as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. You felt yourself begin to squirt, your juices spraying across his face and chin and Mingi pulled back just enough to look directly into the lens, a triumphant, grin on his face as he watched you unravel.
"You getting this, baby? Look how fucking messy you are," he chuckled, his voice dripping with pride as he reached up, grabbing the camera from your trembling hand and lightly smacking your drenched pussy with the back of the device before letting you slide down the dresser.
You stumbled forward, your legs feeling like jelly, and clung to him for support. You pressed your face into his chest, kissing st him while trying to catch your breath. But the fire hadn't gone out, it had only been stoked. Driven by a need to return the favor, you sank to your knees, staring up at him with hooded eyes. “You getting this, baby?" you whispered, mimicking his words and Mingi let out a low, appreciative laugh, holding the camera steady as you leaned forward to lick the length of his dick. You took your time at first, swirling your tongue around the tip, savoring the taste of him. Then, you opened wide and took him all the way in. You started slow, but as you felt him twitch in your mouth, you dug your nails into his ass, pulling him deeper and fucking him with your throat.
Mingi was losing it. He held the camera high, recording the sight of you on your knees, your cheeks flushed and your eyes looking up at him through your lashes. "Fuck, you look so good," he praised, his voice strained. "I'm gonna take this with me on the next tour… just to watch how good you look with my dick choking you while I come in my hand." The filthiness of his words sparked something in you. While still gagging on him, you reached down with one hand and began rubbing your clit frantically. You moaned around him, the sound muffled and guttural, before thrusting two of your own fingers deep into your pussy. You were riding your own hand now and his dick at the same time, a whirlwind of self pleasure and submission that made Mingi’s breath hitch.
Seeing you fuck yourself while deep throating him on camera was too much. Before either of you could reach the peak, he suddenly snatched you up by the waist. He was still holding the camera in one hand and grabbed your wrist and pulled your fingers out of your pussy with the other, sucking your fingers clean with a slow, deliberate lick that made you whimper as he backed you toward the bed, throwing you down until you were sprawled out on your back, legs open and inviting. He hovered over you, holding the camera to capture the angle of your wetness as he reached to grab his dick, rubbing the head of it against your clit and sliding it along the length of your pussy, teasing you, working you up again.
"Look at it," he whispered, glancing at the screen. "Your pussy looks so perfect on camera. So wet for me."
"Please," you begged, your hips arching off the bed. "Mingi, please fuck me."
He teased you for a few more seconds, tapping the head of his dick against your opening a few times, tap, tap, tap, before sinking into you in one deep, possessive thrust. He groaned loudly at the sight on the camera, the visual of his him disappearing into you making him lose all restraint. “You're so fucking loud," he praised, pounding into you with a rhythmic, punishing force making your pussy squelch loudly. "I love how loud you are for me." He didn't stop there. After a few minutes of relentless driving, he pulled out abruptly and flipped you over, making you land on your stomach with a soft thud, and immediately his hand came down in a sharp spank across your ass.
He held the camera over your shoulder, filming the red mark he’d left on your skin. He leaned down, teasing your other hole with the tip of his dick, pressing in and out just enough to make you gasp, before whispering, "Next time." Then he slammed back into your pussy not even giving you a chance to recover as he began pounding you from behind, each thrust hitting your g spot and sending sparks through your nervous system. You collapsed against the sheets, crying out his name, sobbing as the intensity of it became almost unbearable.
Your juices stained the bedsheets, a visceral testament to how thoroughly he was ruining you. And just as you were about to come, he pulled out. “Come here, take this," he commanded, handing you the camera as he moved back against the headboard. He grabbed you and pulled you back into his lap, your back pressed against his chest and your legs hooked over his arms to hold you up. You barely had a grip on the camera, but you kept it pointed at the two of you. On the small screen, you could see the recording, the sight of him filling you from behind while holding you up. The visual was destroying you as he began to fuck upward into you with a strength that made the entire bed shake as you watched yourself on the screen, the way your body jolted with every hit, the way your face was twisted in pure ecstasy.
You were a complete mess. You began to cream him, your walls clamping tight around him as you started to squirt again. The pleasure was so violent that you lost your grip, the camera slipped from your fingers and rolled to the edge of the bed, but it remained propped up just enough to catch everything and Mingi didn't even care about the camera anymore. He locked you in a tight, pinning your arms and hauling you back against him as he pounded into you with everything he had.
You were screaming now, sobbing about how good he felt, telling him that your pussy belonged to him and only him as you came with a force that left you shaking and sobbing his name over and over while he kept fucking through your orgasm, his movements becoming faster and more desperate until he finally let out a guttural moan of his own and came deep inside you, his body shuddering as he collapsed against you.
For several minutes, neither of you moved. You were both slumped together, drenched in sweat. Some of your juices and his own leaked out of you, dripping onto the sheets, all of it caught on the camera as Mingi leaned in, kissing your shoulder and whispering into your ear, "That’s the best birthday present you ever gave me." You let out a weak, breathless laugh, leaning your head back against him. "It's only for you.”
He grinned. "Though… I might show it to Yunho just to see how red his face can get." You let out a loud laugh and slapped his arm playfully. "Don't you dare." He pulled you closer, kissing you deeply and softly. "I love you."
You grinned, tugging his lip between your teeth. “You better.”
