𝜗𝜚 genre: smut | wc: 5.3k | au: husband! johnny
𝜗𝜚 pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader
𝜗𝜚 warnings: doctor! + dom! johnny, stay-at-home wife! reader, established relationship, domesticity, comfort, free use kink, oral (m! receiving), talking through it, edging, counting down, overstimulation, recording, rough sex, piv, praising, possessiveness, breeding kink, use of vibrator, cock warming, creampie, aftercare, positions — cowgirl/prone/missionary, pet names — baby/sweetheart
𝜗𝜚 summary: johnny comes home after a tough and frustrating day, you — his very loving and doting wife — takes care of him in the best way you can… after all, he does so much for you.
𝜗𝜚 aimee's thoughts 💭 : there’s something about the idea of being johnny’s stay-at-home wife makes my insides tingle. also, this era of johnny is what i imagined he would look like in this fic... do what you want with that info.
As you step out of your bedroom, you hear the front door open then shut, followed by a deep sigh. You peek your head from the hallway to see Johnny undoing his tie before burying his face in his hands, clearly frustrated and overwhelmed.
“Tough day at work?” You ask, leaning your shoulder against the archway. Your voice catches him by surprise and his features soften at the sight of you. “Were your patients mean to you?” You tease.
“A little,” he admits, a tiny smile threatening to pull from the corner of his lips. Removing his tie, he lets the fabric hang on the backrest of a nearby dining chair. He makes his way to you before stopping himself, looking down at his clothes. “I should probably shower before hugging you, just in case.”
“That hasn’t stopped you before,” you cock your head to the side, confused at the sudden concern before pushing it aside. “But I was just about to hop into the shower. Wanna join me?”
He nods and a relieved smile dances on his lips.
You both head into the bathroom and you turn the shower’s dial to the temperature comfortable for both you and Johnny — dialing back on the heat since you like it a little hotter than he does.
“What happened at work today?” You ask Johnny as you squeeze his body wash into the wet washcloth before telling him to turn around so you could wash his back.
He shakes his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary,” he lies.
“You don’t always come home frustrated like this.”
You feel his shoulders tense up before relaxing, letting you know he’s about to tell you what happened. When he does, you listen intently, offering him little hums as you signal him to turn around so you could wash his chest.
“So, are you thinking about leaving that hospital?” You wonder, handing him the washcloth to have him wash the rest of his body.
“Obviously it’s something I hope we could talk about,” he softly lets out. “The position at the other hospital pays more, but the one I’m working at now is only 20 minutes away from here.”
“Money hasn’t been an issue before,” you scrunch your eyebrows when you look up at him before switching positions, having him under the shower head to rinse off while you begin to wash your own body with another washcloth.
“Yeah I know,” he sighs. “But I don’t know, what if something happens. I wanna make sure we’re prepared.”
“What would happen?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “What if one of us is hospitalized or if we decide to have kids? What if one of our cars breaks down or one of us gets into an accident?”
You place your soapy hand on his glistening chest. “I get it,” you huff out a tiny laugh. “If this is an issue, then maybe I should start working again.”
He takes your hand and lowers it before signaling you to turn around. Taking the washcloth you’re using, he begins to wash your back for you. “When we got married, I promised I would take care of you.” He reminds you and you replay the conversation you both had when you finally had the opportunity to quit the god-awful job you worked while Johnny worked towards the goal that got him where he is now. “I intend on keeping that promise.”
“But not at the expense of you feeling like this,” you retort. “Do you want to take the other position because you want to or is it for the money?”
“It also has really great benefits,” he chuckles.
“Okay, would your workload lighten?” You question.
“Only slightly,” he giggles, handing you your washcloth and holding out a hand for you to help balance yourself as you wash the rest of your body. “A doctor’s workload doesn’t lighten no matter where you go.”
You look up at him, playfully rolling your eyes at his response.
“It’ll also be closer to my parents,” he softly admits, switching places with you again.
“Is that why you wanna move?” You allow the warm water to rise off your back as you await Johnny's answer.
“Part of the reason.”
You lift your hand to Johnny’s cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “I think that’s enough of a reason,” you reassure.
“You’re sure? I feel bad that I’ve been dragging you everywhere because of work.”
“At least this time it’s closer to where you grew up.” You turn to rinse off the last bits of suds on your body. “Plus, your parents love me. They’ll be happy to have their daughter in law closer to them and they can stop nagging you about us visiting them.”
Johnny lets out a laugh as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, bringing your back into his chest. “I love you,” he whispers. “Thank you for being open and understanding.”
You turn to face him, your bare chest pressing against his as he hugs you. Peering up through your wet lashes, you notice how he slicks back his hair away from his forehead and a droplet of water rolls from the tips of his hair down his neck.
“If the roles were reversed, I know you would do the same for me,” you reply. “I intend on taking care of you, too, in any way I can.”
After showering, you find yourself and your husband in bed. You listen to Johnny pour out his other frustrations regarding work. With a towel wrapped around your body and a towel wrapped around his waist, you sit on your knees as you rub your moisturizer onto your face and down your neck as he speaks.
“Yeah, I can definitely see why you’re frustrated,” you quietly let out, rubbing the excess moisturizer on your hands. “When do you think you’ll send in your resignation?”
“Maybe in a few months, six months tops. It’ll give us time to go apartment shopping before we move.”
You nod in agreement before reaching over Johnny to place your moisturizer on your bedside table. “Anything I can do to help you relax after the hectic day you had?” You question, straddling his lap as your hands rub against his shoulders. “I can give you a massage,” you pause. “Or do other things, if you’d like.”
Taking your hands into his, he entwines his fingers between yours. “What do you have in mind?” He questions with a slight lift of his brow and a tilt of his head.
“Something along the lines of you using me however you want,” you grin. “With a little bratiness thrown in here and there because I wouldn’t be your wife without it.” You pause for a second to give him a less explicit option. “Or I can make your favorite comfort meal. It’s up to you.”
With the way his lips lift into a smirk and the way he pulls your towel loose, you know his decision.
You place yourself between his thighs, untucking the towel that’s wrapped around his waist. Without further instruction or objection, you grab a hold of his cock and lay your head against his toned abdomen.
You use your tongue to lick against his shaft before pecking kisses against his reddened tip, feeling his cock harden at the touch of your lips. Swirling your tongue over his slit, he gathers your hair to one side and away from your face so he’s able to enjoy the view of his wife’s service.
He pets your cheek endearingly, silently encouraging you to take more of him. When you do, it’s just his tip your lips wrap around. You use your hand to stroke the rest of his length and he lets out a satisfied sigh.
“Stick your tongue out,” Johnny softly orders, grabbing a hold of the base of his hardened length. You obediently follow his command and he slaps his shaft against your tongue. The sight of you is so enticing, you see him grinning from ear to ear.
You take hold of his shaft and you suck on his tip. He lets out a small moan before his head lolls back from pleasure. His hips buck up into you ever so slightly, pushing further into your mouth.
“Impatient aren’t we?” You smirk as you use your thumb to circle his leaking tip. You peck tender kisses against his shaft, teasing him. “Want me to take all of it already?”
He nods and you see his pupils dilate at the sight of you. Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail, you reposition your lips against his cock’s head before engulfing him down your throat.
He sharply inhales before muttering ‘oh fuck’ under his breath at the feeling of your warm mouth around his length. Holding your head in place with your hair that’s fisted between his knuckles, he bucks his hips up into you and watches your lips meet the base of his shaft — soaking in the glorious sight of his lengthy cock disappearing into your mouth as you bob your head up and down.
Your gags bounce off the four walls of your shared bedroom. You slurp up your drool before spitting it back onto his cock and spreading it with your hands, knowing he’s a sucker for your sloppy head.
Using your mouth as his personal toy, he guides your head up and down before holding you in place as you gag.
“Breathe through your nose, baby,” he instructs and watches as you follow suit, smiling at how well you follow his directions. “That’s it, good job.” He chuckles in amusement as he lifts your head up again before guiding your mouth back down his shaft. “Good girl,” he deeply groans as he feels you swallow around his tip before hollowing your cheeks.
When he lifts your head by your hair, he roughly brings your lips to his while you position yourself with his length between your wet folds and pressing against your aroused clit.
You pull away from his kiss and plant your hands onto his chest, rocking your hips back and forth and mixing your wetness with the saliva coated around his cock. He sees a string of his precum follow your clit when you rub his tip against you.
His eyes are glued to your movements. One hand rests on your thigh while the other frantically searches for his phone on the bedside table. When he gets a hold of it, he quickly opens up his camera and the little ding coming from his phone tells you he’s recording a video.
As you continue teasing him, you feel him throb under you and his breathing suddenly deepens. He’s watching you through his phone screen and his eyes light up with lust. You notice how the protruding bump of his adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows and how his lips part, as if he’s thirsting for more.
“Slide it in,” he instructs, waiting for you to follow his words. He’s taken aback when you swiftly grab a hold of his phone and dodge his attempt to grab it back.
“Beg for it,” you smile sweetly as the image on him fills up his phone screen.
“Please stick it in, I wanna feel you around me.” He lets out but the lack of desperation in his voice causes you to shake your head.
You take a hold of his cheeks with your hand, forcing him to look directly into the camera you’re holding in front of him. Tilting your head to the side while moving your hips back and forth, you give him a disappointed, and exaggerated, sigh.
“I bet Dr. Suh is used to people following his instructions, huh?” You taunt. “It must really annoy you when your wife isn’t one of them.”
A wicked grin appears before he tries to take the phone from you once more, only for you to swiftly pull it back and away from him. When you push his chest back down, you bring the camera in his line of vision again.
“Come on, all you have to do is beg a little.” You giggle, dragging your thumb gently along his bottom lip before running it down the column of his throat. “I wanna hear how badly you want me.”
In that moment, you see his eyes darken and he makes direct eye contact with his phone’s camera, knowing you’re looking at his screen.
“Please let me fuck you,” he smirks. “Let me show you exactly who you belong to.” He pauses, bringing his hand up to the wrist of the hand you’re holding the phone in. He squeezes it slightly to prevent you from pulling away. “Let me fucking ruin you tonight, baby.”
His words ignite a fire in the pit of your stomach before he shoves his phone out of your hand and onto the other side of the bed.
Snaking his hand behind your neck, he frantically pulls you down to his lips before delving his tongue into your mouth, rolling it over yours before taking your bottom lip between his teeth.
“You want that, huh?” He speaks against your lips. “You want me to ruin you, over and over again.”
You mindlessly nod your head, quickly submitting to his previous words without needing to say it again. You lift your hips to give you enough room to maneuver his tip against your entrance before sinking onto his shaft, your needy cunt swallowing him effortlessly while your walls quickly mold to his size as he whispers ‘good girl’ against your lips.
He squeezes his hands against your hips, keeping you in place before lifting his hips to penetrate deeply into you — feeling his mushroom tip presses against your sweet spot.
You sit up, planting your palms against his warm chest with your fingers splayed out. Your nails leave crescent shaped indents as you dig them into him with every satisfying thrust.
His hands slide up your body and up to the sides of your neck and his thumb slips between your lips and against your tongue. Without being told, you begin sucking.
With one hand still planted on your neck, he halts his thrusts. He swiftly uses the thumb you sucked on to circle against your aching clit.
“Look at me,” his voice deepens as he stares into your eyes, flickering between them.
You’re squirming on top of him with the way his thumb works your ball of nerves. He taps the pad of his thumb against your clit, causing you to shudder and your velvety walls involuntarily pulse around his cock.
You try to muffle your noises with the way you’re pressing your lips together, only for a moan to slip out and opening the floodgates of noises he needs to hear from you.
“Get loud,” he teases. “A noise complaint won’t hurt.”
You press the palm of your hand against his mouth, silencing him. Just by the look in his eyes, you know it was a mistake. You feel him smirk against your palm right before his thumb picks up its pace.
Just as he expected, you bite down on your bottom lip as you’re grinding on top of him. He feels your walls tighten before you slide your hand down to his chest, bracing yourself for your orgasm.
“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” He taunts and you rapidly nod your head. “That’s too bad, actually. No you’re not.” He chuckles as he continues to circle your clit, confusing you. “You’re not gonna cum until I get to number one. If you think about looking away, I’m starting over. If you cum before I get to one, I’m putting you on a sex ban.”
He begins counting backwards from 10. By the time he reaches 8, your nails are clawing into his chest. When he reaches 5, the muscles in your body begin to hurt from how hard you’re tensing up. By 4, your toes are curling, your calves burning, and your tears begin to brim your waterline.
“3… 2…” he lingers before saying the last number until you let out a desperate wimper followed by a quiet ‘please’ to which he smiles. “1.”
Within a second, you allow yourself to let go and have your orgasm hit you. You shut your eyes and whimpers spill out from your lips as your body freezes from the shockwaves that course through your body. His thumb doesn’t waver and he’s rubbing your swollen clit until you’re begging him to stop.
You twitch upon his touch as his thumb taps against your overstimulated clit. A squeal is heard and you push his hand away from you, weakly pinning it against the mattress. Every muscle in your body relaxes and causes you to fall onto your husband’s chest.
“You’re so mean,” you tiriedly laugh as Johnny slides his finger up and down your bare spine.
“But that tone tells me you enjoyed it,” he teases before bucking into you again, causing you to jerk upwards. “C’mon, you’re not done.” He taps your thigh before instructing you to get onto your stomach.
Patting around the bed, he finds his phone and stops the previous recording before starting a new one. With your legs between his thighs, he gives your ass a nice, playful smack before placing the phone in your hand.
You hold his phone at arms length in front of you, ensuring both you and Johnny were in frame.
“Keep your eyes on the screen,” he grins before sliding himself into your entrance and your jaw drops at the sudden feeling of fullness. “Look away and I’m stopping, do you understand?”
You nod, looking at the screen like he instructed. Your eyes are glazed over and you see streaks of dried up tears against your face. He leans forward, caging you under him with his arms before his lips meet the shell of your ear, playfully tugging it between his teeth.
“Use your words,” he whispers.
“Yes, I understand.” you correct yourself, obediently.
“Yes what?” He smirks, looking at you through the screen before harshly thrusting into you. “Say my name.”
“Yes Johnny,” you whisper, jaw slacked open from his slow and hungry movements. Your eyes attempt to close, only for Johnny to remind you of his rules.
“You want me to stop?” He questions harshly, almost in disbelief.
You quickly shake your head, looking at him through the phone screen. “I’m sorry,” you let out. “Please don’t stop. You give him a pout. “I promise I’ll follow your instructions.”
Your begs cause him to grin against your cheek before planting a gentle kiss on your skin. Your eyes stay locked on Johnny who lifts himself to thrust into you. His hands push against your lower back and he uses you for his own pleasure.
His strokes are deep — harsh even — as if he’s taking out all his frustrations on your poor innocent cunt. His rough movements are accompanied by deep, guttural groans — almost animalistic and feral.
His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down his shaft as he penetrates into you, hitting your sensitive spot. You see his eyes lift to make sure you’re following the rules he placed upon you and to his surprise, you are — with your brows furrowed and your jaw dropped from the immense pleasure you’re feeling.
You’ve bunched up the sheets under your chin to bite on as he gives you his cock oh so well and in turn, it helps muffle your screams of pleasure so you’re not too loud.
“Lift your hips,” he orders and you follow through. He slides his hand under you, placing itself between your thighs. Your eyes widen, already knowing what he’s about to do.
He leans forward again, placing open kisses against your shoulder and setting his lips against the back of head. Johnny’s skilled fingers circle around your overly sensitive, swollen, and aching clit and your hips twitch up and into him from the sensitivity.
“You’re so pretty like this,” he coos. “So fucking pretty and all mine,” he mutters against your hair. “Don’t you think?”
All you do is nod, mind filled with nothing but haze as you’re focused on the pleasure he’s giving you.
“Say it.” You feel a devilish smile appear on his face. “Look in the camera and say who you belong to.”
You do as he says. “I’m yours.” You mumble.
“Uh uh,” he quietly and playfully scolds. “Say my name.”
“I’m Johnny’s.” Your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassed he’s making you talk as if someone else will be watching this video.
“Good girl,” he growls, punctuating every word with a deep and harsh thrust. “I love making love to your pretty little cunt.” He groans. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes.”
“I can use it however the fuck I want. You love when I fill you up, don’t you? You love when I mark you up from the inside with my cum, hm?”
His obscene words cause your heart to skip a beat and your stomach flutters before the muscles in your stomach tightens, feeling a build up of pleasure.
You rapidly nod your head at his words while your nails dig into the bed sheets that are already peeling off the corners of your mattress.
“I love when you cum inside of me, Johnny.” You whine, allowing your jaw to fall open as his hips harshly thrust into you, slapping of skin filling the room.
“Yeah?” He slyly chuckles. “What better way to show people you’re mine than to fuck my baby into my pretty wife?” He grins at the sight of you biting down on the bed sheets, your walls clenching around his shaft as you hear his words.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine. “I’m gonna cum,” you warn as your eyes watch his hips slap against your ass, your skin rippling with every rough stroke.
Johnny’s finger maintains the pace on your clit while you tremble underneath him. “Cum for me, baby.” He whispers into your ear and just like the obedient wife you are, you’re cumming on his cock for the second time that night. You sob into your sheets, muffled cries of his name could be heard before your hand releases your grip on his phone.
He feels you tighten around him while he fucks you through your orgasm and your inner thighs begin to tremble from the intensity. Slowing his movements, he reaches over to grab his phone, holding it in front of you.
“Look at how fucked out you look, sweetheart.” His voice drips with a hint of a condescending tone. He forces you to look at yourself when he takes a hold of your cheeks. “Beautiful, aren’t you?”
He forces your head up and down to nod before you give him a cockdrunk smile — eyes glazed over and your lips swollen and raw from how hard you’re biting down when you cum.
“You’re not done yet, are you?” You question, turning your head to look at him. His lips are inches away from yours.
“Not a chance,” he grins, allowing his phone to fall face front into the mattress. “Get on your back for me.”
You do as he says before he pulls your legs to drag you to the edge of the bed where he’s standing. He dips his tip into your sopping cunt eagerly and you swallow him with ease, making it easier to bottom out into you.
His thumb finds its way to your mouth again, watching you suck on it before letting your jaw hang open when you feel his cock’s tip bullying your g-spot.
With every thrust, he jerks you up the bed. His movements earn him loud and obscene noises that part your lips before his large hands grip onto your shoulders. He pulls you down in tandem with every jerk of his hips.
You place your hand against his stomach, attempting to slow his movements only to have him pin your hands against your mouth, muffling your noises.
He pants as his hips rut back and forth before he chuckles to himself, watching your thighs tremble. His thumb finds your clit again, carefully circling it as he watches your reaction. It’s clear you’re still reeling from the stimulation caused by your second orgasm, but Johnny loves it.
“I think I have a better idea,” he huffs, halting his movements.
He lowers his hands before opening the drawer of his bedside table. He pulls out your tiny battery powered vibrator.
“My thumb might not be enough this time,” he smirks. “Tell me no if you don’t want me to use it.”
You stay silent and Johnny takes that as an okay to continue. He slowly begins thrusting his hips again.
“Let’s start off slow, hm?”
You let out a tiny chuckle. “Going soft on me?” You taunt, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I’m surprised.”
He looks at you, amused by your words. “The highest it is, then.”
Your eyes widen right before the intense vibrations pulse against your sensitive clit. You open your mouth to say something only for a moan to come out instead.
“Cat got your tongue, baby?” He chuckles, erratically thrusting his hips into you.
“Ph-phone,” you manage to let out.
“You want me to record this?” Johnny smirks and you simply nod your head. He obliges, reaching over to grab his phone before starting a new recording.
Slowly lifting your hand, you take a hold of his camera before taking over the recording. You aim the camera to where the vibrator is — watching him penetrate into you while dragging your vibrator up and down your wet slit, focusing on your swollen clit.
Your hands are trembling as you’re watching him fuck you through the phone screen before you decide to end the recording and throw his phone to the side.
He leans into your neck, sucking on your favorite spot while your orgasm creeps up. Your hand tries to lighten the pressure he has on your clit, only for Johnny to pin his free hand over yours when he pulls away from your neck.
You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth and Johnny grins. “Is this gonna be your third orgasm, baby?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.
“Mhm,” you hum. “I’m so close.”
“Hold on, not yet.” He huffs before letting out a laugh. You know he’s going to start his countdown, painfully edging you.
“Please,” you beg. “I can’t h-hold it for 10 seconds.”
“Yes you can,” he smiles at you sweetly. “Now you know the rules.”
He begins counting down while he thrusts into you and you keep your eyes locked on his. By 7, your aching clit throbs — making you painfully aware of how desperately you need to cum. By 6, your visions begin to go hazy. When he reaches 4, your eyes begin to water from holding in your orgasm.
“3… 2…” he smirks. “…1.”
You scream out in pleasure as your orgasm hits you hard. Johnny doesn’t stop fucking you through your orgasm, but he does turn off your vibrator before cupping the sides of your face and giving you well deserved kisses against your lips.
“That’s my girl,” he praises. “Good job, I knew you could do it.” He softly chuckles, wiping away your tears with his thumbs before capturing your lips with his.
You feel every muscle in your body melt when you finally come down from your high.
“Wrap your arms around me,” Johnny instructs.
You do as he asks, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and keeping your legs around your waist. In one quick and swift move, you’re on top of him.
“I’m close,” he whispers. “Let me take it from here.”
You weakly nod your head as you rest against his chest. His tip pushes into your entrance once again, burying itself between your soaking walls. He thrusts his hips up and into you while you enjoy being used by your husband. His arms pin your body against him, keeping you as close to him as possible.
“I’m gonna cum,” Johnny warns.
You muster the strength to sit yourself up and you grind your hips against him, helping him reach his high quickly. His hands grip your waist when he cums inside of you, letting out a strangled groan when you quickly jerk your hips back and forth, milking every drop from him.
His tense body relaxes, telling you he’s emptied himself into your cunt. “C’mere,” he whispers, pulling you back down to his chest.
“Don’t pull it out yet,” you softly mumble as you peck kisses against his blushed chest.
“I won’t,” he chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist while the other cups the back of your head. “You okay? It was a little intense.”
“I’m more than okay,” you giggle. “I’m still on cloud nine.”
Johnny places a gentle, loving kiss against your forehead. His hand rubs circles against your lower back before rubbing your quivering thighs.
He shifts under you. “Give me a second to grab water,” he softly says and you slowly lift yourself off him. He returns with two plastic bottled waters and a container of prewashed green grapes.
Your eyes light up when you see the container, both of you knowing how often you’ve been eating them these past couple of weeks.
He cracks open the top of the water bottle and hands it to you, making sure you’re hydrated after your intense back to back orgasms.
“Thank you,” you smile before drinking nearly half of the bottle in one go. You lift a grape and place it into your mouth, enjoying the sweetness when you chew.
Johnny mimics your movements before he looks at you. “You know I’ll take care of you and our child if we were to have kids, right?” He suddenly lets out.
“I mean, you take care of me when we don’t have kids.” You grin, popping another grape into your mouth. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll extend that care to our child. Why are you suddenly bringing this up?”
“With the whole marking you from the inside and fucking my baby into you talk,” he shrugs. “I just wanna make sure you know.”
You lift your hand to comb through his disheveled hair. “Thank you,” you smile. “Like I said, there’s no doubt in my mind you’ll take care of us.”
He nods before suggesting to use the bathroom and to wash your bodies once more before bed. When you agree, you both step into the shower and quickly wash your bodies, ridding your body from the sweat that came with your intense love making session.
Johnny quickly strips and replaces the bed sheets while you gather the leftovers from the night before for tonight’s dinner and his favorite snacks to further comfort him after the stressful day he’s had.
Just as he’s done, you place the tray of food and snacks on the bed and you both excitedly hop into bed with you snuggled into his side as you watch a movie of his choice. He feeds you bites of his snacks after dinner while his thumb mindlessly brushes your waist from under your sleep shirt.
Once the movie ends, you attempt to throw away the packaging of his snacks you both finished. Your husband stops you, keeping you cuddled next to him.
“Thank you for taking care of me after work today.”
“It’s no problem,” you yawn. “You do so much, it’s the least I can do.”
Johnny doesn’t respond, but he squeezes you as he pulls you closer into his side.
“Is there anything you wanna talk about before we call it a night?”
You hear Johnny hum.
Sitting up, you look at your husband who moves a strand of fallen hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. He laces his fingers between yours as he holds it.
“Can we talk about the positive pregnancy test I saw in the bathroom trash this morning?”
not proof read, just saw pictures of how big he’s gotten lately and all i can think about is this
nothing turns johnny on more than knowing his cock is too much for you to handle. and he doesn’t feel bad about it either
he’s so big, but not just his dick— his entire body, especially in comparison to you. it’s so easy to man handle you and throw you around like you’re nothing but a sex doll. honestly, he’s fine with you dominating him sometimes, but nothing compares to the ego boost he gets when you struggle to take him
he sits back against against the headboard— legs spread and cock resting against his stomach. you sit on your knees in front of him, in awe of how huge he is. the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile when he sees how visibly nervous you are. how the hell are you supposed to fit that inside of you?
you position yourself over him and start lowering yourself, immediately feeling the burn from him stretching you out
“‘s okay baby, just a little more. you can take it,” he whispers as his hands push your hips down onto him, hissing at the warmth and tightness. he can’t help but laugh when you whine and cry out, you’re so cute when you try so hard to take him
his hands stay on your ass the entire time, guiding your hips to bounce you up and down. actually, you don’t even put any effort into it, he just uses you like a toy. and when you hide your face in the crook of his neck and cry because it’s too much? he doesn’t stop, instead he taunts you with fake sympathy while he makes you ride him even harder
“mm, my baby can’t take any more of my dick? :( yeah, it’s too much? poor baby~”
synopsis ➳ ❝an arranged marriage with the man the entire land is afraid of. the man with a crimson eye. they call him the grim reaper. cold, ruthless, unforgiving. yet you are drawn to him, curious to see the man hiding behind the cold, hard exterior. and the man behind is hauntingly beautiful but your forever with him is not promised.❞
pairing ➳ husband general!seungcheol/ x wife noblewoman!reader
genre ➳ historical romance (joseon era), angst, pining, smut.
wc ➳ 25.4k + 1040 (patreon)
warnings ➳ blood, mentions of war, scars, minor character death, attachment issues, arranged marriage, mentions of cheating, severe injury, miscommunication. cheol is an ass in the first half, reader is lowkey a simp, jealousy, big dicc cheol, bondage, virgin sex, rough, unprotected sex, fingering, teasing, edging, dirty talking, praise kink.
a/n: this is a work of fiction, so take this with a grain of salt. it will be historically inaccurate, so my apologies beforehand. (also, surprise?? posting it a day early hehe)
glossary:
Jangot – Veil-like cloak for women
Binyeo – Decorative hairpin
Yakgwa – Honey-ginger cookie
Jeonbok – Traditional sleeveless vest for men
Dasik – Pressed tea cookie
Jeogori – Upper garment or jacket
Chima – Skirt worn by women
Baduk – Strategy board game (Go)
Daenggi – Ribbon for braids
Hour of the Ox – 1:00–3:00 AM
Hour of the Tiger – 3:00–5:00 AM
Orabeoni – Respectful term for older brother
+82 some miracle
only listen to my general
“Daughter, this is General Choi Seungcheol, your betrothed. Greet him properly,” your father commands softly, his eyes trained on you.
Your breath stutters in your chest.
Whether from the loaded tension in the air, the silence of the room or your future husband’s penetrating eyes on you, you are unsure.
His eyes…
You saw them once, a long, long time ago, and you remember them in explicit detail because they are heterochromatic. His right iris is red, a shade of fiery crimson that is scary but also hypnotizing—a stark contrast to his left iris, which is pure black.
You wish it were only his eyes that were lethal. Unfortunately for you, it is his presence itself. It is the way he silently sits there, poised and alert, holding his sword in his right hand and softly drumming his left index finger on his knee, as if telling you to hurry up. It is the way his face remains unreadable, a porcelain white canvas containing a pair of eyes fiercer than a mountain lion's, a sharp nose that is slightly crooked on the left, and pink lips that are pressed in a thin line. The most daunting of it all, the scar on the right side of his face, just below his eye and on top of his cheekbone. It is no more than a couple of inches long, but the gash looks deep, even after it has healed and imagining the pain behind that curse rakes shivers down your spine.
Finally, you snap out of your reverie.
With a shaky exhale, you bow down and speak as humbly as possible. “Please accept my greetings, my lord. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
—
Choi Seungcheol is well known throughout the kingdom, highly feared and revered. In fact, many hold him in the same regard as the king, which is not unfair or surprising. He is the Minister of War and the General of the royal military, the right-hand man of the King and his most trusted subject. Since his boyhood, he demonstrated excellent swordsmanship, and paired with his keen intellect and faultless war strategies, he quickly rose through the ranks and became the King's favourite. His name spread far and wide after he brought victory to the nation in two consecutive wars. He attended the first one when he was only eighteen, and he became infamous for that.
That war with the nearby enemy nation was extremely brutal, as it took away the lives of many of the best men in the military. When Seungcheol returned to the capital with the enemy General’s head in his hands, he was a changed man who had altered the course of history. Bloodied, beaten and bruised, he sported the deep scar on his face, fresh and bleeding.
Rumours spread from there. Though he brought the nation victory, the townspeople gossiped about everything from his scar, his crimson eye, to his temper, claiming that he was a madman or possessed by an evil spirit.
You have heard a few things from your father, too. He has agreed that the war changed the man, rightfully so. As the state minister, your father saw firsthand how brutal and merciless the war was till the last moment. So much so that he stepped down from his position afterwards.
He lost his son in the war, after all. Your older brother, whom you vaguely remember because you were only eight at that time.
Nothing was the same after his passing. Your father lost his spark, your mother became quiet and indifferent, and the house fell into a deathly silence that felt haunted. The silence still lingers, fourteen years later.
It has been a long time, so long that sometimes you feel like those days never existed. Yet, you remember them vividly: the pain of your mother’s death four years after your brothers, the remaining light dissipating from your father's eyes and the house falling into a perpetuating state of darkness, a place where everyone remained silent, from the slaves to the master. A place that never truly was illuminated, even during the brightest days of summer. A place that you had to call home but wasn’t your home. It was a graveyard where you floated through, watching the world outside bathe and shine with colours when the second war was won, when the king became the father of a boy, when the economy flourished. Seasons passed and years went by, yet your house never celebrated a holiday or a special occasion.
You saw your father survive each day, haunted by his past and unaware of the present. Every day, he would see students from morning till noon, fulfilling his duties as a scholar before retiring to his room and staying there till the next morning.
The only time you saw some life in him was three years ago, when he called you one day in his chamber to announce that you would get married to Choi Seungcheol once he returned from his three-year trip to another country. Choi Seungcheol, the General of the Royal Military. The man with heterochromatic eyes, who came to your brother’s funeral years ago.
That’s how you have remembered him. The man with two different colored eyes, who stood in the rain with a grim expression on his face as they lowered your brother into the ground.
Over the years, you have heard notorious things about him. He has gained an infamous reputation among the townspeople. Many people believe that he is insane and that he murders people for fun. Word goes around that he is a womanizer, a man without a heart, a man who did not spare his own brother and executed him for treason.
You don’t know how much of this is true.
It all might be true; he just might be the devil living in a human body, but funnily enough, you do not care.
You will do anything to get out of this house. Living here for the past fourteen years has been like being buried alive. You are breathing, yet you don’t feel alive—you don’t remember the last time you felt that way, if ever.
And if a diabolical, insane man is your ticket out of this grave, you will take it. You will accept it with open arms and a smile on your face.
—
The marketplace is crowded.
You gently tread through the throng of people, holding your jangot over your head as you eye the stalls leisurely, nothing in particular catching your attention.
“My lady,” Jihye whispers, walking alongside you. “You have been circling the market for the past half an hour. What are you even looking for?”
A dejected sigh flows past your lips.
Last time you came to the market, a pretty flower binyeo caught your eye. You had not received your salary yet at that time, and so, you could not purchase the piece. You had aimed to buy that binyeo today, but now that you've received your pay, it's no longer available. You have been scouring the market ever since, looking for something similar, but there is none.
“You know what, let us buy some yakgwa and head home,” you say, looking for a snack shop. Jihye smiles, her eyes flickering excitedly at your mention of buying sweets.
A few feet ahead of you, you spot a sweet shop. Instead of focusing on the plethora of sweets laid out, your gaze travels to the right, stopping on two men standing by that shop, their backs facing you.
Something about the tall, broad man dressed in black makes you stop in your tracks. Particularly, his long ebony hair feels oddly familiar to you.
The man shifts a little, and you catch the slightest glimpse of his side profile through the busy street. Immediately, you squeak and hide behind a nearby stall.
It is General Choi, your husband-to-be.
“My lady, what is wrong?” Jihye hovers around you worriedly. Without looking away from the man, you dig into the sleeve of your hanbok, fishing out some coins and handing them to Jihye.
“Here. Go buy as much yakgwa as you want.” You murmur, pushing her towards the shop while you get more comfortable in your hiding spot.
You don’t even know why you are hiding. You did not do anything wrong, and you surely have no reason to spy on your future husband in the middle of a busy marketplace.
Still, you continue observing him converse with the other gentleman. His stance is poised and powerful as always, and dressed head to toe in his signature black military clothes, he looks like death itself. Haunting but hypnotizing; which would explain why you cannot look away.
And then, suddenly, he turns around, locking his eyes with you straight, as if he knew exactly where you were hiding.
With a gasp of mortification and terror, you immediately whip your head away and bump into a passerby. Bowing your head in an apology, you let the woman pass through before tentatively turning your head back to the street.
Choi Seungcheol stands right behind you.
“Ah!” You yelp, taken aback and stumble a few steps behind. He reaches out immediately and grabs your elbow in a flash, saving you from the fall.
Flushed and breathless, you gape at him like a fish out of water.
He has the usual grim and unamused look on his face, peering down at you almost like he is judging you. His hair is tied up in a half bun, and his bangs frame half of his face, covering his odd eye and the scar. It is a shame, you find yourself thinking as you observe the rest of his face, counting the moles on his pale skin.
It is when he lets you go that you realize he had been holding onto you all this time, and you stood there like a statue.
How unladylike!
First, he catches you spying on him, and now—
“My apologies, my Lord.” You immediately take several steps back, putting a safe distance between the two of you. Full of shame, you keep your head low as you murmur, “I was simply startled to see you.”
“It seems that you were spying on me.” His voice is smooth and rich, calm and authoritative. “No!” You gasp. “I was just…um…looking. I thought you…ah…looked somewhat familiar…”
He cocks a thick brow in amusement, the faintest smirk creeping up on his lips.
What are you even saying?
Cringing at your own words, you press your lips shut and scowl at the ground, cursing the heavens for your predicament.
“You are not at the palace today?” He asks. You welcome the change of topic with great relief.
"No, my Lord. I asked for a break from my duties this week as I am preparing for the wedding.”
With no mother or close female relatives, it is up to you to prepare your wedding.
Generally, you do not like skipping work. It has been two months since you secured a job at the palace after a lot of struggle. Your father was not very happy with the idea of you working, especially in the palace, but he ultimately gave in.
You work as a teacher to the children under the head court lady of the palace, teaching them how to read and write while they train to be future court ladies. Sometimes you also work as a bookkeeper for the royal library, but that is something you do voluntarily and out of your love for reading. The pay is not very much, but it gives you a sense of freedom and identity, something you struggled to find for the last twenty-two years.
“Head Court Lady Yeo speaks very highly of you.” General Choi states. You do not understand whether he meant it positively or negatively, given his flat tone. Confused, you chuckle awkwardly. “It is a pleasure to work under her guidance. She is very patient and—”
Suddenly, Seungcheol reaches out to you, grabbing you by the arm and harshly tugging you towards him. Completely oblivious as to what is happening, you bump into his chest as his arms snake around you, protectively holding your body next to his.
Less than half a second later, a man riding a horse whooshes by, yelling out apologies to all the people for his rowdy horse. Dear Lord, you were about to be trampled by a horse if not for him.
“Are you alright?”
His voice makes you look up at him, wide-eyed and panting. It takes a moment for you to realize that he is holding you against his chest, his warm hand resting on your shoulder in a protective grip while your hands rest on his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his jeonbok for support.
With your heart pounding loudly in your ears, it takes you yet another moment to remember how inappropriate this is, the way you are pressed against him. In a flash, you free yourself from his hold and shuffle back, murmuring a mortified apology. At the same time, you hate how much you miss his touch on you.
How odd.
“My lady, are you alright!” Jihye comes running down the street, a packet of confectionery in her hands.
“Y-yes, I am okay. Let us get going.” You announce, immediately turning away from General Choi, desperate to escape this mortifying situation.
“Hold on.” The deep baritone of his voice steals a breath from your lips. Your body instinctively listens to his command, and you carefully look behind to see him picking up your jangot, which you probably dropped earlier and were about to leave without.
Once more, you cringe at your clumsiness as you watch him brush off the dirt before extending the material towards you. With shaky hands, you reach for it. “Thank you, my Lord. I wish you a pleasant day.”
The next second, you rush out of the marketplace as if the grim reaper himself were chasing after you. Behind you, Jihye struggles to keep up, but you couldn't care less, hiding your face in embarrassment.
That night, under the blanket, you lie wide awake. The memory of General Choi’s hand on your body and his chest pressed against yours keeps repeating in your head in a loop. A foreign, warm sensation pools in your belly, and you find yourself shamefully fantasizing about your future husband, forsaking slumber.
—
You got married today.
According to the elders of the town, it is one of the most important days of your life, yet it felt like every other—quick and ordinary. Probably because the groom was barely there.
During noon, he came in to fulfil the basic rituals before marching out, leaving a note for you with Jihye. The work in the palace is too demanding, so he must go. He would see you tonight at his place. That was all he said.
Hours later, night has fallen and you are now in his home.
You sit alone in a chamber prepared especially for you. His servants made sure you were comfortable, helping you bathe and prepare for the first night with your husband before leaving you alone to sit with your thoughts and hear the hum of the crickets in the nearby forest.
You declined their offer to serve you dinner. It is only appropriate to wait for your husband and share the first meal together.
Adorned in fine silk and pretty ribbons, you sit and wait for your husband to come, watching the flame of the candle dancing and melting away the wax.
You are nervous. It is your first night with your husband. You, who has never even looked at a man for a second too long. You are now married to one of the most feared men in the kingdom. You have heard people talk about his ruthlessness in bed. Apparently, the girls in the brothel talk about it all the time, especially when he visits. Jihye said that whoever spends the night with him needs an entire day to recover.
“Lady Choi,” Head Servant Yang suddenly calls your name before opening the door. “Master has arrived. He is taking a bath currently.”
You snap out of the thoughts of bedding your husband and give her a shy smile. “Could you please set the table then?”
“Of course.” The elderly woman bows and walks out of the room, arranging for dinner to be set in your chamber.
Ten minutes after the dinner is served, General Choi walks into the room. Fresh out of the bath, he is dressed in his nightwear and his hair is tied up in a neat bun, giving you an uninterrupted view of his face. Once again, you find yourself hypnotised by his heterochromatic eyes.
“You did not have dinner?” He asks, sitting down in front of you. His movement is as graceful as always, silent yet stealthy. His posture is upright, the muscles of his shoulders taught as he sits and regards you with careful eyes.
“I was waiting for you, my Lord.” You reply meekly.
“You should not have,” he states, his tone almost condescending. “I am sure Head Servant Yang informed you that I return from work late most days.”
“Today is a special day, is it not?” You find yourself speaking boldly. Your words are firm like the gaze in your eyes, and for a long moment, the chamber is plunged into suffocating silence.
General Choi keeps looking down at you, his gaze as intimidating as ever, and you half expect him to draw his sword from its sheath and slice your head off. Instead, his lips curl upwards, and a noise of amusement leaves his throat.
“Lady Choi, you seem upset.” He states, his voice half challenging and half something you cannot pinpoint. Sarcasm? Threat?
Unsure how to reply to that, you bite your lip and stare at the food laid out in front of you. All your appetite is gone now.
“Let me tell you something, Lady Choi.” Your husband leans closer to you over the table. Something about the way he utters your title forces you to meet his gaze. Like always, the fierce look in his eyes steals away your breath.
The man is hauntingly beautiful.
“I am certain you have some expectations from this marriage, and I cannot hold that against you. However, let me inform you now, I will not be able to fulfil your expectations, whatever they may be. So, I suggest you completely let go of your expectations, for your own good.”
What? You are sure no woman in Joseon’s history ever had to hear these words on her wedding night.
“My Lord, I do not understand.”
He does not bother clarifying his words. Instead, the look in his eyes shifts, his gaze sharpening on you. Lazily, he pours himself a drink from the pitcher and chugs it down.
“I know what this marriage means to you.”
You hold your breath and watch him, alarmed. He smirks. “It means freedom. It is your way out of that house. So, let this marriage be just that. A way out for you and a duty obliged for me.”
Well, consummating the marriage is also a duty. So is spending time with your wife and sharing a meal with her on your wedding night. You want to yell the words out, but you press your lips shut and stare at him, still processing what is happening.
“As long as we maintain our boundaries, this will be a great union,” he announces almost like he is reassuring you. You feel anything but that.
You feel abandoned, yet again.
“You should eat now,” he says, standing up. “I will retire for the night.” Without sparing another glance at you, he leaves the room. For a long moment, you silently sit in your place, your fancy garment and jewellery suddenly becoming too heavy on your skin. Ignoring the sensation, you reach for the rice, nibbling on the grains with your chopsticks.
You do not understand why tears prick your eyes.
—
The next morning, an unknown man waits for you as you step out of your chamber and put on your shoes, ready to leave for the palace.
Your husband had left early in the morning, and while the news hurt you slightly, it also left you with relief. After last night, you have not had enough time to process your emotions to face him.
The strange man bows as he sees you approaching. “Greetings, Lady Choi. I am San. As per General Choi’s orders, I shall accompany you from now on for your safety.” Stupefied, you blink at the man. His build and posture indicate that he is a military person, but you do not understand why your husband would have someone guard you.
“My husband put you up to this?” You raise a brow. “Why?”
“I am afraid I cannot say. It was his order.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “So, from now on, you will what? Follow me everywhere?”
“Yes. Whenever you need to go out, I shall accompany you.”
“Is someone trying to kill me?” You ask, point blank, blinking at him.
San makes a noise of surprise before an awkward laugh spills from his lips. “O-of course not, my lady.” You keep eyeing the strange man with suspicion as you start heading for the front door. “Alright then, let us leave.”
—
You bump into your husband at the palace.
At noon, when the sun is high in the sky, you finish teaching the young girls. Then, you head to the library to cool off and see if the head librarian needs any help. With no new work for you, Librarian Kim serves you some tea and sweets, congratulating you on your marriage. On your way out, he gives you some dasik to take home and share with your husband.
The husband who seems to want to do nothing with you.
With gratitude, you take the sweets and head out of the library, done with your day's work at the palace. That is when you see him. Below the steps of the library building, he approaches, followed by two other men, all dressed in uniforms. Their movements are quick and determined, almost like they are on a military mission.
General Choi takes notice of you as he climbs the stairs. Flustered and oddly shy, your first instinct is to hide. With no place to do that, you stand your ground and bow, “My Lord—”
He walks past as if he did not see you.
You stand rooted to your spot, blinking at the ground.
What just happened?
He ignored you. He blatantly ignored you. His wife. There is no way he did not see you. He did. His eyes met yours, and he held your gaze before looking away.
Hurt and humiliated, you stand there for several long moments, the sun scorching your back. You are tempted to storm back into the library and demand why he did that, but you know better than that.
For one, there is always the danger of him chopping your head off. You heard he once cut off a man’s head just for looking at him too long.
The other issue is more personal. Walking in there would make you look desperate, especially in front of others. You are supposed to be a newlywed happy wife, not someone who chases after her husband when he ignores her in public. The thought makes you feel like pins prickling your heart.
Once more in your life, you are insignificant. You are the lesser one, the one who can be forgotten, overlooked.
With boulders forming in your heart, you head home.
—
Your husband returned home late today as well.
You had your dinner long ago, and Jihye prepared your bed for you. However, you did not get under the covers. In the dimly lit space of your bedchamber, you have been sitting with your head on your knees, curled up in a corner and watching the candle burn.
No matter how hard you try, you fail to get past the incident earlier today. You simply cannot comprehend why your husband would ignore you like that.
Your curiosity gets the better of you. With a resolved breath, you step out of your room and walk into his bedchamber. You knock at his door. “My Lord, may I come in?”
A beat of silence. “Yes.”
Opening the doors, you find Seungcheol tying the knot of his undershirt. The material is thin and white, giving you a pretty decent glimpse of his silhouette. Flustered, you immediately lower your gaze and shake your head at yourself.
You did not think this through. Of course, he would be in his sleepwear, like you.
Shit.
It takes you another second to realize you, too, are in your sleepwear. A thin white top over your underskirt. With the realization dawning on you, you cross your arms over your chest and look up at him, conflicted and embarrassed.
Like always, his face gives nothing away. In the calmest of tones, he questions, “Did you need something from me?”
“Uhm…well…” Once again, you get distracted by the visual of your husband. In the dimly lit room, he appears even more stunning, the light of the candle casting strange shadows on his figure, contouring his muscles underneath the thin fabric. With his long, black hair undone, some strands fall on his face, covering his eyes. Through the curtain of his hair, his odd eye shines exceptionally bright in the darkness, stealing your breath.
“I am sure the reason for your visit is not to stare at me, Lady Choi.” He states once more, and you finally snap out of your thoughts.
Closing the door behind you, you gather all your resolve and stand straight. “My apologies. I wanted to talk to you.”
“I am all ears.” He says, not looking at you. He busies himself by placing his sword next to his mat and sitting down comfortably.
“Why did you ignore me today at the palace?” You get straight to the point. The man turns to look at you slowly, his eyes sharpening ever so slightly. Despite him sitting, you feel as if he is towering over you, and you cannot help but hold your breath, waiting for whatever is to come. Something flashes in his eyes, and once again, you do not know what it is. Rage? Annoyance? Amusement?
You have no clue.
“It seems that you are disappointed, Lady Choi.” He finally replies, his tone containing that tinge of amusement he has with you. Like you are a circus monkey whose action provides him with fleeting, insignificant pleasure.
You wait for him to elaborate, but he does not, looking at you with a challenging stare. You hate how…diplomatic he is all the time. “Why did you do it?” You repeat, trying to appear as stern as possible, which is almost comical. In front of you is the man people call the grim reaper.
General Choi shifts his position, resting his arm on his knee before fixing his gaze back on you. His tone is quiet, serious. “Let me tell you something, Lady Choi. In public, we are not to acknowledge each other. Do you understand me?”
The ground has been snatched from beneath your feet. You fall into an endless pit, your heart crushing into tiny bits with each of his words. Why? Why would he say something like that?
“Why?” You don’t mask the hurt and desperation in your voice. He ignores you. “If that was all, you may leave now. I wish to get some rest.”
Tears brim in your eyes. Why does he treat you like this? What crime did you ever commit against him?
Your mouth hangs open, shocked and helpless at his attitude towards you. Defeated, you silently pad back to the door. Before you open it, however, you pause. Slowly, you turn back to him. “Why did you assign that man to follow me around?”
He does not look at you. “San is one of the few men I trust. He will keep you safe.”
He has this tendency to never answer your question directly. He dances around it, giving curt, memorized answers. It feels like you are talking to a wall, frustrating and pointless. The next words slip past your lips thoughtlessly and barely above a whisper. “Why do we not sleep in the same room?”
That finally gets his attention. He slowly turns his head to look at you, his pupils wide with shock. Like, he cannot believe that you just said that.
Right. Why did you say that out loud?
You look away in embarrassment, cringing at your words.
“So…” he starts to get up. You step back, alarmed.
Why is he getting up? He will slice your head off for sure this time.
With the grace of a lion about to devour his prey, he inches closer to you, his eyes flashing almost unnaturally. You keep walking backwards until your back meets the door and there is no place left to go.
He stops a mere inch away from you, so close that your clothes brush, so close that you can see his chest underneath his nightshirt, so close that you can inhale the scent of soap on his skin. Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes fall shut on their own.
“My wife wishes to sleep with me. Is that it?” His voice is heaven against your ears, deep, husky and warm, leaving your brain fumbling. You open your eyes to see him staring straight at you, and immediately, heat shoots up all through your body from your toes.
“I…I didn’t…mean…” You stumble over your words, the sight of him so close to you, messing with your system.
He stares at you, his lips curling up in a smirk. “I am sure you have heard what they say about me.” He pauses. His hand reaches out towards your face, and you hold your breath in alarm and anticipation. With the faintest of touches, he drags his index finger against your jaw and down your neck. “I am sure you know how I am…in bed.” He whispers against your ear, and you can feel your heart physically drop as tingles shoot through your entire body.
At this point, you have forgotten how to breathe.
“You could not handle me, Lady Choi.” He says and then, absolutely shocking you, leans closer to your neck. Tucking a stray piece of hair beneath your ears, he takes a long inhale of you and then slowly steps away from you.
You feel like you are on fire, beads of sweat gathering on your temples. Your mouth remains agape, processing what just happened as you stand pressed against the door, frozen like prey in shock.
“Good night, Lady Choi.” He says in the most nonchalant way possible, going back to bed. You manage to summon all your strength and rush out of his room, shutting the wooden panels loudly behind you. Outside, you gasp for air, clutching your chest, your heart racing like you just ran for your life. You stand outside the door for a long time, taking in deep breaths and trying to get your heart to calm down as foreign sensations flood through your veins, leaving behind an ache you have never felt before.
You want your husband, you realize. You want him to do all those filthy, animalistic things that you heard of…with you.
—
You have accepted your new life. A married woman without a husband’s attention or acknowledgement.
In the last two weeks, a routine has fallen into place for you. You wake up, go to work, come home for lunch, spend the afternoon with Jihye lounging around before having dinner and going to bed. Throughout the day, setting eyes upon your husband is rare because he leaves with the sunrise and gets home after dinner. Most days, he has dinner in his chamber by himself, and on the rare occasions he is home early (twice), he shares it with you.
The freedom you thought an advantageous marriage would give you has not come. In fact, you feel more restricted than before. With San following you around like a hawk, you have lost interest in going outside to explore the neighbourhood. Jihye, too, has been weird lately. She vehemently opposes you going outside, especially to the market or other crowded areas and always runs your errands for you.
After a lot of thinking, you have come to a conclusion. Your husband has a mistress. Maybe, mistress is not the right word. If anything, you feel like the mistress in this relationship.
“I am sure he has someone he loves.” You hum, nodding to yourself.
It is a Thursday afternoon in early spring, the warmth of the sun shining on you as you return home from an unusually long shift at the palace. A few steps behind you is San, ever present like a shadow, following you down a steep road to home.
With him around, you have started to voice your thoughts, no matter how crazy. There is nothing to hide from him after all. He sees it all firsthand, how his boss never spends time with you.
You have another theory. San knows about the other woman. He has to, right? That is why General Choi employed him to guard you in the first place. He probably knows where your husband goes during his free time, and it is his job to make sure you never see him.
General Choi seems to have bought off Jihye somehow, too. You find that absolutely bizarre, considering her long loyalty towards you. You are deeply hurt by her betrayal, and so, you have decided to shun her until she comes to you and explains what is going on.
That leaves you with San only.
“I’m right, no?” You turn around to take a glance at him. As usual, he looks helpless and awkward, almost like he is about to leave everything behind and run for the hills. You continue. “He has to have known her for a long, long time. However, I do not understand why he didn’t marry her. Is she not a nobleborn?”
You stop for a moment.
“Ah! She is someone from the brothel, probably, right?”
San continues looking at you helplessly, an awkward smile plastered on his face. You continue walking, nodding to yourself. “No wonder he told me not to expect anything from him. He also said that he fulfilled his duty by marrying me. No one will pester him now because he has the perfect cover.” You nod your head, impressed. “I have to give it to him. This is a good plan.”
The path down the cliff comes to an end, and you stop, admiring the sun slowly going lower in the western sky. The birds fly in the sky in groups, returning home as the sky changes colour, a deep tint of orange taking over the blue.
Is she pretty? You wonder to yourself. She must be. There must be something about her that keeps a man like him hooked.
The thought pains you. More than it should.
You understand it. You really do, but what you don’t understand is why he married you. Why did he trap you into this marriage? The least he could have done was be honest with you instead of avoiding you like the plague.
The more you get to know this man, the more cowardly he seems. The thought brings an unironic smile to your face. The most feared man in the country, yet he refuses to communicate with his wife. He does not have the guts to speak the truth, which makes him nothing but a coward in your eyes.
“Let us stop by the market.” You announce, taking a different route. San rushes in front of you, alarmed. “Lady Choi, w-why?”
You stare at him, slightly annoyed. Why is he acting like this? Is General Choi supposed to be there now? With his lover? All the more reason why you must go.
You continue walking, ignoring San.
“My Lady, please. Tell me what you need and I shall get that for you after I escort you home.”
“San,” you abruptly stop and glare at him. “I shall tell you what I need right now. I need you to shut up and follow me quietly. Or, you can just leave and report to your boss that I am breaking protocol. Whatever fancies you.”
The man makes a pained sound, groaning almost like a wounded animal. However, you don’t wait for him, marching down the path with determination. Helplessly, he chases after you.
—
The marketplace is less crowded than you expected. You heard there have been attacks by gangs in this area, so people are more reluctant to leave their houses, especially as evening approaches.
With the roads not as crowded as usual, it takes you only a couple of minutes to spot him. He stands out, as always, his broad shoulders and tall build catching your eye from far away. You observe him for a moment from afar, squinting your eyes to see what he is doing exactly.
He stands in front of a trinket shop, carefully going through the pieces laid out in front of him.
Wow, is he shopping for something for his hidden lover?
Bemused, you watch him, eyes scanning for a woman near him, only to find no one.
“My Lady, we should really get going. This area is not safe, and—” Ignoring San’s plea, you head straight towards where your husband stands.
“My Lord, what brings you here?” You chirp, standing right behind him. The man immediately turns around, his pupils blown wide in shock. You do not miss the way he hides something behind him. It takes a moment for him to register that it is you, and once he does, that grim look settles on his face. “What are you doing here?’’
San rushes next to you, “My Lord, I am so sorry—”
General Choi cuts him off with a raised hand and gives him a look of dismissal, which sends the young man scurrying away. Ignoring his question, you say. “It seems like you were finished with work early today.” You pointedly look at the shop behind him.
“Yes. I finished early today.” He states, expressionless. “Are you returning from the palace now?”
“Yes, the work at the library took longer than usual. Some records were accidentally destroyed, so we had to salvage them.”
“I see.” He nods. You wait, wondering if he has anything more to say. He keeps gazing at you silently, his odd eye hidden behind his hair. You have noticed that he always hides it in public. Why? To avoid detection?
Finally, he speaks, his eyes narrow and his tone sharp. “You should not be here. I am sure you are aware of the looting and killing taking place in this area.”
You hate his tone. Frowning, you reply. “Thank you for your concern, My Lord. I was aware. I just wanted to explore—”
You are cut off.
The next sequence of events takes place exceptionally quickly. First, you see your husband’s gaze shift and focus on something behind you. The very next moment, he yanks you towards him, making a swift turn so that his body covers yours. You lose your footing from the harsh tug, gripping onto his arms with a yelp of surprise.
Something whizzes past you, sharp and quick, that makes you jerk and hold onto him tighter.
Gasps, yells and screams of people echo all around you. You blink, befuddled, staring at your husband, who holds you tightly against his body, looking behind him. Following his gaze, you find San chasing after a man who dashes away through the crowd at remarkably fast speed, shoving people and running over stalls on his way.
Your husband whips his head back to look at you, his eyes wide with alarm. “Are you okay? Look at me!” He shakes you, his grip on your arms fierce. Something wet touches your fingers. Slowly, your eyes trail to your right hand, which is grabbing General Choi’s bicep.
There is a tear on his sleeve, a couple of inches above your fingers and red liquid oozes out from the thin cut. You gasp, your breath escaping your lungs in a choked wheeze.
Finally, everything clicks.
Someone just shot an arrow at him. Who? An enemy? A gang member? An assassin?
“Oh…oh my god! My Lord!” You clutch onto his sleeve, panicking.
General Choi ignores your cry and forces you to look at him, tilting your chin upwards. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
Is he seriously worrying about you right now?
“I am fine.” You choke on a sob. “But my Lord, you are bleeding! What…what should I do?”
He rubs a gentle hand on your back, pulling you closer to him. “I am fine. It is nothing.” He assures, his eyes scanning the place carefully as if looking for someone. You panic. “My Lord, we need to go home. Come on. You are hurt!” You urge, tugging him with you, even though you cannot make him move an inch.
The man stands rooted to his spot, his eyes still scouring through the marketplace. Finally, he nods and pulls you into his arms, holding you protectively. “Let us go.”
—
After your relentless nagging, you finally get your husband to sit still so that you can treat his wound.
“I told you, it is nothing serious.” He admonishes when you step into his bedchamber with a rag, a bowl of water, and some medicine. Ignoring him, you hurry closer to him, inspecting the wound.
You have never treated someone before, but your mother was a very good nurse. She helped a lot of people during the war with her vast knowledge of medicinal herbs. You remember watching her work for hours, and even though you never directly learned from her, you are confident you can do this right.
The memory of his blood seeping out and wetting your hands sends shivers down your spine, and you have to take a deep breath to get yourself to calm down. Your heart has been racing ever since, the adrenaline yet to wear off.
“You should take off your shirt.” You whisper, wetting the rag in the bowl of water. Your husband complies, slowly removing the garment and shrugging it off his shoulders. Your breath catches in your throat once you lay your eyes on his body.
It is not his muscular build but the plethora of scars littering his body. Small and big, they taint his chest and all the way down to his lower abdomen, and you cannot help but stare, wincing at the marks that look particularly nasty.
What has this man been through?
General Choi snatches the rag from your hands and starts treating his cut. Embarrassed, you protest, but he cuts you off. “I can do it myself.” His response, like always, is curt, but you ignore it, too distracted by his scars. The one on his left abdomen looks particularly ghastly, and you know for sure it was a deep stab wound.
The amount of pain he must have been in…
The thought makes you shudder, and you bite your lip, holding your tears back.
“This is why I assigned someone to protect you.” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “I am sure he told you to return, but you insisted on going to the market.”
“Who was that man?” You cut him off, unable to prevent yourself from voicing your worries any longer. Why did they want to hurt him?
His lips thin, and something flashes over his eyes, leaving you guessing. He pauses for a moment, looking at you impassively, almost like he knows a secret that you don’t. “They were probably from some gang. They have been causing havoc recently, as you know.”
You know it is a lie. It is blatant that he is hiding something from you, and you cannot help but sigh out loud, sagging onto the floor. You do not even have it in you to fight with him right now. You are just glad he is okay. The bleeding has stopped now, and as you watch him apply the herb on his cut, a small sigh of relief flows past your lips.
Finally, it feels like you can breathe.
Silently, you help him tie a clean rag around his bicep before wiping the residual herb from his fingers. “You should take a bath.” He keeps staring at your face as if he is trying to understand something.
“Are you sure you are okay?” he asks, his tone soft. His gaze, for the first time, appears to be almost tender, and for a moment, the concept of language evaporates from your mind.
You want to say a lot of things. You want to yell at him, scream at him to explain himself and cry in his arms. You are unable to do any of that. “I am fine,” you whisper, your voice small and shaky.
He keeps looking at you for a few more seconds before nodding and getting up. Just as he is about to exit the room, you call for him. “My Lord?”
“Hm?” He turns around to look at you.
You pause, hesitating. “I know you brought something today. At the market…” you trail off, unsure why you are saying this. His body tenses, and he looks at you warily…like he has been caught. For a second, you pray that he comes clean, but he remains silent, waiting for you to continue.
You swallow a lump in your throat and look away. Your voice is wobbly when you speak. “You should wrap it. Put it in a nice box. Women love gifts that are nicely wrapped. The woman…whoever you bought it for…you should wrap it.”
You do not dare to meet his gaze, so you sit on the floor, staring at the bowl of water that is now tinted red from his blood. He does not reply but walks out the door, his footsteps padding softly over the wooden floors.
—
That night, you lay in bed awake, replaying the event at the market over and over again in your head. And as you keep revisiting that moment, a shuddering realization dawns on you.
What if…what if…
The arrow wasn't meant for General Choi but for you?
The more you think about it, the more probable it seems. The arrow would have originally hit you if not for him moving you out of the way. The thought makes you bolt up from your bed, your heart racing as beads of sweat gather on your temples. Tossing the blanket away, you step out of your sleeping mat and start pacing around your room.
Today's events are a mystery to you. You have no enemies, and neither does your father. Hell, he has been out of politics ever since your brother died. You simply have no reason to have someone shoot an arrow at you in the middle of a marketplace.
If it were not for your husband, you would have died for sure.
Shit. Who would do that?
Your mind starts spiraling to the point that your temples begin to throb. You press the spot with your fingers, trying to make the ache go away.
It doesn't.
Instead, paranoia starts settling in. Suddenly, the thought of being alone in your room frightens you so much that you feel a chill in your bones. Unable to tolerate the deafening silence and the darkness any longer, you step out of your chamber, taking tentative steps towards your husband's room. The hallway is dark except for one small lamp flickering at the end of the long corridor, an eerie quietness hanging heavy in the air as the whole house sleeps.
You come to stop in front of your husband's room, your hands hesitating to pull open the wooden panels.
What are you doing here? Sneaking into your husband’s chamber in the middle of the night?
With the resolved exhale, you pull open the door. In the darkness, it takes a moment for you to spot your husband sleeping on his side, his long raven hair splayed messily over the mat.
You remain rooted in your spot outside the door, hesitating yet once again before gingerly making your way inside and quietly closing the panel behind you. The room would be pitch dark if not for the faint light of the lamp flickering outside, filtering in through the panel. You take a moment to let your eyes adjust to the visibility before placing yourself next to him. With his sword resting between the two of you, you silently lie down, gazing at the silhouette of his face in the darkness.
Your heart aches. He got hurt because of you.
Why do you feel such a strong attraction towards this cold, stubborn man? Why does it hurt you so much to see him hurt? Most importantly, is this how he feels about his lover? Does her pain make him hurt like this as well? Is that why he refuses to be with you, unable to resist his heart's longing?
So many questions and no answer to soothe your wretched soul.
You keep gazing at him, a strange sensation filling your heart. He is physically so close to you, right within your reach, yet it feels like he is a million miles away, tucked away in a place for which you have no key. At the same time, lying next to him like this, you feel oddly comfortable. With him next to you, the silence and the darkness of the night are bearable, no longer stealing your sleep.
With a heavy ache in your chest and tears in your eyes, you fall asleep, happy to be in the same space as your husband.
—
When you open your eyes next morning, the sun is high up in the sky and the light flooding into the room immediately tells you that you have slept way longer than you should have.
Shit. You missed work today.
All concerns of work, however, fly out the window when you register where you are. You fell asleep on the floor next to General Choi yesterday. Then why are you sleeping on his mat, his blanket tucked around you, and his pillow under your head?
With a gasp, you sit up and look around you, double checking to make sure you are in the right place.
How did you get here? Did he tuck you in after waking up? How did you not wake up?
Your face flushes with heat, imagining him carrying you and putting you in his bed. No wonder you feel so well rested after a long time. You must have slept like a log throughout everything.
Did you snore? Did you drool? Did you say something weird in your sleep?
“Oh dear lord, help me!” You whine, putting your face in your hands, cringing at all the possible ways you might have embarrassed yourself. Once you are over the initial wave of embarrassment, you spot a trinket on top of the small wooden table by the mat.
Curious, you shuffle closer. It is a bineyo with a beautiful butterfly in pink and blue, exactly the one you had been looking for. With a gasp, you lean closer, mesmerized by the way it sparkles underneath the sunlight. Next to it sits a letter, face up.
Dear wife,
I am sorry I did not wrap it. I was interrupted by someone before I could choose a box. I do not know how the misunderstanding came to be, but this was meant to be yours from the beginning, not any other woman’s. I hope you like it.
From, Your husband
Your hands cover your mouth in shock and absolute glee before clutching the letter and the hairpin to your chest. Tears brim your eyes, your heart melting like a caramel under the sun, warm and sweet.
It seems like you misunderstood his actions. Still, some things remain unclear.
“Jihye!” You yell. She rushes in a few moments later. “My lady, you are awake! Master said not to disturb you. He said he will let Head Court Lady Yeo know that you will not go to work today.”
Ignoring her words, you quickly motion for her to come closer to you and sit down. “You,” you narrow your eyes at her. “You have been hiding something from me.” She blinks, her gaze slowly lowering to the floor.
“What did General Choi tell you? He definitely told you something. That is why you have not been letting me out of the house by myself.”
She looks at you helplessly for a long moment before sighing. “Okay, I will tell you, my lady. But you have to promise me you will not tell Master. I gave him my word.” She winces.
What could it be? Eager, you scoot closer to her. “I will not. Now out with it.”
“On the first night of your marriage, he called me and asked about you. What you like to eat, what your favourite season is…things like that.”
Wow. Your heart races with each of her words.
“Then, he asked me what you were doing in the market that day. You know that noon a week before your wedding? When we bumped into him? I said that you were looking for a hairpin. He asked in detail about the hairpin, and I told him that you were looking for one with a butterfly. Then, he ordered me to keep you from going outside, especially to crowded areas, as much as possible. He said it is not safe for you. And he made me promise not to tell you.”
A lot of the blanks start filling up. He listened to her and got this hairpin for you. No wonder!
You keep finding yourself revisiting that moment in the market. The way he protected you. The worry in his eyes, the way his fingers gripped onto you, the way his voice was filled with worry when he asked you if you were ok. The realization that you may have misunderstood him greatly starts settling in your bones.
Maybe there was no one else from the beginning. Maybe it was only you all along. Maybe everything he did was to protect you. But protect you from what? Did he know that someone was after you? Who? Why did he not tell you anything?
No matter, you shall set the record straight when he gets home today. You have caught a glimpse into your husband’s heart, and it turns out he is not as cruel as they say. Now, there is nothing strong enough to stop you. He has had his way until now, and now, it is your time.
“Did he say when he will return?” You ask Jihye, your heart racing.
“No, my lady.”
“No matter.” You smile. “I will wait for him.”
—
The heavens seem to be on your side because your husband returns home right before sunset. As he takes a bath, you prepare in your room, getting dressed for the evening.
Jihye braids your hair for you before helping you put on your hanbok, a soft yellow jeogori with a pastel pink chima.
Just as you are almost finished with your makeup, Head Servant Yang knocks at the door, letting you know that your husband has finished his bath. With a smile, you stand up and walk over to the mirror, smoothing your skirt.
“Jihye, how do I look?”
“Absolutely beautiful, my lady!” She squeals. “Master will not be able to resist you tonight!”
You throw a scandalized look at her before reaching for the hairpin your husband gave you. Gingerly placing it on your hair, you complete the look and twirl in front of the mirror. “Alright, let us go!”
You knock twice at your husband’s chamber.
“Come in.”
Exhaling a shaky breath, you open the door and find sitting on the floor, wearing a navy blue hanbok. A book sits open on his lap, which is discarded once he lays eyes upon you.
Silence.
You hold your breath, watching his eyes scan you top to bottom, before going up again and finally stopping at your hairpin. He looks awestruck and speechless—a look you have never seen on him, and you struggle to stifle a smile.
“May I come in?” You ask coquettishly.
“Ah—yes, of course.” He blinks and sits up straight. With a smile, you walk into the room and sit in front of him, closer than you have ever been before. "How is your arm?” You ask, jutting your chin towards it. “Do you need me to apply some herbs?”
“No, it is fine. I changed the gauze after my bath.”
“Are you in any pain?”
“Thank you for your concern, Lady Choi, but I am well.” He sets the book aside. “What brings you to my chamber?”
You ignore his curt replies. “Thank you for the gift, my lord.” You smile, saccharine sweet. Titling your head, you show him the trinket nestled in your hair. “How do I look?”
“Hm?” He gapes at you, eyes wide, clearly taken aback by the question. “Uh…it suits you. You look lovely.”
You smile like a lovestruck fool. “Thank you, my Lord.”
Silence. He keeps looking at you like it is a staring competition. Realizing he will not be the first one to break the silence, you continue with a sigh, “I have some questions, my Lord. I hope you will answer them honestly.”
His gaze shifts, something unreadable briefly flashing by his eyes. His hands on to rest on his knees, his back straightening as he takes a moment before subtly nodding his head.
“Is there someone trying to kill me?” Your gaze does not waver. General Choi’s lips press into a thin line, his thick brows forming a frown, a look of pure displeasure settling on his face.
You do not back down. “Yesterday, the arrow was meant for me, was it not? You knew someone was after me. That is why you assigned San to be with me. That is why you told Jihye not to let me go outside.”
Another beat of silence. “Yes.” He murmurs, his haunting gaze piercing yours.
You swallow. “Who is it? I do not understand…I do not have any enemies— “
“They are my enemies.” He cuts you off. “The arrow yesterday…yes, it was meant for you, but it was also meant for me. It was their warning to me.”
“What warning? Why are they after you?” You cry.
His gaze narrows. “That is private information. Only the King’s most trusted men are aware of it.” You look down, worriedly chewing on your lower lip. After a beat, you ask, “Is that why you ignored me in the palace that day?”
“Yes. I thought the less I interacted with you, the better.” He pauses, his gaze focusing on the lamp burning at his side. “I am sorry for putting you in danger, but rest assured, they will be dealt with.”
You are not really worried about losing your life. If anything, his being in danger scares you more. Odd, is it not?
“Why did you let me misunderstand, my Lord?” You ask softly.
“That was not my intention.”
“But it happened anyway.” You cannot hold back the bite in your voice. “From the first day of this marriage, I believed that you have someone else.”
He remains silent, looking almost guilty. It scares and infuriates you. “Tell me! Do you?”
“No,” his voice never loses its quiet composure. “I do not.”
“Then why did you lie?”
For the first time, you see his gaze soften. For once, it looks like he is not scowling but rather, he appears ashamed and helpless. The hidden frustration inside you reaches its tipping point. “You could have told me! You could have said that I was in danger instead of pushing me away like I disgust you and letting me think that you were seeing someone else!”
You hear him exhale a breath. “How do you expect me to tell my young, newlywed wife that her life is in danger because of me, her husband?”
The guilt is raw and vivid in his voice, echoing throughout the room like a haunted cry. This new side of your husband knocks all the air out of your lungs, leaving you feeling helpless as you stare at him, tears pricking your eyes.
“My Lord—”
“I know I am not the best match for you. You got married to be free, but instead, this marriage became a trap for you. How could I tell you that? I believed it would be better to let you think all crazy things about me rather than taking away your freedom by scaring you. I apologize for my shortsightedness.”
A lone tear rolls down your cheek. He is not the best match for you? What is he saying?
Unable to hold back any longer, you close the little distance between the two of you and leap into his arms, hugging him tightly. With your arms wrapped around his neck, you rest your face on his shoulder, your fingers tightly holding onto the fabric of his hanbok. “Please do not apologize, my Lord. I understand you.”
Against you, your husband’s entire body remains tense, his hands awkwardly raised into the air like he is too scared to touch you. You ignore his hesitation and hold onto him tightly, your heart breaking and healing simultaneously. The warmth and comfort of his body soothe all the anguish in your heart, making you never want to let him go.
Finally, his hands touch your back, his large palms holding the small of your back, softly patting you.
Loosening your arms around him, you take a peek at his face and find the most sincere look in his eyes, warm and kind, the complete opposite of how you have seen him until now. You truly believed he was beyond all emotions, cold and mechanical, but right now, as he holds you in his arms and gazes at you with so much reverence and softness, you can only think of him as this quiet, considerate man who is misunderstood greatly.
Something in you shifts. No longer afraid, you shift in his arms, positioning yourself better on his lap before kissing him.
You press your lips against his without thinking, pulling him closer by the lapels of his hanbok and holding your lips right there, against his, soft and warm. With your heart hammering in your chest, you stay there, testing the waters. Your husband remains frozen at first, almost like he is waiting for you to back out. Once sure that you will not, he reaches for you, gently cupping your cheek with his right hand to tilt your face. The kiss deepens just a tad bit, his lips pressing against you just hard enough. His touch on you is meticulous and guarded, like you are a wild animal he does not want to frighten. You know he is being gentle for your sake, so you take the lead, snaking an arm around his neck and kissing him the way he led you.
Slow, sweet and passionate.
It is everything you imagined and more, all your dreams coming true and giving you a taste of ecstasy. By the time your lips part from his, there is a ringing in your ears along with your heart galloping like a race horse and a strange, tingling sensation between your legs. You feel drunk on your husband’s kiss, your eyes involuntarily trailing to his lips that are now shining with saliva.
You want this man so much, body and soul.
Your husband’s fingers remain against your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek, slow and tentative like you are the most precious porcelain. Mirroring his hand, your fingers cup his cheek, your thumb gently tracing the scar beneath his odd eye. The skin is harsh and bumpy under your touch, making your heart heavy. You want to kiss it, tell him that he is beautiful despite it, tell him that you feel his pain, but something shifts.
His gaze grows unfocused, something foreign flashing by in his eyes, like he has been woken back to reality. With a sudden noise, he clears his throat and retracts his hand from your face. The action pulls you out of your haze as well, making you suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you kissed him.
Holy shit. You kissed your husband. And he kissed you back. And it was amazing.
Clearing his throat once more, your husband looks away, carefully trying to put some distance between you and him. Flustered, you take the hint and stand up rather unceremoniously. As you take a step back, however, misfortune befalls.
The ghost of clumsiness yet again takes over your body, and you trip over your skirt. With a loud, unladylike yelp, you fall backwards, terrified but also anticipating the brutal hit to the floor.
It does not come. You do not fall on the ground because your husband saves you, reaching for your arm and tugging you back towards him just in time. Something else happens in the process. The ribbon of your jeogori comes off.
You realize that several moments later, too preoccupied with trying to calm your beating heart and processing what just happened. As you stay pressed against his body, your arms tightly holding onto his shoulders for balance, General Choi’s eyes skim over your face before fixing beneath your neck and on your exposed shoulder.
This time, something dark and carnal takes over his gaze, his eyes sharp and narrow, staring intently at your bare skin. Your heart beats so loudly you fear he can hear it, and for a moment, you are sure you will pass out from the intensity of his gaze and the swirl of emotions—desire and shame, surging within you.
Like before, he is the one who backs away, quietly clearing his throat and looking away. Embarrassed, you quickly fix your jeogori and clutch it tightly to your chest while also scrambling off his body.
“I—” you stammer, mortified to look at his face. “I will see you for d-dinner then, my Lord.” Picking up your skirt to avoid further accidents, you rush for the door, eager to be out of his sight.
His voice forces you to stop right at the door. “Why did you come to my room last night?”
You halt, processing his question. Then, with quick fingers, you tie your jeogori and carefully turn around. Your husband looks at you inquisitively. “Were…were you awake, my Lord?” You ask. He did not even sir when you came into the room.
In reply, he nods. You look around, trying to find the words. “I…was scared to be alone. I kept thinking of what happened at the market, and I do not know…” You trail off, embarrassed and worried about his reaction. He, however, keeps looking at you intently before shaking his head up and down in understanding.
“How did you know I came in? You did not even move a muscle. I thought you were asleep.”
“I smelled you.” He states, his face expressionless. You take a step back, alarmed. “Do I stink?”
He shakes his head. “No. I meant that I smelled roses. You smell like roses.”
Oh. “I see,” you mumble shyly, your fingers twiddling with the fabric of your skirt. He regards you quietly for a beat before murmuring. “You can sleep with me tonight as well, if you desire it.”
“Really?” You squeal, not hiding the excitement brimming in your voice.
“Yes.”
“Thank you, my Lord!” You smile so big it hurts.
—
After dinner, Headservant Yang sets the mattress for the two of you with a suggestive, happy smile on her face that makes you grin goofily.
Once finished with your nightly routine and dressed for bed, you pad into your husband's chamber and find him already lying down, his eyes closed and his hands resting over his chest. One could think he was asleep, but you know better now. With wonder, you observe that the place of his sword has shifted and moved to his left, right next to his mat, now that yours occupies the space it took before.
“My Lord,” you ask softly, “shall I blow out the candle?”
“Yes.” He replies, not moving or opening his eyes. Carefully, you pad over to the study table and blow out the candle before finding your place on the mat. With the noise of the crickets humming outside, you lie on your mat, pulling the blanket up to your chin and staring at the ceiling. Your blood thrums in your veins, your brain too wired to fall asleep. The excitement of lying next to your husband keeps you awake.
Once your eyes adjust to the darkness, you take tentative peeks at him and find him in the same position as he originally was. Is he sleeping? You wish you could tell.
“My Lord?” You speak, quiet as a mouse.
Silence.
“Hm?” He hums.
“Why do you sleep with your sword next to you?”
“Force of habit, I suppose…from the war.”
You hum in acknowledgement, looking at him eagerly amid the darkness. After a short pause, you call for him again. “My Lord?”
“Yes.”
“Can I sleep with you from now on?”
Silence. Seconds pass by, but no answer comes, and you start to think that he has fallen asleep. Just then, he finally replies, his voice quiet and deep in the solitude of the night. “If you wish to.” You smile, happy and wide, even though he cannot see you. “Thank you, my Lord.”
Another short pause later, he murmurs. “Goodnight.” You take it as a sign that he does not wish to talk anymore, and with a nod, you shift and lie on your side, your right arm resting underneath your head. “Goodnight, my Lord.” You whisper with a smile.
—
You wake up just before sunrise.
The spot next to you is empty, and with no sign of your husband, you step out of his bedchamber in search of him. It is a rest day, so you wonder where he is so early in the morning.
You find the man in the backyard, already dressed, quietly observing the flowers in the garden. “My Lord?” You call for him.
“Oh, good morning.” He acknowledges you with a small nod. “Why are you up so early?”
“I woke up and you were not there. Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” He assures. “You should sleep some more.” You pause, carefully observing him. In the soft morning light, the man looks different, more relaxed and homely, dressed in his hanbok and his long raven hair draped elegantly against his back.
How can you leave his majestic man just for a few more hours of sleep?
“My Lord?”
“Hm?”
“Let us go for a walk.”
—
After quickly getting dressed, you and your husband go for a stroll, the early morning sun softly gleaming in the sky.
Your husband heads towards the nearby forest, which leads to a cliff offering a nice view of the town and the hilly background. He walks quietly with his hands behind him, his movements deliberately slow to accommodate your pace. With a soft smile that never leaves your lips, you walk alongside him, your heart thrumming happily.
Can this be called a date?
Without any words exchanged between the two of you, you navigate the path through the forest, your eyes skirting towards him every now and then. The silence between you is not awkward because you can see from his face that he is thinking deeply about something. So, you let him think and use the solitude to take peeks at his handsome face, memorizing the details of his visage.
By the time you reach the cliff, you are out of breath.
“Wow,” you wheeze out, panting for air as you rest with your palms on your knees.
“Are you alright?” General Choi asks, peering down to see your face. “Yes,” you nod, trying to control your breathing. “It has been a while since I came up here. The view is magnificent.”
“It is.” He hums, looking over the cliff. “That last time I came here, I was a child.” You share, standing up and gazing at the view. It is truly still beautiful.
“Why so long ago?”
“What?” You blink, looking at your husband, who is regarding you with a curious tilt of his head.
“Uh…” you think. “My father…he was not fond of me going out much. Especially anywhere far, after my brother died. He liked to keep me within his sight.”
He keeps looking at you attentively, and you wonder what he is thinking. Is he judging you?
Needing to fill the silence, you ramble. “On top of that, I have always been clumsy. I’m sure you have figured that out by now. Once, when I was a child, I somehow broke my arm playing in the yard. My brother ran all the way to the physician’s office with me on his back. With him gone, my father thought it would be better for me to be within the house. For my safety and his mental peace.”
“It was suffocating, no? That is why you married me. For freedom.” Your husband observes. You nod, albeit shakily, thinking of your days back at your parents' home. The cold treatment of your father and the way you were never enough. Not enough to take away the pain of them losing their son.
In the silence, you take a moment to gather your thoughts before facing the man next to you and voicing a question you have always wanted to ask. “Why did you choose to marry me?”
He takes a moment to answer.
“Because no one else wanted to. A lot of ministers tried to get me engaged to their daughters, but the girls refused when they saw me. Some even rejected just after hearing my name. They feared me.”
You find it ridiculous. “Why?” Your tone drips with bewilderment. “My reputation,” he shrugs. “My face does not help much, I suppose.”
“What do you mean?” You frown, leaning closer to him. He regards you in silence, as if the answer to that question is the most obvious thing in the world. “I am ugly.”
“What?” You gape at him, utterly befuddled. Does this man truly think that? His sharp eyes narrow on you, his brows knotting in confusion. “I do not know if you are making fun of me.”
“Why would I make fun of you?” You cry. This entire thing is ludicrous. “I simply find it absolutely enraging that you think so!”
He remains mute, watching you like you are an equation he needs to solve.
You take a tentative step closer to him, mumbling, “It is true that your reputation is scary. I also feared you for that in the beginning. I do not know if you are aware, but people say all types of crazy things about you.” You pause, inching even closer to him. With a few small inches between the two of you, you look up and meet his eyes, hoping to convey your sincerity. “But as I got to know you…I have realized there is nothing to fear. You are undoubtedly a cold man, my Lord, but you are also warm. Your heart is always in the right place. That alone is enough to make you the most beautiful man in the land.”
His face relaxes, and you can see how his gaze softens, the turbulent storms ever present in his eyes dissipating for a moment.
In the back of your mind, one thought runs rampant. You want to kiss him. In the soft morning light, he looks as breathtaking as ever, his lips soft and kissable. Remembering the touch of his lips against yours last night, you muster the courage and lean up on your tippy toes, pressing a quick, chaste kiss on his lips. The man immediately leans back, a look of surprise on his face. Ignoring his reaction, you smile and step back, facing the view again. Your husband clears his throat before silently joining you in gazing at the view.
A while later, you voice out another thought. “My Lord, when you said not to expect anything from you, what did you mean?”
He takes a moment to answer. “I don’t know. Just do not expect anything from me. I cannot give you anything.”
Frowning, you face him. “But you have already given me so much.”
“I do not believe that.”
You sigh. The cranky man is returning. Hitching your skirt, you walk closer to him, determined. “What did you mean, my Lord? I cannot expect what?” He huffs out a frustrated breath. “Whatever a wife expects from her husband, I suppose.”
Your frown deepens. “What? Love? Attention? Devotion?”
“I will be devoted to you, but I cannot give you love.” His words are like a punch to the gut. “Why not?” You plead.
He hesitates. “I…just cannot.”
“You cannot or will not?”
His eyes, sharp and fiery, pierce right through you, and you see the truth in his eyes. You see the answer he refuses to utter. “Let us get back.” He announces, turning on his heel and dismissing you, starts marching down the path. You scoff, watching with an open mouth as he almost runs down the track to escape answering your question.
This stubborn, frustrating man.
—
After breakfast, General Choi goes out to visit an old friend. With a sour mood, you shuffle through the house, watching as everyone remains busy with their work. You try to practice some needlework but fail to get far with that. As always, your hand at embroidery is embarrassingly bad. For two hours, you try to create a flower on a handkerchief, but when it turns out looking questionable, you drop the task.
You find San sitting outside on the porch, chatting animatedly with Headservant Yang. “My Lady, are you bored?” Headservant Yang asks upon seeing you walk over. With your shoulders slumped, you nod, pouting.
“General Choi will not be back for some time. Should we play a game then? San offers.
Your eyes shine. “Sure!”
—
Your game of baduk with San lasts even after sunset.
You keep playing match after match, your own competitive streak matching his. He does not go easy on you just because you are married to his General, and that makes it all the more fun.
Your husband returns right before lunch and after observing the two of you for a mere minute, he leaves, locking himself in his study for the rest of the day. His disinterest irks you, and you decide to ignore him as well, honing all your attention towards the game. During different times, Headservant Yang and Jihye stop by between their work, watching you two play with rapt fascination.
The game only ends with you winning, long after the sky has gone dark. Cheers and yells erupt in the small crowd of servants gathered to watch the game. You grin cockily, finally standing up and stretching your legs. San accepts his defeat and takes his leave, not before you make him promise to join you another day for another match.
“Would you like to have your bath first or dinner, my Lady?” Headservant Yang asks. You ponder, still reeling from the high of winning. “Did my husband have dinner?”
“Yes, my Lady.” You sigh. “Well then, I will have my dinner now and then take my bath.”
—
After your bath, you sit in your room with the mirror in front of you while Jihye combs your hair. “Today was a fun day, no, my Lady?” She asks.
“Yes,” you hum. “It is a shame General Choi did not join us.”
“Indeed.”
“Where has he been all day?”
“In his room, my Lady. He was studying.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Your husband truly does not know how to have fun. Instead of spending a rest day with his wife, he would rather read and strategize and sulk by himself.
As if he could hear your thoughts, the man appears with a knock at your door and steps in a second later. Jihye excuses herself, leaving the two of you alone, the room suddenly buzzing with tension.
Your husband regards you with that same unreadable face, but something in you tells you that he is grumpier than usual. Still, you try to be civil. “Hello, my Lord.”
“Lady Choi. It was hard to catch sight of you all day.”
Yes. He is annoyed about something. The subtle bite in his voice is unmissable. You finish combing the ends of your hair before setting the comb down. “My apologies about that. I was too immersed in the game of baduk.”
“Yes, I noticed.” He peers down at you, his eyes ethereally flashing in the soft lights of your chamber. “You seemed to quite enjoy your time with San.”
“He is an excellent player. He also mentioned that you used to play with him.” You supply, trying to understand what might be the cause of his annoyance.
“I don’t know about excellent.” He murmurs, looking away from you. “I taught him, true, but he is no match for me.”
You narrow your eyes. What is he implying? “I am sure he is not, my Lord.” You force a smile.
“Yet, you chose to spend the entire day with him.” This time, he snaps, clear and offended. Your jaw hangs low, surprised at his pettiness. You stand up frowning. “You were away, my Lord.”
“Not the entire day. I returned long ago, but you were too busy playing with him till dinner time.” He grumbles, not meeting your eyes but staring at the lamp. Stunned, you gape at him, trying to understand where he is coming from.
Your heart flutters. Is it possible that he is jealous?
“My Lord,” you step closer to take a look at his face. “Are you…jealous?”
“Ha!” He scoffs, stepping away. “Why would I be jealous of that little punk?” he half yells, waving his hand dismissively like he is swatting away a bug.
Your spirits dampen, and annoyance starts to take over. You give him a saccharine sweet smile that is evidently fake. “Well then, there is nothing to worry about. Shall we head to bed?”
He refuses to let the topic go. “You finally remembered me, no? Now that it is time to sleep?”
The thread holding you together snaps. With gritted teeth, you stare at him, trying your level best to keep your tone neutral. “Well, when your husband dismisses you at every chance he gets and tries to run from you at the mere mention of intimacy, a girl would naturally be upset and spend time elsewhere. I hope you pardon her for spending some time away from him.” You bow dramatically in apology, making sure that he understands it is sarcasm.
“Wha—” He regards you, eyes wide and mouth agape, like he cannot believe the words coming from your lips. “You—” He seems to be at a loss for words.
You step past him, but he raises a finger at you. “So you prefer San over me? Is that what you are saying?”
You roll your eyes at his words. However, today there is an urge within you to push him to his limit. So, you whip your head back and glare at him.
“Who knows?” You singsong. Your husband’s eyes only enlarge, the look of pure shock taking over his face, his mouth hanging open wider than before. “Maybe I do. Maybe I do prefer him over you. He spends time with me, after all. Despite today being a rest day, you stayed in your room all day when you could have joined us. So what if I prefer his company?” You add the last line for good measure, trying to appear as threatening as possible.
“Take that back,” he says, his tone quiet. The look on his face starts to shift towards something serious.
You egg him on. “I won’t! In fact, from now on, I will spend more time with him. Who knows, he might give me all the love and attention you refuse.”
The man finally snaps. In the flash of an eye, he is right in front of you, his hand behind your neck pulling you so close to him that you feel his breath. All earlier pettiness and playfulness are gone. He looks like a raging beast, barely hanging on by a thread.
“Take that back. Tell me you do not mean it or I swear to God, I will chop his head off.” He grits, his voice shaking with anger and his grip on your skin tightening. His eyes are like two molten pools of lava, angry and bright, and he has never looked hotter.
Without wasting a second, you smash your lips with his, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer and closer towards you.
The force of your kiss is so strong that it knocks him back a few steps. However, he is quick to recover, meeting your lips with even more passion, a side of him completely new to you. Raw and unchained, he goes all in, devouring your lips like it is his salvation.
You don’t hold back either.
You let go of your body weight entirely, pushing him on the ground below you while never letting go of his lips. Your hands—his and yours—move frantically to claw at each other through the layers of fabric. With a huff, your husband finally removes his lips from yours, a long string of saliva connecting your lips to his. “If we continue…I cannot hold back.” He pants, his eyes wild and shining.
His words make you giddy with anticipation, molten hot pools of lava swirling in your belly.
“That is what I want,” you whisper, feeling the cold air against your swollen lips. “I do not want you to hold back.” Slowly, you snake your arms around his neck and you move closer to his face. With a mere inch between your lips, you murmur, “I want you to devour me, my Lord.”
Your husband makes a sound, a low, primal grunt that comes from the deepest part of his chest. He exhales sharply, determination swirling in his eyes as he finally lets go of all the restraint he had been practicing till now.
In a flash, he flips your positions, holding you against the ground, his large body looming over yours. Your breath catches in your throat with the view on top of you, and he has not even taken off his clothes yet. Desire thrums in your veins, making you curl your toes in anticipation.
“I will ruin you tonight.” That is a promise. His voice is laced with something dark, like he will thoroughly enjoy ruining you. Little does he know, you will enjoy it too.
“Please, my Lord.” You beg, all too eager to become his.
His eyes flash at your words, and immediately, his hands get to work. They move with ease, graceful yet quick, as he strips you off your garments. All too soon, you are left only in your underskirt, your bare chest exposed for his eyes to feast on. You have the urge to cover them, and as if your husband can read your mind, he grabs your hands and links your fingers with his, pinning them on top of your head.
“Do not hide from me,” he commands, his lips hovering over yours. You nod, jittery with need and anticipation.
Once sure your hands will not move, he slowly traces his fingers from your jawbone to your neck and then your shoulder, before reaching for your braid. You shift and let him hold your hair, his fingers gently caressing over the long braided strands. His fingers trace over your daenggi before tugging on it sharply. Undone, the strip of cloth comes off as your hair starts to loosen from the braid.
“So beautiful.” He hums, holding a few strands of hair between his fingers. He places a soft kiss on them before reaching for your hands. With your daenggi, he ties your wrists together, making sure the knot will hold before placing your hands back where they were, arms stretched straight on top of your head.
“Be a good girl.” He whispers, his voice sultry, his gaze half lidded yet dangerous. Your heart hammers loudly in your chest as the reality of what is happening actually starts to settle in your bones.
You are half-naked, tied up and vulnerable underneath your husband. The man they call the Grim Reaper, the most merciless man in the land. Yet, you are not afraid.
You watch as he shifts, making himself comfortable between your spread legs. He lifts your underskirt, exposing your core, and despite the urge to close your legs, you cannot.
“So beautiful. It will be a treat to ruin you.” He hums, his eyes focused between your legs, a faint smirk playing on his lips. Without any warning, he slaps you between your legs, right on your sensitive flesh, the sharp whack echoing through the quietness of the night.
“Ah!” You cry, mortified and surprised. It stings but also unlocks a new sensation of pleasure within you. Your face heats up as you realize how much you enjoyed it, a deep and deprived sense of pleasure.
He slaps you again. “Do you like it? I can see you are getting wet.” He says, his flashing eyes set on your face.
You make a pathetic noise of agreement. “Answer me!” He commands, slapping you once more. A long, needy moan is ripped from your throat. You pant. “Y-yes, my Lord.”
Pleased, he smirks before leaning down to press kisses on your inner thighs. He moves slowly and deliberately, playing with you, nibbling on your skin with his teeth before giving it a soothing lick and making sure it is marked. When he sits back up, his eyes trace all over your face as if he is trying to remember every small detail about you. You do the same, peering at him through your lashes with bated breath, wishing you could pull him closer for another kiss.
You could spend your entire life kissing this man.
With the ease and grace of a panther that has trapped its prey, your husband moves, enveloping you with his body, his hair falling over you like a black curtain. Lying on top of you, one of his hands holds on to the nape of your neck while the other explores your body, teasingly moving down your waist and between your legs. His warm fingers trace your core, feeling the wetness gathered between your legs. Without losing eye contact, he plays with you, dipping his fingers inside, making you shiver and whimper and continues to smirk knowingly.
He pushes his index and middle finger inside you, just up to his knuckles and the intrusion have you shuddering, your core throbbing like it has its own heartbeat. A breathy moan tears from your lips, and he uses the opportunity to lean in and bite your lip softly.
Dear god. You whimper. “Please.”
“What?” He mouths against your lips. “T-touch me,” you reply, chasing his lips to reconnect with yours.
You hear him scoff cockily. “I am touching you, wife.” His title for you makes you only more desperate. You whine, starting to writhe, “More.”
You feel him smile against your mouth, his fingers slipping all the way in. His lips trace your jaw, his nose pressed against your skin before trailing down your neck, while his fingers start moving in and out. Involuntarily, your hips writhe, chasing his fingers while he peppers your neck with kisses and bites before fixing on a particular spot beneath your ear that makes you whimper. Then, he uses his thumb to give you a flick, his dark eyes trained on your face as your pleasure amplifies.
“Oh my god,” you shut your eyes closed, reveling in the feeling of his fingers inside you. He starts to pick up pace, moving the fingers in tandem, circling them inside you and giving your clit an occasional flick. You wrap your legs around his lower waist, crossing them over and pulling him even closer, a desperate attempt at trying to ease the growing ache. Inside you, his fingers move rapidly, making your body tense as you start climbing your high, the coil in your belly pulling tight.
“My L-lord…” You pant, looking at him with pleading eyes, even though you are unsure what you are trying to say. “Say my name,” he commands, dark eyes trained on you.
You feel even hotter, the coil in your belly pulled impossibly tight. “S-Seungcheol.”
“That is right. Scream my name.” He orders, eyes hazy with a film of lust and possessiveness. As if teasing you, his thumb brushes over your clit ever so slightly, drawing out a shuddering whine from your lips that makes him chuckle quietly. The sound feels like magic to your ears, a drug to your system that heightens your pleasure. His teeth dig into the soft flesh of your neck, undoubtedly leaving a mark.
“P-please Seungcheol,” you heave, eyes closed shut, fingernails digging into your palms. Humming against your neck, he uses his fingers to rub an even deeper spot inside you as his thumb rubs your clit mercilessly.
“Please!” You hiss, throwing your head back, your toes curling as you wail. “I… I cannot…”
“You are going to cum for me. Now,” his voice is a quiet order.
He curls his fingers inside you one last time and flicks your clit hard with his thumb, sending you over the edge. Your release is a tidal wave of mind-breaking pleasure as your body goes tense, your hips arching off the bed, your mouth hanging open as a reaction to the overwhelming pleasure; your first orgasm.
You experience a type of bliss you had no idea existed, and for a moment, your mind goes blank, your body lying taut and tense underneath his. The onslaught of pleasure leaves your vision blurry with unshed tears and your mind numb to everything as you slowly descend from the throes of heavenly bliss and register that your husband is sitting upright between your legs.
With his relentless gaze locked with yours, he slowly licks his fingers clean, his long pink tongue darting out to caress his digits as he hums, “This is the sweetest pussy I have ever had.”
The sight is more than erotic, and for a moment, you are scared you will die from a heart attack. You want this man. You need him all at once, in every way possible. There is an ache coming from the depths of your soul that only he can satisfy.
“Please…untie me. I want to touch you.” You beg, hoping he takes mercy. It has been torture keeping your hands off of him. Hearing your plea, he takes mercy and undoes the ribbon tying your wrists. Free, you immediately sit up and wrap yourself around him, pulling him close for a kiss. Vigorously, wantonly, you kiss him and taste yourself on his tongue, moaning and gripping onto his back, your fingers itching to touch his skin underneath his nightshirt.
“Please take this off,” you breathe against his mouth. Your husband smiles, undoubtedly enjoying teasing you. “Why?”
“Because…I want to see you.” You whisper sweetly, looking at him through your lashes. The man obliges, letting his hands off you for a moment to take off his shirt.
The sight of his naked body renews the heat between your legs, a new wave of desire overcoming your system. You let yourself gawk at the expanse of the muscles on his chest and the bulky thickness of his arms, all littered with scars, strong and dependable. As he stares at your face for a reaction, you reach for him absentmindedly, dragging your index finger over a scar on his right bicep. It is long, old, and jagged, rough and bumpy to the touch. Without thinking, you lean towards his arm and softly press a kiss on the wound before slowly dragging your lips to his chest, where another scar has bloomed. “It must have hurt,” you whisper to yourself, pressing another kiss on the scar before meeting his eyes. “I want to see all of your scars, dear husband. And I want to kiss all of them. I want to kiss away your pain.”
Something flashes by his eyes, brief but vulnerable. He immediately snakes a strong around around your waist to pull you tight against him and seal his lips over yours in a possessive kiss.
With his lips tangled with yours, he carries you to the sleeping mat, setting you down gently. You sigh in satisfaction as your back meets the soft, warm quilt.
Your husband quickly gets to work, taking off your underskirt in a sharp yank and ripping it in the process. Surprised and embarrassed, you squeak, trying to hide yourself from his gaze. With the lamp burning right on the desk next to the mat, he has a pretty clear view of your body.
“Your pants…” You whisper, tugging them as well, and Seungcheol chuckles. “So desperate, aren't we?”
“Please,” you beg, throwing him your best pleading eyes as your hands roam around his back, feeling the ridge and bump of his muscles.
The man quickly takes off his pants, giving you the briefest glimpse of his cock. You barely get to see him as he leans down towards you again, his eyes locked with yours. He drags his palms up, cupping your breasts and squeezing them. A breathy sigh of pleasure falls from your lips as you automatically lean closer to his face, your lips chasing his. Seungcheol captures them in a soft, teasing kiss, his lips gently biting yours as you feel his cock brush against your thigh.
You shiver, goosebumps breaking out on your skin.
You are a ball of nerves right now, the idea of getting intimate with a man for the first time plaguing your mind with worry. Yet, at the same time, you are overcome with desire, need running through your veins.
This is scary yet perfect. Absolutely perfect.
Your husband attacks your neck, kissing and biting the skin while simultaneously playing with your breasts. You mewl, letting your head fall to one side to give him better access to your neck. He hums, the sound so deep and throaty you feel it in your core. His lips do not break contact with your skin, kissing and sucking your sensitive flesh until your whole body shakes like leaves in a tree.
“Please…” You beg, digging your nails into his shoulder, your body unconsciously starting to grind against him, desperate to ease the throbbing ache between your legs. Seungcheol, finally satisfied with the red spot blooming on your neck, lets you go, peering down at you with his hypnotizing eyes.
“I teased you a lot, did I not, wife?” He hums, caressing your heated face with his knuckles. Drunk with desire, you nod, your half-lidded gaze transfixed. “Please, take me, my Lord.”
He tsks disapprovingly. As if to prove a point, he wraps his hand around your throat but does not apply any pressure. “My name.”
“Seungcheol.” You reply immediately.
“Good girl.” Seungcheol smirks, his eyes flashing with something dark as he leans back on his heels, taking a slow, good look at your body. Then, spreading your legs wider, he spits on his fingers and using it as a lubricant over his cock before lining up with your entrance.
“This will hurt at first.” He warns. You nod, one hand covering your face as you choose to look at the ceiling out of embarrassment.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
“Look at me.” He demands, the tip of his cock brushing against your pussy lips, making you shiver and follow his command. “Keep your eyes on me. Watch me devour this tight cunt.”
You feel like someone set your face on fire. Face flushed with his crude words, you barely get to make a sound when Seungcheol thrusts himself inside you. Your head lolls forward with the impact as your hands immediately clutch his arm around your waist for support.
“Ah!” You cry out, eyes squeezed shut as you feel a sharp sting between your legs. “Fuck,” Seungcheol hisses, his voice throaty as he remains half buried inside you. Pausing for a moment, he lets you adjust before pulling back and then thrusting back in. This time, he goes all the way in, and you swear you feel him in your stomach. With a loud, pathetic cry, you cling onto his body, your brain unable to keep up with all the different sensations.
He builds a pace, pushing in and out of you in strong movements.
Your brain feels like mush as you fail to utter anything, your mouth simply hanging open to let out breathy pants as you close your eyes and feel every ridge of his cock move in and out of you, the initial pain of intrusion fizzling away. It is a blissful experience, a high you never want to come out of.
“Push out your hips a little,” he orders quietly, dark eyes set on you so intensely, you feel like he can see your soul.
Immediately, you comply, extending your waist towards him while keeping your upper back pressed to the mat. His hands hold your hip bone n a strong grip as he places a pillow under your ass and slides himself back inside you with a leisurely pace, the new angle making his length curve inside you.
You start seeing stars.
“Oh my god,” you hiss, eyes squeezed shut. The back of your thighs rests over Seungcheol’s, your legs dangling around his waist, and your hands clenched around the sleeping mat as he starts to pick up pace. With each thrust, the force increases, the tip of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot, low groans falling from his lips to match your breathy moans.
“I… I cannot…please” your whisper mindlessly, the words scattered and almost unintelligible due to your broken moans. “You want to come?” His voice is almost taunting as he leans closer to look at your face. “Well, that’s unfortunate. You do not come until I give you permission, wife.” Your husband warns, making you whine.
The need to find your release only intensifies. You are so close you can almost taste the blissful release.
“P-Please,” You beg, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your fingernails into his shoulder blades. “Say it louder. Scream my name. Who is fucking this tight pussy?’’ he grunts in your ears, his warm breath tickling your skin.
“Seungcheol!” The desperate yell is quick to leave your lips.
“Who will make you come?”
“You! Seungcheol!”
“That is right, wife. It is I, your husband.” He gives you a particularly harsh thrust. “Not San. Not any other man but me.”
“Y-yes. Please…” you sob. Gripping your chin, he forces you to look at him. “Who do you belong to?” His voice is as quiet as a winter night.
“You, my husband.” You manage to utter clearly amid his brutal thrusts. “Good girl,” he praises, nibbling on your jaw. One of his hands reaches below to touch your clit as he wastes no time rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves with the pads of his finger, all the while continuing to thrust inside you earnestly.
“Seungcheol!” You scream, your entire body jolting.
Your reaction makes him smirk as he chases his own high, seconds away from erupting inside you. He places your clit between his thumb and index finger, giving you a particularly harsh rub followed by a pinch.
You are catapulted over the edge. Your vision goes white, your entire sweat-coated body twitching from the intensity of the pleasure. It only amplifies as you feel Seungcheol spill inside you, his warm release filling you up and dripping lazily out of you.
You feel like you are floating from the bliss.
—
Your husband’s hand strokes your back in repeated soothing motions while you bask in the afterglow of your passionate lovemaking. With him lying behind you on the mat, your bodies pressed together, you move from reality to dreamland every now and then, the smile never leaving your face as you savour his touch and warmth.
“Are you asleep?” he softly asks, bringing his face closer to inspect you.
You make a noise and shake your head, too lazy to move. Your husband gently turns you so that you lie face to face.
“Are you in any pain?” You ask again, carefully looking at your face, his fingers brushing away the rowdy strands of hair from your face. You open your eyes and look at him with a gaze full of love. “I am perfect, husband. Thank you.”
He smiles when you address him by that name, a warm, gummy smile that shows his unbridled joy. The possessive madman from earlier has completely disappeared, replaced by a man eager to dote on his wife.
This is your first time seeing this side of your husband.
He pulls you against his chest, holding you tight in his arms. “No, thank you, wife. Thank you for being mine.” You smile, nuzzling his bare chest. This is the safest and most comfortable you have ever felt, and you do not want to let go. Ever.
After a moment of pause, he whispers. “I know I lack a lot. I can be clueless sometimes. So from now on, I hope you share with me whatever is on your mind. All your wishes, hopes and dreams, your desires— everything. I promise I will make them come true.”
You are too tired to form a reply, your body growing heavier each second but still, you smile. You peacefully drift off.
—
Seungcheol did not go to work today.
The news delights you when you hear it from Jihye as she helps you get dressed. Her eyes linger on your body, especially on your neck, where little marks have formed— evidence of your lovemaking.
She looks half worried and half scandalized, and you wink at her playfully before stepping out of your chamber. Your husband sits on the porch, fully dressed, basking in the sun with a book in his hand.
“Good morning, my Lord.” You whisper, feeling pathetically shy when you catch sight of him. He looks up, his eyes shining when they land on you. “Good morning, wife. How are you feeling?” Shyly, you walk over to him and sit down without leaving any space between the two of you. Fiddling with your skirt, you look away when you answer, “I am alright, my Lord.”
With a gentle grasp on your chin, he turns your face and forces you to look at him. “The truth.” He says quietly.
Truthfully, you are quite sore, and an ache has taken hold all over your body. However, you cannot complain. The ache is laced with pleasure, especially between your legs, reminding you of last night.
Your heart gallops in your chest as you look into his eyes. “I am a little sore,” you reply timidly. “But it is a good kind of sore, I promise.”
His eyes travel to your neck, eyeing the red marks visible on your skin. “I was too rough with you,” he murmurs, his tone laced with regret, his eyes focused on your neck. Quickly, you snap him out of it. “Not at all, my Lord.” You sling your arms with his, pulling him closer so that you can rest your face on his shoulder. “You were just perfect. I enjoyed it. A lot.” You whisper, face flushing.
Your husband keeps gazing at you like he does not believe you. Whipping your head around, you take a quick scan around the yard before pressing a sweet kiss on his lips and giggling like a child. A soft smile blooms on his lips, even though he tries to stifle it.
“You should smile more, my Lord. You look so handsome.”
“Why are you calling me that? You called me by my name last night.” His lips form a soft pout as he complains. You pause, “Well…last night was…”
“You shall call me Seungcheol from now on.” He announces. “I would like it even more if you gave me a nickname.”
Wide eyed, you look at him.
“Do you understand me, wife?”
“Yes, husband.”
Happy with that for now, he does not pester you anymore. You rest your head on his shoulders, your hands intertwined, and watch the morning sky in silence.
“You asked me to share all my wishes with you last night.” You speak after a while, eyes focused somewhere distant. “Can I share one with you right now?”
“Of course,” he shifts so that his body faces you.
Tilting your head up, you admire a white, fluffy cloud. “Ever since my brother died, I have only had one wish for my life. I wanted to live by the sea in a small house. In that house, there would be my husband and I, and we would spend the rest of our days there, away from all the noise and bleakness of this town.”
“That sounds lovely.” He murmurs. You nod before looking at him. “Do you think it would ever be possible for us?”
He remains silent.
“Given the nature of your job, I understand. However, I need you to promise me one thing. You must take care of yourself. You must not get hurt, do you hear me? You have someone to come home to now. You must think about me and you must return home to me, do you understand?” Your hands grip his in an earnest hold.
His free hand comes to rest on top of yours, and he gives you a reassuring squeeze, warm and soft. “Rest easy, wife. I shall come back to you. Always.”
A lone drop of tear strolls down your cheek, and he wipes it away with his thumb before pressing the softest, feather-like kiss on your forehead. After a moment's pause, you speak. “Now it is your turn to share something with me.”
He regards you with confusion.
“Anything. A wish, a secret…” You stare at him with eagerness. He sighs softly, his eyes trained on his lap as he thinks about something.
“Well…when I told you not to expect anything from me,” he begins, looking almost shy, his gaze soft and apologetic. “I was afraid. I wanted to keep you at an arm's length from the beginning because I was scared of losing you. I have lost everyone close to me, and the thought of going through something like that again terrifies me. Since I joined the military, I have kept myself detached from everyone because the less I cared, the better.”
Your heart aches for the man. With gentle fingers, you brush away the unruly strands of hair from his face and trace the scar next to his eye. “You will not lose me, husband. I am right here.” You promise.
He wraps his arms around you as if to test your words. You wrap yourself around him, basking in his embrace, your bodies melting into one. “Do not leave me.” He whispers, his voice raw and vulnerable.
“Never.”
—
Seungcheol left for the palace early today. After two days of relaxation, a letter came for him last night from the palace, demanding his presence first thing in the morning.
At night, Seuncheol held you tight in his arms, soothing away your worries. He finally shared what has been going on in the palace and why there are assassins after him.
Turns out they are working for the Minister of Trade, who is strictly against the new reformations currently being done by the king, like an attempt to abolish the slavery system. Seungcheol has been the King’s number one ally and a powerful piece in the game, which is why they are after him. Removing him from the equation is as good as stripping the King of his powers. Minister Kim has done exceptionally well in covering up his tracks, which is why there is no solid proof against him, complicating this entire issue. He has been playing a cat-and-mouse game with the royal army for a while now.
Your husband left even before you woke up, leaving a note for you promising he would be home for dinner.
The day slowly passes by with you going to the palace and coming home once your shift is over, always under the watchful eye of San. The mood in the palace has been tense today, different rumours about Minister Kim floating in the air and a sinking feeling forms in your gut. No matter how hard you try, you cannot shake off the feeling that something ominous is about to take place.
Your suspicion starts taking shape when dusk falls and Seungcheol does not return. It turns into terror and restlessness as night falls, and still, there is no sign of him. The supper grows cold, and you fall asleep upright, waiting for him, your husband, who never comes.
When you open your eyes again, you find Jihye sitting next to you, a worried look on her face. “What is it?” You immediately sit up straight. “My lady, it is past midnight. Master has not returned yet. Should we send someone to the palace to ask for him?” She asks.
Your fingers fist around your skirt, anxiety coursing through your veins like poison. “We should.” You whisper.
Just as you are following Jihye out of the room, you hear commotion; the voice of a servant and Headservant Yang. Running to the porch, you see Seungcheol entering the house, dressed in his military uniform, his sword in his hand.
He marches straight towards you and drags you into your bedchamber without any words. “My Lord, where have you been!” You cry, gripping his arm. “I have been waiting for you—”
“Listen to me carefully,” he cuts you off, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to be at your eye level. His usual unbothered demeanour is gone, replaced by worry that you see in his eyes as vividly as daylight.
Something must be wrong. Your heart starts racing.
“The Minister of Trade is planning to attack us here tonight. They will be here anytime, so I need to get you out of here.”
“Wha— How did you even find that out? Are you sure?”
“The royal army captured a member of his team yesterday. We tortured the information out of him. Look at me,” he urges you, his fingers gripping your shoulder even tighter. “Minister Kim knows we are onto him. He has gone into hiding. He will stop at nothing to get to me, to you, do you understand? He plans to go down and drag me with him.” You see the fear in his eyes. The unshakable, indestructible man suddenly appears different, and this change terrifies you.
“I am scared.” You whisper.
“You have nothing to be scared of.” He pulls you in his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. “I am going to send you to a safe place. I need you to do as I say, okay?”
You nod shakily, your fingers holding onto his sleeve in a death grip.
“Pack your essentials. We will leave within thirty minutes. Ask Jihye to help you.” He says, pressing a kiss on your forehead before marching outside.
With your heart hammering in your chest, you get to work, moving your shaky limbs to pack a bag with the help of Jihye. Soon, you are ready, and Seungcheol wastes no time wrapping everything up. He places Headservant Yang and the other servant in another neighbor's house to make sure they are safe before setting out with you.
In the darkness of the night, you get onto his horse with his help, followed by him sitting behind you, his arms around you to hold onto the reins. Jihye and another male servant get on another horse, and finally, a royal soldier follows from behind.
A little to the south of the town, there is a long, dense forest which leads to a small, quaint village. There is an ancient shrine there, inhabited by monks, and that is where Seungcheol intends to get you by dawn.
The silence grows heavier and thicker as you tread into the forest; the only sound echoing around is the soft galloping of the horses. You shiver, more from dread than from the cold night air and Seungcheol notices it. “Hold the reins.” He orders quietly so that his hands are free. He takes off the muffler wrapped around his neck and gently puts it around yours.
“I asked you to pack the essentials, wife.” His tone is playful. “I think a muffler in this weather counts as an essential.” He teases, and you understand it is his attempt to soothe you. “I am sorry, my lord. You should keep it. You will catch a cold.” You murmur.
“Hush now,” he shushes you, taking back the reins. “You should lean on me and close your eyes. It will take a while for us to reach there.”
“No, it is okay.” You reply, eyes focused ahead on the dark, narrow road cutting through the forest.
It is such a gloomy night. You cannot spot a single star in the sky, shrouded by clouds.
Time ticks by. The night grows darker.
Your journey continues through the hour of the ox and into the hour of the tiger. Exhaustion takes over you, and unable to resist it any longer, you close your eyes and lean your head back, resting it against your husband’s shoulder. It is not an ideal condition to get some shut-eye, but somehow you doze off.
When your eyes reopen, you hear the loud sound of a horse neighing and its heavy galloping. Seungcheol holds you tighter, and with a sharp tug of the reins and a nudge of his heels, his horse leaps into a full sprint. You look around worriedly, scanning through the dense bushes surrounding you.
“Master! Did they find us already?” Servant Min cries from behind as his horse too picks up pace.
The sounds grow louder, and just as your body tenses up, fearing the worst, you see San pop up from inside the forest, his horse taking a lunge and joining you on the road. “General, you have to keep going!” He yells. “They are right behind us.”
Seungcheol’s horse sprints parallel to his.
“How did they catch up so quickly?”
“Minister Kim had his men spread out. They were hiding in a camp a few miles behind. I took care of them, but the messenger escaped. I’m sure the minister is on his way. You need to move fast. There might be more of his men hiding in the forest.”
Upon hearing his words, you notice the specks of red on his hanbok. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you look behind to see your husband’s face. His jaw is clenched tight. “We need to come up with a plan. If they find us, we cannot hold them off. I need to get my wife to safety.” He yells back.
It is as if a cactus is lodged in your throat. “W-what do you mean?” You cry, your face aghast.
He does not reply to you.
“It will be daybreak soon, General! We should hide somewhere.” San suggests.
Just then, you notice a sudden, strange ball of light in the sky, a little towards your right. It takes a moment for you to register that it is a signal, an arrow of fire shot from behind you.
“There are assassins ahead of us. They now know we are headed that way.” Seungcheol hisses.
“I will take care of it.” San nods, wielding his sword and screaming at the horse, “Go!” The horse runs faster, impossibly so, almost flying forward.
“I need you to stay calm and follow my orders.” Your husband says to you. “Do you hear me?” You nod shakily, “Yes.”
In five minutes, you catch up to San, who has taken care of most of the assassins that sat ahead at the curve. As you sprint near, Seungcheol hands the reins to you and readies his bow and arrow, taking perfect shots at the rest of the assassins. Then, he smoothly gets off the horse, followed by the other soldier who has been accompanying you, their swords wielded as they fight one-on-one.
A little ahead of the curb, you stop the horse and so does Jihye and servant Min, watching the fight anxiously. The three men take multiple assassins at a time, making sure they do not get to you.
You chew on your lower lip, your hands fidgeting as you watch the fight unfold. You wish Seungcheol gave you an archery set. You know the basics because you practised regularly as a child with your brother. Even though after his death, you stopped it for a while, you did not completely let go, taking occasional lessons from the older nobleman in your neighbourhood who used to be a skillful archer once upon a time.
By the time the last member of the group has been killed, shades of blue have coated the sky. Seungcheol and his team run back to the horses, their clothes specked with blood. “Come on, we need to leave,” he says, mounting the horse.
There is a sudden sound; a sharp whoosh like a strong gust of wind just flew by, followed by a soft thud.
It is an arrow.
It whizzes towards you, missing the mark and hitting the tree trunk a couple of inches to your left. Your heart stops. A few hundred meters from the way you came, a large group of armed men show up. It is Minister Kim’s convoy.
They have caught up to you.
At the center, leading them is the minister himself, dressed in iron like he is about to go to war. His eyes, black and empty, scour the dead bodies of his assassins lying on the ground in front of him before looking at your husband.
His thin lips curl up into an evil smile. “General! No point in running now! It’s time to see how good of a fighter you are!” He yells.
You feel Seungcheol's body growing tenser with each passing second, his hand gripping your thigh in a bruising hold. You, too, are paralyzed with fear, unsure of what to do. Then, absolutely shocking you, Seungcheol does the thing you least expected him to do. He starts getting off the horse slowly, his eyes trained on Minister Kim.
“San, take my wife and go.” He speaks quietly to the younger man who hadn’t gotten on his horse yet. “My Lord, what are you—” You do not get to finish your sentence because the younger man has instantly climbed behind you and snatched the reins from your hands.
“Get them!” You hear a shout as you are swept away with lightning speed. San’s grip around your body is iron solid, holding the reins with his eyes focused ahead on climbing the steep, hilly road at the end of the forest.
“No, please! You need to be with him!” You cry, fighting against him as you look behind to see Seungcheol fighting the Minister’s men, accompanied by the other soldier.
He can never outfight all those people.
“Have faith in him. He knows what he is doing.” San assures, kicking his heels so the horse runs faster. You hear sounds right behind you, and you turn to see an assassin on a horse, aiming his arrow at you. San takes notice of it and swerves right immediately to avoid it.
As calculated, it misses, but a second later, your horse neighs out loud, standing on its hind legs before dropping down on the ground, taking the two of you with it. The arrow was meant for the horse. It struck his leg, injuring him, leaving the animal on the ground, softly crying in pain.
San wastes no time getting up and wielding his sword to fight off the man and the others following behind him. Jihye and servant Min, who were right behind you, yell out, calling for you to get on their horse. Jihye extends her hand towards you, but you ignore her, bunching up your skirt and making a run towards the curb.
“My Lady, what are you doing?” San yells, fighting off the assassins. “Jihye, stop her!”
“My Lady, come back!”
Ignoring their cries, you pick up the bow and set of arrows dropped by the assassin and continue sprinting down the steep road.
Then, finding a safe distance and a place behind an oak tree, you spot your husband, his movements sharp and precise as he takes down one man after the other. You watch as the minister slowly walks towards him, his sword dragging on the ground, leaving behind a threatening trail. Due to him wearing the armored plates, you know it is pointless to shoot at him, so you load your bow and aim at the assassins and start shooting.
The first one grazes past the man you aim at. Not discouraged, you continue, and the second one hits the target.
Your husband looks in your direction immediately when the assassin drops dead, his eyes going from confusion to worry the moment he spots you. He does not have the time to do anything about it, as he has to fight the never-ending men.
And you are slightly grateful for that. Right now, he does not have the chance to come to you and force you away, giving you the chance to help him from afar. You continue loading arrows and shooting, missing some but hitting most, well aware of the fact that the Minister has spotted you.
From behind, you hear Jihye coming towards you, her exhausted pleas echoing down the path. “Jihye, I need more arrows!” You yell as you come down to your last two. “There should be some on the road back there!”
By now, most of the assassins have been taken care of, and the remainder are being fought by the soldier accompanying your husband. Minister Kim has approached Seunghceol as they engage in a heated sword fight, the minister swinging his sword like a madman, his growls echoing in the air. Your eyes scan around the place, thinking of finding a way to help Seungcheol, when San finally catches up to you, followed by Jihye, who did not get the arrows you asked for.
“My Lady, enough!” he yells. “You cannot be here! The road has been cleared—”
“We need to help him!” you yell back. “I cannot leave him here for—” You do not get to finish your sentence.
An arrow hits Seungcheol, piercing through the skin right below his right shoulder, on the top of his chest.
“No!” You scream, watching him stumble back for a moment. Your eyes fly through the scene, spotting an archer hidden inside the forest a little ahead towards your right. As you load your bow to take a shot at him, San finally comes to his senses, flying down the road to help Seungcheol.
You take the shot.
The arrow hits the hidden archer right in the chest, making him tumble backwards, disappearing out of sight. Then, you dash down the road, not scared of anything anymore, Jihye following you as your shadow.
San stands no match to Minister Kim, easily overpowered and tossed aside by his brute strength. He has the eyes of a madman, hell bent on getting to Seungcheol, discarding everything in his way like little bugs.
“I told you, you scarred lunatic!” He screams, charging at your husband. “I will slice your head off your neck and then do the same to your wife!”
He swings his sword around, charging for Seungcheol with all his might. Seungcheol blocks him with his sword, but the force of the attack forces him to fall to his knees. Minister Kim takes the opportunity to knock him off his feet with a kick. Seungcheol falls on the ground on his back, and in the split second, the minister raises his sword towards the sky before bringing it down sideways on his chest.
“Seungcheol!” You yell at the top of your lungs. “General!” San yells, coming from behind and tackling Minister Kim to the ground before he can fully swing his sword across. His helmet falls off from the force of San's attack. With your heart thundering in your ears, you point the remaining arrow at him.
It is like your body is not yours anymore. With zero hesitation, you take the shot while he is still pinned to the ground, struggling to get free, and the arrow hits the bullseye, right in the center of his forehead.
His body slumps to the ground.
Pushing him away, San holds your husband’s lifeless body, his eyes slowly falling shut as he yells his name. Jihye and servant Min run past you, calling their master.
The bow drops from your hand.
You stand there, watching the ground go red underneath your husband’s body, your fingers gripping his muffler around your neck.
—
Seungcheol receives his initial treatment in the shrine you were originally supposed to visit.
Once the news of the attack reached the capital, upon the king’s orders, the royal physician Yoon came to treat Seungcheol. He and his assistants crowded the room, tending to your husband’s injury with medicine and wrapping the area with gauze as he lay motionless on the mat.
You stood just outside the room, gazing at your sleeping husband, who looked nothing like his usual self—pale and frail, his body littered with little cuts.
Why won’t he wake up? You miss his eyes. You miss his slow, unravelling gaze on you, his crimson, fiery eye that can almost cut through stone with a simple gaze. Where is that man?
Physician Yoon said he is in a deep sleep. They call it a vegetative state. The injury was quite lethal; the wound just a few centimetres away from damaging his heart. He said that the worst is over, and his pulse is stable now.
But he won’t wake up. He remains unresponsive, and it is unclear how long it will take for him to regain consciousness.
“I see,” was all you said, standing motionless in your spot, gazing at your comatose husband.
A couple of days later, the King sent a royal convoy to move Seungcheol back to his house from the shrine. You had no complaints, wanting your husband to rest comfortably in his own house rather than a shrine. After a long journey, you reached home in the afternoon, greeted by Headservant Yang, who looked as devastated as you. After making sure your husband was okay, physician Yoon left, leaving you anticipating yet another sleepless night.
It is nighttime now, and you sit still next to your sleeping husband. Headservant Yang peeks into the room, begging you to have some food. You ignore her, sitting quietly and observing your husband. The small lamp in the bedchamber casts warm shadows on his face, his sharp features appearing softer and weaker.
He looks oddly at peace. You do not cry. You force a smile.
Leaning closer to him, you glide a gentle hand down his face and whisper, “You can rest. You have had a tough life, my dear. You can rest as long as you need, but you have to come back to me.”
You will pray to every god out there. You will visit every shrine, give unlimited offerings, and pray that your husband returns to you. You will do everything in your power to see him open his eyes. It is truly a shame you do not have much power in your hands.
Sometime later, your exhausted body falls into deep slumber, riddled with nightmares. Your husband lies in a pool of blood, and he does not wake up.
—
The next morning, your father comes to see you. You do not move from your spot next to your husband to greet him as San leads him into the room before excusing himself.
He sits next to you, watching his son-in-law with small, worried eyes, muttering words of regret and concern. You hardly hear them, too busy patting Seungcheol’s face and arms with a damp cloth. Physician Yoon left a while ago after checking up on him and said that there is no progress. The king’s personal messenger came with him as well as the Head Eunuch, praying for Seungcheol and assuring to provide help in any way they can.
You couldn't care less about them. You sent them off, handing the letter you wrote for the king in the messenger’s hand before asking San to see them out.
“My daughter, you should eat something. You have to take care of yourself so that you can take care of him.” Your father urges.
You finish wiping your husband’s body in silence before setting the rag down and clasping his hand in yours. They are calloused but warm, and you silently send a prayer of gratitude to the heavens. He is alive. He is still here.
Tracing over his bruised knuckles with your fingertips, you whisper, “You know, Father, I have been lonely for a long time. After orabeoni died, I thought that was it. It could not get worse, but then Mother died. And I…I hated that I was alive. Because in that house, I was dead. I was dead while still being alive.”
You exhale a shaky breath, pulling Seungcheol’s hand closer to inspect it. You need to apply ointment on his knuckles.
“There was no colour, no joy, no celebration in that house. You were there but also not there. You never saw me. I was not enough, not after losing someone as precious as orabeoni. I felt so guilty. It should have been me, not him—that is all I could think of. I thought my entire life would be miserable like that, which is why I was so eager to marry this man.”
Another heavy sigh whooshes out of your lungs.
“Father, this man…people fear him. They say all sorts of weird things about him. But he is the kindest, warmest man I know. He kept his heart locked and hidden from the world, but he is so precious. He is gentle and kind, and he loves me. He loves me so dearly, Father, and I love him. How could I go on without him?”
And finally, the tears fall. Big droplets of water roll down your cheek as you fall on the ground, clutching onto your husband’s hand and sobbing into the floor, loud and broken.
Your father’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder rather unsurely, softly patting you as you keep crying, the tears that never came till now gushing out like a river with a broken dam. Your broken heart continues to shatter into even smaller pieces, and you cannot help but wonder what if he never wakes up again. Maybe you are doomed to be lonely.
The thought makes you cry some more. After a while, once you have managed to calm down, you sit up and wipe your tears.
“I…I did not know you felt that way.” Your father whispers, his voice ridden with guilt. “I…I never meant to hurt you. I am sorry—”
“I don’t want your apology right now, Father. I want you to pray for him.” You cut him off.
“I will. Of course I will.” He says, his eyes shining with unshed tears and guilt. “And when he is back on his feet, I will come visit you and I will accept your apology then.” You murmur, your gaze trained on your husband.
“Of course. Have faith, my dear. He will be awake soon.” Your father assures, his voice unstable. You hum absentmindedly.
If Seungcheol does not wake up, you do not know what you will do.
—
The wind is particularly chilly this morning.
It has been a fortnight since Seungcheol fell into his comatose state, and he is just as before. Every day, Physician Yoon comes to check on him and then leaves while handing you some herbs to apply to his wound.
You have accepted this as your life now. Waking up every morning with a prayer that all the previous days were a long, gruesome nightmare, but then feeling grateful to see him still breathing, warm and alive.
After completing your daily prayer and offerings at the temple, you walk home in slow steps, the fatigue slowly creeping into your bones. The past week has been hard on you, and it looks like your body to starting to give up. You have not been eating properly, spending all your waking hours beside Seungcheol, tending to his comatose body or crying at the altar of the temple.
You cannot give up. Seungcheol is yet to awake.
Just as you come in front of your house, you find a small stray cat sitting comfortably in the sun. With a small, exhausted smile, you walk closer and crouch down, running your fingers through its shaggy fur. It looks dirty and disheveled, and you wonder where it is from.
You should probably bring it inside and give it some milk to eat. Judging by how comfortably it sits and basks in the sun, you are doubtful you will be able to get it inside your house.
“Would you like something to eat?” You whisper, gently scratching between its ears. The cat meows rather boredly, closing its eyes and resting its head on the ground after a quick swish of its tail.
Right then, a servant bursts out of the front door, looking like he saw a ghost. He looks back and forth down the road before finally spotting you on the ground. The wide-eyed, frazzled look on his face makes your blood run ice cold, and you immediately stand up.
“What is it?”
“My lady…Master is awake.”
You are free falling. You fall and fall, all the limbs of your body finally giving up after a week of war. For a long moment, you stand there, stuck in a daze. You don’t dare to breathe, afraid you would wake up and realize it was a dream.
“I will go get Physician Yoon. Please go inside, my lady.” The servant says before rushing down the street. You struggle to move. The stray cat at your feet has got up due to the commotion and is now strolling into the house.
With your heart racing in your chest, you slowly follow it, your legs shaky due to the nerves.
Seungcheol is awake. He is finally awake.
You hear lots of voices, especially Headservant Yang’s, as she scolds and cries loudly. With a lump lodged in your throat, you keep on walking until you spot the door to his bedchamber. You catch a glimpse of your husband sitting up, and for some reason unknown to you, you immediately hide behind a nearby wall.
You are too scared to see him. Too overwhelmed, too afraid.
You thought of this. You dreamed of the day he would wake and look at you, and now that it is here, you do not know what to do. It feels unreal.
You are angry at him. You are also grateful. Angry for getting hurt. Grateful for waking up.
A sob bursts out of your throat, and you start wailing, unable to hold back the tears any longer. With your palms clasped over your mouth, you cry so hard that it becomes hard to breathe. The sobs wrack your body, knocking the air out of your lungs and leaving behind only pain.
The pain of almost losing him. The pain of seeing him lie there almost lifeless, day after day.
A hand on your shoulder startles you, and you find Jihye standing next to you. Her eyes are misty as she wraps an arm around your heaving body and rubs your arms soothingly. “It is alright, my lady. Please do not cry. He is looking for you.”
Her words make you cry some more before you manage to wipe your tears and snot. It is pretty futile because they do not stop completely. With shaky legs, you move from your hiding spot and continue towards his chamber, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.
Seungcheol spots you immediately, his posture straightening as he sees you arriving. But you do not meet his eye.
You cannot bring yourself to. If you look at him, you will start crying once more, right in the middle of the yard, in front of all the servants.
Headservant Yang and others start moving away as they see you approaching, giving you privacy. You cross the porch, your eyes still trained on the wooden floor of his bedchamber, your hands slightly shaking.
Finally, you step inside and shut the door behind you. Then, your eyes slowly travel to his.
He is definitely paler and thinner than before, but you see life in his eyes. You see the spark and the shine that have always been present in them, and right at that moment, you are sure he will be alright.
Thank god.
He looks up at you, his eyes brimming with longing and guilt. His usual plump red lip shaded in a pale pink colour. His face littered with little cuts that are still healing, yet he has never looked more handsome.
And you have never been happier to see him.
You want to scream. You want to yell at him and tell him how much you love him, but you cannot speak. Tears and sobs threaten to overflow once more, so you stand there like a statue and keep staring at your husband, repeating in your head that he is alive and well.
Until your knees finally give out.
You kneel in front of him and wrap your arms around his neck, careful to avoid his left chest and leaning your weight more on the right. Breathing him in, you hold him as tightly as possible, wishing you could merge yourself into him, wishing you could lock him away and protect him for the rest of his life.
Your tears wet his bare shoulders, your fingers tightly gripping onto the muscles on his back, clutching him on for dear life. It feels as if you let him go— if your grip loosens ever so slightly, you will lose him forever.
It takes a long moment for you to realize how your body is shaking due to your sobs and tearful hiccups, only when your husband's warm hands wrap around you, patting your back like you are a small, wounded animal.
“It is okay, my dear. Everything is okay,” he soothes in the softest voice, and when you hear him, another violent sob slips past your throat while you cling to him and cry in the crook of his neck.
You want to stop, but the tears are endless, a mixture of pain and relief. Gingerly, Seungcheol pulls you away from him to take a look at your face, which is puffy and tear-stained. With his thumbs, he wipes your tears away, murmuring, “Hush, now. It pains me to see you cry like this.”
You want to reply, but the lump in your throat is still heavy, and you know if you try to utter something, only sobs will come out, so you remain silent, raking your eyes over his body before settling on the wound on his chest.
“I am alright, I promise.” He assures you once he sees your gaze. “I feel well-rested, in fact.”
You are glad to hear that.
Wiping the remaining tears and snot rather unceremoniously with your sleeve, you get up on your feet to leave the room, but he tugs on your wrist, pulling you back down and into his arms this time.
“Where are you going?”
“To get you some herbal tea.” You reply, your voice meek and scratchy. Your husband locks his arms around you. “Headservant Yang will do that. I need you to stay here. I have missed you.”
Your lower lip trembles, but you will yourself not to cry again. Instead, you whisper, “I have missed you as well. I have missed you so much, you have no idea, Seungcheol.”
He shifts, peering at your face with a surprised look. “You called me by my name.”
“I have been calling your name for the past week.” You murmur, staring at your lap.
He maneuvers your body with gentle, effortless hands so that he can see you fully. “You know, you look like the one who has been comatose for a week. What is this I am seeing? When was the last time you had a proper meal?” He frowns, his eyes trained on you like a hawk as he squints at your face.
You look away, murmuring, “I have been busy nursing a sick man.”
He scoffs. “Not busy enough to eat. You look like a ghost, my wife. I am genuinely worried about you.”
You do not meet his gaze. With an exasperated sigh, he gently tilts your face up by the chin. “Look at me.” He softly commands you. You do as you are told, finding his eyes set on you, those beautiful, mesmerizing eyes that you missed so deeply.
Your husband’s face inches closer to press a soft kiss on your forehead. It is not quick; he holds his lips pressed right in the middle of your forehead, slightly above your brow, like he is trying to leave an imprint. You close your eyes and lean closer, savouring the feel of his lips against your skin.
Oh, how you longed for this.
“I love you.”
You must have heard wrong. You stop breathing, your body going tense for a moment. Seungcheol leans back, one of his hands wrapped around your neck, his thumb stroking your cheek while the other cups the back of your head, angling your face just slightly upwards and in line with his gaze.
“I love you.” He repeats—his words slow, heavy, deliberate.
You feel faint. It is hard for you to find words, and while you continue gaping at him with parted lips and shining eyes, he continues, “I was scared I would not be able to say this to you. As I lay on the ground and saw you standing there, this was all I could think of. I was angry at myself for never telling you how much I love you.”
“Oh Seungcheol…” your lips tremble. You wrap your arms around his neck, making yourself at home by placing your head under his chin, feeling his hard muscles against your body.
“I love you, dear wife. I love you more than life itself. More than I could ever express.” You hug him tighter. “I love you, too. I love you so much, Seungcheol. You are my whole world.”
“I know.” He murmurs. “I knew the moment you came back towards me. Which you should not have done, by the way. You put yourself in danger.” He loosens his hold on you to catch a glimpse of your face, his gaze admonishing. “I am still mad at you for doing that, but you look miserable enough, so I will let you off.”
You only smile.
“Also, when were you going to tell me what an amazing archer you are? How come I did not know that?”
You look away sheepishly, biting your lip. “You never asked.”
He laughs, the sound sweet and throaty. His arms wrap around you in a tight, protective hold once again, and you close your eyes, savouring the rhythm of his heartbeat next to your ear. As you bask in his warmth, you announce, “You are not going back to the military. I am not letting you go.”
Detangling himself from you, your husband regards you with an amused look, like he cannot believe you. “Oh, really?”
“I am serious.” You huff with a frown. “You are not going back. You have fought enough battles for a lifetime. Now it is time for you to rest.”
“Hm. And what if His Majesty disapproves?” His tone is playful.
“I do not care. I already wrote him a letter, saying that once you woke up, you would not resume your duties.”
Amazed, your husband watches you, his eyes twinkling with pride. “I cannot believe you did that.” You ignore him. “Promise me. Promise me you will not go back to the military.”
He remains silent, watching you calmly, and you start getting anxious, expecting the worst. Just as you start thinking of different ways to force him to stay, he says, “I will not, I promise. I was not going to go any way. That was the first decision I made when I opened my eyes. I got another chance at life with you. I plan on using it very well.”
Your heart soars. You grin, a full-on smile sweeping over your face after a long time. Pressing a soft, chaste kiss on his lips, you whisper, “Can we go live by the sea now?” His eyes shine with love. “Yes, we can.”
You couldn't be happier. Your heart couldn't be fuller. It is pure delight when you think of a future with this man, away from all the noise and the troubles that have been plaguing your life until now.
He can be safe now. He can rest.
Unconsciously, your thumb traces the scar next to his eye, feeling the bumpy skin underneath your finger. The scar now looks like a tree branch that extends into even smaller branches containing little flowers.
You lean forward and press a kiss on it.
“I am just glad you will not get hurt anymore. You have already been through so much.” You whisper, your sad gaze trailing over all the marks on his skin, old and new, before settling on his left chest. You gingerly place your hand over the gauze, remembering how long and deep the gash was.
It will scar for sure. Probably the biggest scar on his body, and it will be because he was protecting you. A shaky breath parts from your lips as you are momentarily transported back in time; him lying motionless on the ground that was turning red. As if your husband can read your thoughts, he gently tilts your chin up and forces you to meet his eyes.
“My dear, I am alright. Look at me.”
“This will scar. You will be in much pain as it heals. Because of me.”
“Don't say that.” He holds you against his chest, his fingers wrapping tightly around your limbs. “You are the only one who loves my scars. Because of you, I now love them too. I would not have changed a single thing if I had the chance. You know why? Because every one of the scars in my body led me to you. And this one?” He places a hand over yours, which is resting on his chest.
“This one tied me to you forever. I earned you. I earned your forever through this. So I think this is the most beautiful.”
A lone tear strolls down your cheek. “Oh, Seungcheol,” you choke over a sob, tilting your face up to capture his lips in a kiss.
His arms engulf you completely, his lips taking over yours, his tongue moving inside your mouth like he has been starving for this.
It is breathless, passionate, and gentle at the same time, conveying all the feelings and emotions the two of you could never put into words.
It is beautiful, like the scars on his body, leaving behind a trace of love.
For a special epilogue, head over to my Patreon. Click here to see the preview!
A/N 2: First of all, I want to thank you for reading till the end. Next, I just want to say that this fic has been one of my dream projects. Is it the best? Maybe not but did I have the most fun writing it? Hell yes! It was originally supposed to be a bit longer but I cut some parts out, mainly because I was worried this app wouldn't let me post the entire thing easily. Sure enough, it said that there were too many blocks on my post, so I had to stitch together a lot of passages even though they were separate at first. So, I'm sorry if the flow gets weird in some places.
On a different note, I will also be posting this on AO3 once I have opened my account (I am still waiting for their invitation mail), so once I have made my account, I will link it here. Do support me over there! Finally, I just want to take a moment to thank you all for your support. I am really excited to hear from you guys about this fic, so please do send an ask!
That's it from me for now. For my next fic, I will be returning with something short and lighthearted. Stay happy and healthy, y'all! <33
You were at your best friend’s apartment, just like any other lazy Sunday. The soft sound of rain against the windows wrapped the room in its calm, and you were curled up with Wonwoo on the couch, both of your legs tangled under the blanket.
It was the kind of closeness you had already shared a hundred times before. But today, something in the air felt charged. It felt different and heavy with unspoken things. Your skin tingled with a strange anticipation and every brush of his arm or graze of his hoodie sleeve against your wrist sent goosebumps up your spine. You glanced over to look at your best friend. His glasses sat low on his nose, his hair still slightly damp from the drizzle earlier and he looked effortlessly beautiful, yet completely unaware of it. He was reading with brows slightly furrowed and jaw relaxed, but your eyes lingered on his mouth a moment too long.
“You gonna keep staring, or...?” he said with his low and teasing voice.
You jumped slightly, flustered. “I wasn’t.”
He didn’t look up. “You were,” he said, the corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.
“You wish,” you muttered, turning your gaze back to the rain. But your heart was racing now.
“It’s the rain,” you added, trying to sound casual. “It makes everything feel... weird.”
“Mm,” he hummed, pretending to read. “You always get soft when it rains.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got stuck behind your teeth as a distant roll of thunder rumbled.
“I had a dream about you,” Wonwoo said suddenly, his voice quiet but clear.
You blinked. “What kind of dream?”
He didn’t answer right away. He closed his book slowly and set it on the table without looking at you. “You kissed me,” he said finally. “Just kissed me. But it felt like I’d been waiting forever for it.”
“Was it... weird?” you asked, trying to sound light, but your voice cracked slightly.
“No,” he said, and this time he looked right at you. “It was the opposite. It felt like everything made sense, all at once. Like everything before had just been... waiting for that.”
You didn’t know what to say and the air between you stretched.
“You’ve been quiet,” he said softly. “I can’t tell if that’s a bad sign.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.
Wonwoo exhaled, his gaze flickering down to your lips before settling back on your eyes. “Because I was scared. I thought if I said it out loud, it would break whatever this is. And I didn’t want to lose you. But lately... it’s getting harder to act like I don’t notice how good it feels when your knee touches mine. Or how I keep making excuses to sit closer than I need to. How I keep catching myself looking at your mouth instead of your eyes.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
“I don’t just look at you like a friend anymore,” he went on, voice low and uneven now. “I look at you like someone I want to know every part of. Not just your favourite takeout or your coffee order. I want to know how your skin feels under my hands. What kind of sounds you make when someone’s kissing you slowly. I want—”
“Wonwoo-” you whispered, breath shaky.
He leaned in slightly, his eyes flicking down again, this time slower. “I want you. And I’ve been trying so hard to hide it. But it’s killing me not to touch you when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” you asked, barely breathing.
“Like you want me too,” he murmured.
You didn’t move.
Neither did he.
But you could feel the tension strung tight between you, so you closed the distance.
And kissed him.
It wasn’t careful, not really. It was years of tension unravelling all at once. His lips moved against yours slowly, like he was tasting something forbidden. His hands came to your waist, fingers flexing but not pulling, as if they were waiting for permission.
When you moved closer, you felt the quiet exhale he gave against your lips, relief maybe, or something even deeper. The kiss deepened gradually. Your hands twisted in his hoodie. He exhaled softly against your lips, and that small sound shifted something in you. When his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt to rest on your back, he paused, pressing your foreheads together.
“We don’t have to,” he whispered. “We can stop here.”
You shook your head, just barely. “Don’t want to stop. Not anymore.”
He gave you that soft, boyish smile that disarmerd you everytime. And when he kissed you again, it felt like everything was finally falling into place. His hands rested softly at your hips, thumbs tracing quiet circles over the fabric of your shirt before he pulled you into his lap. His lips parted for you easily, and you sank into him as his hands slid up your back, under your shirt, feeling you for the first time.
When your hips shifted in his lap, his breath caught in his throat. You felt the undeniable pressure of him beneath you, and something about the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world he had ever truly wanted, made your whole body ache with anticipation.
“Can I take this off?” he asked quietly, his fingers grazing the hem of your shirt.
You nodded, lifting your arms as he slowly tugged it over your head. He didn’t speak right away. He just looked at you for a long, quiet moment and then his hands rose gently to your face, cupping it softly.“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered it like he had known it all along and finally had the chance to say it out loud.
He leaned in, and instead of kissing your mouth right away, he pressed his lips to your cheek, then to your temple, then to the edge of your jaw. Each kiss was deliberate and patient. He was learning you this way now, after waiting for years. When his mouth reached your neck, he lingered there, simply breathing you in.
Your hands found their way into his hair, lightly tugging at it as his mouth drifted lower to your collarbone, where he kissed you again and again until you gasped softly, unable to hold the sound back.
He smiled against your skin. “That’s the sound I wanted to hear.”
You let your bra slip from your shoulders, and he paused, looking up at you with eyes full of love, asking not just for permission to touch you, but for permission to cherish you. When you nodded, his hands slid up your sides, fingertips brushing over your ribs before his thumbs grazed across your nipples, making you shiver beneath him. He kissed the space between your boobs, then moved lower, his mouth closing gently over one while his hand caressed the other, all of it slow and intentional, like he wanted to memorize how you responded to every touch.
There was no urgency in his movements, no rush. It wasn’t about lust, he was taking his time to learn your body and to discover your reactions
When he eased you back onto the couch, his hand stayed in yours. He knelt between your legs and started with the inside of your knee, trailing kisses up your thigh without rushing toward the obvious. His fingers smoothed over your hips like he was calming you, letting you know you were safe with him.
You breathed his name, soft and pleading. “Wonwoo…”
“I want to take care of you. I’ve thought about this. About you.”
He looked up at you as he slowly slid your shorts and underwear down together, his gaze never wavering, like he was falling in love all over again just by seeing you like this.
And then he kissed you there.
It wasn’t hurried or teasing. It was a soft, open-mouthed kiss that made your entire body tremble. He groaned, like just the taste of you undid him.
His tongue moved with purpose, gentle and slow, while his hands held your thighs steady. You arched toward him, your breath coming fast, your fingers gripping the edge of the blanket.
“Just like that,” you whispered.
Wonwoo looked up and smiled, flushed and breathless, his glasses fogged up, his hair already messy from your hands. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, then dipped back down, slower now, drawing circles with his tongue that made you gasp.
He treated you carefully. When he slid a single finger inside, he watched your reaction closely, adjusting to your every movement and sound.
“More?” he asked gently.
You nodded. “Yes.”
He added another finger, working in rhythm with his tongue, and your voice cracked from the intensity. Your hips rose, your body trembling as the pleasure built.
“That’s it, love. Let go. I’ve got you.”
You came with a soft cry, your body trembling as he held you through it, never letting go, kissing your thighs as you slowly came back to yourself. When he finally moved up to hold you again, your arms reached for him instinctively, needing him close.
“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.
You nodded, still catching your breath. “More than okay.”
When he moved back up to you, you pulled him back into your arms. His mouth found yours and your hand slid down in his sweatpants to wrap around him. He gasped into your mouth. “Your turn,” you whispered cheekily
You stroked him slowly, feeling him pulse in your hand, watching the way his breath stuttered and his body tensed as he pressed his forehead to yours. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how undone he looked already.
“God,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “That feels… too good.”
You kissed the corner of his mouth, your hand moving in slow, steady strokes. “Good.”
You let your thumb brush across the head of him, slick and warm, and his hips jerked slightly into your hand before he caught your wrist, stilling your movements with a gentle grip.
“If you keep doing that,” he said, voice low and rough, his lips ghosting over your cheek, “I’m not going to last.”
“Then don’t wait,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I want you. Now.”
His hand moved down your thigh, fingers spreading wide as they traced your skin like he was memorizing every inch. He lined himself up carefully, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pressed into you, the thick head of him parting you inch by inch.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
“I am,” you said, voice trembling.
He entered you with one long, slow push that made both of you gasp. You clung to him, your hands on his back, holding him close as he filled you completely. He stayed there for a moment, unmoving, forehead pressed to yours, and the only sounds between you were your shaky breaths and the quiet rhythm of rain against the windows.
“Okay?” he asked, his voice tight with restraint.
You nodded, reaching up to cup his jaw and pull him into a kiss. “Better than okay.”
When he started to move, he let you feel every part of him with each thrust. Your bodies fit together so perfectly that it felt almost unreal, like something you had only dreamed until now.
You moaned softly against his mouth, and he kissed you harder, deeper, his hands exploring your body like he still couldn’t believe you were real. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, the space between your breasts, and with every motion of his body, he gave more of himself, and with every kiss, he asked for more of you.
“You feel unreal,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion. “Like I’ve been dreaming this... and I just woke up inside it.”
You cupped his face, your smile trembling with emotion as tears you hadn’t expected filled your eyes.
“This is real,” you whispered.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and the pace between you grew more desperate. He kept whispering your name with every roll of his hips. When his rhythm faltered and your body began to tremble again, his breath was warm against your skin.
“Let go with me,” he whispered. “Please… I want to feel it.”
And you did.
Your second climax built slowly, pulling you apart until you gasped his name and held on tight. He followed soon after, whispering your name like it was the only thing keeping him grounded, his body shuddering as he released deep inside you.
He collapsed gently on top of you, arms around your waist, still holding you like he couldn’t stand to let go. You traced slow shapes on his back with your fingers, your bodies tangled together, your breathing slowly evening out.
After a long, quiet moment, he pulled back just enough to see your face.
“You okay?” he asked again, his voice low and full of care.
You nodded, your whole body still humming from everything he had given you. “Yeah. You?”
He nodded too, his eyes soft and searching. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”
You smiled and brushed a damp lock of hair from his forehead.
“I love you,” he said again, his voice clear and steady now.
You kissed him, your hand cupping his cheek. “I love you too.”
tags/warnings: smut with plot, domestic scenario, established relationship, multiple positions, unprotected sex, creampie, biting, pussy drunk Wonwoo - like pussy obsessed (feed this man some pussy for the love of god), size kink goes brrrr, sort of body worship (reader receiving), wonu is a simp, fluff if you squint, he is in looooveeeee and we are in love with him, he is a disaster in the kitchen – I mean he is a gamer, poor diet Wonwoo, mentions of junk food
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Not safe for work
commentary: Happy Wonu day <3 (in Korea is already midnight and I couldn't wait anymore lol)
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write something like this again.
Hope you like it!
(Inspo: Minnie – Blind Eyes Red, d4vid, Hyunjin – Always Love, Rihanna – Birthday Cake, TVB Marti. Questa è per le mie Wonu gals <3)
They spend most of their time on their console, poor hygiene, poor diet, which usually consists in junk food or microwaved meals, they fuck good and have a big dick –
Your Wonwoo checked almost all the boxes (thankfully), but the harsh truth confirmed also that he was a complete disaster in the kitchen. Well not completely, but he came very close if one could burn literal water. When you two got together, you knew what were you getting yourself into, and you were more happy to oblige to handle the cooking in your shared home since he did everything else. You two started off a bit rocky, as he needed his time to open up to you and finally be comfortable enough. After that it was pure bliss.
He is a man who yearns silently, with no pressure but he lets you know that he misses you a little more than yesterday, and whenever he is with you his love is never bombed and filled with dramatic (coffcoffKwonSoonyoungcoffcoffChoiSeungcheolcoffcoff) gestures, but is that kind of loving that seeps into you from every crevice of your being and keeps you warm and longing for more of it.
He loves to the point that cheesy is an understatement, and he does it naturally, not even thinking about it. Like that time when you were taking pictures together at the park, each with your own camera as he wanted to teach you some photography skills. He snapped a picture of you, saying that he needs one for his wallet and one for his lockscreen, because you look too pretty to not look at every spare second his eyes have.
You knew he was a gamer, and that allowed you to have some time for your hobbies too, and let's be honest, you absolutely adored how he would come check on you between matches on LoL and peck you on the lips, getting lost in your taste a bit too much so that Seungcheol had to call him on Discord to get him back on the game, because ever since that time that Wonwoo fucked your brains out with the mic of his headset still on, Seungcheol learned to instantly mute Wonwoo whenever he excused himself from the game.
Today was his day off after months of never ending schedules, and obviously he wanted to spend his time nowhere other than on his PC and at home. When you came back from work, groceries in one hand and purse in the other, he was in the studio (gamer cave as you called it).
“Love? I’m home!” You take off your shoes and drop the groceries in the kitchen, then stroll to his studio. When you pop your head in the room you see you boyfriend immersed in the game, leaned back in his gaming chair, looking all smug and honestly almost disrespectful by how he is essentially annihilating whoever is on the other side of the screen. When you come close you can hear Seungcheol cursing like a madman at your boyfriend. You let your hand slide down his arm in a soft caress, startling him slightly and he emits a surprised sound. He looks at you with soft eyes, matching his smile. “Hi baby, how was work?” he says as he shuts his mic and mutes the screaming Seungcheol (his last words were ‘DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE TO LEAVE THE GAME YOU HORNY BASTA-’ click). “We can talk about it at dinner, finish the run before Seungcheol comes out of your headset and kills us both for ruining his gaming session.” You say as you peck his lips and run to the door before Wonwoo pulls you in his lap and kisses you some more. He sighs in defeat when you escape him, but there’s a smile now adorning his lips then he returns to the game. “Hyung you really suck at this huh?” he smiles wider when he pours gasoline on the fire that is Seungcheol’s anger.
By the time Wonwoo emerges from his studio you have already started dinner and got some side dishes ready. As you are by the stove distracted by the music in the room and what you are cooking, Wonwoo uses this moment to look at you unbothered. He is leaning on the doorframe, a content expression on his face. He is following the sway of your hips, moving on the rhythm of the song and his ears perk at the soft hum of your voice. Before he can realize it, he is already picking his phone and snapping a picture, adding it in the album he has selected where he has all your pictures on rotation as his lockscreen. He looks at you some more, then slowly approaches you from behind. His big hands meet your waist first, pulling himself closer to your back. You are now wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole months ago, the collar loose around your neck giving him the perfect access to his favourite part of your skin.
He is now pressed flush against your back, head on the side of yours as he peeks at what you are making, hands still holding you close, his palms warm against your skin, thumbs brushing against you tenderly. “What are you making that smells this divine?” “Japchae and some bibimbap, the rice should be ready any second now.” You respond in a distracted tone, keeping your attention on the food you are preparing. Wonwoo is not the type to act needy or demanding anything from you, but there are times when he needs the extra attention, and he can get passive aggressive about it. He kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent that still faintly smells of your shampoo. He then moves to your temple, where he stops a little longer. “Love… don’t get me distracted.” He chuckles, that stupid little ‘tehehe’ sound he makes when he is acting cute when you catch him being naughty, but your warning doesn’t stop him and he is kissing your cheek next.
You give in and tilt your head so you can kiss his cheek too, and before you can retreat, he tilts his own head and locks you in a tender kiss. He travels from your mouth down your jaw and as he is about to start with open mouthed kisses on your neck, your warn him in a strained voice, “Jeon Wonwoo if you won’t let me finish dinner, I swear you are not allowed to enter this kitchen if not for washing dishes.” Your words have no bite in them as you betray yourself with a smile, and Wonwoo sports one of his own, then kisses you again on the lips. “Alright~” he says in his cutest voice, then another peck, “I’ll set the table”, another one, “and place the side dishes.” The last kiss lasts a heartbeat longer, as if he did not want to let go of your softness. You feel the loss of his warmth in the same way, almost regretting sending him to occupy himself with something different other than you.
Dinner goes by smoothly, you two talking about your respective days. Wonwoo has collected the dishes to wash them in the sink and you are sitting on the counter behind him, talking about something that your coworker did at work. He is listening and humming, occasionally saying a ‘No way’ and smiling softly the whole time. He loves how you fill his days, the silence he once cherished and guarded now being disrupted by your presence could have been the best thing that happened to him. He would not trade this for anything else.
Once he is finished, he simply dries his hands and turns to face you leaning on the sink behind him. He is looking at you, always with that content little smile of his, he could listen to you talking for the rest of his life. His gaze stops on your lips, watching as they move when you speak, tongue peeking when you articulate the words. He inhales briefly to steady himself, but his own eyes betray him, when his gaze moves slowly, almost reluctantly, down your neck. He loves it so much, burying his face in it when he is tired, kissing it when he wants you to feel warm, nibbling when he is deep in you at night and whispers words of love and pure lust in your skin. His eyes catch on the collar of his t-shirt, loosely hanging around the base of your neck. It’s loose enough for your collarbones to peek out, making his mouth salivate and hands tighten on the edge of the sink.
“-nu? Nonu?” Your voice calls him back to reality. “Are you alright love? You spaced out for a second.” You say with a chuckle. Wonwoo says nothing, instead he pushes himself from the sink and comes closer to you, placing his hands on each side of your thighs and leans in your face. “I got distracted looking at my beautiful girlfriend.” His eyes are already staring at your lips, but he manages to meet your gaze, which is growing heavier and hungrier thanks to his closeness. “God you are so cheesy.” You say rolling your eyes but unable to fight the smile on your lips. He smiles at your reaction, biting his lip to prevent it to spread wider, he looks at you, searching for your eyes as you avoid his gaze, his comment making you shy. “Don’t hide, show me those pretty eyes~” he says as he is following your face with his own. “Oh my god stop it” you say between giggles, making his heart skip a beat when he hears you. He is now smiling like an idiot, and when you feel his fingers threatening to tickle your sides you grab at his wrists and look at him with wide eyes and a nervous smile. “Don’t you dare to tickle me, you menace!” he laughs under his breath and says, “There they are, my favourite pair of eyes, my maze to get lost into.” His gaze is soft and so full of love it almost makes you gasp, and you feel your eyebrows frown in an awed expression after hearing him. “Oh my – you are insufferable.” You say with a groan, hiding your face behind your hands, blushing up to your ears.
He chuckles low, happy with your reaction and for making you shy. He then takes one of your hands from your face, turns it and places a kiss in your palm. You part your lips in a gasp, but no sound comes out, the feeling of his lips in your palm almost overwhelming, the gesture incredibly intimate. Then another one, still in your palm, as if saying ‘Here’s me, my love, all for you to dispose however you want.’ He looks up briefly up to meet your eyes, and when he sees that tension behind them at what will be coming next, he doesn’t restrain himself anymore, wanting to show you just how much he missed you today. His lips kiss your wrist and trail up your arm, one kiss after the other, slowly, teasingly. He earns a soft exhale at each peck that meets your skin. When he reaches your shoulder, you are already tilting your neck for him.
“Good girl.” He whispers in your skin before tasting his most treasured flavour. You sigh when you feel his lips on you, also because he is using the pet name he saves up only when you let him give into his desires. Wonwoo is growing intoxicated from the taste of your skin and its smell, his mouth is now behind your ear and he breaths a bit shakier and heavier than before. His hands have travelled one on your waist and the other is behind your upper back, between your shoulder blades, keeping you upwards. He feels goosebumps erupt under his lips and fingers, and smirks detaching himself to look at you. You are now blushing a deep shade of red on your cheeks and ears, breathing softly but not at ease. Your eyes are driving him mad, pupils dilated and heavy eyelids, screaming in lust and want.
You two liked to play this game, riling each other up and dancing on that thin thread of composure before it snaps under your feet and you fall, giving into your desire. He drags you by your hips to the edge of the counter and flush against him, his pelvis meeting yours and making him groan and you whimper feeling his hardness pushing into your clothed cunt. He liked to test that thread more than you, so he starts to slowly drag his hips against yours, breathing in your face and mouth once it parts when he grinds his head against your clit. You sneak your hand behind his head, dipping your fingers in his soft locks, brushing his scalp with your nails lightly. The feeling sends a shiver down his spine and makes him close his eyes and hum in pleasure. He loves feeling your hands on him, igniting sparks wherever you touch him. Your other hand slides up his torso, feeling up his chest and the pecs adorning it, plump and firm, muscles tensing slightly underneath tour caresses.
You let go of his hair, letting him breath and blink a few times to regain focus in his eyes, but that lasts short when his senses take in the information of your hands on him, and you proudly earn a low groan from him, making you smirk. Both of your hands are now on his broad shoulders, and you treat yourself to some groping, down to his biceps, then up to his shoulders again, dipping another time to his pecs and squeezing them lightly. That makes him frown with a half amused and half uncomfortable face, still not used to you groping his pecs, no matter how many times you like to do it. When he is about to move your hands from his pecs, you slide them lower down his abs, and his breath hitches again, your hands close to his erection. He has his eyes fixated on your hands, breathing heavily through his nose.
“Babe?” you call for him in a small voice and his head jolts upwards, eyes pitch black and tinted with desire. When his eyes lock with yours, his gaze shifts to the movement of your tongue, seductively licking your lips and wetting them for him to taste. “Oh for fuck’s sake-“ he curses under his breath and meets your lips in a heated kiss, head tilted to the side, lips taking your own between them, teeth lightly tugging at your bottom lip. You moan for him and he slips his tongue inside your mouth, licking at your own, under it and tickling the roof of your mouth. His hands have moved one behind your nape, burying in your hair and the other one is gripping at a handful of your ass. He tugs at your hair, tilting your head back and you gasp, he groans low in your mouth and moves from it to trace open mouthed kisses down your throat, nipping at your pulse points and lightly biting in the crook of your neck.
Hi hand is firmly holding your head in place when he resurfaces from your neck to look at you again. He is still towering over you even if you are seated on the counter, his frame engulfing your own. You whimper at the sight, realizing just how big your boyfriend actually is, the strength he has and how he can easily handle you to his liking. Wonwoo may have sensed a change in your gaze, submission draping over your eyes, and it makes his pulse quicken and blood run faster in his veins. He twitches in his pants, remembering that he was as hard as a rock right now, probably with precum seeping through his underwear and staining his pants. He groans again, louder now, when he grinds on your thigh to relieve himself with some friction. You whine at the feeling, as you can’t look at what he is doing but only feel it, courtesy of his hand holding your head in place. He is looking straight into your eyes, mouth parted and brows knitted together, visible struggle on his face as he is restraining himself. He is panting in your face, lips hovering over yours.
“Tell me how much you want it. How much you want me to fuck you right now, here on the counter of our kitchen, right where you were making dinner for us.” He says between heavy breaths, “I could take you here, right now, bend you over and take you from behind. I bet you are so soaked you won’t even need me to prep you.” He groans at the thought of your wet pussy, making himself twitch in his pants again. “So ready and eager to take me in deep, aren’t you love? All for me…” he kisses your neck and behind your ear, grinding against your thigh again and now moaning in your ear. “You feel so fucking good baby, I’m not even inside you and I want to cum already.” He chuckles breathlessly against your cheek, nuzzling it with his nose as he moans again when he trusts.
You are feeling like fire has erupted under your skin, squirming and shivering under him, the damp feeling of your panties stuck to your dripping core growing more uncomfortable with each breath you take. You have positively reached the point where you can’t take it anymore and you whine his name, pleading at him. “Babe, love please, please- Wonwoo please, just fuck me already babe, please!” he is looking at you bewildered, like he was hearing your voice again for the first time, after all, ever since he kissed you on the counter your words have been reduced to mere breathless whimpers and whines. He blinks his big brown eyes a few times to regain himself and then turns to you with a shuddering breath, forcing some confidence in him to cover the need in his voice. “My baby deserves something better than cold marble, don’t you baby?”
With that he grabs you under your knees and wraps your legs around his waist and carries you to your shared bedroom, kissing you on the way and letting you feel his hardness on your ass. Inside, he lays you on the mattress and keeps kissing you when his hands slide under your (his) t-shirt, feeling your warm and soft skin under his fingers, kneading the flesh in his hands. He inhales your scent with his face buried between your breasts, placing open mouthed kisses and biting into the softness of your tits, earning a whimper with each nip. You are left in your underwear, he is still wearing his sweats, and of course, his glasses. He is looking down at your flushed figure and groans, “Damn, you are beautiful, so beautiful..” his hand is now parting your thighs, dipping himself lower, his head between as he presses kisses in your thighs and biting in the flesh, savouring the taste, the plush of your thighs filling his mouth. He is leaving hickeys on his path, trailing from your neck down your chest and now decorating your thighs too. He is sliding your panties down your legs, kissing your knees and calves. When his eyes meet your wet folds, he groans low, sounding almost as if he whined at the sight.
He is dipping his head seconds after, glancing at your face one last time before devouring you. He licks with his tongue flat against your folds, slowly. He licks a few more long stipes before kissing your clit and sucking at it gently, increasing the suction progressively. He is humming and groaning when he takes a breath, obscene sounds coming from between your legs as he is making out with your folds, pleasuring himself by just your taste. He hooks his arms around your thighs when he dips deeper, shoving his face in your pussy eagerly. His glassed are sitting crooked on his face, poking at your thighs when he moves his face against your folds. His long fingers join his mouth to pleasure you, pumping at the same pace of his sucking and licking, curling and massaging you from the inside. It’s not long before you feel your orgasm approach, legs spasming and clit twitching, clenching rhythmically around his fingers as he continues to lick into you. When your orgasm hits you, shaking your entire body, you don’t realise that your legs have tightened around his head, squishing his face between your thighs.
When you come down from your high and look at him, he is breathless and a hundred times hornier than before. Then you notice his glasses, the Chrome Hearts pair, completely bent the wrong way, one stem broken. You bring a hand to your mouth and gasp in disbelief realizing what you did when you tightened your thighs around him. “Baby I’m sorry, your glasses, oh no..” the words die in your mouth when you see him throw them on the nightstand, then rising from the bed and take down his remaining clothes, now standing fully naked. His cock leaking and impossibly hard. He climbs on the bed, placing one of his palms behind one of your thighs ad the other guides his cock in front of your hole, then he sinks slowly in you, savouring every inch of it. He groans loud once he bottoms in you, leaving you huffing soft gasps and whining.
He places your legs on his shoulders and he wraps an arm around them as the other finds it’s place on your cheek, stroking it softly before he drags his hips from you, only to thrust them back against you. He sets a steady pace, a few moans escaping him between grunts. His free hand is now on your jaw, thumb in your mouth and pressing your tongue down. “You look so fucking good like this, fuck baby, you feel so good, so warm and wet. All for me, for m-e hnngah yes fuck yes baby yes...” he’s trying hard at talking to you , but the feeling of you clenching him and milking him with every drag is leaving him breathless. He has you now bent in half, you knees close to your chest as he fucks into you harder, chasing his pleasure and providing for yours. Sweat dripping from his nose on your cheek, his mouth parted and huffing grunts and moaning freely.
“God you are perfect, perfect for me, hhng oh fuck yes yes oh god, o-only for me.” You have your brain slowed down by the pleasure he is making you feel, not catching up with his movements and words, focused on his face, his eyes closed and brows knitted together, mouth parted as he breaths hard, his sounds fogging your mind even more. You are whining and moaning under him, messing up his thoughts and throwing any piece of reason out of the window. Before you know it, he pulls out of you as you whine in protest, then turns you on your stomach, throwing you around and manhandling you like you weight nothing. You are now with your face planted in the mattress, ass up in the air with you legs parted, knees wide. Your folds pulsating in anticipation on full display for him, and dangerously close to dripping on the already ruined sheets under you. Wonwoo keeps staring at you pussy until he sees a bead of your arousal roll down your pussy towards your clit and he is fucking salivating at the sight, like a dog in front of his favourite meal after being starved for days.
He dips his face in your core, making you moan loud when you feel his tongue lick up the drop of slick from your clit and up until he pushes his tongue inside you, humming a moan in you. He is starting to eat you out again like before, fingers rubbing in circles on your clit. He has to stop because you are whining louder and your legs barely hold you up, so he bites a few times into your ass, never getting enough of your meat under his teeth. He lifts himself on his knees and lines himself once again with your entrance. This time he’s less gentle with you, he plunges into you with raw need, thrusting into you with less care and more to chase his release, dragging you along. His hands are gripping on your hips and pulling you against his own, slamming deeper in you.
He’s not holding back, neither his sounds or his movements. You feel all his need in his movements, how desperately clings onto you to ease that knot and finally let go of the tension he has been building ever since you came back home to him. He’s loosing himself in you, his breathing heavier. He lets himself push down on you with his weight, pressing you further in the mattress until he is brushing your nape with his nose and is biting into your shoulders and behind you neck. “You are made for me, ooh fuckfuck fuuuuck, for m-me, only me,” he is saying horny nonsense in your skin, “m-mine, ah haa ah-ah shit, you are mine, mine, min-e hnng” he groans deep kissing your shoulder blades as he fucks you desperately, hips loosing rhythm gradually, his climax approaching “My girl, my baby, my fucking pretty girl, taking me so so good, fuck baby fuck!”
You are almost unresponsive under him, completely fucked out, until he reaches under you and he finds your overstimulated clit, jolting you back to life. “W-wonwoo, no- nonono wait- please babe no- oh god baby, baby I-I can’t oh god ahnn ah ah W- Won-wo pl-ease” He is loosing his mind when he hears you, “You c-can do it love, one, just one more t-time, cum for me, with me please baby, I need to feel you cum with my cock in you, please baby give it to me, fucking hell yes-” his words make you lose hold of what was left of your composure and consciousness as you feel yourself black out for a second when you finally cum around him. “Yes, yes, yes just like that fuck yes! Oh fucking hell yes-” Wonwoo groans out a guttural moan as keeps fucking into you through your and his orgasm, until you are milking him dry of every drop. He collapses spent on top of you, breathing heavily with his head spinning after what could’ve been one of his most intense orgasms of his life.
He pulls you with him to the side, dick still inside of you. He starts kissing your shoulders and all the hickeys and bite marks he left on your back. “I love you, I love so much.” He admits between kisses. You reach for his nape and stroke him in a tender gesture, still not able to articulate words. He kisses your palm again, like he did in the kitchen, pressing his lips in it and sighing after, almost in a whine. You turn in his arms after he softens enough to slip out of you, and curl unto his embrace as he pulls you tight into him. “I love you too Nonu..so much…” you say with your voice small and sleepy. You manage cups his face and bring him down to you for a soft kiss. He sighs and melts in your tender touch.
You part almost breathless, his eyes are glazed again, unfocused. "You got pretty wild tonight babe," You chuckle under your breath, "what has gotten into you?" You peck his lips again. He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "I don't know, I admit I was feeling needy, you were gone all day, but you breaking my glasses with your thighs was the sexiest thing ever and I just lost it." You groan frustrated, "Oh my god the glasses, those were your favourite pair too!" He chuckles as he kisses your forehead, "I can get a new pair whenever babe. Also, I think I really have a thing for you in the kitchen, I almost got a boner when you were making dinner." "Perv" you laugh swatting his chest. "But can you blame me? Wearing my clothes, dancing and singing like an angel-" "You sing like an angel, I am like a chicken getting strangled!" You laugh. "-Still an angel, looking like a fucking snack. I need to fuck you on the counter next." "Didn't I deserve more than cold marble?" You mock him mentioning his words, and his cheeks grow pink as he grins. "Of course you do baby, but imagine me bending you over the counter," his voice is now whispering in your ear, "your body warm on the marble as I fuck you hard from behind, just as you like it..." his hands are roaming on your body, his dick twitching weakly back to life. "Hmmh temping," you lick his lips leaving as his mouth searches for a kiss, "but if we were to do that now I know that I wouldn't be going to work tomorrow." You say knowing that you are going to be 100% sore after tonight.
He smiles wide and proud, then captures your lips in a wet and open mouthed kiss. "How about you let me eat you out some more, then I'll draw a bath and massage where I was too rough?" He says between kisses. You hum happily, "You are spoiling me Jeon Wonwoo..." "You spoil me everyday by cooking for me and loving me babe, it's the bare minimum that I can do for you." He kisses you again to prevent you from protesting. He makes you cum two more times befor he lets you relieve him with your mouth in the bath.
Wonwoo is bending you on the counter the morning after during breakfast preparations, and you definitely have to call in sick for work.
🔮 preview. Wonwoo is even more gorgeous than you’d ever imagined the anonymous No Face being, and this time, when you close your eyes to listen to the cam boy moan, you imagine your history partner above you, his hand down your pants as he rubs you closer and closer to the edge.
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, mutual masterbation, mention of cam shows/watching cam shows, extreme dirty talk, alter ago dom cam boy Wonwoo, pussy eating oral, multiple reader orgasms, overstimulation, praise, encouragement, multiple sex scenes, fingering, body/breast worship, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.6k
🍭 aus. Svt cam boy au, frat au, university au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. This is part 1 of a 3 part cam boy svt au. Each story can be read as a stand alone, but exists within the same universe :) Wonwoo is April, Seungcheol is May, and Mingyu will be in June. As soon as all 3 are up, a masterlist will be created, which will then be linked here.
Prologue:
You never thought you’d be the type of girl to enjoy watching men get off through a computer. But then someone had recommended a cam boy to you, and one video had hooked you unlike anything else.
Being in university isn’t easy. It’s stress on stress on more stress and then a little bit extra stress just to round things out- and sometimes, a girl just has to get her rocks off without worries.
To you, cam boy No Face is the perfect distraction.
This faceless man, who usually films from the shoulders down. There’s something so specific and endearing about him. His pretty veiny hands, forearms showed off by black compression shirts with the sleeves rolled up-
His sounds are also like heaven, and sometimes you close your eyes and just listen to him, imagining he’s the one getting you off.
People talk about the dangers of porn, but fuck it, being a tad addicted to No Face is your own kind of dark chocolate and red wine, and no one is going to make you feel bad about needing an outlet for your pent up sexual energy.
He’s a gamer too, a faceless one the likes of Corpse Husband and Dream (before the face reveal of course), and you love the fact that he’s multidimensional.
When you’re studying, his gaming streams are in the background, and when you’re done studying and ready to reward yourself, it’s straight to his OnlyFans.
Recently, he’s taken to wearing a neon blue accented purge face mask, and you love the way his dark curls obscure around the plastic.
He’s a handsome man, you can just feel it in your bones, and you can feel your orgasm roll through every inch of your entire body every time you cum with the help of No Face.
One:
History classes can be a bit of a bore at times, and as someone of a recluse, you don’t get the joy of friendly chats with other girlies. No, history is your solitary work load, which is why you’re dreading the group project that’s being set up today.
The teacher gives students the benefit of choosing their own partners. This isn’t high school, and your professor knows most people already have connections that work well for this sort of thing… most people.
You look around as people pair up, and you feel like there’s a frog in your throat. You don’t have it within you to make that leap, to ask someone to be your partner-
Which is when you notice the other antisocial person who sits at the back of the class. He’s handsome, with an angular bone structure. You’ve never once seen him smile, and that mirrored recluse nature throws you off a bit.
To make matters worse, he has dark curly hair, just like your No Face, and everytime you look at him, your mind conjures up whispered words of encouragement to throw you over the edge, and your panties get wet in history, which is a very inopportune time to be getting horny if you’re honest with yourself.
His eyes meet yours, and you immediately look away, but you can sense him standing up to talk to you.
“Do you have a partner?” he asks.
“Uh… not really.”
“Me neither.”
There’s an xawkward silence for a moment, and then you release a sigh, looking up at him. “So… should we do the project together.”
“Guess that makes sense.” He nods.
You tell him your name, and he introduces himself as Jeon Wonwoo. You exchange details and as he speaks, there’s something even more familiar about him, but you brush it off.
“So… when are you free?” Wonwoo asks, pulling you out of your daze.
“I could do the library after my last class ends, let’s say four oclock?”
“I’ll see you there.”
Two:
Wonwoo is easy enough to work with. He’s not very opinionated, and he has let you choose what topic you wanted to work on for your project. Now, the two of you are getting preliminary readings out of the way, looking into the online research that would provide the backbone of your argument for the essay portion.
You find yourself looking at him very frequently, after all, he’s a striking man, and you’re a horny girl who has been so busy doing university courses that you haven’t had the time to get laid in forever.
Your gaze dips, and you stare at his hands as he toys with his pencil. It must be some sort of anxiety calming repetitive behaviour, the way he flicks it, traces his thumb and pointer down the wood, then flicks it again.
As you’re looking at him, you notice the details of his fingers.
Although No Face’s cock is significantly - significantly - bigger than this tiny pencil, the phalic shape is the same. You’ve watched so many No Face videos, and Wonwoo’s fingers are undeniably the same as your favourite cam boy’s.
You feel like you’ve choked on air, and you look up at Wonwoo, imagining him with that neon blue purge mask.
He’s got the dark hair, the curls- he’s even wearing a black compression shirt today.
“Holy shit,” you whisper, drawing his attention immediately.
“Hmm?”
“Nothing, fuck, uh-” You look away, feeling your skin heat with embarrassment. “It’s just hot in here.”
Wonwoo simply gazes at you, and you find yourself standing up.
“I’m just going to pop outside for some air,” you tell him, not even waiting for a response as you grab your phone and dart away.
It’s only once you’re under the blue sky, feeling the cool air against your skin, that you’re able to take a moment.
You’re in a group project with your favourite gamer boy OnlyFans model, and you’re going to have to pretend as if you haven’t cum to his videos countless times.
If this is how you’re going to react every time he’s around - skin heating, heart racing, hands getting clammy - well, you’re in deep shit.
Three:
“No, I swear to God, Tina, my history project partner is No Face!”
Your friend is silent for a moment, simply watching you. “But like… how sure?”
“Tina!” You narrow your eyes at her with exasperation. “You know I watch him religiously!”
Tina nods. “I mean… there are rumours that some of the Sigma Veta Tau frat guys are into the whole cam thing, some of the sororities too.”
“Rumours?”
“Nothing confirmed, obviously, if any of them are in on that whole OnlyFans world, they’re smart enough to not show their faces.” Tina releases a sigh. “There’s a frat party tomorrow at SVT actually, maybe… we should go and I can see Wonwoo for myself.”
“Okay, but! Tina, I’m calling dibs.”
“You can’t call dibs! I showed him to you!” Tina argues.
“This isn’t time for girl code or anything else, I know you watch multiple streamers- No Face is the only one I watch, no one else has ever interested me. And I’m the one who made the connection! Tina, for real. Please.”
She releases a deep groan. “Fuck it. Fine. I guess. But if he hits on me, I’m going for it.”
“I guess you’re wearing a full sweater and showing no skin at the party tomorrow then.”
Four:
Wonwoo’s shocked to see you at his frat for a party. From being in classes with you for the first part of term, he’s pegged you as a shy and quiet type, much like himself. All month, he’s never seen you speak to anyone. You show up, take your seat at the very back of the room, and don’t open your mouth for anything.
Luckily for Wonwoo, he’s into the shy and quiet type. While his best friends are loud and boisterous, he could never see himself with a party girl, which is why he doesn’t have much of a social battery for being at his frat parties for longer than absolutely necessary.
Mingyu - the aforementioned loud and boisterous best friend - is next to Wonwoo, and Wonwoo can feel his gaze.
“Are you checking out that girl?” Mingyu asks.
“I have a class project with her,” Wonwoo responds casually, sipping his beer.
“She’s cute.”
Wonwoo simply shrugs, not wanting to divulge too deeply into his interest of you just yet. He’s a careful type, and with his scandalous online alter ego, he has to be.
“You should go get her a drink,” Mingyu continues.
“She’ll be fine.”
“If you don’t get her one, I will.”
Now Wonwoo turns to look at his friend, and the challenging gaze he receives in return makes him sigh. “Fine.”
“That’s my boy!” Mingyu grins, clapping Wonwoo on the back.
Despite Wonwoo’s confident persona online, he doesn’t have much experience with women. He’d gotten into the gaming scene first, learned how to be social and how to talk to followers of all types. Somehow that had translated to making an OnlyFans.
Choi Seungcheol, frat president, had seen his follower number on Twitch, and had suggested the creation of OnlyFans. Sex sells, and the business major had run the numbers. Cheol had broken down that if even one percent of Wonwoo’s following made the transfer to OnlyFans, Wonwoo could be making serious bank every month.
Both men were shocked to find a whopping five percent of Wonwoo’s followers had initially made the move with him to OnlyFans, and since then, that number has only grown.
Wonwoo tries to channel that confidence as he approaches you, and he kind of likes the way you jump when he gently touches your elbow to gain your attention.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” you respond, eyes wide. You look like a frozen deer, caught in headlights, and Wonwoo’s not sure if he wants to swerve, or hit this whole thing with full force.
“Want a drink?”
You nod, and Wonwoo leads you to the kitchen, where he finds you a beer.
“I’ve never seen you at one of these things,” he notes, stepping closer to you so you can hear each other over the loud music.
“I’ve never been to one,” you admit.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Wonwoo asks next, although, he suspects he already knows the answer.
“Uh… it’s loud.”
“Do you want to move somewhere quieter?”
He notes the way you swallow thickly, the way your pupils blow- but you nod, and Wonwoo once again grabs your arm to gently lead you to a different destination in the house.
His room is on the third floor, and he’s one of the lucky few that doesn’t have a roommate. The sound dies down significantly as soon as the door is shut behind the both of you, and Wonwoo welcomes the reprieve.
“I like your set up,” you tell him, looking around at all the neon blue and the PC set up.
“Yeah, I’m a bit of a gaming fan.”
“I can see that.” You’re quiet for a moment, and then you ask, “What are your favourite games to play?”
“Call of Duty is fun, League of Legends, Fortnite, all the usual ones,” he responds, moving toward his bed, where he takes a seat.
“Ah, right.” You nod, taking a sip of your beer.
“Do you game?”
“I watch gamers more than I play, you know, something to have on in the background while I study.” Your eyes meet, and you quickly look away.
There’s something in your body language that is throwing Wonwoo off, and the fact that you’ve just mentioned you watch streamers is a bit of an indicator that things might not be all that they seem with you.
Could you know who he is?
Was bringing you up here a mistake?
If you’ve ever seen one of his Twitch streams, will you be able to make the connection between him and the room?
It’s not like his streams show a lot of the room, but they show enough- and neon blue is a bit of a signature colour of his.
Neither of you say anything, and then you take a quick breath. “Anyways, I’m here with my friend Tina, and she’s probably wondering where I am-”
“You should get back to it then,” Wonwoo tells you.
“Yeah. But uh… we’re still on for our library study thing on Monday, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Five:
When No Face puts up a new video on his OnlyFans, you take the opportunity to get a better look at his bedroom.
Two seconds into the video you’re convinced that your quiet history partner is, in fact, the notorious faceless gamer turned cam boy, and it makes your stomach turn into knots.
Is it bad to keep watching this, knowing what you now know?
Is it… disrespectful to Wonwoo to be watching him? To have your hand slowly snaking into your pants as your pussy gets wetter by the second?
Do you have any chance with him?
Is this whole thing a dream?
You’ve been obsessed with one gamer/cam boy in your life, and suddenly he’s your history partner?
You thank whatever God is out there for this coincidental and miraculous turn of events, and you let out a breath as you begin to toy with your clit, relaxing against your pillows.
No Face has such a pretty cock. It’s the perfect size, and it looks even better with his long, slender fingers wrapped around it.
You listen to his quiet moans, and they urge you to echo them as you masturbate in your room.
Wonwoo’s only ever filmed himself. He’s a strictly solo man… there’s a possibility you have a chance with him romantically - or maybe even just sexually. If he gives you any chance at all, you’ll take it, everything else be damned.
Wonwoo is even more gorgeous than you’d ever imagined the anonymous No Face being, and this time, when you close your eyes to listen to the cam boy moan, you imagine your history partner above you, his hand down your pants as he rubs you closer and closer to the edge.
Six:
You need at least one citation from a physical book for your report, so today, you and Wonwoo are perusing amongst the shelves, searching for a few titles you have identified for possible quotes.
Your heart is racing just from being near Wonwoo, and you sense his gaze more often than not.
“You okay?” Wonwoo asks.
“Hmm?”
“You’re quiet today.”
“I’m always quiet,” you retort… quietly.
Wonwoo releases a chuckle, and you think it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him smile. The sight of his pretty pearly whites, the sharp canines, the way his eyes crinkle- it has your stomach erupting with butterflies.
“More quiet than usual,” Wonwoo corrects himself.
“I think you’re more talkative than usual,” you point out.
“Maybe.”
You take a breath, wondering if you should tell him that you know who he is.
If you tell him, it’s an admission that you’ve seen his Twitch or his OnlyFans- and you wonder if that will make him uncomfortable.
The two of you are quiet for another couple of minutes, but finally, you can’t take it anymore.
“I’m just going to say it,” you blurt out, drawing his eyes. “I know who you are.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re No Face, aren’t you?”
Wonwoo is quiet.
A groan escapes you. “Fuck, this whole thing is so uncomfortable, I shouldn’t have said anything, because now it’s going to make you uncomfortable-”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” he interjects.
“You’re not?”
Wonwoo shakes his head. “Just wondering which platform you’ve watched me on.”
Your heart lurches violently in your chest, and your throat all but closes up again. You choke a little on your response. “I, uh- I-”
“I’m guessing both,” Wonwoo concludes.
You’re gaze moves down the floor immediately, that familiar heat blooming through your skin, a sign of the embarrassment that surges through you.
“It’s kind of hot that you’ve watched me before,” Wonwoo sighs. “How could you tell it was me?”
“Your hands,” you say meekly.
“My hands?” You can hear the shock in his voice. “Wow, you must watch me a lot.”
“I do,” another half whimpered response, an embarrassed admittance of your cam boy loving ways.
“Don’t be shy about it,” Wonwoo tells you, and he steps closer. You instinctively move back, only for your shoulders to bump into the shelves behind you. It’s interesting how suddenly your history partner has changed from shy boy Wonwoo, to confident cam boy No Face, and you can feel your core getting wetter with each tension fueled moment. “I appreciate you being transparent with me.”
You finally look up at him, and you catch Wonwoo’s gaze dip to your lips.
Before you can even register what’s happening, Wonwoo is leaning in, and your body reacts on it’s own accord.
Your arms throw themselves around the back of his neck, and you press your lips to his. Your chests meet as Wonwoo wraps you in his embrace, his mouth hot as it moves on your own. He pushes you back against the shelves and you can’t even find it within yourself to care that you’re making out with him in a library.
There’s no shame as you make out with Wonwoo, accepting his tongue into your mouth with a delighted groan, there’s only intense pleasure, and an ecstasy like feeling of absolute elatedness that you’ve never experienced in your whole life.
Then- a sound in the periphery of your surroundings makes you jump, and you pull away from Wonwoo, looking around wildly.
“Shit,” you whisper, tearing yourself out of his embrace. “This was- uh, that was- um… I have to go!”
You find yourself running away, and you’re not even sure why. All you know is that you’re completely overwhelmed, and once again, being in the presence of the notorious No Face has you needing air like a fish out of water needs H2O.
Seven:
You shouldn’t be shocked when Wonwoo sits next to you in history class. He doesn’t say anything, but half way through the seminar, his hand moves to your knee.
Your heart is racing in your chest, a mix of anxiety and excitement. He hasn’t reached out to you since you ran away from him in the library, and you have no idea where you stand with him, so instead, you just stare at his hand.
There’s this general sense that you both deeply want each other, and it distracts you all the way until class is over.
As students stand up around you, hurrying to their next engagements, you turn to look at Wonwoo.
“What are we doing?”
“A project.”
“You know what I mean,” you sigh.
“We’re doing whatever you want.”
“Okay,” you take a breath. “But I’m shy, I don’t normally do hookups, and-”
“I don’t do hookups either.”
“You don’t?”
“There’s a reason I do solos,” Wonwoo points out.
“I guess that’s true.”
“Does the whole No Face thing bug you?” he enquires.
“Not really,” you admit. “I mean, in this day and age, most people have done it. Not me, but, you know, most people.”
Wonwoo lets out a chuckle, then it dies down. “So… do you want to be there for my next stream? You know, sitting behind the camera, watching?”
You swear it’s as if there’s a flood in your panties, and your heart leaps like a professional olympic high jumper.
“Yes,” you squeak.
Wonwoo smiles broadly. “This will be fun.”
Eight:
You’re sitting on Wonwoo’s bed, body tense with anticipation.
His camera is set up, and it’s the only thing between the two of you as he lounges in his gaming chair.
The neon blue purge mask is obscuring his features, but you can feel his eyes on you. He’s hit the record button, and you’re committed to being a silent watcher as Wonwoo visibly slips into his No Face alter ego.
There’s something about the way his shoulders drop, the way he tilts his head back, exposing his pretty throat as he gets comfortable in the chair.
Wonwoo’s hand drops down to the front of his pants, and he palms himself gently, releasing a sigh.
“Feels good,” he muses, voice deeper than it usually is in every day life. “Wish it was your hands touching me though.”
Your body tingles with the realization he’s talking to you. Sure, he dirty talks for his shows all the time, but today, it’s different.
Today, No Face is literally talking directly to you, but all his words will be eaten up by his subscribers too. It’s your very own personal cam show, and no one else ever has to know.
“Are you going to get started too, baby?” Wonwoo asks. “I can’t be the only one getting off, and we both know you’re here watching this because you want something in return. So don’t be shy.”
You swallow thickly, heart racing in your chest.
“How about this, I strip tease for you, and in return, you get yourself ready for me?” he suggests.
It’s almost hard to breathe now, but you nod, staring directly at Wonwoo. You know his eyes are on you. At this point, it’s clear he’s ignoring the camera completely, but with his face obscured by the mask, his subscribers will be none the wiser to the true event taking place.
Wonwoo starts by gently lifting up his shirt, exposing hard abs and a lean muscled body that has your core already throbbing with need.
Compression shirts are part of his brand, so Wonwoo stops the teasing there, hands instead dropping to the belt of his black jeans. He’s slow with undoing it, slow with the way his long fingers toy with his button and zipper.
He releases a sigh as he lifts his hips, pushing his pants down to his knees. His thighs bulge where they press against the black leather of his gaming chair, but the bulge in his underwear is even bigger, and it makes you unconsciously lick your lips as your eyes stay glued to every motion.
“Come on, baby, be good for me,” Wonwoo tells you, and it snaps you out of your trance.
You realize you need to be doing something too- that’s the whole intrigue of this. Wonwoo gets off on camera, and you get off behind it. Mutual masturbation, in the sexiest possible form.
Truly no hands on, just self gratification while watching the other pleasure themself.
You remove your shirt, and Wonwoo lets out a groan. “That’s it.”
Deciding to keep your bra on for now, your hands slip to your own pants, and you carefully take them off.
“Want to see you,” Wonwoo says, palming himself through his underwear.
Your hands are shaking as you remove your panties, body alight with energy. It’s not shyness per se- more like shock that you’re even in this situation.
You want it, so fucking bad, but it’s a truly difficult thing to wrap your head around. This situation is unlike anything you could have imagined in your wildest dreams, and you’ve never been more turned on in your entire life.
You’re now bare on your lower half, and you relax against the bed, lifting your legs so your feet are on the mattress, your pussy spread for Wonwoo.
He releases another deep groan, shifting his own underwear down.
His beautiful cock slaps up against his stomach, and he immediately wraps a hand around it.
There’s a bottle of lube next to him, and you watch him spurt some onto his palm, when he brings it to his cock again, you begin to touch your pussy.
You start with your clit, drawing slow cirlces while Wonwoo strokes himself, matching your pace.
“Mmm, that’s good,” Wonwoo muses, relaxing back against his gaming chair. His head lolls back, but you know his eyes are still entirely focused on you. “I know you’re feeling good too, aren’t you, baby?”
Since he’s on camera, you know you can’t make a sound, but you nod aggressively, swallowing the lump in your throat as you apply more pressure to your clit.
“That’s it, rub harder,” Wonwoo encourages you. “Bet you’re all nice and wet for me already, huh?”
It’s hard to hold in the moan that threatens to escape you, but you nod again, biting your lip to force yourself not to make a sound.
“I can just imagine your mouth on my cock, sucking me so good,” Wonwoo says. “How I’d grab your hair and help you find a rhythm. Bet you’d kind of love choking on it, love the way tears roll down your cheeks as I use you.”
Your toes curl at his words, and you rub your clit even harder, the knots in your stomach tightening deliciously.
“When you got me to the edge, I’d switch things up. I’d lay you down on the bed, eating you out until you cum on my tongue, until your thighs are shaking around my head. I’d hold you down too, because I know you’d like that. Something tells me you want to be dominated, and I could show you what that’s like.”
It’s as if he’s read your mind, as if he knows you better than you know yourself.
“Once you’re good and ready, I’d finally give you my cock,” Wonwoo groans, increasing the pace of his strokes along his length. “Bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Love to have me spreading open your insides and fucking you stupid.”
Your breathing is shaky as you rub your clit, your heart racing in your chest. Your eyes close a little as you focus on the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that’s beginning to blossom inside of you.
“I think you should slip a finger in, baby, imagine it’s mine.”
Your eyes snap open again as you stare at him.
“Come on, do as I say.”
With a shaky hand, you bring your fingers to your core, slipping one into your obscenely wet hole.
“Hmm, that’s it,” Wonwoo groans. “Bet you wish it was bigger though, huh?”
You nod, biting your lip even harder in an effort to control yourself.
“Add another finger then. They’re still not as big as mine, but you can dream, right?”
God, you were not mentally prepared for this.
To be the sole focus of No Face is the most sinfully wonderful thing you could ever experience, and the way your body reacts to his commands- following through without your mind even registering it now-
Wonwoo has you in a daze, and you kind of love it.
“Fuck that pussy with those tiny fingers, baby,” Wonwoo encourages you. “I wanna hear it.”
You’re so wet you’re almost afraid his camera will be able to pick up the sound of your squelching pussy, but fuck it- he’s given you a command so you’ll follow through.
“That’s it, feels good, huh?”
You can see he’s stroking his cock harder, and it makes your mouth begin to salivate as you watch.
“Do you think you’re close, baby?” Wonwoo asks.
You nod.
“I’m close too, something about this has me hornier than usual. Thinking about tasting you, about fucking you with my fingers then railing you with my cock- you’re doing something to me, baby, and I know I’m doing something to you too.”
You nod again, more enthusiastically this time.
“Rub your clit again, want to watch you cum for me.”
You do as he says, and you bite hard on your lip again, throwing your head back, eyes closing as you focus on the feeling.
Wonwoo begins to moan as he watches you, and you’ve seen enough videos of his to know that this is a sign he’s near the edge too.
You can hear the wet slapping of his lubed hand now, and you know he’s beating himself off hard and fast- you bet he wishes it was your pussy on his cock right now, and it makes your toes curl again as you get closer and closer to your own high.
“Fuck, that’s it,” Wonwoo moans. “Come on, you can cum for me.”
You nod, muscles tightening to an impossible limit-
“That’s it, that’s it-”
Wonwoo’s encouragement throws you over the edge and you fall backward onto his bed, grabbing a pillow to put over your face, muffling your moans as your orgasm washes through you.
Your whole body is throbbing with sexual energy, thighs already shaking as you continue to rub yourself through it- having not received a command that you could stop.
You pray to God that the pillow is enough to muffle your sounds, because the whimpers escaping you are no longer something you can keep in- especially when Wonwoo releases a grunt of his own, a sign that he’s cum too.
A shiver of tingles errupts through you at the notion that he’s tipped over the edge, that the two of you have cum together in a situation like this.
Your mind is practically blank except for this moment, and as your orgasm dies down, you can’t ignore the racing of your heart in your chest.
“That’s a good girl,” Wonwoo groans, voice drawing you back to reality.
You move the pillow away, pulling your hand from your core as you sit up again, blinking at Wonwoo.
He’s cum all over his chest, and it’s a big load too- fuck, part of you wants to just lick it up.
“You were a good girl for me tonight,” Wonwoo says. “Such a good girl.”
He’s gently toying with his cock still, but finally he stops, and after a deep sigh, he turns off the camera.
The two of you sit there in silence for a moment, and once Wonwoo has the cap back on his camera’s lens, he pulls off his mask.
His skin is flushed, and he looks absolutely beautiful. There’s nothing like a post orgasmic glow to bring light to someone’s eyes.
“You good?” he asks, voice returning to its normal tone.
“That was amazing,” you whisper.
“I can’t believe you’re seriously okay with all of this,” Wonwoo admits with a sigh, running a hand through his unruly curls before reaching for some tissue to begin wiping up his mess.
“I am.”
He chuckles. “I can tell you’re overwhelmed though.”
“Maybe a little,” you admit, anticipation bubbling through you.
“I think it’s best if we call it a night.” Wonwoo says, and something sinks within your chest at his words. “I want to fuck you, I do, but… I want to give you time to think about all of this.”
“I have thought about all of this,” you counter.
“You’ve thought about fucking No Face, but off camera, I’m just Wonwoo, and I don’t want you to be disappointed with… the reality of me. No Face is a persona, and I need to know you understand that.”
You consider his words, and nod. “I’ll spend some time thinking about all of this.”
“But we’re still on for studying in a couple of days, right?”
“Regardless of us, we have a project to finish,” you nod.
Wonwoo smiles. “Thanks for coming today, it made a difference.”
Nine:
The two of you are studying in Wonwoo’s room, and as hours pass by, it’s getting harder and harder for you to focus.
There’s a tension in the space that you could cut with a knife, and your panties have been wet since you arrived.
In the past couple of days, you’ve given the whole situation a lot of thought… and you may have rewatched the camshow you did with him about a hundred times too.
“Wonwoo?” you ask, putting your laptop to the side.
“Hmm?”
“I wanted to talk to you about us.”
He gives you space to continue and you take a breath.
“I know that the whole No Face thing is a persona, and while he’s not you, he’s still part of you. Despite that, I like who you are too. You’re calm, and smart, and level-headed- and respectful too. Most men wouldn’t have done what we did and let me go home to process the situation. You could tell I was overwhelmed and you didn’t take advantage of me, which shows you’re respectful too. I think… you and I are kindred souls, and I’d like the opportunity to get to know you better, the real you, not No Face.”
Wonwoo nods, and you can tell he’s thinking about what you’ve just said. “I want to know you better too. I never thought I’d find a cute, shy girl who would be okay with the whole OnlyFans thing. You’re quiet, but you’re kinky, like me, and I really like that.”
Your skin heats at his words, and a smile works its way onto your lips.
“Doing this project has been great,” Wonwoo continues. “We work well together, and yeah… I like you a lot. I want to give it a try too.”
“Good.” You take a breath, sitting up to move closer to him. “So… I think we’ve done enough studying, don’t you?”
Wonwoo chuckles. “Feeling needy, huh?”
“You’ve got a half chub already, so don’t talk to me about feeling needy,” you tease with a grin.
“Talking back, are you?”
“You said it yourself, you’re not No Face, you’re Wonwoo. No Face is a dominant, but Wonwoo… I’m getting vibes from you that you’re something else.”
He cocks his head to the side, looking at you with a smile. “I guess you know the real me better than I realized.”
“You talk a big game about being a dominant on cam, but… my guess is you’re softer in person, softer like this.” You reach out to stroke his face, and Wonwoo leans into your palm.
“Are you okay with soft?”
“I’m okay with a mixture,” you tell him. “Whatever feels right in the moment.”
“Part of me wants to fuck the shit out of you,” Wonwoo notes. “But… as a first time, another part of me wants to just be nice.”
“Then be nice, you can be rough later, I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to it.”
“You better.”
You move his laptop out of the way, swinging your leg over his hips so you can mount him where he’s seated on the bed.
His hands find your waist, and he looks up at you. God, he truly is so beautiful.
You’ve kissed him before in the library, but that had been all fire, all passion, all pent up tension- as you lean down to press your lips to his now, you get the sense that everything about this interaction will be softer.
He’s not playing off as his alter ego, he knows you accept the real him, that you want to experience Wonwoo tonight, not No Face.
As amazing as No Face was, you don’t want him to think that’s all you’re here for.
He kisses you gently, one hand moving up to cup your cheek. His tongue is tentative as it runs along your bottom lip, asking for entry instead of demanding it.
You tilt your head a little to make things easier as the kiss deepens, his fingers digging into your hip.
You begin to grind down against him, enjoying the pressure on your clit. He’s already hard, and you know he wants this as badly as you do, which lights a fire in the pit of your stomach.
With one movement, Wonwoo has you both rolling, and you end up with your back pressed to the bed, Wonwoo on top of you.
Now it’s his turn to grind down against you, and you kiss him harder, whimpering against his lips.
One of his hands snakes up to your breast, and he squeezes you through your shirt, groaning at the way you fit in his palm.
“Can I take care of you?” he asks.
“You can do anything you want,” you assure him, heart beating rapidly in your chest.
Wonwoo’s lips move to your throat, and then the swell of your cleavage. You throw your head back, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation.
He’s gentle when he removes your shirt, followed quickly by your bra, and then his mouth is on your chest again. His lips are soft as they suck on your nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud.
Your hands find their way to his hair, tangling in his curls as you enjoy the worship he’s providing you. Wonwoo takes his time with your breasts, and you can feel your pussy throbbing- you wonder if this is what blue balls feels like for men- this insatiable need to have attention on your core instead of the erogenous zone he’s currently enjoying.
Soon, Wonwoo’s mouth is moving down your body, and he slips onto the floor next to the bed. He takes off your pants and panties, moving slowly as if to give you time to change your mind.
But you’re not going to change your mind.
You want this more than you’ve ever wanted everything, and as he drags you to the edge of the bed, intent on eating your pussy like he’d talked about on cam, you give yourself over to him fully.
His hands massage your legs, and he peppers kisses up your calf, tickling your knee as he moves to your thighs.
Your legs adjust over his shoulders, and his hands grab at your hips as he leans in for his first lick of your pussy.
The contact of his tongue on your clit has you releasing a squeal of delight, your entire boy tingling with pleasure.
You can feel Wonwoo’s eyes on you as he begins to eat you out, his tongue pushing into your wet pussy before flicking back up to your sensitive bud again.
“Feels good!” you tell him, muscles already beginning to tighten with pleasure.
His fingers get a better grip on you, one hand moving to your thigh to hold you in place as he devours you.
He sucks your clit into his mouth and it’s a sensation that has your entire body reacting, the cord in your stomach tightening even more-
No one has eaten you out in practically forever, and to be having a man worship you like this- it’s getting you closer to the edge, faster than anyone else before.
“Shit,” you whimper, tangling your fingers in his hair again, back arching as the pleasure begins to build.
Wonwoo doesn’t relent, he eats you out like a starved man, his eagerness only growing with each second-
Your whimpers are getting louder, the sensation building more and more-
“I’m gonna cum!” you announce, eyes clenching shut as you teeter on the edge-
Suddenly two fingers are slipping into your pussy, crooking up so his digits can touch your sweet spot, at the same time, he sucks roughly on your clit and that’s all it takes to make you cum.
You gasp, your orgasm exploding inside of you unlike any other.
It’s all consuming in the best possible way, your body throbbing with unknown pleasure.
Wonwoo continues to finger fuck you, working you through it as wave after wave of ecstasy consumes you.
Your clit is almost too sensitive now, your thighs shaking, muscles beginning to hurt from the power of your high.
“Fuck, Wonwoo-” you whimper, pushing at his head.
He pulls away from your clit, his fingers slowing inside of you, and you can feel his eyes.
“You good?” he asks.
“Fuck, that was so good-” you groan, another shiver erupting through you when he strokes your inner walls again. “Need more.”
“Need what?”
“Your cock,” you tell him. “Need it so bad.”
“I’ll grab a condom,” Wonwoo muses, pulling his fingers out of your pussy only to plop them into his mouth.
As he stands, you freeze. “Wait! I’m on birth control!”
He stops, looking down at you. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure I’m on birth control, yes.”
“No, I mean, are you sure about unprotected sex?”
“Well… I’m clean,” you point out. “I haven’t had sex in forever-”
“Me neither,” he admits. “Other than, you know, sex with my own hand.”
You stare at him for a moment, and from the way he cracks a smile, you know he’s making a joke. So you begin to laugh too.
“How have we both not gotten laid in a while?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Guess we’re both pretty shy.”
“And school is busy,” you point out.
“School, gaming and OnlyFans is definitely a lot,” he agrees, pulling off his shirt then kicking down his pants. “Move up to the pillows for me, want you to be comfortable.”
You do as he says, watching eagerly as he gets fully naked for you.
God, his cock is even prettier up close, and you bite your tongue as he gets onto the bed with you. Your legs wrap around his hips instinctively, and you pull him in for a passionate kiss.
He begins to grind down against you, stimulating your oversensitive clit in a way that has you squealing with delight.
“I like your sounds,” Wonwoo muses, lips moving to your throat and ear, where he gently bites your lobe. “Was a shame I didn’t get to hear them during the cam show.”
“I tried to be good and quiet for you.”
“You were very good for me,” Wonwoo groans, voice dropping into the No Face cadence, which has your stomach flip flopping, pussy getting even wetter.
Wonwoo reaches between your bodies, adjusting the tip of his cock to your pussy. “You said you haven’t been fucked in a while,” he muses, “so if this hurts, or you need me to go slow, or stop-”
“I’ll be fine,” you assure him, cupping his face. “Just fuck me, please.”
Wonwoo kisses you then, slowly pushing his rock hard cock into you as you whimper and claw at his shoulders.
He fills you so well- your inner walls finally receiving attention from a real sized cock after way too long.
Your fingers - hell, even his fingers - don’t do his full length justice, and it feels like heaven once he’s fully bottomed out.
You both release a low groan, your toes curling with pleasure.
“I’m good,” you tell him, pressing kisses to his throat as your fingers explore his broad shoulders. “Feels good.”
“You feel good,” he counters, beginning to move.
The drag of his cock along your core has you groaning, eyes closing as pleasure consumes you.
“Shit,” you whimper, holding him tighter.
“Shit,” Wonwoo echos again, picking up his pace.
You lay there, enjoying everything he’s giving you. As himself, Wonwoo’s not much of a talker, but you’re okay with that. The two of you simply gasp and moan as conversation, and you enjoy the feral aspect of sex, the part where you’re both overcome by the feeling of each other, so overcome that words aren’t even necessary.
Wonwoo presses his lips to yours again, kissing you fiercely as he fucks you harder and harder, until his bed is rocking and you’re scared people outside his door will be able to hear you moaning.
But part of you doesn’t even care, you don’t want to hold yourself back with Wonwoo anymore, not like you did when he was on cam. No, you want him to hear every whimper, every groan, every squeal of pleasure as he fucks you better than anyone else ever has.
There’s a connection here, a spark, and it lights a fire inside you as Wonwoo fucks you for the very first time.
It’s passionate as you remain lip locked, your hands grabbing at his strong shoulders.
You don’t even care that it’s clear this will be a one position fuck session. Missionary has always been one of the more boring ways to fuck, but with Wonwoo- it’s downright magical. There’s nothing like it, being pressed chest to chest- as close as you can be as you do this.
Wonwoo’s groans are magic too, and they have your pussy throbbing depserately around him-
Then he slips his hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit-
Your pussy clamps down on him, a gasp escaping you as you break the kiss to look up at him.
“Want you to cum with me,” Wonwoo groans. “Please.”
You can’t respond, all you can do is focus on the building sensation- and in no time at all, you’re tipping over the edge with a loud moan.
Wonwoo returns your sound with a grunt, burying his face against your throat as he cums with you.
Your pussy throbs around him, milking Wonwoo of all he’s worth as he moans in your ear, fucking you through it all.
His hair is tickling your cheek, but you can’t even care as the orgasm swells through you like the waves of a warm summer ocean.
Your chests are still pressed together, and you can feel the beating of his heart. It’s almost dizzying, feeling this connected to another person, and it leaves your mind blank as you enjoy it.
Your arms are wrapped around him, cuddling Wonwoo close as his motions come to a stop, and then you just pant together, doing your best to catch your breaths.
You stroke his hair, releasing a deep sigh.
Wonwoo presses one last kiss to your throat before pulling away. “How do you feel?” he asks.
“Perfect.”
Wonwoo grins. “Me too.”
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! This was so fun to write, I can't wait to explore this au more in other chapters!
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!
🔮 preview. You know there will be no more rough housing, no more use of the paddle, because No Face might be somewhat of a sadist, but Wonwoo is a pussy whipped softie, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, foreplay, dirty talk, blow job, pussy eating, hand job, commanding/dominant alter ago Wonwoo, use of paddle, impact play, pain kink, fingering, slight sadism Wonwoo, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of sex toys, creampie, etc… I petnames. (hers) baby.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3k I teaser wc. 110
🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader
bonus
You love Wonwoo. You love him for all that he is, No Face and all, and you also love that despite his online alter ego, he’s very soft and giving in bed. However… sometimes, you just want to be man handled and dirty talked until your head spins, and your lovely boyfriend is more than willing to provide that for you on special occasions.
Today is your birthday, and after you’re done classes, you go back to your apartment to shower and get ready.
You’ve bought a very sexy outfit. Garter connected fishnets, a black push-up bra, a corset, sexy high heels, and a thong to complete the whole look.
☀️ to read the full fic AND 3k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here
👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here
🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list
As I was short on time this month and unable to do a teaser, here's another shout out to some of my favourite blogs who interact with my work, I love you guys endlessly
🔮 preview. “You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, reader has a hard time cumming, oral (f/m receiving), Mark is a MUNCH, deep throating, fingering, masturbation, use of toys/vibrator, dirty talk, praise, Mark is a simp, sex realism, overthinking during sex, mentions of sexual favours in return for affection, a string of bad ex-lovers, breast worship, creampies, aftercare, finger sucking, drunkenness, etc… I pet names: (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy boy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.4k
Comfort Cuisine - Johnny Suh
🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.
tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k
Fresco - Lee Donghyuck - link coming tomorrow :)
🔮 preview. When you first met Hyuck in the elevator, you’d thought he was nothing more than some fuckboy line chef. But now, you see a deeper side of him. He’s thoughtful and caring, a little chaotic in the best way, but willing to calm down and match your pace. And to top it all off, he’s hot as fuck.
tw/cw. protected sex (for probably the first time ever), gentle/slow build-up sex, oral/pussy eating, slight praise, slight dirty talk, reader hasn’t been fucked in a while, low-key wholesome sex with a reformed fuckboy because you’re now cat co-parents, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous.
🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader I ft. Haechan & Jaehyun
🔮 preview. So… Johnny works on a rig for long periods of time, Jaehyun is a gym rat with dimples, and Hyuck is a… drug dealer who’s not afraid to be extremely direct and combative? And they’re all your neighbours and also into you? How did you get yourself into this mess?
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, pent-up sexual tension, shower sex, masturbation, fingering, hand job, thigh riding, praise, dirty talk, breast worship/nipple play, big dick Johnny, pussy stretching, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple reader orgasms, multiple sex positions, size kink (Johnny is big and a slight manhandler), mentions of aftercare, etc… I pet names: (hers) 304, baby, princess.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.3k
🍭 aus. Love square, slice of life, neighbours to lovers, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. So when Johnny calls her the nickname ‘304,’ we’re not doing full numbers, it’s ‘three-oh-four’ which I actually think is kind of cute haha
One:
You feel like an absolute mess. Your hair is all over the place, you’re in a full sweats ensemble that is - true to its name - making you perspire like nothing else as you lug boxes upon boxes of your stuff into your building and up to your new apartment.
To make matters worse, you’re exhausted. Moving days have this absolutely draining effect, and you can’t wait for the day to be over. You’re not even sure if you’ll unpack anything- maybe you’ll just fish out a towel and some body wash from one of the many crates you have, shower, then collapse onto your mattress- do you even have the energy to set up your bed frame?
You’re busy trying to plan out how you’re going to even accomplish the day, when the elevator doors open, and you find yourself staring up at one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen.
“Hi,” he grins, stepping next to you in the small space. “Moving in?”
You’re so distracted by the way his biceps look in his muscle shirt that it takes you a moment to speak. “Uh, yeah.”
“I’m Johnny,” he tells you.
“y/n.” The box in your hands is beginning to slip from the sweat on your palms, and you haphazardly readjust it on your hip.
“This might be a little forward,” Johnny chuckles, “but do you need any help?”
“Uh…” You turn once again to look up at this absolute tower of a man. “I’m almost done moving everything-”
“Let me guess, boxes done, just some furniture stuff left?”
You feel your skin flush with heat. “Is it that obvious that I’m struggling right now?” An awkward laugh escapes your lips, and you’re happy to find Johnny return the sound with a soft, understanding smile.
“Usually when cute girls move somewhere, they have a boyfriend, a brother, a dad, a friend- someone to help them do the tough stuff, and since you’re alone, I’m guessing you’re troopering this whole thing out all by yourself.”
“New city,” you explain. “I don’t uh- don’t know anyone here just yet, and my family didn’t want to take time off work to help with any of this.”
“Lucky you bumped into me then,” Johnny grins. “I just finished up at the gym, but I’ve got energy to help a new neighbour.”
The elevator dings to signal you’ve made it to your floor, and Johnny follows you out.
“You’re the new tenant for 304?” he asks.
“Uh huh,” you nod, stopping in front of the unit you now call home.
“We really are neighbours,” Johnny laughs. “I’m 306.”
“Look it was nice to meet you,” you say, “but you really don’t need to help, I’m sure I can manage my bed and a few other things-”
“y/n,” Johnny interrupts you, “I promise I’m not some creep, just a good neighbour offering help. You look tired, let me help you.”
Your pride makes it difficult to accept this sort of thing, but you swallow it, offering Johnny a nod.
And that’s how you find yourself moving your bed and the last bit of furniture into your new apartment with one of the sexiest guys you’ve ever seen. He’s quite the charmer, and he’s reassuring too- calming you down when things are a little heavy, and slowing his own pace to match your exhaustion.
In no time at all, everything is out of the moving truck, and Johnny leans in your doorway as he watches you slump into a chair.
“Do you want help making your bedframe or anything?” he enquires.
“Honestly? I think I’m going to call it a day,” you admit. “The drive here was long, I’ve been up since five AM, didn’t sleep well last night due to nerves-”
“Sounds like you should get some rest,” Johnny nods.
“I really appreciate your help though,” you offer. “I’ll uh, have to buy you beers or something.”
Johnny only laughs. “That’s not necessary. Besides, I work on a rig, so I’m only here a week or so every month, you caught me at a good time.”
“Oh.” You can’t help the disappointment that surges through you. Of course this man was too hot to be true- of course he has a job that requires him to be away for long periods or he’d probably have an equally hot girlfriend already.
“But… let me give you my number, and if you ever need anything while I am here, you can just give me a shout.”
The two of you exchange digits, and with one final smile, Johnny leaves you be.
You lay on your bed for a while, trying to calm down- from the moving, or from being around a ten out of ten, you’re not sure.
Two:
It’s your first time doing laundry in the new building, and to your disappointment, you find the shared laundry room to have no available machines.
A sigh escapes you as you stand there momentarily, wondering if you should wait five minutes for a turn over, or just scratch this whole idea and hope there are empty machines tomorrow.
As you’re considering your options, the laundry room door opens, and a tall blonde enters.
“Hi,” he beams.
“Hello.” You watch him carefully, noticing that he heads to a machine to take out his clothes from the washer. “Uh- do you mind if I put my stuff in there once it’s empty?”
“Of course not,” he smiles. “With only six machines for the whole building, it can be a bit rough trying to nab one on busy days.”
“I’ve noticed,” you laugh. “I’m new here, my name is y/n.”
“I’m Jungwoo,” he tells you, moving his clothing into the only empty dryer. He turns on the machine and then steps back, looking over at you again. “So are you new to the building or new to the city?”
“The city,” you admit, beginning to move your stuff into the now empty washer.
“You have that look.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just- a lot of people here are boring, we’re not exactly known for fashion or anything like that-”
You look down at the Stitch onesie you’re wearing that you’d bought for Halloween a few years back but has since become a comfort outfit, then back up at the blonde.
“I just like your style!” he insists. “Not everyone can rock blue pajamas!”
You find yourself laughing at his sincerity, shaking your head as you grab your washer fluid to get the machine going.
“Anyways,” Jungwoo sighs. “Did you move here for work?”
“I actually work online,” you tell him. “I can work from anywhere, and I figured this would be a nice place to get out of the big city for a while- cheaper rent, more nature, that sort of thing.”
“Makes sense,” Jungwoo nods. “I’m a server at a bar just down the road.”
You take a moment, then laugh. “You seem like a server.”
“Because I’m so cute and social?” he grins.
“Definitely,” you nod, enjoying his energy.
“Anyways, I love making friends, and since you’re new to the city, I’m guessing you haven’t met a lot of people yet. If you want to be friends, I’d love to add you to my gossip roster.”
“Your gossip roster?”
“I’m a server, which means I love all things tea- except for when grandmas order actual tea in the middle of a rush, that’s the worst.”
“I’ll take your word on it,” you grin.
“So… friends?” Jungwoo asks.
You nod. “We can be friends.”
Three:
It’s been three weeks since you moved into your new apartment, and in that time, you’ve gotten settled, and even visited Jungwoo at his bar. He’s an interesting friend, and he seems to know everything about everyone.
At first, you’d been worried about any ulterior motives he might have, as you’ve experienced many men try to make a move on you under the guise of just wanting to be your friend. But now, you realize Jungwoo’s intentions towards you are pure- or, as pure as they can be given how much gossip he consumes.
You get the sense that you’re not his type, and that’s a hundred percent okay with you, in fact, it’s a dynamic that makes you finally feel comfortable accepting an invitation to visit his apartment.
It seems all the attractive men in your building live on your floor, and as you enter his unit, you find yet another cute man standing in the kitchen.
“This is Mark,” Jungwoo introduces you. “Mark, this is y/n. Don’t worry, Lee, I’ve told her everything about you.”
“Oh, great,” Mark sighs.
It’s true, Jungwoo has divulged way too deep into his roommate’s history. You know that he’s a content creator and chef, he used to work in a prestigious restaurant, went on one of those reality cooking shows, managed to be the runner up for the first place prize despite his awkward nature, and has now been commissioned to write a cookbook focused solely on burgers (which Jungwoo has assured you is actually a broad topic despite what you might think).
You also know that Mark has a limited dating history, with a high school sweetheart who left him right before his stint on live tv, and a new crush on some barista that he’s too shy to even talk to despite the fact that he goes to her coffee shop every day just to order frothed milk with vanilla since caffeine doesn’t agree with him.
“So what’s on the menu tonight, chef?” Jungwoo asks, coming to stand right behind Mark in the kitchen.
From the way Mark clears his throat and steps back, it’s obvious to you that he’s not as comfortable about being close to people as Jungwoo is, and you find yourself enjoying this roommate dynamic already.
“I’m actually testing some stupid protein burger for muscle heads,” Mark admits.
“Aren’t burgers already high in protein since they’re meat?” you ask.
“Yes, and no,” Mark groans, “it depends. I want to have a few vegetarian and even vegan options in the cookbook I’m writing on burgers- and lots of people want high protein even in their plant based meals.”
“So… what are your options for this burger you’re trying to create?” you enquire.
“I’ve tried some black bean patties, chickpea patties, that sort of thing- but I’m considering making an entire two page fold dedicated to dredges and batters that you could use on a variety of burgers, meat or vegetarian. I got everything to make a protein powder infused batter, but I’m just now realizing that the protein powder I have on hand is chocolate flavoured, which really won’t work if I put it on anything, let alone a tofu burger.”
“Call Jae,” Jungwoo says simply. “That man has a collection of protein powder that would make a man on steroids combust.”
“Maybe I should just run to the store,” Mark sighs.
“You only need a small scoop of powder, right?” Jungwoo counters. “Why would you go buy an entire plain jug of protein powder when a protein head lives next door?”
“I’d hate to bother him,” the chef groans again, and you find yourself starting to realize the true depth of his social anxiety.
“I’ll call Jaehyun,” Jungwoo states, pulling out his phone.
You take a seat at the island counter while Jungwoo makes a deal for some powder with this ‘Jae’ person, and you watch Mark fuss over other ingredients that he adds to a dry mixing bowl.
There’s a knock at the door, and then a man peaks his head inside of the apartment.
Your eyes lock and the wind is knocked from your lungs- is every hot man in the city living in your building?
“Jae!” Jungwoo yells, “come in!”
The man steps into the apartment, offering a smile, and the dimples in his cheeks practically blind you. There’s no way around it, this man looks like a model. He’s handsome, but there’s a slightly feminine softness to the angles of his face, a warmth in his eyes, and it’s absolutely captivating.
“Am I interrupting?” Jae asks as he approaches the kitchen, his eyes continuously meeting your own.
“Not at all, Mark’s just floundering as usual, and I’m hanging out with my new friend. y/n, this is Jaehyun, Jaehyun, this is y/n.”
“Nice to meet you,” you smile.
“You too.” Jaehyun sets a tub of protein powder onto the kitchen counter next to Mark, then he turns his full attention to you again. “So how did you meet Jungwoo?”
“In the laundry room,” Jungwoo is quick to explain, and you don’t miss the exchange of glances between Jaehyun and your friend. “She’s new to the building.” Jungwoo practically winks at Jaehyun, and you get the suspicion that he’s trying to set you up with this model looking protein man.
“I love meeting new neighbours,” Jaehyun says smoothly. “What floor are you on?”
“This one, room 304.”
“No way.” Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “That’s right across from mine!”
“You’re 305?” you ask, heart beating faster in your chest.
“In the flesh,” Jaehyun grins.
“Can we move the talking somewhere else?” Mark asks quietly. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
The energy fizzles immediately, and Jaehyun nods. “I was actually just heading to the gym.”
“Of course you were,” Jungwoo rolls his eyes.
“But uh, I’ll see you around,” Jaehyun says, looking at you directly. “Welcome to the building.”
Four:
You suppose you shouldn’t be shocked when meeting cute men in your apartment building anymore, but you still find your breath leaving your body when you’re bringing groceries up from the parking garage only for a very cute man to enter the elevator.
He steps in and flashes you a smirk, then looks at the floor buttons. “You’re headed to three?” he asks.
“Uh huh.”
“Are you new?”
“Been here about a month.”
“Huh,” the man looks stumped for a moment. “I feel like I would have seen you. I’m Hyuck by the way.”
“y/n.”
Hyuck nods. “Are you liking the building?”
“It’s nice,” you muse, too tired from your day at the grocery store to make much smalltalk.
“You must be… unit 304? I’m a couple of doors down, near the corner. I know someone moved out, and I heard from the building manager that someone was moving in, but fuck, I can’t believe I haven’t met you yet.”
“I can be kind of reclusive,” you joke. “I mean, I work from home.”
“Ahhh, you’re one of those girls.” Hyuck grins at you knowingly and your heart leaps into your throat.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs. “Just, you know, sometimes the cutest girls are the ones that stay in their house all day.”
“Oh.” You’re really not sure how to respond to his statement, and your eyes shift down to the floor as the elevator comes to a stop.
The two of you both turn to the left, and Hyuck walks in step with you to your door, where he stops. “What’s that?”
You’re confused for a moment, too busy fumbling with your keys, but when you look up, you realize there’s a sticky note on your door.
“Looks like you already have an admirer,” Hyuck grins. “Was nice to meet you, we should hang sometime,” he reads. “Who do you think left this?”
You’re pretty sure it was Jaehyun who left the note- after all, the only other people you know are Jungwoo and Johnny, who both have your number, and you doubt Mark Lee of all people would be this forward.
“I uh-” you stutter a little, swallowing thickly. “I’m not sure.”
“So are you single, or…?”
“Definitely single,” you blurt out, pushing your key into the door and clicking it unlocked.
“Definitely single,” Hyuck repeats as you push into your apartment, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Five:
You’re finishing up after dinner when your phone makes a beeping sound, and you quickly pick it up, surprised to see a message from Johnny.
‘Looks like you’ve got some secret admirers, 304.’
Your stomach drops, and you realize that in your haste to enter your apartment after finding Jaehyun’s note with Hyuck earlier, you hadn’t actually removed it from your door- but wait, admirers? As in… plural?
Tripping over yourself to get to the door, you throw it open to find not one sticky note, but two.
While Jaehyun’s initial ‘Was nice to meet you, we should hang sometime’ is still there, someone has taken the liberty to put a second note on top of it, and this one reads; ‘I’m more fun, let’s have drinks.’
It’s clear who the second note is from, and you’re quick to rip both off of your door.
Jaehyun and Hyuck are both quite forward, and your heart is racing as you go sit on your couch, feeling conflicted.
You pull out your phone again, releasing a deep sigh as you write up a text to Johnny. ‘This apartment building is so weird.’
‘Boys will be boys,’ comes his quick response.
Taking another breath to calm yourself, you look at the texts, and that’s when you realize, ‘I didn’t know you were back from the rigs.’
‘Got back a couple of days ago :)’
Tapping your fingers against your couch, you try to figure out how you should play this.
You’re most attracted to Johnny, but now that Jaehyun and Hyuck are so clearly demonstrating their blooming affection for you - out in the open where everyone on your floor can see - you wonder if that might throw a wrench at Johnny’s own feelings for you…
Does Johnny like you?
When he’d helped you move your things, was that just him genuinely being nice?
You feel absolutely twisted, especially since you’ve never considered yourself the type of girl to entertain a long distance relationship…
‘So… you’re in town for a few more days?’
‘three!’
You definitely need to sort out your priorities.
Six:
You’re in need of a drink as you walk into Jungwoo’s work, taking a seat at the bar and releasing a deep sigh.
“For a girl who came to happy hour, you don’t look too happy,” Jungwoo muses as he moves to stand in front of you.
“Is it that obvious?” you laugh.
“I mean… you’re the hot new girl in 304 who has two guys fighting over you in sticky notes, I’d expect you to be a little more up beat.”
“You saw that?” you ask in shock.
“Everyone saw it. Whoever left those notes weren’t exactly subtle… who did leave those notes, by the way?”
You let out a laugh, shaking your head at your friend’s need for gossip. “You know one of them at least.”
“Jae, I’m guessing,” Jungwoo nods. “He asked me for your number but since I’m your friend I’m not just out here handing around your personal information.”
“I appreciate that.”
“And guy number two?” he enquires.
“Some dude named Hyuck.”
An interesting expression immediately appears on Jungwoo’s face. It’s something between an ‘oooooh!’ and an ‘ooop!’ and you can’t quite place the emotion.
“What?” you ask, leaning forward. “You know him?”
“Everyone knows Hyuck.”
“They do?”
“Let’s just say…” Jungwoo’s voice lowers as he leans over the bar, “he’s a provider of things that a lot of people like to get their hands on.”
“Huh?”
“A plug, there, you tortured it out of me, Hyuck is a plug,” Jungwoo throws his hands up as if you just twisted his arm for the information, and you stare at him blankly.
“A plug,” you repeat.
“You can’t be that innocent, babes, you know what I mean.”
You sit back in your chair, thinking it through.
So… Johnny works on a rig for long periods of time, Jaehyun is a gym rat with dimples, and Hyuck is a… drug dealer who’s not afraid to be extremely direct and combative? And they’re all your neighbours and also into you? How did you get yourself into this mess?
“Where did you even meet Hyuck?” Jungwoo asks.
“In the elevator?”
“Why did that sound like a question?” your friend laughs.
“I don’t know! God, I’m just… overwhelmed.”
“There are worse things to be overwhelmed about, I mean… tax season is coming soon, and I don’t know how much fraud I should commit with my tips.”
You can’t help but laugh at Jungwoo, and he’s succeeded in using humour to calm you down.
He’s grinning at you, and he taps his hand onto the bar top. “Let me make you a drink, on me, but you’ll be paying me with gossip, deal?”
“Deal.”
You trust Jungwoo to make you drinks by now, and he doesn’t ask what you want, he simply begins to mix a fruity concoction together. Soon, he’s setting it down in front of you and you’re taking a large gulp.
“So…” he grins. “Hyuck or Jae?”
“Are those my only options?”
Jungwoo’s eyes widen. “Spill the tea.”
“I just… I met this guy Johnny when I moved in-”
“Johnny as in super tall, blue collar, muscle man, Johnny?”
“Sounds like him,” you laugh.
“And you met him the first day you moved in?”
“He actually helped me with boxes and furniture.”
Jungwoo lets out a whistle. “Now I see why you’re overwhelmed.”
“I guess, I just don’t really know any of these guys too well. I’ve only met all of them once-”
“But you have a favourite,” Jungwoo interjects. “Johnny’s your favourite, despite his fucked up job.”
You sigh. “How could you tell?”
“I watch a lot of reality tv, in shows like Love is Blind or Singles Inferno sometimes a girl has multiple guys going for her, but the first one leaves a mark… it’s not always the case though, but it’s about that initial impact.”
“Impact,” you repeat. “Johnny definitely made an impact… and he saw the notes from Hyuck and Jae.”
“Oooooh,” Jungwoo grins, “scandalous.”
“But he works away for weeks at a time!”
“He’s here now,” Jungwoo points out. “So… go on a date with him, and sort out Hyuck and Jae after.”
“You think so?”
“What could be wrong about it?” Jungwoo shrugs. “Go on a date with Johnny, see how you feel- maybe he does something gross that turns you off and it makes life easier.”
“Or maybe he’s perfect and it makes things even worse,” you sigh.
“You never know until you try. Another thing from my dating shows is that no one wants to live with regrets, and I don’t think you do either.”
Seven:
You’d taken Jungwoo’s advice, and after two drinks at the bar, you’re home, waiting for a knock that sounds on your door.
Taking a deep breath, you fix your outfit, approaching your entry way to find Johnny standing in the hall. He looks all tall and gorgeous, in a similar laid back muscle shirt and sweats combo to the one you’d first seen him in. His hair is a little messy and damp as if he’d just come out of a shower, and the smell of his piney bodywash has you going weak.
“Hi,” he grins.
“Hi,” you smile back. “Uh, come in.”
Johnny nods, stepping past the threshold. “Are you a shoes off in the house kind of girl?”
“Yes, please.”
You watch him kick off his runners before turning to you. “I’m a little confused.”
“You are?”
“I got your text that you wanted me to come over, and I half expected you needed help building some cabinet or something, but then I remembered you’ve been here a month already, so now I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”
“I told you I’d buy you a beer for helping me move my stuff, remember?” You let out an awkward chuckle. “I don’t have beer, but I did open a bottle of wine.”
“That works,” Johnny grins.
“Come, sit.” You move to your living area, taking a seat on the couch. Johnny joins you, and you note the way he immediately shifts his body to be facing you. He watches you pour him a glass, and you both notice your shaky hand as you pass it to him.
“How much have you been drinking, 304?”
“A bit.”
“Rough day?” he enquires with a smile.
“Just…” you let out a deep breath. “Not used to all the attention I’m getting here.”
“Yeah, your entourage.” Johnny sips his drink, still grinning as if this is the funniest thing in the world.
“Would you believe me if I told you I’m not the kind of person who loves getting a lot of attention?”
Johnny cocks his head to the side. “I think it’s hard for a girl who looks like you to avoid that sort of thing.”
God, he is into you, you can taste it- or maybe that’s the sweet notes of your wine.
You don’t know what to say, but you feel a grin appear on your face, your eyes shifting down to your glass. “I don’t know about that.”
“Just an observation,” Johnny laughs. “So… what are you going to do about all of this?”
“I think…” you swallow thickly. “I think I’m doing something right now.”
“Yeah?”
You look up at him, smiling. “Yeah.”
Now it’s Johnny’s turn to be at a loss for words, and you get the sense that this isn’t something that happens very often to him.
“I’m sure you know what it’s like to get a lot of attention,” you offer.
Johnny shrugs. “I’m only in town a week every month, and when I’m here I spend most of my time at the gym or at home. I’ve never been a big party guy, I prefer cheap beer to bars, and I guess I’ve just accepted that a guy like me has to be single.”
“You have to be?” you enquire, cocking your head to the side in a bid to understand him better.
“Most girls aren’t interested in starting anything with a man who works on a rig. I understand the guys who have girls before the job, and they stay after building a foundation, but it’s hard to work on the start of a relationship when you’re not around.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” you nod- in fact, it’s something you’ve considered to great length already. “If… if the right girl came along, would that be something you’re interested in exploring?”
Johnny lets out a deep breath. “That’s a good question.”
You watch him sip his wine, giving him the space to consider it.
“I just… I wouldn’t want a girl to feel like she’s an afterthought, or a fuck buddy- and doing the work I do, I have to be focused. It’s day rate, it’s dangerous, sometimes the rigs are a couple hours away from camp, and that’s on top of a twelve hour shift-” He lets out another deep sigh. “I think it would take a very special, very loyal kind of girl to give me a chance.”
“And what would you say your type is?”
His eyes meet yours. “I love a cute girl next door.”
Your heart thumps in your chest. “Funny, I like a boy next door.”
“Then it’s a good thing we’re neighbours.”
Johnny lifts his glass and you clink yours together, giggling.
It’s crazy how things can feel so comfortable with him already- but in the background of your mind there’s a sense of dread looming, after all, he’s leaving in just two or so days.
“Can I be honest with you?” you ask.
“Of course.”
“I’m sad you’re leaving soon.”
“I’m not leaving yet,” he points out.
“You know what I mean.”
Johnny shifts, resting his arm on the back of your couch. “I have a proposition for you, 304.”
“God, stop calling me 304,” you laugh.
“It feels like we’re interested in each other, but I get the sense you’re unsure about the long distance aspect. What if we hang out tonight, tomorrow I take you on an actual date, and if things go well, we could talk about what communication would look like when I’m away.”
“You know what?” you take a deep breath. “I would like that.”
“But… I have on condition.”
“Hit me.”
Johnny is quiet for a moment. “I’m aware that, no matter how good our dates tonight and tomorrow are, me being away might be too much for you. You have two other guys who are interested and they live here, so… even though I’m a cuddly person, I think it’s better for both of us if we keep things PG before I leave, that way… I mean, if you chose one of them because distance is too much, at least things won’t be awkward for us, and we can still be friends.”
“I think…” - as much as you hate the idea and want to climb him like a tree - “I think that might be the most mature way to handle this.”
Johnny nods. “So… what are your thoughts on aliens?”
“Huh?”
“UFO’s, UAP’s, USP’s-”
“What even are all of those?” you laugh.
“Unidentified flying objects, unidentified aerial phenomenon, which is pretty much another term for UFO’s, unidentified submersible phenomenon-”
You shake your head at him in affectionate shock. “Where did you learn all of this?”
“History network,” Johnny grins. “Listen, why would I ask you surface level questions when we can dive into conspiracy theory? UFO’s are a good way to bounce into all sorts of topics, religion, politics, current and historical events-”
He’s a little odd, but you suppose you understand where he’s coming from now. You decide to give up control, and you lean into his question, loving the twists and turns that the conversation takes. You talk about everything, from the moon landing, to ancient monolithic structures and tv shows about space, a discussion about recent alien films leads to an analysis on favourite actors-
Before you even know it, hours have passed, the wine bottle is empty, and you feel as if you know him a lot better than when he’d first entered your apartment.
“Do you work tomorrow?” he asks.
You sigh, looking at the time. “At nine.”
“I should probably get out of your hair then. When are you off?”
“Fiveish.”
Johnny stands up, stretching, and you can’t help the way your eyes move to the exposed strip of V-line when his shirt rises. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow at fiveish, 304.”
You rise to your feet, pleasantly surprised when the gentle giant pulls you in for a hug. God, the feeling of his chest against your cheek- the soft cotton of his muscle shirt and the scent of his cologne- you release a deep breath, fully melting into what must be one of the best hugs of your life.
“I’ll text you,” Johnny says, and as he does so, his lips brush the crown of your head.
He’d said PG, and you suppose this is PG, but fuck, you want more.
Eight:
Out of all the possible date venues, you hadn’t expected bowling. Johnny had told you to dress casually, he’d picked you up, and taken you down to a massive black truck- he’d driven you around town, pointing things out to you, and you’d ended up at a small, underground bowling bar.
He’s a bit of a goof ball, but you can tell he’s got experience playing this game. To compensate for your lack of skills, he does all sorts of trick shots that make him miss points, and you appreciate his effort to not decimate you.
You drink beer and chat and play, and again, it feels so natural with him.
When the game is over, the two of you get in the truck, and Johnny says he wants to show you something. A fifteen minute drive leads you to the edge of town, on a lookout that’s perfect now that it’s dark and the small city’s lights are sparkling.
“Do you take all your dates here?” you tease.
Johnny chuckles. “Would you believe me if I told you I haven’t been on a date in a while?”
“I guess with your job, I would,” you pause, looking over at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
The large man releases a sigh. “I had a highschool sweetheart,” he starts. “But as time went by, she couldn’t deal with me being a blue collar man. She was very corporate, and our life styles weren’t exactly a match. When she broke up with me, I switched from construction to the rig jobs, figured it would be easier to just put my head down and work. Been doing that for about six years now.”
“So you haven’t dated since highschool?” you ask in shock.
“There’ve been a couple of things here and there. Took a few summers off, had flings, but shit always hit the fan when I went back to work.”
“That makes sense,” you nod.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a family man at heart,” he assures you. “As a supervisor, I definitely make enough money to take care of the people in my life, but it’s always been a time issue.” Johnny takes a breath, and then he meets your gaze. “What about you? Any skeletons in your closet?”
“Had a couple of failed relationships, the last one inspired me to move away from my home city and come here so I guess there’s a silver lining to it. Ended things with my ex about a year ago and nothing really felt the same after that, figured a change of scenery would do me good.”
“And has it? Done you good?”
You look over at the gorgeous man sitting next to you. “Definitely.”
It feels like the perfect moment to kiss him, and you note the way his gaze dips to your lips, but then he pulls back, letting out a sigh. “You’re dangerous.”
“Me!?” You act scandalized.
“Yes, you, little miss 304.”
You can only laugh, doing your best to enjoy the rest of your date with him while the knowledge that he’s leaving tomorrow haunts in your periphery.
Nine:
Johnny’s been gone for three days, and he’s been true to his word when you’d discussed communication while he’s on the rig. He’s kept contact with you, sending good morning messages for you to wake up to, and texting or calling in the late evening when he’s off work.
However, other things have progressed as well. You’d come out of your apartment this morning to find not one, but two bouquets waiting for you, and you feel as if this thing with Jaehyun and Hyuck is getting out of hand.
You find yourself at Jungwoo’s bar again, giving him the rundown on everything that has happened.
“So you’re like, set on Johnny then, huh?” your friend asks.
“I’m not sure, it’s only been three days that he’s been gone but I miss him already, and I can’t even imagine what it will be like to wait another nineteen days-”
“You always knew distance would be a struggle,” Jungwoo nods.
You groan, taking a sip of your fruity cocktail. “I just can’t believe Jaehyun and Hyuck left flowers at my door.”
“You’re going to have to do something about them.”
“Like what?”
“Reject or accept, babes,” Jungwoo says simply.
“Accept?”
“You’re not technically dating Johnny yet. It sounds like he understands you might go on a date or two while he’s gone, I mean, you had that whole conversation about keeping things PG so it’s not awkward if he comes back and you’ve chosen someone else- it feels like he’s giving you breathing room to explore.”
You can only sigh, resting your head in your hands.
“Do you want to explore?” Jungwoo enquires.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you’re going to bump into Jaehyun or Hyuck sometime, so you better figure it out fast.”
Ten:
As you’re returning from happy hour with Jungwoo, you run into your building manager. He’s a young man named Doyoung. He has a very regal look to him, and he’s as attractive as most of the men on the third floor.
He’s in the small building office, and as you walk past, he stops you.
“y/n!” he calls, waving you inside, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you!”
Your heart sinks- your payment wasn’t late, was it? Did you get a noise complaint? Your mind begins to race-
“I heard that people have been leaving notes and flowers at your door,” Doyoung tells you. “As you’re a young woman who is new to the building, I wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re not being harassed.”
Your brain short circuits- it’s one thing for Jungwoo and other people on the third floor to know about your ‘secret admirers’ but another for your building manager to be broaching the topic with you.
“I uh,” you swallow thickly. “I’m not being harassed.”
Doyoung gives you a pointed look. “You’d tell me if you were, right?”
“Of course,” you assure him. “It’s all just playful, nothing… nefarious.”
God, you hate how proper you’re trying to sound, but how else are you supposed to explain this situation to Doyoung?
This is so awkward, who knew moving into a new apartment would be this fucking complex?
Eleven:
You’re in the lobby checking your mailbox when the front door opens and Jaehyun walks in. His hair is windswept, and he looks like he’s getting back from the gym. He immediately flashes you that dimpled smile and your heart begins to thunder in your rib cage.
“Hey, you,” he grins. “Long time no see.”
“Yeah, I’ve uh… been busy,” you offer, quickly closing your mail box.
“Seems that way,” Jaehyun muses, and you realize he’s waiting to go to the elevator with you.
Taking a deep breath, you pull up your big girl panties, walking with him to the lift.
He hits the button, turning to you. “So-”
The elevator opens and you find Hyuck standing there, having just come up from the underground parkade, and suddenly you feel like a deer caught in headlights.
“Hiya, hot stuff,” Hyuck grins. “Going up?”
Part of you wants to turn and run away, but you’re in too deep now to go back, so you enter the elevator with the two men who’ve been fighting for space on your door, and maybe also in your heart.
“How’ve you been?” Hyuck asks.
“I’ve been good, just busy,” you mutter quickly, hitting the ‘close door’ button in the hope that it saves you even one second in this awkward elevator ride.
“You coming from the gym?” Hyuck’s line of questioning has taken a turn, and you realize he’s addressing Jaehyun next to you.
“Yup, you?”
“Was just out,” Hyuck responds vaguely.
You get the sense that these two might know each other in passing, after all, you all live on the same floor, but at the same time, it’s somewhat clear from their muted interaction that they’re not particularly close.
It’s an awkward, silent minute in the elevator, but it’s even more awkward when you all get off on the third floor, with both men letting you exit first, only to struggle in a pissing match over who follows you.
They end up tracing your steps to your door, and when you get there, they both stop.
“Wait,” Hyuck breathes, and you watch him look from you to Jaehyun then back again. “You must be sticky note dude.”
“And you’re flowers guy,” Jaehyun sighs.
Both of them turn to you and it’s Hyuck who asks, “You’re still single right?”
It must be obvious to them both that if they’re warring at your doorstep, neither of them actually have your number just yet, and while it’s awkward to be put on the spot like this, you understand their confusion.
“Still single,” you assure them, fumbling with your keys. “I uh, actually have only lived here a month, and I’m still getting settled-” you search for the right words while trying not to drop your phone. “I appreciate the interest from you both, but this has gotten a little out of hand- Doyoung asked me about all of this yesterday-”
“Doyoung?” Hyuck scoffs. “What does he care if we leave notes and flowers at your door?”
“I guess he’s just concerned about my safety?” you offer.
While you can tell that Jaehyun understands, Hyuck still seems a little slow to the pick up, rolling his eyes. “As if we’d ever do anything bad.”
Which is funny, coming from a guy who’s supposedly a drug dealer.
“I think I just need some space,” you say finally, shocked by the conviction in your own voice as you slip your key into the lock. “To… you know, settle.”
“I’m sure we can give you some space,” Jaehyun offers, and you can tell from his tone that it’s a warning to Hyuck not to argue.
The plug sighs. “Yeah, we can give some space.”
They’re both very handsome, and upon different circumstances, one of them doing the sticky note and flowers trick might have swayed you, but the fact that it’s become something of a war between them has turned you off. The seriousness in Doyoung’s discussion with you yesterday had made you realize as much, and you’d be lying if you said your growing connection with Johnny didn’t have anything to do with it either.
Twelve:
After the debacle with Jaehyun and Hyuck, you’d anxiously awaited a call with Johnny when he was done work and back at the camp. But now, as you talk to him on the phone, you hesitate about divulging in the events that took place today.
Johnny’s making an effort with you, but you can hear in his voice that he’s exhausted, and you don’t want to add pressure to his shoulders-
“Are you okay, 304?” Johnny asks.
“Hmm?”
“You’re just a bit quiet.”
“I’m thinking,” you admit with a sigh.
“Sounds intense, what’s up?”
Another deep breath escapes you. “So… remember the whole secret admirer thing?”
“Uh huh.”
“They left flowers on my doorstep a few days ago too, and Doyoung actually pulled me aside to ask me about it- he was worried I’m being harassed, and it just makes me think about, you know, being a young woman in a new city and my safety…”
You trail off and Johnny takes the opportunity to empathize, softly telling you, “Being anxious about this sort of thing is reasonable given the circumstances.”
“It’s not that I think Jaehyun or Hyuck would ever overstep-”
“Well, they left notes, and you didn’t respond, so they left flowers, it’s not exactly a sign that they’re going to back off.”
“I guess that’s true,” you admit.
“Anyways, you were saying, about Doyoung?”
You love how Johnny can get you back on track, and you take another deep breath to steady yourself. “I saw Jaehyun and Hyuck in the elevator today, and they both walked me to my door which was super awkward, and I guess I pretty much ended up telling them both that I needed space. Part of me wasn’t sure if I should tell you any of this, I know you’re tired after work a long day, but I guess I want to be transparent with you about everything.”
The line is quiet for a moment, and when Johnny speaks, you can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “I appreciate you bringing it up,” he starts. “If I’m being honest, I’m a little shocked you didn’t accept either of their offers to get drinks.”
Your heart lurches in your chest. “Really?”
“Yeah, I mean, I thought I’d made it clear that I’d understand if you did-”
“Just because you’d understand it doesn’t mean I was going to do it,” you tell him.
Johnny chuckles. “I suppose that’s true. I just, I don’t know, you don’t owe me anything- and maybe you’re just not interested in either of them, but I hope you didn’t say no to them to… spare my feelings or something?”
“Well… are your feelings spared?”
Another laugh escapes him. “I just mean to say, this wouldn’t be the first time a girl thought she could do long distance, only to get a better option in town and jump ship.”
“Maybe I’m not like the other girls you’ve dated,” you tell him.
“It’s starting to feel like you’re not.” You can hear the fondness in his voice, and it makes your heart race faster in your chest.
“When I get one man in my head, I can’t think about another. I’m not the type to jump ship,” you explain. “You’ve given me no reason to.”
“Except the distance,” he muses.
“Even with the distance, you’ve been attentive every day, and I’ve really appreciated that. You know, some guys will live in the same city as you, take you on one date, then not talk to you for five days- you and I did two dates back to back, and we’ve been talking consistently ever since.”
“Like I said, I didn’t want you to feel like an afterthought.”
“And I don’t want you to feel like just an option.”
The line is quiet for a moment, then Johnny laughs. “There you go, being dangerous again.”
“If being genuine is dangerous, then I’m the most dangerous woman you’ll ever meet, Johnny.”
“I work on a rig, 304, I happen to like danger.”
Thirteen:
You’re drinking wine with Jungwoo in your livingroom when your phone dings, and a smile spreads across your face when you see it’s a text from Johnny.
“One second,” you tell him, putting down your wine to respond to your blue collar man.
“Johnny?” Jungwoo grins knowingly.
“Yup, he’s just telling me he’s off work, but now it’s a two hour drive back to the camp.”
“So our girls’ night is over in two hours, got it,” Jungwoo jokes, except, is it really a joke if it’s true?
You can only laugh, shaking your head and setting your phone down again.
“You like him,” Jungwoo notes. “You like him a lot.”
“I do,” you confess.
“You told Jaehyun and Hyuck off because of him,” your friend continues.
“Uh huh.” You take a sip of your wine, trying to ignore the knowing expression on Jungwoo’s face.
“So… has it gotten sexual yet? You know, asking for snaps of your tits-”
“Jungwoo!” you squeal, nearly spilling your wine as you go to gently smack his arm.
“What!? It’s a valid question!”
“No! It’s not sexual yet! I mean… I think we both have those feelings, but right now… we’re just, getting to know each other.”
“And when he’s home?” Jungwoo cocks a brow and you giggle even more.
“When he’s home…” you lower your voice, “I’m going to climb that man like a tree.”
“I knew it!” Jungwoo cheers. “Team Johnny!”
You clink your glasses in agreement, waiting for Jungwoo to settle down a little. He’s way too invested in your love life, but you kind of adore it.
“You know…” Jungwoo trails off, “some rig guys do mostly winters, then come back for the summer and will take a couple of months off. I remember seeing Johnny more frequently last August.”
“He mentioned that,” you admit.
“Did he say if he plans to do that this year? It’s almost March, so that’s April, May, maybe June… three or four more stints up there until a possible summer of love?”
You laugh at his choice of words, but your heart races at the notion of getting to spend your whole summer with Johnny, of a relationship of normalcy.
“I’ll have to talk to him about it,” you decide.
“Maybe send some sexy snaps to tempt him, or talk about it once he’s home and you’ve sucked that dick, you know, incentives.”
“You’re so bad,” you giggle.
“I’m a hit of realism, which is what you need after living a fantasy for a month with three men fighting over you.”
You let out a sigh. “I suppose you might be right about that.”
Fourteen:
“How was your day?” you ask, practically kicking your feet now that you get to talk to Johnny.
“Long,” he laughs. “You?”
“It was good, hung out with Jungwoo for a bit, had some wine.”
“I can hear it in your voice, 304, you always get extra cute when you’ve been drinking your wine.”
“Do I?”
“See? I can just imagine you kicking your feet right now.”
God, he knows you so well already- but you suppose that’s what happens when you talk to someone for hours every day.
“And now you probably stopped kicking your feet because you’re embarrassed,” he continues.
“You’re a psychic,” you declare.
“Sure I am.”
You take a breath. “There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“So… you mentioned that sometimes you have the summer off, and I guess, since it’s almost March, I was just wondering if you’d be around in June or July.”
“I mean, I wasn’t necessarily planning on it, but if that’s something you wanted, I could see what I could make happen.”
You pause, considering your words carefully. “I don’t want to tell you what to do… and, I don’t want you to lose out on money for me, especially since we just started dating, if you even call this dating- but, at the same time, I think, long term, it would be easier to manage you going away for six or more months if I knew you’d be back for at least part of the summer.”
“I do call this dating,” Johnny tells you. “So I’ll see what I can do about it.”
“I also wanted to know when you’re flight back is, I was thinking I could come grab you from the airport.”
Johnny chuckles. “I’ll send you the information, 304.”
Fifteen:
You’re waiting outside your car when you see Johnny coming out of the airport, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore. You run to him, throwing yourself into his arms.
Johnny chuckles, dropping his duffle to pull you closer, even going so far as to lift you off the ground, releasing a groan as he does so.
Fuck, he feels so good, and big, and warm-
When he sets you down, you throw inhibition out the window, grabbing the back of his neck to pull his lips down to your own.
He smiles into the kiss, his palm flattening against the small of your back, his mouth moving in harmony with your own. You kiss him deeply, pouring in all the emotion of having missed him for weeks-
It’s you who breaks the kiss, panting and looking up at him. “Let’s get you home,” you state.
“Whatever you say, 304.”
The drive back to the apartment complex is a blur, you’re so distracted by Johnny that you’re surprised you even make it back in one piece. The elevator ride is quiet, filled with tension, and you can practically feel happiness radiating off of both of you.
“Wanna come to mine?” Johnny suggests. “I need to have a quick shower, unpack a little.”
“Okay,” you nod, excited as you follow Johnny to his place.
He lets you in first, and you eagerly eat up what’s in front of you, looking for details of the decor that might help you know this man even better.
However, you find that his apartment is sparsely decorated, with bare necessities, a minimalist look, which you suppose makes sense given the fact that he’s hardly here.
“Your place is nicer,” Johnny muses as he kicks off his shoes.
“It’s just more furnished,” you laugh, not minding the lack of items.
“My bedroom is this way,” Johnny explains, heading into it while you follow slowly. He throws his bag on the floor next to his bed before turning to you. “I’m going to wash up a bit, then we can do whatever you want… or, I mean, you could always join me in the shower if that works better.”
He winks at you, and it’s very playful. You can only laugh, shaking your head and feeling your skin flush with heat as you look at the ground.
“I’ll be here,” you tell him, but when he disappears into the bathroom, you find your heart is still racing.
Should you go in the shower with him?
He had offered for you to join…
Can you be a bit more patient?
No. You can’t. As you stand in his bedroom, you begin to undress, hyping yourself up for the moment that you’ve been waiting for.
After a deep breath, you knock gently on the door to his bathroom.
“Come in!” he calls over the sound of water spray, and you peek your head into the enclosed space.
The room is full of steam, and the glassy walls of the shower are fogged up, but you can see the outline of Johnny’s body and it has you drooling.
You slip inside, closing the door behind you before making your way to the shower.
“Can I join you?” you ask, giving him one last opportunity to decide if this was a bad idea-
“Get in here.” Johnny opens the shower door, grabs your arm and tugs you inside with him. You blink against the mist, looking up at the large man who’s currently blocking the spray of water from hitting you. “Didn’t think you’d actually join,” he muses with a grin.
“Me neither,” you admit.
Johnny strokes your arm, fingers trailing up so he can cup your face. His thumb brushes by your cheekbone and you lean into his warm touch, releasing a moan.
“Do you want to do this here, or would you rather we wait till I can get you onto my bed?” he asks.
“Here,” you tell him. “I’m tired of waiting.”
“Didn’t take you as the impatient type,” Johnny chuckles.
“I’ve been patient, for weeks,” you laugh.
“I guess that’s true, let’s fix that.” The tall man leans down, pressing his lips to your own. You immediately wrap your arms around his strong, wet shoulders, pressing your chests together as the kiss deepens.
You can feel your nipples hardening against him, and his hands move to grab at your hips, pulling you even tighter to his body.
Something is beginning to press against your abdomen, and you love that you’re getting him hard already, that he’s as into you as you are into him.
His palm slips down, and he grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing deliciously. You break the kiss to throw your head back, eyes closed as you enjoy the sensation of him.
“You know the only bad thing about shower sex?” Johnny asks, lips hot against your throat now. “Water isn’t lube, so I guess you’re going to have to be a good girl for me and wait just a little longer while I get you nice and wet for me.”
“I’m already wet,” you insist.
Johnny only chuckles, squeezing your ass harder as he licks at the sweet spot on your throat. “Let me enjoy this, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”
“Really?” you groan. “I never would have noticed, you’re always so PG.”
“I’m not going to be PG anymore.”
“Thank god!” A shiver runs through your body at the idea of what ‘rated R Johnny’ is going to look like- and as he pushes his thigh up between your own, you’re so grateful that you no longer have to wonder, you’re about to find out exactly how dirty this blue collar man can get.
Johnny laughs again, but as he laughs, he pushes his thigh up even higher, making contact with your clit.
“Fuck, I haven’t been touched in so long,” you whimper, immediately grinding down against him.
“Well, you deserve this, you’ve been a very patient, very good girl for me.”
“I have been,” you nod, rubbing your clit harder against his large, muscled thigh.
“Had options, but you stayed loyal, even when you didn’t have to.” Johnny’s still kissing your throat, and he nuzzles up against your ear, biting your lobe gently. “I feel like those choices have earned you many rewards.”
His words are something like praise- appreciation almost, and you’re thankful that he’s taken into account the fact that you’ve made important decisions to put this blooming relationship first, even when - as Jungwoo said - you had no actual defined loyalty keeping you tied to this tall man.
“I just like you a lot,” you moan, feeling overwhelmed with the possibilities of a relationship with this man- a man who has communicated that he’s interested in something long term, which is such a stark contrast to most of the men you deal with these days.
God, to have hope for a man again- it’s such a foreign feeling.
“I like you too, 304.”
“Johnny,” you groan, “call me something else.”
“I think 304 is cute,” he grins against your throat.
“Please?”
“Okay, baby, I’ll call you anything you want,” Johnny promises, adjusting his grip on you so he can trail his hand up your torso, putting a slight distance between your bodies now so he can cup your breast. His thumb rubs over your hard nipple and you whimper, grinding harder against his thigh. “You are a baby, aren’t you, pretty girl?”
“Yes,” you whimper.
“I could also see you as a bit of a princess,” he muses, pinching your nipple and making you gasp loudly. “Adorable little pretty princess baby.”
He might be overdoing it with the pet names, but you can’t even bring yourself to care- in fact, this overt cheesiness is doing something to you, making your pussy throb as you grind against his wet skin.
“That’s it,” Johnny groans, “I kind of want to watch you get off on my thigh.”
“Yeah?” You swallow thickly, reaching for his hard cock. You’re a little taken aback by how large he is, but you guess you shouldn’t be all that surprised. You’ve been shy so far, not even taking so much as a peek at what you’re going to be working with- and maybe that had been a mistake. You’d been so sure of yourself earlier when you’d told Johnny you could take him without prep, and now you’re realizing how wrong you had been.
A deep moan escapes Johnny as you begin to stroke him, and he rolls your nipple between his fingers, making you cry out- only for his hand to move away, along with his thigh.
You want to protest- only for two digits to press between your pussy lips, teasing your entrance but not pushing in- just playing, toying, moving up to your clit then back down.
“Fuck,” you whimper.
“You definitely feel wet,” Johnny muses.
“So finger fuck me?” you suggest, applying more pressure to his cock as you stroke him off.
“Hmm?” He circles your clit teasingly, being so gentle that your body is already practically begging for more.
“Please finger fuck me?” you ask, your free hand now clutching his forearm in desperation.
“Only because you asked so nicely.”
Johnny cups the back of your head, pulling your lips to his as his fingers enter your hot core for the first time.
Fuck, his fingers alone are enough to stretch you out and it feels absolutely delightful.
He starts slow, testing the waters as his digits explore your inner walls gently, but as the kiss deepens so do his motions.
You’re absolutely lost in him, whimpering and moaning- your hips even begin to move, eagerly seeking out stimulus that he grants when his palm presses flat to your clit.
“Fuck,” you gasp, holding his strong, veiny forearm even tighter.
“Feels good?” he asks, looking down at you with lust filled eyes.
“Feels so good,” you nod, fighting the urge to just close your eyes and enjoy it, while also wanting to stare up at this gorgeous man who is watching you with clear interest.
You take a shuddery breath, trying to focus on stroking his cock, but he makes it more difficult when he crooks his fingers up, hitting that sweet spongy spot inside of you that has your legs shaking.
“Are you going to be able to stand through all of this?” Johnny chuckles. “That’s the other bad thing about shower sex, it’s a slipping risk.”
“I think I can do it,” you insist, not wanting him to stop his motions for even one moment.
“Just hold onto me tightly okay, but if you start to fall, uh… don’t pull my dick off.”
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, and Johnny joins you with a chuckle of his own.
This feels so natural, so safe- the fact that you’re both giggling during your first sexual experience together is a great sign, and it makes you relax a little more, which only adds to the pleasure that’s starting to throb out from your core.
“You close?” Johnny asks, sensing the shift in your attention.
“Too close,” you nod, swallowing thickly in an effort to control yourself.
“Want you to cum on my fingers,” he tells you. “You can do that for me, right princess?”
“Uh huh.” Your mind is becoming clouded by lust, and it’s making it harder for you to respond to him-
His fingers are moving fast now, pistoning in and out of you with just the right amount of pressure, his palm stimulating your clit in a way that’s just enough-
You’re getting closer and closer to the edge and you don’t feel like slowing down.
Your eyes close, your breathing becoming haggard as your muscles tighten with anticipation-
“Cum on my fingers, baby,” Johnny groans. “Wanna feel it.”
With that, you explode, unable to contain yourself anymore as his filthy words vibrate through your entire being like a mantra. The pleasure is intense, your core clamping down on his digits, body throbbing deliciously as you give yourself over to the feeling of it.
Your legs are weak, and you grab Johnny’s forearm tighter, digging your nails against his skin.
It’s the kind of ecstasy that you never want to end, and it’s clear that Johnny’s not going to be the one to pull the rug out from under you. He keeps you steady, working you through your high until your legs are physically shaking.
Only once he’s sure you’re finished does Johnny pull his hand away.
You open your eyes to watch him slip his fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you, and an echo of pleasure throbs through your pussy again.
“You’re so pretty when you cum,” Johnny tells you.
“Want you inside of me, now,” you respond.
“Hmmm… not yet.”
“What?”
“You almost just fell over, I don’t think this is the safest place to do this,” Johnny laughs. “Come on, let's get out of the shower, dry off, and I’ll take you to my bed, like I’d planned.”
“Is it really that bad to fuck me here?” you whine.
“One, I don’t want you to slip, and two, I don’t want our first time to be here, you deserve a proper bed, so I can cuddle you after.”
“You’re such a romantic,” you tease, but your heart swells at the notion of a man actually taking care of you.
“You love it,” Johnny insists.
He reaches behind himself, turning off the spray of water, then, he helps you out of the enclosed space. “Here,” Johnny passes you a towel, quickly patting himself down with his own before wrapping it around his waist, then he begins to help dry you off.
“I can do this part,” you assure him.
“I want to take care of you,” Johnny muses as his palms massage your breasts through the towel, making sure they’re extra dry.
“I think you just want to touch my tits again,” you grin.
“That too,” Johnny laughs.
“Predictable,” you toy.
“You think so?”
“Uh huh.”
In one quick motion, Johnny grabs you by the hips and lifts you onto the washroom countertop, tearing the towel away and discarding it haphazardly as he sinks to his knees.
“I think I’m going to make you cum on my tongue before I fuck you, you know, to prove how predictable I am.”
You don’t even have a moment to argue, Johnny pushes your thighs open, pulls you to the edge of the counter, and dives into your core with his tongue.
You immediately latch onto his damp hair, throwing your head back as his mouth begins to work your pussy. You’re still sensitive from having just cum, and the sensation of his lips now wrapping around your clit has your muscles clenching with pleasure already.
“Fuck-” you whimper, loving the way Johnny’s fingers are digging into your thighs, holding you open for a tongue that has a mind of its own.
You especially adore how messy he’s being. There are no kitten licks, no hesitancies, just a full-on lust fuelled ravaging of your core- nothing in your life has ever felt this fucking good.
You tug on Johnny’s hair roughly, but he’s unrelenting, in fact, you think he kind of likes the inkling of pain because he groans against your clit, licking at you sloppily while his nose bumps your sensitive bud over and over.
For a man who doesn’t do one night stands very often, he definitely knows his way around a pussy.
“Shit,” you moan, louder this time, your muscles tightening more and more-
You’re not used to men behaving this way with you, worshiping your body and putting your pleasure first. To have two back to back orgasms before he’s even taken anything for himself? Unheard of.
You can tell he wants you to cum, can tell that he’s eager for it, and the wet licks of his tongue against your sensitive pussy are ensuring that his preferred outcome happens sooner rather than later.
You give in to the feeling, deciding to relinquish control. If he wants to make you cum fast, then you can cum fast, and all of your attention moves to the feeling of pleasure that’s radiating out from your core.
Your abdominal muscles are tightening deliciously, and you begin to buck your hips a little, trying to ride his tongue while you hold him tight to your pussy by his hair.
Johnny groans again and the vibration of it sends a shiver of delight through your entire body.
“Fuck, I’m gonna-” You swallow thickly, brows furrowing with effort as you latch onto that feeling of euphoria, unwilling to let it drift away- “just like that, just like that-”
He sucks lewdly on your clit, flicking it with his tongue, and that’s all you need to explode, your pussy clamping down hard on nothing, squeezing and squelching sinfully.
You’re gasping loudly, moaning like a whore as your orgasm washes over you in waves- and like your first high, Johnny is just as unrelenting with this one.
He doesn’t pull away, and with so much attention focused on your throbbing clit, it’s almost too much for you to handle.
You begin to push at Johnny’s head, but he’s like a brick wall, unmoving and diligent in his task.
“Oh my god-” your voice is raising with effort, raising with the euphoria that’s threatening to overwhelm you completely. “Johnny- too much-”
This time, he allows you to push him away, and you sink back down against the countertop, chest heaving with effort. Your legs twitch with aftershocks from your orgasm, and you can’t even bring yourself to open your eyes yet, still lost in the ecstasy he’d just provided.
“You okay, princess?” Johnny asks, and you can sense him rising to his feet, his eyes inspecting you.
“Overstimulated,” you admit, another shock washing through you and making you jolt.
“I got side tracked,” Johnny admits, and you peer out at him from under hooded lids to see him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
“It’s okay, it was just a lot,” you assure him, reaching out to gently stroke his forearm.
“Come on,” Johnny coaxes, lifting you off the sink so he can carry you to his room, “let’s give you a breather.”
He lays you gently onto his mattress, moving the blankets so you can get under the warm duvet.
The sheets smell like him, a manly pine scent, and it makes you groan, burying your face against the pillows while your brain tries to reaclimatize after a mind shattering orgasm.
Johnny joins you, and you instinctively cuddle close to his chest, delighted by the way his large arms wrap around you to hold you close.
“Just give me a sec,” you whisper, but even as the words leave your lips, your hand snakes down to his cock, and you gently wrap your fingers around the thick length.
Johnny chuckles. “Part of me thought you’d be too tired to actually fuck now.”
“Never,” you tell him, although you’re so exhausted from two extreme orgasms that there’s little conviction in the tone of your voice.
“Take your time,” Johnny assures you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head while you languidly stroke his large cock. Unlike in the shower, however, there’s no lubrication of any kind, and soon, you tire of it.
“Okay,” you tell him, sitting up, “I can ride you.”
“Are you sure you want to be on top?” he blinks in shock.
“Just to start, just to get used to your size,” you assure him.
“Whatever you want, princess.”
You swing your leg over Johnny’s hips, straddling him, and his hands find your waist.
“Actually, let me grab some lube,” he says, sitting up abruptly. The muscles in his abdomen ripple under the skin, and you’re taken aback by just how beautiful this man is even as he’s reaching for his bedside table.
He pulls out a green bottle, squirting some of the gell into his palm before he grabs his cock.
You kind of love the view of his large hand on his massive cock, stroking up and down-
“Like what you see?” he laughs.
“You’re just so perfect,” you muse.
“That makes two of us I guess,” Johnny grins. “Okay, whenever you’re ready.”
He’s all lathered up now, and you grab the base of his cock, guiding yourself down on the tip.
As you sink down even an inch, you groan at the stretch.
He’s covered in lube, and you’re definitely more than lubricated from two orgasms, but fuck- having not had sex in ages only to take the biggest cock of your life is definitely an adjustment for your tight pussy.
“Take it slow,” he assures you, tightening his grip on your hips to keep you steady as you gently sink down further on his cock.
“I’m good, you’re just so big,” you whimper.
Johnny only chuckles at your words, his eyes fixed on the meeting of your bodies.
“Not sure I can take it all like this,” you admit.
“I’ve heard that when a girl is on top, things feel deeper,” Johnny muses. “Don’t feel like you have to take it all right now, we can work up to that.”
“Okay,” you nod, “I’m going to bounce a bit.”
“Works for me, princess.”
You close your eyes, leaning over him and placing your hands firmly on his chest as an anchor as you begin to move up and down. The feeling of his massive cock against your inner walls has your body singing with pleasure already, and you begin to moan.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “Feels good.”
“So good,” you agree with another whimper.
One of Johnny’s hands moves from your hip to your breast, and he begins to massage the sensitive flesh as you ride him gently. The sensation of him tweaking your nipple has you groaning, your pussy clenching incredibly tight around him, which makes both of you cry out desperately.
“Fuck, let me know when you want me to take over,” Johnny tells you, and you get the sense that you might be killing him a little with the slowness of your pace. His hips twitch, and you suspect that he’s doing everything in his power not to madly thrust up into you, which is something you appreciate greatly.
You ride him for a little while longer, and then you give up, legs burning with effort already. “Okay, okay, you can top now.”
You pull off of his cock, and Johnny helps you roll down onto the bed, your back hitting the mattress.
Instead of just getting on top of you, however, he stays on his side and leans over you, pressing his lips to yours while his hand continues to massage your breast.
You groan against his lips, threading your fingers through his hair desperately as his tongue invades your mouth.
He kisses you until you’re breathless, until your pussy is pulsing with desire, only then does he get between your legs, bringing the head of his cock to your awaiting hole.
“If you ever need me to slow down, or be less rough, or anything, just let me know,” he tells you, swallowing thickly as he gazes at your body.
“Just do it, Johnny,” you assure him, stroking his forearm. “Please.”
You watch his adam’s apple bob with effort again, and he slowly pushes the head of his cock into your wet hole, making you cry out. You grip his arm tighter, closing your eyes to enjoy the stretching sensation.
He sinks into you, inch by inch, gently thrusting to get you used to the intrusion.
When he’s almost fully inside of you, Johnny leans over your body, his elbows making contact with the bed on either side of your head so he can be in something of a plank position overtop of you.
You can feel his breath on your face, and you open your eyes to look up at him, your hand moving to cup his cheek while your legs wrap loosely around his waist.
“You can fuck me now,” you tease, grinning at how slow and gentle he’s been up until this point. “Please.”
Johnny presses his lips to yours, and just like that, he begins to move.
Each thrust is unbound pleasure, his hips moving fluidly as he gradually increases his pace. His long cock hits deep spots inside of you that have you crying out, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders while your tongues battle for dominance in the most heated kiss of your life.
He’s moaning too, and it sounds so good- making your pussy even wetter as he decimates it perfectly.
You love the feeling of his large body pressing down against your own, his hard muscles are delightful under your touch when you skim your hand along his shoulders.
He’s steadily increasing the power behind each thrust, and now, the bed is beginning to rock with his movements, delighting you even more.
How can this man have so much raw power, but still be so gentle and careful when it matters most?
You might be a little obsessed with him, but as his massive cock hits your g-spot, you suppose it’s no wonder your feelings are growing at a rapid pace.
He has you cock drunk, in a way that you’ve never experienced in the entirety of your life, and you kind of love it.
“Shit,” Johnny cusses, breaking your kiss so he can press his mouth to your throat. “I never- never asked about protection.”
“I’m covered,” you assure him.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly. “You can cum inside me.”
A deep groan escapes Johnny, and it vibrates through where your chests are pressed together.
“Don’t want to cum like this,” Johnny tells you, “it’s too soon.”
He pulls away, and you whimper when his cock leaves your wet hole. But then Johnny is manhandling you into doggy position, and you let out a moan of pleasure, arching your back and resting your head against the bed.
“You look good like this too,” Johnny muses as he pushes his cock back into you, his hands grabbing your hips roughly. “Always look so good.”
His praise is doing something to you, encouraging you enough to make you begin to move as well, doing your best to match his pace and push back against him with each thrust.
The sound of skin on skin fills the room, and your moans mingle in the air together.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, railing into you even harder. “So fucking tight-”
“I’m close,” you assure him, “just let me-” you slip your hand between your thighs, fingers seeking out your sensitive clit. The moment you make contact, you feel your pussy contract around Johnny’s cock, and it makes you both moan loudly.
“Yeah, want you to cum with me,” Johnny tells you. “Want us to cum together.”
You don’t respond, too focused on your task as you begin to draw small circles around the sensitive bud.
God, nothing has ever felt this good, to be so completely full, while your clit is receiving attention at the same time-
The tension is quickly building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s clear to both of you that you’re rapidly approaching the edge-
“Here,” Johnny’s voice distracts you, and all of the sudden he’s hauling you onto your knees, pinning your back to his chest with an arm braced across your breasts, one hand cupping your boob like a seatbelt. You can feel his breath on your throat, and you quickly turn your head, seeking out his lips with your own.
His free hand pushes yours aside from your clit, applying even more pressure to your sensitive bud as he fucks into you erratically.
God, you feel him absolutely everywhere. You feel like a doll, suspended in time and space while this absolute unit of a man gives you all of the pleasure you could ever ask for, pulling at your strings like an expert.
He’s groaning more deeply- and with one more rough circle of your clit, you feel yourself come undone. You gasp against his lips, core clamping down on his cock-
A strangled sound escapes Johnny, his thrusts becoming even more erratic as he cums with you, coating your throbbing insides with his cum as you both fall off the edge together.
He’s clinging to you in a way a man has never clung to you, and you’re kissing him as if he’s the air you need to breathe. In this moment, it’s only you and him and this feeling of euphoria that you never want to give up.
He fucks you through your high until you’re both a panting mess, and then, he helps you back onto the bed, taking a deep breath.
“I’m going to go get some tissues,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
You can only moan happily, inhaling the scent of pine as you cuddle against his pillow.
Johnny returns shortly, and he hands you some tissues to wipe his cum from your core.
“Should we take another shower or something?” Johnny asks, laughing a little at how messy you both are.
“Cuddles first,” you tell him.
Johnny grins, joining you on his bed, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you. “Cuddles first,” he agrees.
You both take deep breaths, and as your body begins to calm down while pressed against his, you know you made the right choice of man in this fucked up, love island-esque apartment complex that you now call home.
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! This was way longer than I intended, which is why it took a minute to be posted, but I hope it was worth the wait!
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!
🔮 preview. In the summer, Johnny’s not just a blue collar rig man, he’s a dude with friends, tanned skin from his obsession with the sun, and a taste for margaritas while sitting on boats between water skiing stints.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, use of toys, vibrator, nipple clamps, overstimulation, breast worship, use of lube, inklings of pain kink, hand job, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I petnames. (hers) princess
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.8k I teaser wc. 100
🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader
bonus
People sometimes talk about a specific summer in their life being ‘the summer of dreams,’ and you never quite understood what could make one stretch of months so significant- but now, living life with Johnny by your side every day, it makes total sense.
In the few months you’ve been dating, he’s done his best to introduce you to friends, but with such a short time in town, it was always difficult to juggle friends, family, and your growing relationship.
Now that it’s summer, you get to see how Johnny is when he’s just being himself.
☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.8k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here
👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here
🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list
As I was short on time this month and unable to do a teaser, here's another shout out to some of my favourite blogs who interact with my work, I love you guys endlessly
@bobathi - @amazinggraxia - @bluempire425-blog -
@twililty - @cheolaholic - @babieculture
@meowniee - @ridenotpark - @ollieollieoctopus
@axo-l0tl - @blspphr3 - @roseandpeaches
For you I'm all in @guesswhatimthinking - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
