a 1998 born cis pan/queer south asian woman in east asia that predominantly reblogs and sometimes post my own things.
most of the reblogs will be smuts and fluffs (some of which can be dark), mcu+dc+kpop things (yes it’s a personality trait at this point), photos of people i’m a whore for, 18+ stuff, and all things lgbt+.
my own posts are sometimes thoughts/thots, other times it’s something political.
i will not tolerate
racism
sexism
homophobia (of any lgbtqia+ identity)
transphobia
tankies
wumaos
zionists
and if you’re a minor, get off of my page
i won’t hesitate to block you :)
please remember that nuances can, will, and are allowed to exist for a lot of things.
♡ if you need someone to talk to, i’m here to listen. here are international crisis hotlines if you need and want professional help ♡
Summary : When your usual shyness is overpowered by the sight of Yunho in grey sweatpants, a quiet movie night quickly escalates into breathless confessions and you dropping to your knees to be his good girl.
Warnings : explicit sexual content (NSFW), sexual tension, kissing, oral sex (blowjob), cum swallowing, deepthroat, praise kink (heavy use of "good girl," "pretty girl," etc), dom/sub undertones, size difference, grey sweatpants kink (kinda?), dirty talk, aftercare.
A/N : This is literally 8k words of pure sexual tension and smut. Someone send help...
Enjoy! ♡
Two months.
It had only been two months since you and Yunho officially became a couple, yet somehow, he had completely woven himself into the very fabric of your life.
He was, by all definitions, the perfect boyfriend, possessing an incredible, almost dizzying duality.
Most of the time, he was exactly like a giant golden retriever, bubbly, endlessly affectionate, practically vibrating with a bright, contagious energy that could pull you out of your deepest shells. He was sweet, funny and shamelessly adorable, melting your heart with each stare, each soft touch, each peck.
Other times however, without warning, the atmosphere would shift, his playful demeanor turning into something profoundly serious, revealing a smoldering, protective and undeniably sexy side of him. It was a charm that left you breathless every single time.
Because you loved and respected each other deeply, you had both mutually agreed to take things slow, wanting to savor every moment shared together without rushing anything.
You hadn't slept together yet. So far, your physical intimacy had been limited to sweet, lingering kisses, breathless late-night make-out sessions and gentle, sensual touches that always left you craving just a little more. You hadn't crossed that final line yet.
Until tonight.
The two of you were curled up on the couch, the glow of the television illuminating the dark living room as a movie played in the background. You were supposed to be watching a movie, but hadn't absorbed a single scene for the past half hour, your gaze uncontrollably drifting to the man sitting beside you.
Yunho was dressed casually, but for some reason, it was doing absolute numbers on your self-control. He was wearing a thin black tank top that perfectly showcased the broad lines of his chest and shoulders, paired with soft, low-hanging grey sweatpants. Those grey sweatpants. The ones that always made you feel weak in the knees.
Overall, it was an effortlessly domestic look, yet it made him look impossibly hot.
Normally, you were the shy one in the relationship. You were introverted, quiet and known to blush violently whenever he offered you a simple compliment. But tonight, the atmosphere felt thick. A heavy, unfamiliar warmth was pooling in your stomach. You felt a sudden urge to close the distance between you. You wanted him. You wanted to please him, to show him exactly how much he affected you.
Completely lost in a trance, your eyes kept trailing along the strong line of his jaw and down to his chest, ignoring the climax of the film on the screen, before drifting lower.
Now here was the thing. At 6'1, the man was simply huge, dominating the space on your shared sofa. His impossibly long legs were stretched out casually over the rug, one of his large hands resting lazily on his own thigh, those long, elegant fingers lightly drumming against the soft fabric of his sweatpants.
You found your eyes tracking the movement, completely mesmerized by his sheer size.Staring at the way the grey fabric draped over his thick thighs, a sudden, highly intrusive thought hijacked your mind, making a hot flush creep up your neck, wondering what else about him was actually big. And from the way those sweatpants were clinging to his crotch area, it wasn't so difficult to draw a conclusion.
Suddenly, he shifted, feeling the heavy weight of your stare. He slowly turned his head to look at you, catching you completely red-handed. Instead of looking away, a slow smile spread across his handsome face, his eyes gleaming with a mix of deep affection and quiet, playful amusement, making your heart skip a beat.
He shifted his weight, leaning in just a little closer so that you could feel the radiant heat rolling off his skin, voice dropping into a low, velvety register that sent an immediate shiver traveling down your spine.
"Baby... What are you doing?" He murmured softly, nudging your leg gently with his knee. "You're supposed to be paying attention to the movie."
The heat instantly rushed to your cheeks, a crimson flush spreading all the way to the tips of your ears. Being caught staring so shamelessly, especially with the scandalous, heavy direction your thoughts had just taken, left you momentarily speechless.
You swallowed hard, forcing your gaze away from the dangerous territory of his lap and darting your eyes nervously up to his face.
"Uhm..." You mumbled, your voice betraying a slight, nervous tremor. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, the surge of desire from a moment ago suddenly warring with your natural, deep-seated shyness. You looked up at him through your lashes. "Can I... move closer? I wanna cuddle."
Yunho’s smile softened even more, melting into something incredibly tender.
"You never have to ask to come closer, baby. Come here." He murmured, his deep voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
He shifted his large frame back against the cushions, lifting one of his arms to open up the space beside him, his sheer size making the invitation look incredibly inviting.
Hesitantly, but driven by that lingering, restless ache in your stomach, you shimmied across the couch cushions. The moment you were within reach, his large hand gently gripped your waist, effortlessly pulling you flush against his side.
The physical contrast between you was staggering. You felt completely and entirely engulfed by him. His broad chest was a solid wall of heat against your cheek and as you settled against him, his arms wrapping around you securely, one of his large hands tangling lazily in your hair, while the movie continued playing in the background.
Being wrapped so securely in Yunho's arms was overwhelming in the best way possible, your senses completely flooded by the scent of his cologne and the steady thumping of his heart against your ear.
For a few minutes, you tried to just lay there and be good. But driven by that heavy, unfamiliar warmth pooling in your stomach, your hand betrayed your usual shyness. You simply couldn't help yourself.
Slowly, your fingers unfurled against his abdomen. Through the thin, soft cotton of his black tank top, you could feel the firm, defined ridges of his stomach muscles. You began to stroke him gently, tracing the hard lines of his torso, your palm pressing flat to absorb the radiant heat of his skin beneath the fabric.
The boldness of your own action sent a jolt straight to your core. Your breath hitched, suddenly coming out in shallow, uneven pants and your teeth sank nervously into your lower lip as you continued the soft, entirely out-of-character caress.
Yunho noticed the immediate change in your breathing, his fingers suddenly pausing their soothing rhythm in your hair. He tilted his head down to look at you, his brow furrowing slightly with a mix of quiet curiosity and surprise.
"Baby? You okay?"
His voice was soft, laced with a deep concern that made your heart skip a beat. Shifting his weight, his massive hand moved from the back of your hair to gently cup your flushed cheek.
"Y-yes, baby." You stammered, swallowing hard as a fresh, fiery wave of heat flooded your cheeks. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong, sweetheart." Yunho smiled gently, his sharp eyes immediately recognizing your shy, flustered behavior. He could feel how incredibly submissive you were acting, how unusually needy and desperate your small hand felt as it continued to rest against his stomach. "Just noticing you're behaving very... clingy today."
His large hand shifted, his rough thumb and forefinger carefully capturing your bottom lip, gently but firmly tugging the swollen flesh free from your teeth.
"Why are you biting your lip so hard, pretty girl?"
The way he was talking to you, the low, velvety register of his voice, the sudden use of that breathless nickname, the dark, intense way his eyes were locked onto yours, almost made a quiet whimper slip past your parted lips. Your breath grew noticeably heavier, your chest rising and falling rapidly against his side.
The heavy ache in your stomach flared into a burning, undeniable need. The tension was suffocating. You wanted him so desperately. You wanted to slide down from the couch, sink to your knees and suck him off so badly. You just wanted to be a good girl for him, to submit completely and make your perfect, patient boyfriend feel as incredibly good as possible.
His eyes darkened visibly, the warm brown turning almost entirely black as he watched the sudden, heavy shift in your expression. He didn't miss a single detail, not the way your breath hitched erratically in your chest, nor the subtle, desperate way your thighs pressed tight together beneath the folds of your clothes. The air between you felt suddenly charged, thick with an unspoken tension.
With a firm but incredibly gentle touch, he hooked his large index finger under your chin, tilting your head up and completely stripping away your ability to hide from him. He forced you to meet his unwavering, intense gaze.
"What are you thinking about, hm?" He murmured, voice dropping even lower, shedding its previous playful warmth for a register that was rough and intimate. His thumb continued its slow, mesmerizing sweep across your swollen lower lip.
"N-nothing, baby." You stammered, swallowing hard against the tight knot in your throat.
Unable to handle the sheer intensity of his stare any longer, you completely melted against him. You broke eye contact and ducked your head, burying your furiously blushing face deep into the crook of his neck. You nuzzled into his warm skin, seeking refuge, your hands gripping the soft fabric of his tank top as if anchoring yourself in a storm.
But Yunho knew you far too well. After two months of learning your every quirk, boundary and habit, he knew you were a terrible liar, especially when your natural, submissive tendencies kicked in this intensely. He could read the unspoken language of your body perfectly.
A low, knowing hum rumbled deep in his broad chest, vibrating pleasantly against your cheek where you were pressed into his neck.
"Mhm... pretty girl." He soothed, his tone softening back into a warm, heavy blanket of reassurance, though the dominant edge never left it. His large hand slid to the back of your head, his long fingers stroking slowly and rhythmically through your hair, while his other arm held you impossibly close, his hand rubbing wide, comforting circles across your lower back. He could feel every tiny, erratic vibration of your body against his massive frame. "You're trembling, sweetheart. You can tell me."
A soft, frustrated groan vibrated against the sensitive skin of his neck as you squeezed your eyes shut. The confession felt entirely too heavy on your tongue, your face burning so hot you thought you might melt right there.
"It's... it's embarrassing." You whispered, the words barely audible as you nuzzled even further into his warmth, desperately trying to hide from his piercing gaze.
"There is nothing to be embarrassed about with me." Yunho replied instantly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He shifted his large frame, the movement adjusting your positioning so you were pulled even tighter against him. His massive hands, always so incredibly gentle despite their intimidating strength, slid slowly up from your waist, his long fingers splaying wide across your ribs to hold you securely.
"Do you need something, baby? Tell me." His voice was a warm, patient rumble that vibrated pleasantly against your chest. "Whatever it is..." He promised, his tone thick with devotion. "I'll take care of you."
You swallowed hard, trying to push past the thick, overwhelming knot of nerves in your throat. Gathering every single ounce of courage you possessed, you slowly pulled back from the absolute safety of his neck. You forced yourself to look at him properly, your chest heaving with shallow breaths as you met his eyes.
"I..." You started, but the single word just hung awkwardly in the heavy air between you, your voice immediately faltering under the weight of his dark, intense stare.
Yunho didn't rush you. He simply watched you intently, the deep affection in his eyes giving you all the space and quiet you needed to gather your thoughts. With agonizing tenderness, he reached up, his large hand completely cupping the side of your face. He carefully brushed a loose strand of hair away from your forehead, his thumb coming to rest against your burning cheek. His patience was infinite. He had spent the last two months learning the intricate map of your mind and he knew exactly how hard you were fighting your own shyness right now.
"Take your time, sweetheart." He murmured softly, his thumb sweeping back and forth in a slow, soothing rhythm over your cheekbone. His voice was a calm, steady anchor in the storm of your racing nerves. "I'm right here."
The words finally tumbled out before you could lose your nerve, your voice trembling and dropping until it was barely a fragile whisper.
"I... I wanna taste you, baby."
The confession hung in the dim living room, heavy and intoxicating. Once the dam broke, you simply couldn't stop.
"I wanna be a good girl for you. Make you feel so good." You breathed out, your chest heaving with soft, erratic pants. The sheer intensity of your own need was completely overwhelming, forcing you to subconsciously squeeze your thighs tight together in a desperate attempt to chase away the deep, hollow ache throbbing at your core. "Please, baby."
Yunho went entirely still. A sharp, audible hitch broke past his lips as his breath caught violently in his throat.
The transformation was instantaneous. Whatever remnants of the bubbly, gentle golden retriever were left instantly vanished, replaced entirely by something dark, hungry and dangerously dominant. His warm eyes darkened until they were almost pitch-black, completely blown out with a sudden, possessive desire. He had spent the last two months treating you like fragile glass, patiently learning your shy, quiet nature, so hearing his sweet, timid girlfriend openly beg to be a good girl for him completely shattered his careful restraint.
Slowly, deliberately, his large hand slid from your burning cheek. His long, calloused fingers trailed down your jawline before wrapping firmly around the back of your neck. It wasn't painful, not even close, but it was undeniably possessive, a heavy, anchoring grip that laid claim to you right there on the spot. His thumb pressed perfectly against the rapid, frantic fluttering of your pulse.
"You've been staring at me this whole time, haven't you?" He rasped. His voice was completely stripped of its usual smooth warmth, dropping into a low, incredibly husky register that vibrated straight through your bones and settled heavily in your stomach.
You couldn't look away from him if you tried. Trapped beautifully under his intense gaze and the firm, claiming grip on your neck, you melted completely into his hold.
"Yes." You breathed out, utterly mesmerized by the man in front of you. Your hands instinctively slid up to flatten against his broad, muscular chest, feeling the wild, heavy pounding of his heart beneath the black tank top. Your voice softened, laced with pure, unfiltered adoration. "You're so beautiful, Yuyu."
Yunho's breath caught audibly for a second time. Hearing that sweet, affectionate nickname slip past your lips, paired with such a raw, desperate confession, did incredible things to his ego.
He looked down at you, his broad chest rising and falling heavily beneath your small palms. The firm grip he had on the back of your neck gentled just a fraction, his thumb sweeping soothingly over the frantic beating of your pulse.
"Look at you... my shy, innocent baby." He murmured, the rough, husky timbre of his voice wrapping around you like a vice. He leaned down, pressing a profoundly tender, lingering kiss to the center of your forehead, offering a beautiful, dizzying contrast to the heavy, dominant energy rolling off his large frame. "Wanting to be on her knees for me?"
A helpless, high-pitched whimper tore from your throat. You couldn't even form a proper sentence. The sheer image his deep voice painted in your mind was too much to handle. You bit down fiercely on your lower lip, your eyes fluttering shut as you completely melted under his touch, a fresh, heavy wave of heat pooling in your core.
"Yes" You breathed out, the single word surrendering entirely to him.
Yunho’s gaze devoured your flushed face, his eyes flashing with a possessive, dark heat that made your breath stutter all over again. A low groan of approval rumbled in his chest as he slowly pulled back just enough to give you space, his hand sliding away from your neck.
"Then be a good girl and get between my legs." He commanded softly, shifting his massive frame back against the deep cushions of the couch, deliberately spreading his long, muscular legs wide open to create a space meant entirely for you. The movement pulled the soft grey fabric of his sweatpants taut, doing absolutely nothing to hide the thick, impressive bulge heavily resting beneath it. It was a glaring, intimidating visual of exactly how much you were affecting him, completely stealing the breath from your lungs.
Despite the dark, overwhelming hunger swimming in his eyes, his demeanor remained incredibly patient. He didn't rush you. Instead, he reached out, his large hands gently guiding your shoulders to help you slide down from the cushions, his deep voice melting into a steady, velvety hum of pure encouragement.
"Show me how much you want to please me, angel."
Without a single second of hesitation, your knees hit the soft rug. The sheer relief of finally giving in to your craving washed over you, overriding every last ounce of your natural shyness. You moved right into the space he had created for you, completely enclosed by his long, muscular legs.
Driven by pure instinct and that overwhelming need to please, you leaned forward. You pressed your flushed face directly against his thick bulge, nuzzling affectionately against the soft grey fabric just like a needy, touch-starved kitten desperately seeking warmth and approval.
A deep, incredibly guttural groan tore from his throat the absolute second you made contact. His broad shoulders visibly shuddered. Your immediate, unquestioning obedience was a massive rush for him. His large hands instantly abandoned their place on his lap, eagerly finding their way into your hair. His long fingers threaded deeply through the strands, gently gripping your scalp as he held you exactly where he wanted you.
"Good girl..." He breathed out, the praise rough and heavily saturated with desire. Completely involuntarily, his hips jerked forward, chasing the soft friction of your cheek and pressing his heavy heat even firmer against you.
As he moved, the true reality of the situation suddenly registered in your mind. The texture against your cheek... there were no layers. No thick waistband or extra cotton of boxer briefs. Just the dangerously thin, single layer of his sweatpants acting as a meager barrier between you and his bare skin.
You gasped softly, your breath ghosting hot through the fabric against his lap as your eyes widened in shock.
"B-baby?" You stuttered, your voice trembling with a mix of awe and pure scandal. "You're... you're not wearing boxers?"
A low, dark chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating all the way down to where you were pressed against him. His grip in your hair tightened just a fraction, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you exactly who was in control, sending a fresh spike of heat straight to your core.
"No, baby girl." He purred, the deep timbre of his voice laced with sinful amusement. "Just these sweatpants."
Because he was entirely bare underneath, the thin grey fabric was practically clinging to him, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. You were given a terrifyingly clear, vivid outline of just how large he truly was. He was impossibly thick and heavy, the rigid, imposing length of him pressing flush against the soft material, radiating a feverish heat that burned against your skin. And right at the very peak, a small, dark, faint wet spot was already beginning to form, slowly staining the light grey fabric, undeniable visual proof of exactly how much your submissive attention was turning him on.
Yunho tilted his head back against the couch, looking down at you through half-lidded, incredibly dark eyes. A wicked, devastatingly hot smirk played on his beautiful lips as his thumb slowly stroked your cheekbone.
"You've been staring at this, hm?"
"N-no..." You stammered, the blatant, desperate lie completely failing to convince either of you as your face burned hot enough to rival the sun. A deep crimson flush spread uncontrollably across your cheeks and all the way down to your collarbones.
Yunho didn't buy it for a single second. A rich, incredibly soft laugh rumbled deep in his broad chest, the sound wrapping around you like a heavy, velvet blanket. He shifted his hand, his rough thumb sweeping affectionately over the burning apple of your flushed cheek.
"Liar." He murmured, his voice dripping with dark, fond amusement.
To emphasize his point, his hips suddenly rocked forward with deliberate intent. The slow, incredibly deliberate thrust pressed the thick, rigid head of his arousal directly against your parted lips. The ridiculously thin, already damp layer of his sweatpants was the only thing preventing skin-to-skin contact, making the intimate friction feel incredibly intense.
"You kept looking. I noticed, sweetheart." He breathed out, the teasing lilt in his voice morphing back into that heavy, intoxicating register. "My little innocent girl... being so completely naughty without even knowing it."
His fingers flexed, tightening their grip in the roots of your hair just enough to send a thrilling, electric jolt straight down your spine.
A helpless, muffled whimper vibrated against his lap. Completely overwhelmed by the intense heat and the sheer size of him pressing against your mouth, your hands instinctively flew down to his legs. Your small palms flattened against his massive thighs, your trembling fingers beginning to stroke and knead the solid, unyielding muscle beneath the grey cotton in a desperate, soothing rhythm.
"It's not my fault..." You whined softly, looking up at him through your lashes with a deep, frustrated pout, your swollen bottom lip jutting out adorably. "I can see everything when you wear these."
The sight of you kneeling perfectly between his legs, desperately shifting the blame onto his wardrobe while simultaneously stroking his thighs with such undeniable need, was almost too much for him to handle. Another dark, raspy chuckle escaped his lips. He found your defensive little pout absolutely devastating.
Underneath your small, delicate hands, his thighs felt like solid, unmovable marble. The way he was sitting and breathing caused the soft grey fabric to stretch impossibly tight over his impressive length, creating a glorious, terrifyingly defined silhouette of the very problem you were complaining about.
"Mmm... is that so?" He hummed, his deep voice vibrating with a thrilling mixture of heavy dominance and pure adoration.
His large hand gave a firm, deliberate tug on the thick handful of hair he held, easily coercing you to abandon your delicious resting place against his lap. He tilted your head all the way back, exposing the long, sensitive column of your throat and forcing you to look up and meet his dark, burning gaze from your vulnerable position on the floor.
"You wear them on purpose, don't you?" You whispered, your voice trembling as you kept your gaze locked with his. Your pout deepened, a mix of pure frustration and overwhelming desire. "You just... you wanna tease me."
A dangerous, incredibly wicked gleam flashed in his dark eyes, all traces of the sweet, innocent boyfriend vanishing completely. A slow, devastatingly arrogant smirk spread across his handsome face. He wasn't even going to try and deny it.
"Maybe..." He admitted without a single ounce of shame. "Does it work, baby? The way they show absolutely everything?"
To prove his point, his hips rolled forward again, a slow, agonizingly deliberate thrust that pressed the heavy, rigid outline of him right against the seam of your parted lips. The sheer heat radiating through the thin grey cotton was dizzying.
You swallowed hard, completely entirely defeated by him. You couldn't fight it anymore. Driven by a blind, desperate need to make him feel good, you parted your lips further and finally gave in.
Without waiting for him to strip the sweatpants away, you began to mouth at him right through the thin, damp fabric. Your hot breath seeped into the cotton as you tentatively opened your mouth over the broad head of his arousal, your tongue darting out to trace the thick, prominent outline of him through the material.
The absolute second the wet heat of your mouth enveloped him through the fabric, Yunho shattered.
A deep, ragged groan ripped from the bottom of his chest, the sound rough and entirely primal. He could feel every single desperate swipe of your tongue, the fabric clinging perfectly to his skin and amplifying the slick friction.
He completely abandoned any attempt at teasing or holding back. He simply let you take over, his body melting into the cushions completely at your mercy.
"Fuck... there you go." He rasped out, his voice thick and heavy with unadulterated pleasure. "There you go, good girl..."
His head fell heavily back against the backrest of the couch, exposing the thick column of his throat as his eyes fluttered completely shut. His chest heaved with shallow, erratic breaths, his large hand tightening reflexively in your hair to gently guide your frantic, desperate movements as you worked so eagerly to please him.
A soft, needy hum vibrated in the back of your throat as you pressed your face even harder against his aching heat. The friction of the damp fabric against your lips was maddening, but it wasn't enough. You were entirely consumed by the scent of him, the radiant warmth of his skin, and the desperate, overwhelming urge to finally taste him.
"Baby..." You whimpered against his lap, your hands gripping his thick thighs tight as you blindly chased the friction.
"Shhh... I know, sweetheart." Yunho soothed, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that washed over you.
His large hand remained a comforting, heavy weight on the back of your head, his long fingers gently tangling in your hair and stroking your scalp to ground you. He let you mouth at him for another agonizing moment before he spoke again.
"You're doing so well."
His head rolled forward, his dark eyes looking down at the beautiful, completely wrecked picture you painted kneeling between his legs. His broad chest heaved with shallow, uneven breaths, his heart hammering wildly beneath his ribs as he watched your flushed face press flush against his thick bulge.
"My needy girl..." He rasped, his thumb sweeping behind your ear. "What do you want, baby?"
Your breath hitched, the question wrapping around your fragile restraint and pulling it completely taut. You looked up at him through your lashes, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Take them off." You begged, your voice breathless and trembling with pure, unfiltered need. "Please."
But instead of granting your desperate plea, Yunho went entirely still. The indulgent, pliant boyfriend vanished, replaced by a wall of absolute, unyielding dominance.
"I'm not moving until you tell me exactly what you want to do, pretty girl." He commanded softly.
He kept his tone incredibly gentle, yet there was a dangerous, firm edge to it that left absolutely zero room for argument. His hand slid smoothly from the back of your hair down to your jawline, his long fingers hooking firmly under your chin. With a slow, deliberate pressure, he tilted your head up, completely severing your contact with his lap and forcing you to meet his intense, burning gaze.
"Be very specific." He whispered, his eyes dropping briefly to your thoroughly kissed, swollen lips before locking onto your eyes once again. "Use your words like a good girl."
"Wanna... wanna taste you, baby." You breathed out softly, the last of your resistance melting away as your face heated up entirely, burning a brilliant, furious red. "Wanna suck you off."
The absolute second the words left your lips, Yunho’s eyes darkened into a bottomless, hungry pitch. The raw submission in your voice was the exact undoing he had been waiting for. A ragged, heavy exhale punched out of his chest and without another word, he slowly lifted his hips off the cushion.
His large hands gripped the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing the thick cotton down just enough to finally free himself from the suffocating confinement. He sprang loose instantly, thick, unyielding and incredibly heavy against his thighs, the swollen tip already weeping thick drops of pre-cum in eager anticipation.
"There you go, baby girl." He rasped, his voice dropping an octave deeper as his hands returned to your hair, gently but firmly guiding your head back down to face him.
A sharp, audible gasp tore from your throat. Seeing the outline of him through the fabric was one thing, but seeing his bare length completely exposed in the dim light of the living room was something else entirely. He was way bigger than you had ever expected,so unbelievably thick and imposing. Pretty, flushed pink skin was wrapped tight around him, mapped heavily with thick veins that pulsed with his rapid heartbeat.
He was utterly flawless. So big, so hard, so beautiful. Just like the rest of him, everything about this man was absolute perfection.
Yunho immediately noticed your stunned awe. He watched as your pupils blew wide, completely swallowing your irises and your jaw practically dropped open.
A low hum vibrated deep in his throat.
"There's my pretty girl..." He murmured softly. His large hand slid down to tenderly stroke your flushed cheek, completely aware that you were short-circuiting right in front of him. "See something you like, sweetheart?"
A helpless, high-pitched whimper slipped past your parted lips. You completely surrendered to the moment, leaning heavily into the warm, comforting touch of his palm against your cheek, your eyes never leaving his magnificent length.
"Yes." You breathed out, your voice trembling with pure, unfiltered adoration. "So beautiful, Yuyu."
Yunho’s broad chest heaved as a violent shudder wrecked through his massive frame. Hearing you call him beautiful, looking up at him with such sweet, desperate devotion while kneeling submissively between his spread thighs, shattered the very last fragment of his composure.
"Go ahead then baby." He whispered, his voice incredibly rough and textured, entirely stripped of its usual playful warmth. His thumb slipped down from your cheek, gently pressing against your lower lip to coax your mouth open wider. "Taste me, angel."
Driven by a primal, burning need that completely eclipsed your shyness, you finally closed the distance. Your heart hammered a frantic, deafening rhythm against your ribs as you leaned in. The radiant heat coming off his bare skin was absolute fire against your face.
Tentatively, your tongue darted out, trembling as it made the very first agonizing contact. You dragged the wet, soft muscle slowly up the thick, veined underside of his shaft, right up to the flushed, heavy peak, delicately collecting the clear drop of pre-cum waiting for you there.
The absolute second your tongue swiped over his most sensitive spot, Yunho completely lost his mind.
His hips violently bucked off the couch, chasing your mouth with a desperate, involuntary thrust as a deep, guttural curse ripped from his throat. His head tipped entirely back, exposing the thick cords of his neck while his fingers clenched tight into the roots of your hair, anchoring you exactly where you belonged.
"Fuck... yes." He groaned, his voice completely raw and broken, his broad thighs trembling slightly under your hands. "Just like that, baby. Exactly like that."
The sudden, violent jerk of his hips took you by surprise, but the raw, unfiltered sound of his pleasure was an absolute drug. Hearing that deep, guttural groan completely obliterated any lingering trace of your hesitation. You were entirely consumed by the desperate need to draw more of those beautiful sounds from him.
You parted your lips wider, tilting your head to finally take him in. The sheer, intimidating size of him made it a slow, deliberate process. As the broad, flushed head of his shaft pushed past your teeth and pressed against your tongue, an overwhelming, incredible sense of fullness stretched your mouth. He was so thick that you could barely wrap your lips around him, but the challenge only fueled your determination.
Yunho hissed violently through his teeth, his entire massive frame going completely rigid the second your hot, slick heat enveloped him. His long fingers flexed, gripping the roots of your hair with a possessive strength that sent a thrill straight to your core.
Despite the wild, bucking instinct of his hips just moments prior, he forced himself to hold agonizingly still. He was fighting a brutal war with his own self-control, his broad chest heaving as he let you adjust to his massive size at your own pace.
"Fuck..." He breathed out, the word trembling on his lips. "Take your time, baby. I'm right here. You're doing so fucking good."
Encouraged by his heavy praise, you swallowed thickly, letting your head bob down just a fraction more. You swirled your tongue around the thick ridge of his tip, simultaneously applying a soft, desperate suction. The slick, wet sound of your mouth working against his skin echoed loudly in the quiet living room, a deeply filthy, beautiful noise that made the solid muscles of his thighs tremble violently beneath your small hands.
Yunho couldn't tear his eyes away from you. He looked down through heavy, half-lidded eyes, completely mesmerized by the devastating picture you painted. His sweet, painfully shy girlfriend was kneeling flawlessly between his spread legs, completely at his mercy. The way your cheeks hollowed out slightly with every eager pull of your mouth, the way your soft hands kneaded his thighs and the way your beautiful eyes gazed up at him through your lashes with such pure, unadulterated devotion, it was enough to make a lesser man completely lose his mind.
"That's it, pretty girl." He praised, his voice dropping into a broken, breathy rasp that washed over you like liquid gold. His thumb swept down to heavily trace the shell of your ear, grounding you in the intense sensation. "Take all of me, angel. Show me how much you love me."
You hummed against his hot skin, the vibration sending another violent shudder through his long legs. You slowly pulled back until he almost slipped past your lips, dragging your tongue along his sensitive underside one more time, before sinking back down, taking him just a little bit deeper than before.
The rhythm was tentative but incredibly eager. Every time your lips slid down his thick length, Yunho’s grip in your hair tightened, his hips involuntarily twitching upward to meet your mouth.
"God, baby... you feel so good." He groaned, his head falling back heavily against the couch once more. He surrendered entirely to your sweet, desperate efforts, his hands guiding your head in a slow, agonizingly perfect rhythm. "My good girl. My perfect, needy little girl. Don't stop."
A soft, muffled hum vibrated deep in your chest, fueled entirely by the heavy, intoxicating sound of his praise. The sheer desperation in his voice gave you a sudden rush of confidence. You didn't just want to make him feel good anymore. You wanted to completely ruin him. You wanted to give him a feeling he would never, ever forget.
Taking a slow breath through your nose, you deliberately relaxed your jaw. Carefully minding your teeth, you pushed past your own natural hesitation, letting your head slide down, down, down. You took him impossibly deeper, swallowing his impressive, intimidating length all the way to the very back of your throat, until your nose pressed flush against the warm, solid plane of his pelvic bone.
And you kept him there.
The absolute second you buried him completely, a ragged, completely broken moan tore from Yunho’s throat. It was a visceral, entirely unguarded sound that echoed loudly in the quiet room. His broad chest violently arched off the cushions, completely overwhelmed by the maddening sensation of being fully and tightly sheathed in your scalding warmth.
To add to his sweet torment, you swallowed eagerly around his thick girth, your throat muscles rhythmically tightening and relaxing in a desperate bid to taste him. At the same time, your small hand slid down from his thigh, your fingers reaching between his legs to gently, rhythmically knead his heavy, sensitive balls.
"Oh my god..."
The words punched out of him like a prayer. His head fell completely back over the edge of the couch, his eyes blindly staring up at the ceiling as his brain entirely short-circuited. His hips jerked upward in a sharp, involuntary thrust, completely unable to fight the primal instinct driving his body.
The combination of your warm throat swallowing around his thickest part and your soft hand working beneath him was absolutely lethal. It was too much. It was too perfect. This beautiful, incredibly shy girl who usually blushed at a simple compliment was currently devoting herself to him with such filthy, eager perfection.
A choked, desperate sound ripped from his chest, something perfectly caught between a sharp gasp and a helpless sob. All of his dominant composure completely shattered into pieces.
Yet, even in the absolute peak of his mind-numbing pleasure, his golden-retriever nature bled through. His large hands didn't push you down harder or grip you painfully. Instead, his long fingers simply threaded into your hair, his palms tenderly cupping the sides of your head with agonizing gentleness, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
"Ah... baby, baby-"
His voice was a raw, breathless plea, completely breaking in the middle. His solid hips bucked upward against your mouth again, a violent, involuntary spasm of pure, unadulterated ecstasy as his thick thighs trembled against your arms.
"Too much, sweetheart... fuck, it's too much."
A muffled, incredibly needy hum vibrated against his overly sensitive skin as you completely ignored his desperate, breathless state. Instead of slowing down, you tightened your throat and sucked even harder, fully aware that you had pushed him right to the absolute brink.
The combination of your soft hum vibrating against him, the relentless, tight suction and the agonizingly perfect pressure of your throat was the final strike. It completely shattered the last remaining fraction of his control.
A sudden, frantic instinct kicked in. He tried to pull his hips back, his broad chest heaving as he desperately tried to retreat. He didn't want to come in your mouth without warning, especially not with you taking him so incredibly deep. But your small hands firmly gripped his thick thighs, holding him flush against your face and completely refusing to let him escape.
The dam finally broke.
A sharp, involuntary choke escaped you as thick, heavy ropes of cum suddenly erupted, spilling violently against the very back of your throat. It was entirely overwhelming, completely flooding your senses. Yet, driven by that blind, burning devotion to please him, you refused to pull away. You squeezed your eyes shut, a soft, muffled moan vibrating against him as you tasted his musky, salty flavor for the very first time, bravely forcing yourself to swallow as much of him as you possibly could.
Yunho’s entire massive frame locked up rigidly. A deep, guttural roar of pure, unadulterated release ripped from his chest, echoing loudly off the walls of the living room. The thick, veined length of his arousal pulsed wildly, throbbing hard and heavy against your tongue as he shot down your throat in thick, desperate, endless spurts.
His large hands trembled violently in your hair, completely drained of their immense strength. He couldn't even form a coherent thought, completely paralyzed by the mind-numbing ecstasy. He watched you through a heavily blurred, hazy vision, his heart hammering against his ribs as he watched his beautiful, shy girlfriend swallow, and swallow, and swallow, trying so incredibly bravely to take every single drop of him.
"Fuck... take it, baby." He choked out, his voice utterly wrecked, broken and heavily saturated with awe. His thumb weakly stroked your cheek, entirely mesmerized by your devotion. "Good girl."
"Mmmph..."
A soft, eager sound of agreement slipped past your lips as you swallowed down the heavy mouthful. As his frantic, violent pulses slowly began to subside into softer twitches, you still didn't pull away. Instead, you relaxed your jaw just a fraction and began to bob your head once again.
The rhythm was agonizingly slow and gentle this time. You dragged your wet tongue soothingly over his hypersensitive, flushed skin, tenderly cleaning up the messy aftermath and capturing every last stray drop. It was an act of pure, sweet adoration that provided a staggering contrast to the filthy, desperate way you had completely undone him only moments before.
Yunho completely melted into the cushions, his broad chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. Every single muscle in his massive frame was still twitching from the sheer, blinding intensity of his release. When his dark, blown-out eyes finally managed to focus, they found you with a staggering mixture of profound awe and total disbelief. He could barely process it. His sweet, impossibly shy girlfriend had just taken him entirely down her throat, swallowed him whole and was now tenderly cleaning him up as if it were the most natural, beautiful thing in the world.
"Pretty girl..." He rasped, the words tumbling out of him in a completely wrecked, breathy exhale.
With a wet, incredibly filthy pop that echoed loudly in the quiet room, you finally pulled your mouth away. You lingered for just a second, pressing one last, profoundly soft and reverent kiss to the very tip of his flushed arousal, before trailing your lips down to press another gentle kiss to the heavily corded muscle of his thick thigh.
Yunho’s eyes fluttered closed at the sweet, worshipping touches, a long, shaky sigh leaving his parted lips. Slowly, you crawled up his massive frame, straddling his lap to bridge the distance between you. As you leaned in to press a series of soft, tentative kisses to his mouth, his large hands immediately reached up. His long fingers tenderly cupped your flushed cheeks, holding you steady as he pulled you in for a much deeper, demanding kiss. He tilted your head, his hot tongue sliding smoothly past your lips, desperately chasing the intoxicating, musky taste of his own release lingering on your tongue.
All of your remaining shyness completely evaporated in the intimate aftermath. You melted against his broad chest, returning the kiss with a messy, uninhibited fervor. It was incredibly sloppy, completely full of heat, deep tongue and slick spit as your mouths crashed together over and over again, completely desperate for each other.
One of his large hands slid from your cheek to firmly cup the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you impossibly closer, drinking in every single sloppy, wet sound of your mouths moving together.
Eventually, completely breathless and dizzy, he broke the kiss just enough to let you both drag in oxygen. He didn't let you go far, keeping his large hands anchored protectively on you as he rested his forehead heavily against yours.
"My good girl..." He breathed out against your thoroughly swollen, slick lips, his voice thick with a heavy, unconditional devotion, his chest still rising and falling rapidly against yours. "My perfect, perfect girl."
You shifted slightly on his lap, your hands resting flat against the solid, rapidly beating warmth of his chest. The heavy, intoxicating haze of lust was slowly beginning to recede, leaving behind a profound vulnerability. Looking up at him through your lashes, a sudden wave of your usual, quiet shyness crept back in.
"Did I do good, baby?" You ask, your voice breathless and impossibly small.
Yunho’s heart absolutely melted at the question. It was staggering to him, the fact that you could be so unsure of yourself, seeking his approval even after completely reducing him to a trembling, mindless mess on his own couch.
He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was entirely different from the messy, desperate one before. This one was incredibly soft, slow and overwhelmingly sweet. When he finally pulled back, his large hands moved to completely cup your face, his thumbs resting gently on your cheeks. He made sure you were looking directly into his dark, endlessly fond eyes when he spoke.
"You did amazing, sweetheart." He murmured, his voice a warm, heavy rumble of pure sincerity. His thumbs began to slowly stroke the heated skin of your flushed cheeks. "So incredibly good for me..."
A soft, helpless sound, something close to a mewl, vibrated in the back of your throat. Completely melting under the weight of his heavy praise, you leaned your face deeply into the warm, calloused palm of his hand, seeking his comfort just like a touch-starved kitten.
A beautiful, blindingly bright smile broke across Yunho’s handsome face. The dark, dominant aura that had consumed him moments ago completely vanished, instantly replaced by his sunny, golden-retriever adoration. He absolutely worshipped the way you preened under his praise.
Unable to resist, he surged forward, showering your face in a flurry of tender, affectionate kisses. He pressed his soft lips to your forehead, the tip of your nose and both of your burning cheeks, treating you with the utmost reverence, as if you were the most fragile, precious thing in the entire world.
"My sweet, perfect girl." He murmured against your skin between kisses.
You let your eyes flutter shut, completely basking in the overwhelming warmth of his affection. After a moment, you peeked up at him, a soft, tired pout forming on your lips. "Can we cuddle now?"
"Absolutely, angel." He agreed instantly, his deep voice laced with immediate devotion.
With effortless strength, he adjusted his clothes before wrapping his massive arms securely around you. He shifted your positioning so that you were tucked entirely flush against his chest, completely engulfed by his imposing frame. Reaching over with one long arm, he grabbed the thick, fuzzy blanket draped over the back of the couch and pulled it tightly over the two of you, creating a warm, secluded little cocoon.
He blanketed you in a fresh wave of sweet kisses, pressing them into your hair and against your temple.
"My baby gets all the cuddles she wants." He hummed, his large hand settling between your shoulder blades and beginning to rub your back in slow, agonizingly soothing motions. "There's my good girl."
A soft, musical chuckle escaped you as you nuzzled your cheek against the soft cotton of his black tank top, feeling the steady thumping of his heart beneath your ear.
"You're spoiling me now." You teased quietly.
Yunho’s chest rumbled with a low, happy laugh. He tightened his arms around you, squeezing you affectionately as he pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head.
"You deserve to be spoiled, baby girl." He murmured, his tone entirely serious despite the gentle, rhythmic strokes of his hand running up and down your spine. "Especially after how incredibly well you just took care of me." He nuzzled his face deep into your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo, utterly content. "Besides... I love taking care of my pretty girl."
And before you knew it, you fell asleep in his arms, feeling loved, cherished and protected.
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ; Headcanons on how I view Yunho as a priest.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ; Priest!Yunho x Fem!Reader.
☆ — 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 365. ☆ — 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : Smut — TABOO. ☆ — 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Blasphemy, petnames, jealousy, clit rubbing, dacryphilia, rosary, kisses, masturbation (m!rec), fantasizing, kneeling, oral (f!rec), choking, doggy style, use of the words father and lord, and a creampie.
♡ — 𝐕𝐢𝐩 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ; @kissmatz @eggielix @miisanthropology @liaaaafixofff @chanscappuccino @eunseoksgirl @threepointstogrifendor @mingkisdoll @groovyravenagain @matznana @smuttaburger @barbtiny @yeosangholic1 @maliabobea15 @pyuddings @mourninglizzy @joonginism @m4rs-m00ni3 @sangieholic send a ask to be added or removed!
A/N — Absolutely exhausted, so if it’s bad. It’s bad. I apologize for that, you’re just gonna have to see the vision with it.
Priest!yunho who looks at you a little too long during service, trying his best to hide his smirk. Knowing more than well enough to not be crushing on a church girl.
Priest!yunho who always calls you ‘angel baby’ whenever he’s speaking of you or even to you.
Priest!yunho who rests his hand on your thigh when he’s consoling you, slowly inching his way up until he reaches your panties. Looking at you with adoration instead of lust.
Priest!yunho who gets more so jealous whenever he sees another guy even being kind towards you. He wants to be the center of your focus at all times.
Priest!yunho who slowly rubs your clit through your panties while you’re vulnerable enough to cry during your counseling, offering you ‘physical support.’ He gets needy whenever you cry.
Priest!yunho who gifts you his most personal rosary, gently cupping your face and pressing lingering kisses on each of your cheeks before settling on your lips.
— “Speak up.” “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.” “Nothing is sweeter than our gentle sins, my angel.”
Priest!yunho who jerks off every single time you’re visiting for confessions, biting his palm to keep himself quiet.
Priest!yunho who watches your throat whenever you swallow during communion hours, thinking about how good your mouth would feel around his cock.
Priest!yunho who makes you kneel at his feet to pray, feeling his cock twitch in his pants at the sight. Gripping your hair a little too tight, but he doesn’t care. He needs you to know how much he craves you.
Priest!yunho who asks you to stay behind after mass, just to end up spread out in a pew with his face buried between your thighs while making you read your Bible out loud.
Priest!yunho who wraps his rosary around your neck to choke you with while fucking you from behind, telling you how good you feel over and over like it’s the only thing his brain can focus on.
Priest!yunho who moans loudly ‘Forgive me Lord, but I need my angel’ as he cums deep inside you so hard that your own toes curl up.
summary: Your roommate Mingi is shy and nerdy until you find out he secretly stalks you.
word count: 1.2k
warnings: puppy as a pet name, depictions of stalking, unprotected sex
a/n: happy valentines <3 part 5 of the roommates series
It started when Mingi tripped and you rushed to his aide, instead of laughing at him like your classmates.
When you posted a flyer on campus that said you were looking for a roommate, it became destiny.
Obsessed was an understatement when it came to you. And after moving in, the feeling only intensified. In this new environment he was surrounded by you. Your scent, your voice, and the constant sight of you.
Yes, he's a bit of a stalker.
One day, you return from class with a package addressed to Mingi. It's heavy, probably some tech stuff for the computer science major. "Hey Mingi your nerd stuff was on the porch, where do you want it?" You shout loudly to him from the living room. You get silence in response, so you walk to his room and knock, but when you do, the door falls open on its own.
Well maybe a peek inside won't hurt, plus this box does seem important...
To your surprise, on the wall are several polaroids of you that you never posed for. In some of the pictures you are sitting on campus, waiting for the bus, even putting your makeup on in the morning at your vanity through a crack in your door.
How did he get all of these? You back up from the shrine and bump into his bed. You fall onto the soft gray bed sheets and inhale. The sheets smell like Mingi's cologne. You look around the room, when you notice something familiar poking out from underneath his pillow. Under further inspection, it's a pair of your white lace underwear.
What the hell? There was no way sweet, quiet, awkward Mingi was some kind of freak. Especially, some kind of freak for you specifically. He's popular in his major for his looks, well-liked in general, but still shy and reserved in social settings. He's cute in the geeky way, the way his face lights up when he's talking about his favorite shows and comic books was adorable to you-- which is why you were okay with becoming his roommate. But apparently everything you knew was wrong.
"Y/n?" You hear Mingi's deep voice from behind you in the doorway. You face him, clutching your panties in your hand. His eyes flicker to you and then to the panties. "Y/n it's not what it looks like I promise." He says clumsily. "Then start explaining before I freak out." You warn. He gulps, visibly nervous. "I just like following you around, looking at you at all times, being surrounded by your scent..." He gestures to the underwear in your hands. He anxiously waits for your response and expects you to start yelling at him, but to his surprise, you laugh.
"So you're like a cute little puppy?" You coo at him and he blushes. "No! I'm more like a shadow. Your shadow." He defends, trying to ignore the way his cock twitches at you calling him a cute puppy. Feeling at ease, you confidently step towards him and gently caress his cheek with your hand, making his face turn bright red. "Stop trying to be mysterious. You're my cute puppy. Following me around all loyal. Protecting me." You tease him, cornering him against the wall. You press your body against his, wondering just how far you can push him. "Just like a puppy."
Mingi struggles to keep his composure, trying his best to avoid letting you feel his erection. Letting you know just how much you affect him was all too embarrassing. "Can my puppy be a good boy and behave?" You gently run your fingers through his hair while Mingi bites his lip, nods, and whimpers. "Good boy." You hum, petting him more confidently now. Playing with Mingi is too much fun, every one of his expressions cuter than the last, you couldn't help yourself.
"I wonder if my puppy can fetch? If he does I'll give him a treat." Mingi raises an eyebrow, but his face quickly morphs into surprise when you toss the white lace panties across his room. "Fetch." You command. It only takes Mingi a few seconds to stride to where they landed. Maintaining eye contact with you the entire time, he drops to his knees and picks up the underwear between his teeth. As promised, he delivers them back to you, still holding them in his mouth waiting for your next command.
"You're so perfect puppy, so obedient." He smiles at your praise, somehow becoming even more addicted to you than he was before. Finally, you take the panties from his lips. "Kiss me Mingi. Show me how much you want me." Like a switch was flipped, he pounces at you, knocking you down to the floor, pinning you roughly underneath him. He catches your lips in a hot, passionate kiss. You moan into it, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. Mingi kisses you desperately like he's starving, lapping at your tongue with his own. His lower body presses gently against yours, his restraint apparent as he waits for your next order.
"Do you like me being your puppy?" He asks you with glazed eyes. "Yes." You whisper. "Then let your puppy fuck you like an animal on the floor. Please princess? I'll make you feel so good." After getting your permission, Mingi unbuttons your blouse with steady hands. With every new inch of skin exposed, he places kisses there. He tosses your shirt and your bra and sits on his heels above you, committing the sight to memory before devouring you.
He roughly sucks on one nipple, while pinching the other. Then, he shamelessly ruts into you, letting you feel every inch through his jeans. The sound of your cries fill the room, encouraging Mingi to be more bold. Using one hand, he turns your head to the side, making you watch yourself on his mirrored closet doors. "I want you to see that your puppy isn't so little." He says while removing his clothes. Once his cock is out, you can see why he said that. It's huge, leaking precum, and twitches under your gaze. Stripping you, then flipping you onto your stomach, he props your bare ass into the air, but keeps your face focused on the mirror.
Running his velvety tip on your folds, he coats himself with your juices and whines despite barely being inside. "What? Is my pussy too much for my little sensitive puppy to handle-" before you could finish teasing him, Mingi slams into you, forcing you to moan. In the reflection, you see him smirking. "What was that princess? I didn't hear you can you repeat yourself?"
You try to speak, but his thrusts are too deep, too fast. Every word you try to speak is replaced with the sound of pleasure. The stretch he gives you burns so good, the position on the floor making everything more intense. He grabs you by your hair to keep you in place while his thrusts turn messier. He gives your breasts one final squeeze before releasing, his come dripping down your legs. The filthy sight has you clenching around him tighter, and your release soon follows.
He licks the mess off your thighs lazily before helping you up and gathering your clothes.
"Next time if you want to do this with me just ask, don't go taking my favorite panties." You scold him jokingly and he blushes.
"So there will be a next time?" He says smiling, excited to just be near you.
summary: After having nightmares, San promises to stay by his princess's side all night.
word count: 2.3k
warnings: mature content, thigh riding, dirty talking, san is whipped for reader
a/n: baby's first pic plz be kind
Princess Y/n and her most trusted knight, San, are inseparable. Tonight, more so than others. Due to reoccurring nightmares, San has been assigned overnight duty.
"Don't worry Princess, if you need anything, I'll be just beyond this door." He smiles softly and knocks on the thick wooden door to emphasize his point. "You can unlock the door for me if it happens again, or you can just shout and I'll break this door down if it's easier that way." He jokes.
Y/n laughs, momentarily forgetting about the horrors that have been plaguing her mind for the last couple of nights. It starts the same- she is looking over the balcony of her tower that oversees the rose garden and leans over to get a closer look. Then, a strong gust of wind pulls her off the edge and she falls. The fall is fast, but long. She flips, tosses and turns through the air, crying begging for someone to help, but help never comes. As she falls, it's apparent that the roses have become bigger, colossal even, as if she were Alice in Wonderland all of a sudden.
She screams and awakes in her bed, tears running down her cheeks every time. By the second night this happened, she swore not to sleep again.
And San wasn't going to allow that.
"And you won't step away, or fall asleep?" She calls out to him warily. "Of course not Princess, have I ever let you down before?" He says in his charming, up beat tone.
And it's true. Sir San has watched over you since you both were children, he was practically raised to be your knight, and he did not treat that title lightly. He's protected you from bugs, irritating suitors, and from your own recklessness countless times. So, you knew you could always trust his words.
"Okay, well, goodnight San." You say as you climb into bed in your delicate white night gown. You weren't looking forward to tonight's sleep, convinced it was going to be the same as all the others.
"Have a sweet night." San says in his uplifting voice. And for some reason, him saying that lit a small flicker of hope in you.
---
Several hours had passed, and you had not been able to close your eyes, even for a second. Fear had taken over your mind and held you tightly in its grasp. You tossed over to the other side of the mattress again in a weak attempt to fall asleep when a bright idea came to you.
You looked down at the extra pillow beside you and sat up on top of it, straddling it between your thighs. "Surely this will tire me out..." You think to yourself. You press down softly on it at first and feel a slight pressure, but it wasn't enough. You roll the night gown over your shoulders, leaving you in your undergarments. You roll your hips again, this time feeling the pillow more deeply.
You groan softly, wary of San just outside your door, but as the pressure starts building, you can feel your reason slowly slipping away. You roll your hips in a steady and slow rhythm when your mind starts to wander to a memory of the other day.
It was a beautiful sunny afternoon and you were reading beside a pond. You were so lost in the book, you didn't notice your slipper fell off your foot and rolled into the water. But you did notice San leaving his post and removing his armor before jumping head first into the water.
You accidentally memorized the way the water droplets hugged his shirtless body, the way he brushed his wet hair effortlessly out of his eyes, and the way his trousers clung to his lower body-- leaving little to the imagination. "Don't worry princess I got it!!" He happily exclaimed while clutching your shoe, raising both arms proudly.
Normally, San's cute demeanor in that moment is what stands out to you, but right now as you straddle your pillow, all you can visualize is his thick cock showing through his pants that day.
“San…. Yes…” You groan as your hips pick up the pace. You imagine reaching out and softly touching his member, you can practically feel it jump under your touch. As you repeat that memory in your mind, San emerges from the water fully and kneels before you, leaning down to carefully slide your shoe back on. That’s when you notice his muscular thighs. The wet fabric wraps them nicely, a little too nicely, and it sends you to the edge. Back in reality, you moan loudly and scream San’s name while doing do.
In a nanosecond the large wooden door flies open. San bursts into the room, wielding his sword, but quickly drops it when he sees you desperately humping your pillow in your panties.
And calling his name while doing it.
Once the initial shock wears off, his demeanor changes entirely. He softly locks the door behind him, and when he turns back to you, his eyes darken like nothing you’ve seen before. You grab your blanket and quickly cover yourself. “This isn’t what it looks like! I was just having a bad dream is all.” You plead. San scoffs, dropping his sword to the floor and taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “So let me get this straight, you couldn’t sleep so you decided to undress and touch yourself to the thought of me?” He asks in a darker, more serious tone.
“Yes. I’m so sorry San, I couldn’t help it. Honestly, my mind wandered that’s all.” By now, your face has turned completely red and you felt like you were gonna pass out from embarrassment.
“I’m disappointed in you Princess.” San rests his head in his lap for a moment before turning to you. “I told you if you needed help with anything to call me.” Your jaw drops at his bold statement. “What?” He inches closer to you, his body leaning over yours. “Don’t be embarrassed princess, it’s completely natural to have those kinds of thoughts.” He whispers as his fingers lightly roam the blanket, daring to tear it away at any second.
“I’m not mad or disgusted. In fact, I’m flattered that my Princess can have any man in the kingdom, yet she chooses to fantasize about me.” He smiles brightly and a soft blush appears on his cheeks. “And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t done the same to the thought of you once or twice.” He admitted.
At the thought of San doing that, you roll your hips into the pillow involuntarily, and he notices right away. “What part were you on, you poor little thing. I bet it aches between your legs real bad because you haven’t finished what you started huh.” He pouts and you nod softly. He swiftly yanks your blanket away.
“Tell San what’s got you all hot and bothered.” He says while looking you up and down. “Your thighs and cock…. The other day at the pond….” You confess while closing your eyes and pressing down harder, picking up right where you left off. You hear him laugh. Not making fun of you, more in disbelief. “That’s so cute. Me jumping in the water and retrieving your slipper is all it takes to get you worked up like this huh.” You peek your eyes open to catch a quick glance at his thighs, which doesn’t go unnoticed.
“So you’re imagining my thighs huh. I can help you get a better look princess.” He quickly discards his shirt and trousers, leaving him in his underwear. Grabbing you by your underarms, he gently places you on top of his lap so that you are straddling one of his thighs instead of the pillow. He places his hands on your hips, teasingly slipping his thumbs underneath the waistband of your panties.
“I want you to use me y/n. My sole purpose is to serve you, and I want nothing more right now than to help you come.” He looks up at you with big glassy eyes. He places his thumb on your lips cautiously, trying to gauge your feelings towards him in that moment. While maintaining eye contact with him, you place a single kiss on his thumb before taking it in your mouth, lapping at it with your tongue. His brow furrows and groans at the sight. “You’re going to be the end of me.” He says breathlessly. You release his thumb and he uses that same hand to press his wet thumb to one of your breasts. You can feel the cold sensation throat the lace of your bra and you whine.
“Let’s get this out of the way pretty girl.” He hums as he discards your bra masterfully. He blatantly stares at your chest before placing his head directly in them, kissing and sucking even inch of skin he comes into contact with. He does so meticulously with such devotion, as if he’s worried you’ll disappear. You tangle your hands in his hair to reassure him, and he groans against your skin. The sounds he makes gives you the courage you needed to press your hips against his thigh roughly.
“See? Doesn’t it feel so much better with my help?” He pauses his actions and looks up at you with a cute smile, as if he was unaware of the effect he had on you currently. “Yes so much better” you whimper desperately. Hearing your tone, he quickly moves his lips from your chest to your neck leaving a trail of kisses and bites. “I want to kiss you so bad…” he mutters into your skin. “I know I’m simply a knight and this should be enough of a blessing but I feel so selfish right now.” He begs as he tenses his thigh muscle, sending a shock of pleasure through your whole body.
"I don't care about titles, I just want you San. You can have anything you want from me right now." You pant in-between moans. "Oh my sweet princess..." San grabs your face in his big strong hands and presses his lips to yours. They're soft kisses, but as your wetness spreads on his thigh, the kiss becomes deep and desperate. His tongue laps at yours while his hands roam from your waistband to your butt. He spanks it harshly, earning a whimper from you, which allows him more access to your mouth.
"So you were also thinking about my cock? What a dirty little princess..." You moan at his filthy words, picking up the pace with your hips. San shamefully bucks his hips into the air in response and groans. He reaches over and grabs the tip of his sword while you look at him, confused.
"Stay still beautiful." You whine as you still your hips. "Shh shhh I know... don't worry I'll let you continue in a second." The sword's blade just barely skims the top of your hip and you hold your breath. San carefully glides it over the waistband of your panties, slicing it. Your panties fall off you, leaving you completely naked on his thigh.
"Good girl." His hands roam your now bare body before reaching for his own undergarments. "Since you were so good at listening to me, I'll show you what you were so curious about. To help you visualize it, of course." He smirks as he removes his boxers. His cock springs out of its confines, the tip swollen red and angry looking. You moan and start rubbing your core against him, harder and faster than ever.
"Ugh look at it, this is what you do to me princess, this is how you make me feel." He moans as he places his hands on your hips, aiding your movements. The room is filled with the sound of slick skin moving against each other and both of your sounds.
"Ah! San- I think I'm close" you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. "Come on me princess. I want you to make a mess all over my thigh. Please please... for me" he starts biting your neck and collar bones, tongue soothing the marks after. As the pressure continues to build, San lands one last harsh slap to your bottom before you release all over him. He's flushed as he observes the face you make while doing it, coming himself as he watches you.
You press a quick kiss to his lips as you ride out the last of your pleasure. San gets up and grabs his handkerchief, wiping the both of you down. "How was that princess? Did you like it?" He asks, blushing nervously. You nod happily. "You were amazing." You fluff his hair and he smiles, putting his underwear back on. "Just letting you know princess, I like you. Not just as a knight, but as a man." He confesses quietly, reaching for his armor. You place a hand on his, stopping him. "I do too, so please don't leave me tonight." You two share another soft kiss while San happily slips into bed beside you, wrapping an arm tightly around you.
"Let's see if you can get some sleep now." He says. And that night, you do dream of falling in the rose garden again, but this time, San eagerly jumps in after you and holds you tightly against him mid-air. You admire his kind eyes, his soft smile, and the warmth of his touch. You feel so safe and loved you didn't even notice how the rose garden turned into a soft field of dandelions.
♪summary- Yunho can be pretty whiny and pathetic when it comes to you.
♪warnings- smut, depictions of masturbation
♪word count- 203
♪a/n- first time writing one of these, hopefully it's not too bad :P
Pathetic!Yunho who gets jealous of the banana you eat in the morning.
Pathetic!Yunho who reminds you that he's a good boy any chance he gets.
Pathetic!Yunho who imagines fucking you until he falls asleep.
Pathetic!Yunho who starts humping the mattress and pretends it's you when his imagination simply isn't enough.
Pathetic!Yunho who kisses his friend, Wooyoung, in front of you because he knows it makes you flustered.
Pathetic!Yunho who can't help but whimper during the kiss because he's embarrassed from all the attention.
Pathetic!Yunho who blushes even more when you spit in his mouth, savoring the taste on his tongue like it's precious to him.
Pathetic!Yunho who begs on his knees for you to touch him anywhere, to help him release because it's almost painful how bad he needs you.
Pathetic!Yunho who cries when you squeeze his cock and refuse to move your hand. His tears make his eyes big and glassy, while his tip is red and swollen.
Pathetic!Yunho who comes easily and quickly after you find a steady pace on his cock. He can't help it-- you stir urges in him he's never had before-- and you love him for it.
❀summary- Jongho is s sensitive, passionate lover that gives you his all in everything he does.
❀warnings- smut, depictions of sex
❀word count- 208
❀a/n- love types head cannons might become a series
❀ Sensitive!Jongho who wears your hickeys proudly on his neck, not bothering to cover them up.
❀ Sensitive!Jongho whose favorite position is missionary because he gets to see your face while demolishing your pussy.
❀ Sensitive!Jongho who intertwines his fingers with yours during sex.
❀ Sensitive!Jongho who kisses your body delicately like it's made out of the most expensive porcelain.
❀ Sensitive!Jongho who pays close attention to your body language during sex to ensure you're having the best time.
❀ Sensitive!Jongho who punctuates every thrust with an "I love you".
❀ Sensitive!Jongho who talks you through it. "My love takes my big, hard cock so well", "You squeeze me so good", "Yes baby, just like that", "Do you want it deeper?"
❀ Sensitive!Jongho who presses on your stomach while he's inside you. "Do you feel that baby? It's what you do to me. It's my love for you."
❀ Sensitive!Jongho who loudly moans your name when he comes so the entire world can know who owns his heart.
❀ Sensitive!Jongho who carries you bridal style into a warm bath afterwards, washing you gently as he continues to pour his heart out to you in the form of praises.
✮summary- Mingi is a jealous maniac for you and only you.
✮warnings- public sex/touching, possessiveness, mirror sex
✮word count-306
✮a/n- part 3 of love type series. previous: part 1, part 2
✮ Jealous!Mingi who is loyal to a fault. Once you allow him to be your boyfriend, he commits to the relationship with everything he's got.
✮ Jealous!Mingi who hates being apart from your side, even for a second. "Should I buy a collar and leash for you? That way I could always have you near me." "Mingi I'm just going to the kitchen." You say laughing. "I didn't hear a no." He half-jokes.
✮ Jealous!Mingi who notices guys staring at your legs and ass when you wear a short skirt on a date with him. He doesn't get mad at you, he trusts you. But he doesn't trust anyone else.
✮ Jealous!Mingi who boldly palms your ass in front of them to send one simple, clear message: "She's mine".
✮ Jelous!Mingi who sprays his jacket with his favorite cologne before draping it over your shoulders, so you won't forget about him.
✮ Jealous!Mingi who installs a mirror on the ceiling above his bed so you can give him even more attention while he fucks you.
✮ Jealous!Mingi who leaves marks all over your body to remind you of him. "Who owns these beautiful tits?" He growls before biting down on one of them, then soothing the spot with his tongue. "Mingi does!!" You helplessly cry out as he smirks against your chest.
✮Jealous!Mingi who fucks you from behind while you're pressed against his window. He's proud to show off his eager, cock-hungry princess to anyone who dares to look.
✮ Jealous!Mingi who happily watches his come drip down your legs. "You're so pretty this way, do you really have to clean it?" He says while pouting as you wipe yourself.
✮ Jealous!Mingi who holds you tightly against his chest after sex, as if he's afraid you'll disappear.
♰summary: Your mysterious butler Yeosang is tired of seeing you getting heartbroken over bad boys. So, he shows you the charms of a true gentleman.
♰word count: 1.2k
♰warnings: bondage, unprotected sex
Your butler Yeosang is as mysterious as he is handsome. Very much so. But tonight, he's different.
"My lady, pardon my boldness, but I wish to make unforgettable love to you tonight." The words smoothly trickle from his lips while his gaze remains emotionless, fixated on you.
"Uh, what?" You say as you almost spit out your tea.
Yeosang sighs and rubs his temples in frustration. How much clearer can he be? "Y/n, how many 'bad boys' do you have to cry over to see that you're choosing the wrong type of guys? I'm tired of seeing you get hurt." He was right. For the last couple of nights you brought handsome stranger after handsome stranger to the mansion. And all it resulted in a wild night of fun, but tears soon after.
Sure, those guys may have been stereotypical bad boys-- tattoo artists, musicians, underground fighters-- but that didn't mean he was allowed to point out your very obvious, toxic type.
He hums as he sees the gears in your head turning. "Do you finally understand your mistake? So instead of trash like those guys, how about you spend a night with someone who's refined and elegant. A true gentleman like myself?" He gracefully walks closer to you and leans down to whisper in your ear. "Let me show you how I'm better I am. Let me expand your horizons and show you what you've been missing..."
"My lady." He gently stretches his hand out to you and you ponder for a moment before taking it. He smiles softly, bringing your hand up to his lips that just gently brush against your fingers. "Phenomenal choice."
Yeosang carefully lifts you bridal-style, holding you gently as he makes his way to the bedroom. He softly lays you on your back while he climbs on top, making out with you. The kisses are long, deep, and full of tongue. He savors your saliva, treasuring it before swallowing every drop. His actions don't need any introduction, the way he handles your body flows beautifully like classical music.
"Manners make the man, and tonight I will show you a real man so you'll never accept anything less."
He drags a silk gloved hand down your neck until the back of his hand rests on top of your clothed breast. You shiver at his relentless teasing that has you pressing your thighs together tightly.
"Yeosang, please. Don't make me beg."
He raises an eyebrow and gives you a small half-smile. "I won't make you do anything. In fact, you won't be able to hold back at your own accord."
Before you can question him, he's peeling your blouse and skirt off then fixes white silk ribbons to your wrists and ankles that attach to your bed frame, leaving you spread out in nothing but a pair of lace panties. "No bra. Why do I bother doing your laundry if you're not going to use it?" He scolds while twisting your nipples hard, coaxing a loud moan out of you. The sensation goes straight to your core, soaking through the black lace of your underwear. He pauses to admire the way the it hugs your skin while simultaneously covering nothing at all. Using his now bare hand, he cups your heat, pressing it hard against the lace.
Just as he said, you can't resist rutting against it like you're in heat. The friction from the lace paired with his soft but large palm has you pulling at your restraints, yearning for more of his touch. He can sense this, and from the obvious bulge in his trousers, he feels it too. He then slips your panties off and tosses them onto the carpet.
Looking at your nude body, he licks his lips, committing the image to memory. "You are the finest art piece I've ever had the honor to lay my eyes on."
You blush while he discards his clothes, his cock long, his tip red and leaking with pre come. "Tonight, like any other night, I am your humble servant. I want you to do nothing but lay there, relax, and take me like the goddess you are."
Climbing on top of you, he lines his length up with your entrance, sinking into you until you can't take in any more. "Such a pretty, delicate little thing you are. I can't wait to break you." He groans while throwing his head back. His chest rises and falls quickly while he relishes the tight squeeze your fluttering pussy gives him. Despite not being abnormally thick, he's far too long. His tip pokes against nerves you were previously unaware existed, another inch or two not even sheathed inside you.
You whimper while he waits for you to adjust, then drags himself completely out before unexpectedly slamming into you again. He leans down into your neck, biting it and leaving hickeys scattered down to your collar bones. You feel completely dumb, frozen in place unable to form a thought while he rams into you, using his kisses to distract you from the sting you secretly like.
You'd never tell him, but you don't have to, because your hard nipples, wetness, and screams tell him everything he needs to know.
Moving his face to your exposed armpits, he licks and kisses the spot while rolling his hips in a steady rhythm. The whines you make are louder, more desperate as he succumbs to his most primal need. Never before have you felt more full, more worshipped than you do now.
"How does it feel having a love slave? A man so desperate for your touch, he feels like he could come just from you glancing at his cock." He pants with a furrowed brow and dark eyes. Unbeknownst to you, his sanity is being held by a single thread that is ready to snap.
"It feels- uh!- good..." You moan while erratically pulling at your restraints while he continues pounding into you.
"Mark my words Y/n, if another unworthy man dares lay a finger on you I will bend you over in front of him and fuck you until you both learn the errors of your ways." He growls, snapping his hips wildly a couple of more times before he pulls out, finishing all over your body in delicate swirling patterns, leaving his lewd yet graceful signature on you. Meanwhile, your own release hits, spilling onto the sheets underneath you.
Yeosang climbs off of you with his composure as proper as he can muster before untying your hands, enabling you to sit up. As you soothe your red wrists, he's carefully removing the bedsheets from under you.
"What are you doing?" You ask him, trying to fill the silence.
"I'm going to do my job: cleaning up after you. But this time, I'll do it naked and you can watch me." He says while grabbing his handkerchief and kneeling eye level with your core, wiping it gently.
A whimper slips out of you from the sensation and he laughs.
"Can this be your new uniform?" You joke.
"Anything for the lady of the house." He says with a lustful gleam in his eyes.
warnings : smut, power imbalance, forbidden desire , size difference, fingering, cowgirl, very very VERY slight dumbification, nicknames
word count : 2.6k
author's note : hello.. this is my debut post.. idk how to write stuff like this goodbye
the soft glow of the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, catching the sharp angles of yunho’s jawline. he looked impossibly tall even while seated, his broad shoulders dominating the space between you.
he tilted his head, his dark eyes tracking the frantic way your fingers picked at the hem of your sweater. the usual gentle warmth in his gaze was replaced by a sharp, intense focus that made your stomach flip.
"you're avoiding my eyes today," yunho noted. his voice was smooth, dropping an octave lower than usual. it carried the heavy weight of his authority, a reminder of the invisible boundary line drawn between your couch and his chair.
"i'm just tired," you lied softly, keeping your eyes glued to the rug.
you heard the rustle of fabric as he shifted. yunho leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. the sudden proximity closed the physical gap between you, making the air in the room feel suffocatingly thick. the power dynamic shifted instantly, he was the professional in complete control, and you were entirely exposed.
"we've been working together too long for you to use that excuse with me," he murmured. the words were a quiet command, demanding honesty. "look at me."
your breath hitched. slowing lifting your gaze, you met his eyes. there was a dangerous flicker of tension in his expression, an unspoken acknowledgement of the heavy friction that had been building between you for months. he was your therapist. he wasn't supposed to look at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. he wasn't supposed to let his gaze linger on your lips for a fraction of a second.
but he just did.
yunho’s knuckles flexed against his knee, his knuckles turning white as if he was actively forcing himself to stay anchored to his seat. the strict professional facade he usually wore perfectly was slipping, stretched thin by the sheer gravity of the tension pulling you both together.
"that's better," he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. "now, tell me what you're really thinking about."
the rain outside seemed to quiet down, leaving nothing but the heavy, charged silence of the room. yunho tilted his head, a slow, dark smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. it was a jarring, thrilling contrast to his usual bright demeanour, it was like a shadow slipping over his warmth.
he uncrossed his legs and stood up. his towering frame completely dominated the small space, casting a long shadow directly over your lap. he took two slow, deliberate steps forward, stopping right at the edge of your couch.
"you look so small when you're nervous," yunho murmured, his deep voice carrying a low, mocking chuckle. the sound vibrated right through your chest. he was actively enjoying the control he held over you.
he leaned down, placing one of his notoriously large hands flat on the back of the sofa, right above your shoulder. his fingers splayed wide against the fabric, effectively trapping you beneath his frame. the sheer size of his hand made you hyper-aware of how easily he could overpower the strict professional boundaries keeping you apart.
"is the silence making you uncomfortable?" he asked softly, his face close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. he used his other hand to gently tap the side of his own jaw, pretending to think. "or is it just me?"
he was playing with you, subtly manipulating the dynamic to corner you verbally and physically. he knew exactly what he was doing to your heart rate.
"jeong yunho," you whispered, his actual name slipping out instead of his professional title.
yunho’s eyes darkened at the sound of his name on your lips. his large hand shifted on the sofa, his thumb brushing against the collar of your shirt, just barely grazing your skin. it was an intentional, forbidden breach of protocol, executed with terrifying calmness.
"that's dr. jeong in this room," he corrected, though his voice dropped to a husky, dangerous whisper. he leaned in a fraction closer, locking his gaze onto yours. "but i like how you say my name. do it again."
you swallowed hard, your throat tight as you looked up into the dark depths of his eyes. the sheer proximity was dizzying. your walls were chipping away, and instead of pulling back, you felt yourself leaning into his space.
that slow, deeply satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his lips once more. that alone was enough to make your head spin.
he stood up slowly. his towering 6'1" frame completely dominated the small office, instantly making the room feel smaller. He took two deliberate, unhurried steps across the floor, closing the gap until he stood directly over your couch, casting a long shadow across your lap.
before you could even process how close he was, he leaned down. He placed one of his notoriously large hands flat on the back of the sofa, right above your shoulder. his broad shoulders completely blocked out the rest of the room, isolating you entirely under his weight. the sheer size of his hand against the cushion made you hyperaware of how easily he had just bypassed the rules keeping you apart.
you swallowed hard, your throat tight as you looked up into the dark depths of his eyes. the sudden, intense proximity was dizzying. your walls were chipping away, and you felt yourself freezing under his touch.
"yunho," you breathed out again, softer this time, almost like a plea.
that same slow, deeply satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his lips once more. but even then, it still had the same affect on you.
"good girl," he whispered, his thumb lingering on your collar, maintaining just enough light, agonising contact to keep you anchored right where he wanted you. He was dismantling your restraint with terrifying patience. "let it go. you don't have to put your walls up when you're with me. i won't punish you for being vulnerable, angel."
your knees felt weak against the cushions as you completely melted into his touch. you didn't pull away, lean back, or try to rebuild your walls. instead, your head tilted back slightly against the sofa, your eyes closing for a brief second as you let yourself sink entirely into the solid, heavy warmth of his presence.
a soft, helpless sigh escaped your lips, a quiet surrender that confessed everything you had been trying to hide.
yunho’s smirk widened just a fraction, a dark gleam of pure triumph flashing in his eyes. he loved seeing you like this. completely unraveled, stripped of your defenses and entirely dependent on his next move. he was drunk on the heavy, intoxicating gravity his control had.
"look at you," yunho whispered, his deep voice carrying that slow, mocking chuckle that sent a shiver straight down your spine. "so compliant all of a sudden."
his large hand slid fully off the back of the couch, his long fingers trailing down the side of your neck with agonising slowness. his palm was massive, hot against your skin, and it completely engulfed the side of your throat. his thumb rested directly over your pulse point, feeling the frantic, erratic thumping of your heart.
he didn't squeeze. he just held you there, his touch a gentle but unyielding reminder of the power dynamic he was dominating.
"you're shaking," he murmured, leaning down so close that his lips almost brushed the shell of your ear. the scent of his cedarwood cologne filled your senses, making your head spin. "is it because you're scared of what we're doing or because you've been waiting for me to do this for months?"
he tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours as he forced you to look at him. he was chipping away at the very last piece of your restraint, leaving you entirely exposed in his shadow.
the shift happened so fast your breath caught in your throat.
yunho didn't give you a choice to answer. his large hand slid down from your neck, his fingers wrapping firmly around your waist while his other hand hooked securely under your thighs. with a single, effortless motion, his towering frame lifted you completely off the cushions. the sudden sensation of weightlessness made you gasp, your hands instinctively flying up to grip his broad shoulders.
instead of stepping away, yunho simply pivoted, taking your place on the couch. he sat down heavily where you had just been resting, smoothly pulling you down directly into his lap.
the physical contrast was dizzying. straddling his lap, you were acutely aware of how massive he was. his long legs framed yours, and his broad chest felt like a solid wall against your front. he looked up at you from below, but the power dynamic hadn't shifted at all. if anything, his control over you felt absolute.
"there," yunho murmured, his deep voice vibrating right against your thighs. his large hands rested heavily on your hips, pinning you to him. "much better."
he leaned up, his dark eyes locking onto your mouth. the mocking edge in his smile softened into pure, intense fixation. the forbidden tension between you pulled like a magnet, and when his fingers flexed against your waist, you closed the remaining distance, tilting your head down.
your lips finally met.
the kiss was slow, deep, and completely intoxicating. it carried the heavy weight of months of hidden glances, professional restraint, and unspoken desire. you melted completely against him, your fingers tangling into his hair as you gave in to the touch. he kissed you with a quiet, dominant hunger that made your head spin, his large hands anchoring you tightly to his lap.
but just as you completely lost yourself in the warmth of his mouth, yunho suddenly pulled back.
he didn't break the physical proximity entirely. he stopped just a fraction of an inch away, his hot breath brushing against your damp lips. a slow, deeply satisfied smirk returned to his face as he looked at your dazed, breathless expression.
"desperate." he muttered in a mocking tone, his eyes dropping to your lips shamelessly. your cheeks burned red at that, but he wasn't wrong. in fact, he was far from wrong.
everything about him made you dizzy. you've already lost your mind even though he hasn't even touched you properly. you were so pathetic, but you didn't really care. your eyes dropped back onto his lips once more, which didn't go unnoticed by him.
"so needy." he breathed out. his voice was making you so wet already.
your lips formed a pout, you just wanted.. no. needed him so bad. "yunho.." you mumbled, right when his hands were sliding down. your skirt already being ridden up was too beautiful for him to keep his hands to himself.
hand under your skirt, he found your laced panties, pushing it to the side to find your soaked clit.
"you're so wet, baby. that's adorable." he chuckled softly as he slipped one of his long, thin fingers in slowly. you let out a whiny moan without thought and god did it make him so hard it hurt.
he then slipped in a second finger, pumping both of them in and out of you slowly. it felt so good. with his thumb rubbing your clit gently, you were practically on cloud 9.
"you're so pretty.. my sweet girl." he mumbled against your mouth before kissing you hungrily once more. he was trying so hard to be gentle, if not he would've taken you so rough you'd be crying (which he does want to see).
his words weren't helping, you were practically creating a puddle on his fingers alone. he even dared to pick up the pace.
"i want you to cum on my fingers, can you do that for me? hmm?" he said so sweetly it was almost mocking. he then made sure to curl his fingers more, making you cry out.
eventually, you couldn't take it and came undone on his fingers while he kept saying praises that sounded sweet yet so mean at once. "look at you, you're doing so well for such a pathetic girl." he muttered right into your ear, his hot breath tickling you oh so sweetly as he pulled his fingers out gently.
he then undressed himself, letting his hard cock free. god it was long. just looking at it made you want to drool.
"i want you to ride me, can you do that, pretty?" he asked, but it wasn't really a question. it was more of a command. he was already lifting you up by the hips.
you slowly took him in, he made sure to not rush it and to give you time to adjust. he was watching you the whole time. noting how beautiful you were, all undone and needy just for him. he was in pure ecstasy.
he made sure you didn't take all of him yet as it might just be too much, even though that's what he really wanted. he let you adjust while his hands roamed your body as he kissed you all over with obvious hunger and slight aggression.
you then started moving up and down on his cock slowly, which took him by surprise for a minute. "aww, you're so desperate. i love it." he laughed softly, helping by thrusting up a bit.
he felt so good, he was so big and long. he was hitting all the right spots. each time you moved back down, you just kept soaking him all over. you couldn't help but be so loud.
his hands on your hips guided you, moving you up and down, eventually picking up the pace. he felt so good, you felt tears welling up and you eventually started to cry. he noticed and grinned lightly. "baby, don't cry." he cooed, but he wanted you to cry. in fact it just turned him on even more.
"you're so angelic.." he said through his grin, watching you cry as he fucked you. "i want to see you cum, doll. let go for me, hm?" he picked up the pace with his thrusts while pushing you up and down faster this time.
he was watching you, observing you. your eyes were glassy, face red, hair messy and clothes were disheveled. you were even prettier this way. you were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, you even let out the most beautiful sounds he's ever heard, you even felt as beautiful as you looked.
"you're never like this. you always fought me when i tried to get closer, when i tried to bring down your walls." he started, you weren't even listening. you were just so focused on going up and down on his cock, he could tell but kept talking away. "but this time.. i didn't even have to try. you just let down your walls for me. pathetic, isn't it? you're not as tough as you say you are."
the entire time, you're just babbling absolute nonsense, moaning and holding onto him as if he was your lifeline. he was right where he wanted to be.
"cute little thing." he mumbled, looking you up and down slowly.
you eventually let go once more, cumming whilst in his arms once again. you let out a loud moan and your hands around his neck tightened. he was in just pure bliss watching you.
his sweet, innocent, helpless girl losing herself, being so vulnerable emotionally, physically and mentally.. it was truly fuelling his sex drive.
you collapsed in his arms, both of you panting. he held you gently, looked at you so sweetly. he treated you like you were made of glass, but it was very clear his true desire was to make the glass break.
if you got up to the end, thank you and i love you !! you're getting kissed mwah mwah !!! and yes i know this is bad... i got bored one day and thought i'd write something. took me a MONTH to finish goodbye. i expect this to have 0 likes and 0 views LMAO 😭 this is experimental and for me to test the waters
every moment that made me pause the new go 9 or go big woosan video mid-watch
san immediately shoving his mic into both his mouth and wooyoung's mouth (a sentence that i i think i've read in a fanfic tbh)
woosan talking about the new tattoo possibly being on their forearm!!!!!!!!!
wooyoung taping the mic to san's face (and unnecessarily pressing on san's lips in the process)
san saying his dad found out about their tattoo on a joint (!) family trip to jeju when he saw san sleeping in his underwear (!) and then was like dope (!) when san said it was matching with wooyoung (!!!)
san's face when he saw the parents in the room
san starting to do push-ups in the middle of the dinner
wooyoung having to take off his jacket to reveal his tattoo to the parents
wooyoung and san throwing each other under the bus over cooking and drinking
wooyoung's fake ass laugh at the one dad's joke
wooyoung's attempt to make the one mom laugh by just going "honk"????? (this made me take a full lap of my apartment as i cackled)
san's blinky face when wooyoung says he wouldn't mind his in-laws coming along on his honeymoon and then him "one-upping" wooyoung by saying the in-laws coming is a brilliant idea
ARM WRESTLING????
san being a kiss ass post arm wrestling by saying "oh you're so strong" to the dad and the dad telling him to basically stfu (icon)
all the wall time "reflections"
wooyoung fighting for the check then realizing he can't actually pay because he doesn't have any physical credit cards and just using san's card to pay (an icon part 2)
san explaining the divorced parents schedule woosan apparently keep with eunhye
HEY DADDY AND MOMMY
and wooyoung losing in the most wooyoung way by saying "yeah well your daughters weren't impressive either"
to recap: 10 out of 10 for this truly wild public humiliation video. at no point did i know what was about to happen next. genuinely loved seeing these two men be humbled and awkward for twenty-odd minutes. i haven't laughed this much in weeks. truly what a time to be alive.
Summary : Where an insufferable CEO finds peace in his senior, a beloved CEO’s daughter whose presence begins with their soulmate bell ringing for the two.
💮 troop: strangers to lovers
💮 age gap(10 years), fantasy: soulmate, mentioned of kids, married, food, cologne and watch brand names, sugar daddy! Seungcheol if you squint
non idol, adult romance & fantasy au 🌼 s.coups x female reader 🌼 13+ SFW 🌼 12,985 words
🌸originally posted: 20/06/2025
EN-Komect Heights 🌼 SVT-Raitere Lofts 🌼 Otherworld Plaza 🌼 Verdant Springs 🌼 Pinned Post 🌼 taglist
At 8:00 AM the office came alive. A world of polished chrome, high-speed elevator ascensions, the percussive clack of keyboards, and the faint smell of espresso hovering near the kitchenette. Floors are lined with sheer glass partitions, and employees' steps are filled with a quiet urgency, keenly aware of the clock behind every deadline.
On the top floor, behind an obsidian black door embellished with silver letters, resides the corner office of Choi Seungcheol, the very architect of the company he helms. He's more than just the CEO, he's a presence. Charismatic, brilliant, and immaculately composed, Seungcheol is known for walking into a room and altering the air pressure with a single glance. It's rumored he can read a financial report faster than some can skim a menu, and no one leaves a meeting with him without either a promotion, a plan, or a panic attack.
But beneath the tailored suits and the impenetrable gaze lies a man with a past no one dares to probe, a reputation carried like an unassailable armor.
Today, as sunlight floods through the vast windows of his office, Seungcheol stands facing the cityscape, a cup of coffee cradled in his hand, utterly oblivious to the seismic shift that will take place over the course of the day, irrevocably upsetting the control he fiercely maintains.
Barely at the age of 30, Choi Seungcheol has scaled the highest peak of corporate ambition that most only dream of. It's almost impossible to fathom that he began his journey as a humble, low-level assistant at just twenty. No inherited wealth, no well-connected patrons, no shortcuts. Just an indomitable work ethic and a visionary blaze burning behind his piercing gaze. His ascent wasn't facilitated by a silver spoon; every rung of the ladder was hard-won through sheer tenacity and sleepless nights.
Now in his second year as CEO, his leadership is unassailable within the company walls. Success isn't about age; it's about results, and under Seungcheol's guidance, every project is launched with flawless execution, consistently shattering expectations and redefining industry standards. His name resonates through boardrooms across the city: the young prodigy, the game-changer, the man who doesn't merely play by the rules, but writes them.
Perhaps the most admirable, or intimidating-aspect of Seungcheol's persona is his unflappable demeanor amidst chaos. He doesn't simply make decisions; he makes the right ones, at lightning speed. He observes, he listens, he rarely interrupts, and when he does speak, the room hangs on his every word.
Turning from the window now, he places his coffee on the desk just as his secretary's double tap echoes on the door.
"Come in," he states coolly, buttoning his suit jacket.
In a world where soulmates are an established fact of existence, love is less an exploration and more of a certainty. The rule is quite simple. Once you meet your soulmate, a mere glance into their eyes and wedding bells will sound. Not metaphorically, mind you, but literally, chiming in your ears like a secret celebration just for the two of you. And after that, everything seems to align effortlessly, as though the universe has bestowed upon you a perfectly wrapped ending: the soulmates meet, fall in love, and live blissfully ever after.
Or, rather… everyone except Choi Seungcheol.
His friends, his inner circle are all married, knee-deep in wedding arrangements, or sending him chirpy photos of their toddlers with captions like, "Uncle Cheol, when is it your turn?". The world is marching forward at a breakneck pace, and for Seungcheol, who has always been a swift learner, this is the only race he seems incapable of winning.
He's not a solitary man by choice; he simply refuses to risk his emotions. After all, ex-partners and soulmates don't make for compatible unions.
What if he falls for someone who isn't the one? Or what if he heartbreaks someone, only to meet his destined match later, and everything crumbles? Thus, he avoids flirtations, avoids love, avoids anything that could disrupt the equilibrium of his carefully constructed life.
Yet, despite his best efforts, a creeping sense of anxiety lingers. His concern isn't rooted in the prospect of an overdue wedding; it's his parents that weigh heavily on his mind.
At twenty-seven, his mother had arranged a blind date with the daughter of a colleague. Seungcheol, in an act of familial obligation, attended the meeting, only to leave with a debilitating headache.
At twenty-eight, his father had taken to mailing out well-articulated resumes of his son to families with eligible daughters, essentially marketing him like a limited-edition luxury item.
By the age of twenty-nine, the charade had dropped, and an arranged marriage was openly discussed. "Just meet her," they urged, "see if the bells ring." They never did.
Now, at thirty, Seungcheol has no idea what scheme his parents are concocting, but he's certain it won't end well.
And what can he do?
Absolutely nothing.
So, as always, he defaults to the familiar, the reliable: wake up. Go to the office. Attend meetings. Review reports. Sign documents. Go home. Sleep.
It's safe. It's predictable. It's efficient.
It's just another Monday. The familiar rhythm of incoming emails and the distant hum of ringing phones fills the air when Seungcheol's secretary taps twice before entering, her arms laden with stacked files. She places them on his desk without a word initially, as he scans the final few pages of a document. But then, a rare announcement breaks the silence.
"Mr. Shin from Jeonghwa Group has sent an invitation. It's for a masquerade party," she states, her voice laced with professional respect.
"His wife is hosting. They are requesting your presence."
The name elicits a surprised pause from Seungcheol, his gaze lifting from the page. "…Mr. Shin?"
She nods. "Yes. He personally extended the invitation to you."
Choi Seungcheol's eyes widen briefly before he leans back in his chair. Mr. Shin isn't merely an acquaintance; he's a seasoned veteran of the business world, one of the few individuals Seungcheol admired when he first stepped foot into the corporate jungle at twenty.
Sharp, composed, yet possessing a warmth that radiated outwards, Mr. Shin had once told him over lunch. "Success is vital, but it's relationships that will ultimately propel you further than any numbers can."
Unfortunately, the latter had never truly resonated with Seungcheol. He's never been one for social gatherings. In his mind, they disrupt efficiency, forcing him into hours of tedious small talk, standing under ornate chandeliers while sipping on drinks he doesn't particularly enjoy. He doesn't dislike people; he simply prefers order.
But this invitation is an exception. Coming from Mr. Shin, it cannot be dismissed. Refusal would convey an unwelcome message, and disappointing both Mr. Shin and his wife is simply out of the question.
A faint sigh escapes his lips.
"…Inform them that I will attend." He says, a subtle frown etching itself between his brows. "Clear the schedule for that night. If there are any scheduling conflicts, reschedule them. And arrange for some shopping time. Something formal, like a masked attire."
"Understood." His secretary replies with a small smile, already making notes on her tablet as she turns to depart.
The door clicks shut behind her, and the office falls back into silence. Seungcheol remains seated for a moment longer, his gaze unfocused on the documents before him. Slowly, he removes his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose with a weary sigh.
"A masquerade party, hmm…" He muses.
The night of the masquerade arrived, stars sowed across a velvet sky with the city glittering beneath them like a scattered hoard of precious stones. A black car belonging to Seungcheol slid to a stop at the foot of an imposing mansion on the edge of town, the Shin family's place, renowned for only opening its doors to those who mattered.
From the moment Seungcheol stepped through the grand doors, he felt transported into another world.
The grand entrance hall with its high arched ceilings gilded with fine filigree and sparkling crystal chandeliers that illuminated the polished marble floors seemed to stretch for miles. Beautiful flower arrangements that scented the air with delicate orchids and lilies were arranged in glass vases along the walls, and elegantly uniformed staff glided silently by with trays of champagne and wine, offering glasses that winked like those of the guests.
The guests themselves, masked in elaborate creations and draped in sophisticated suits and flowing evening gowns, laughed and mingled in the softly lit hall, the polite murmur of their conversation punctuated by the clink of glasses. Everywhere he looked, movement and elegance danced beneath the golden glow.
An orchestra at the far end of the ballroom played a waltz so soft and enchanting, it felt like it flowed through the evening like silk. The gentle harmonies of the violins intertwined with the lower notes of the cellos as couples twirled and swayed on the dance floor, their shadows long and elegant.
Seungcheol lingered at the entrance for a beat, absorbing the opulent scene. He wore a deep charcoal tuxedo, a simple, sleek brushed silver mask that perfectly fit his face. Much like him. He smoothed the cuffs of his jacket with precise fingers and let out a quiet sigh.
He made his way through the great hall, the light shuffle of his dress shoes muffled by the music and lively chatter. His eyes scanned the crowd, seeking out the one figure he had come to see. Near the center of the room, he saw Mr. Shin, his distinguished navy suit highlighted by silver embroidery along the collar. By his side, equally resplendent, stood Mrs. Shin, her mask festooned with pearls that sparkled with every turn of her head.
Adjusting his mask slightly, Seungcheol approached them, bowing his head with quiet respect.
"Mr. Shin, Mrs. Shin," he began smoothly. "Thank you for the gracious invitation."
Mr. Shin turned, a delighted smile crinkling at the corners of his mask. "Seungcheol! I was starting to think you wouldn't make it. I'm very glad you're here."
Mrs. Shin gave a warm nod. "You look exceptionally handsome tonight, dear. As always."
"I couldn't possibly miss such an event, especially when extended by you both." He replied with a light, formal smile. "The venue is… remarkable."
They exchanged pleasantries, polite jokes and wry comments passing under the shimmering chandeliers. Seungcheol smiled and nodded, accepting a glass of champagne, but a subtle stiffness remained in his posture. And, as was inevitable, the conversation soon shifted back to what he knew best.
"Actually," He began, "just before we arrived here, we finalized the third branch's distribution proposal with-" he caught himself mid-sentence, but Mr. And Mrs. Shin simply exchanged a knowing look.
Mrs. Shin chuckled softly, tilting her head. "Oh, Seungcheol. You can talk about work all you wish if it makes you feel more at home. Masks are not required for that topic."
Her words, meant kindly, cut through his reserve with a sudden warmth. He let out a soft breath he hadn't realized he was holding. And he began to speak.
About the company, the numbers, the employees, the challenges.
Mr. Shin listened intently, offering sage advice, and Mrs. Shin's eyes glowed with a familiar, nurturing warmth. The air around them lightened, the laughter grew more genuine, and the knot of anxiety in Seungcheol's chest gradually began to unwind.
Mr. Shin placed a hand on Seungcheol's shoulder with a proud smile. "Seungcheol, there's someone I want you to meet. My daughter has just returned from her studies abroad. I think you and she will get on very well."
Seungcheol turned, and his eyes fell upon her. You stood a few feet away, draped in a gown the color of pale lavender mist, your silver mask edged with delicate lace and tipped with tiny feathers. You moved with the quiet elegance of someone used to hushed conversations and a world of privilege, your gaze scanning the room until it met his.
In that instant, the hum of conversation and music faded away, replaced by the crystal clear peal of wedding bells. The sound seemed to ring solely in his ears, the universe announcing that it had just struck the first note of a song that would change everything. They stared at each other for a breath too long, the question hanging unspoken between them.
He saw the subtle, knowing smile on Mrs. Shin's face.
The faint echo of bells lingered in his ears even as the normal symphony of the ballroom resumed. But for Seungcheol, time itself seemed to have warped, to have slowed. His soulmate.
He had finally found you.
The relief, the joy that should have flooded him… was there, but it was tempered by something else entirely. Fate, it seemed, was playing its own cruel game. You were twenty. Fresh, naive, just beginning to navigate the world.
Ten years his junior.
And you were the daughter of Mr. Shin, the man who had been a guiding light in his professional life for over a decade. The entire situation felt impossibly unreal, somehow forbidden. This couldn't be right.
Could it?
Just as he was forcing himself to focus, his gaze still locked on yours, Mr. Shin's voice cut through his thoughts, calm and composed. He reached out and gently touched your head as he spoke to you with an expression of fatherly affection.
"I'm looking to retire soon, of course, but before I do, I need to make sure she's ready for the challenges ahead."
He then turned to Seungcheol, his smile unwavering but his eyes sharp and determined. "I need someone to help guide her, Seungcheol. Someone with experience, someone I can trust implicitly within this industry, to… show her the ropes." He clapped a hand on Seungcheol's shoulder.
"Before I step down, Seungcheol… would you be willing to take her on? Perhaps for mentorship, or some hands-on training? No one learns better than through experience, after all."
The room suddenly felt stifling. Seungcheol's fingers tightened on his champagne glass, the smooth surface cool against his suddenly clammy skin. Not only had he just met his soulmate, he was now being asked to personally induct her into the very industry that had consumed ten years of his life, into the same cutthroat environment he had only recently learned to survive.
And she would be in his life every single day.
His soulmate, his mentor's daughter, his future trainee. His knees nearly buckled, but he offered a weak, polite smile and nodded, because what other choice did he have?
"... Of course, sir," He said, voice steady despite the quiet chaos behind it. "I'd be honored."
But in his mind, there was only one thought: this is going to be a problem.
As if sensing the moment had grown too full, Mr. And Mrs. Shin politely excused themselves to greet other guests, leaving Seungcheol standing face-to-face with the person who had just unknowingly disrupted the stability he had clung to for years, you.
He watched you for a second longer, trying to find the right words, or any words at all. You looked up at him too, unsure yet calm. Composed, despite the thunderous sound that only the two of you had heard. And then, gently, your voice slipped out from behind your mask.
"So... I guess we heard it." You said quietly, referring to the wedding bells.
Seungcheol let out a short breath, a dry chuckle escaping him. "Yeah. We did."
A pause hung between you. Heavy, but not uncomfortable, more like the silence that comes when something profound has settled in the space.
"I'm Choi Seungcheol," he said, dipping his head politely. "But I assume you already knew that."
You gave a polite little curtsy, unable to suppress a small smile. "And I'm Shin Y/N." You tilted your head a bit. That earned a faint, genuine smile from him.
The orchestra shifted to a softer tune, one that made the chandeliers shimmer with each drawn note. Around you, the world moved on. Guests swayed on the dance floor, laughter floated in waves-but between you and Seungcheol, the air remained still.
"I didn't expect this," he admitted. "Tonight, or... You."
You let out a small laugh. "You mean you didn't expect your soulmate to be twenty years old?"
His eyes widened a little, surprised by your boldness, before he shook his head slowly with the ghost of amusement on his face. "Was I that obvious?"
"Just a little," you teased. "But it's alright. I didn't expect my soulmate to be someone my parents literally worship either. So I think we're even."
He looked at you, really looked, and saw more than just his senior's daughter. He saw someone with her own mind, her own spark. Not just someone being pushed into his world, but someone who could make space in it.
"If this gets overwhelming," He said suddenly, voice a little softer, a little more real, "just say so. I won't rush into anything. I know this is... A lot."
You raised a brow, your gaze gentle. "Why do you sound like you're the one overwhelmed?"
He paused, as if your words peeled away a layer of him.
"... Because I've spent years building a life I could control." He said quietly.
You smiled behind your mask. "Then maybe I'm here to teach you how to let go. Just a little."
That caught him off guard. A breath of silence passed... And then, he laughed, low and genuine, maybe for the first time all week.
"...I think you might be." he murmured. And just like that, under the soft music, crystal chandeliers, and masks that hid just enough but revealed just as much. The world had quietly started to change for Choi Seungcheol.
The next day arrived with polished shoes, pressed suits, and a strangely quickened heartbeat that Seungcheol couldn't quite explain, not until his office door was knocked on, sharp and polite.
His secretary peeked in with a gentle smile, then stepped aside. "Young Miss Shin has arrived, sir." And then you stepped in behind her.
For a moment, just a moment, Choi Seungcheol forgot how to breathe.
At the masquerade, your mask had hidden part of your face, letting only your voice and eyes do the talking. But now, standing there in the light of his office, dressed professionally yet effortlessly graceful, you looked nothing short of a princess sent straight from a fairytale.
Your features were delicate, your posture refined, and your smile-
God, that smile.
You bowed deeply, a full 90-degree gesture of respect. "It's an honor to work under you, Mr. Choi."
That broke something in him, just for a second. He almost gulped, throat tightening as he tried to suppress the warmth crawling up his neck. His jaw clenched lightly, keeping his face composed as always, but his eyes... His eyes betrayed him for a heartbeat too long.
His soulmate was bowing to him like a subordinate, like he wasn't losing his grip on the damn air in the room.
"Thank you," He managed, his voice still firm but quieter than usual. "you may begin today."
He cleared his throat and quickly looked away, standing up and adjusting his cufflinks just to buy time.
"You may return to your tasks." He told his secretary, who gave a small nod and closed the door behind her.
Now, it was just the two of you. The air shifted again. Quiet, but not cold, just full. You stepped forward softly, hands tucked behind your back, walking with a quiet elegance that echoed across the floor of his office. You stopped just short of his desk, leaned forward a little, and smiled.
"I wish for a happy time working with you, Mr. Choi."
His heart skipped a full beat. He blinked once, then twice. He internally cursed himself for how fast his chest reacted, how your presence so effortlessly chipped away at the steel mask he had worn for years.
"... Don't get too comfortable." He muttered under his breath, turning slightly away as he pretended to check something on his desk.
He picked up a pen, but forgot what document it was for. Clearing his throat again, he motioned for you to sit on the chair in front of his desk.
"Take out a pen and a notebook." He said briskly, avoiding your eyes. "If you want to be the next CEO of your father's company, you'll need to start by remembering a few things."
Still smiling, you sat down and pulled out your notebook obediently.
"Rule number one," He continued, finally looking at you again, but carefully now, like one wrong glance would unravel him. "no one cares about your title. Earn their respect with competence, not your last name."
You nodded, scribbling it down.
"Rule two," He said, watching the way your hair fell slightly as you wrote. "always know more than you speak. And listen more than you think."
You lifted your head just enough to meet his gaze and softly replied, "That sounds exactly like you, Mr. Choi."
His pen almost slipped from his hand. He coughed once more, this time trying to suppress the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
"Rule three," He said sharply, eyes back on your notebook. "Stop charming your mentor. It's distracting."
You giggled, quiet, warm, and knowing.
He didn't say it out loud, but deep down, he already knew that this was going to be a long, dangerous, beautiful mentorship.
The first few hours of your mentorship under Choi Seungcheol moved swiftly, on the surface. He'd given his instructions to you precisely, his tone as professional as always as he guided you through the departments, introduced you to the key team members and showed you what made his company tick like a well-oiled machine. To the outside world, it was just another day of perfection from the CEO.
But those who worked under him, those sharp-eyed individuals who were perpetually silent but constantly observant, noticed the shift in their boss. It wasn't obvious. No forced smiles stretched to the limit of his features, no elaborate gestures were made. Instead, it was the almost unnoticeable lean of his body when he spoke to you. It was the minute drop in tone whenever he said your name. It was the linger of his gaze on you whenever he'd thought you weren't looking. And most obviously, the soft, unnervingly gentle expression in his eyes when he'd watched you jot down notes or cock your head.
To them, Choi Seungcheol was… different.
But in his own mind, he was anything but. He was just doing what he was supposed to do. What Mr. Shin had tasked him with. To guide you, to educate you, to show you the ropes. Then why did standing beside you feel like the only moment his lungs could breathe in air that wasn't suffocating him? Every time you walked with him and your arm brushed his, his chest would ache with a sense of release, as though the pressure he'd unknowingly been carrying for years was finally, infinitesimally lifting.
It must be the soulmate bond, he told himself, dismissing the sudden weightlessness that seemed to blossom in his chest. There was no other explanation. Still, even he couldn't explain the strange calm you exuded whenever the silence settled between them. Your presence was silent, yet it somehow grounded him, its quiet aura an alien but soothing balm to his constant anxiety.
For a man like Choi Seungcheol, someone who lived and breathed pressure, your calmness was entirely unfamiliar… and almost terrifying. Not in a threatening way, but in a foreign, "what is this emotion and how do I function with it?" way.
He was in the process of explaining the operational hierarchy of his company to you when his attention faltered as he saw you look up at him. Your eyes were unwavering, soft and laced with what seemed like unwavering respect and trust. He felt a blank come over his mind, a sudden loss of consciousness in regards to what he was trying to say.
"…And that department handles the…" He paused, staring at the company floorplan on the wall as though it had personally wronged him. "…um… the logistics team?" you finished, tilting your head questioningly.
He cleared his throat, nodding once. "Right. The logistics team."
His voice, though returning to its usual cadence, was tinged with the panic screaming inside him.
Thankfully, a knock on his office door saved him. His secretary, Eunhee, peeked her head around the corner.
"Sir, your meeting starts in fifteen minutes."
A lifesaver.
"Right. Thank you." He quickly replied, straightening his posture. He turned to you, his voice crisp but not unkind. "I need to prepare. Eunhee will show you the rest of the office when she gets back."
You nodded politely.
"Of course, Mr. Choi."
He walked out, perhaps a tad too quickly, and closed his office door, locking it as he entered. A deep exhale escaped him as he slumped against his desk, raking a hand through his hair before glaring at a spot on the wall and muttering to himself.
"…Wake up, Choi Seungcheol."
He then glanced at his reflection in the dark computer screen, grimacing before opening his meeting files.
The meeting room was quiet and impeccably furnished, filled with executives from all department heads seated around a long, polished conference table. A finance officer stood at the head of the room, presenting their quarterly projections. Charts and graphs flashed on a large screen at the back.
From the outside, Choi Seungcheol appeared completely himself, dressed in a tailored suit, eyes sharp and gaze steady, a calm demeanor at the front of the room.
However, his hand revealed a telltale sign.
It tapped rhythmically on the tabletop before settling into a silent spin. His silver pen twirled continuously between his fingers, an unconscious habit as smooth and effortless as breathing. It was precise, yes, but it wasn't a reflection of his focus. His eyes remained fixed on the projected slides, but his mind was miles away from the sterile room and the droning financial reports.
It was stuck in a hallway. A hallway filled with your soft footsteps, your voice resonating in his memory as you had tilted your head with that innocent smile and said, "I wish for a happy time working with you, Mr. Choi."
His heart rate quickened again.
He discreetly loosened the top button of his shirt, feeling an unnecessary warmth creep up his neck. Get a grip, Seungcheol. Someone directed a question his way, and he answered automatically, his response professionally brief and to the point, only a fraction of a second too slow to warrant suspicion. The pen began to spin again, faster this time.
Why was this happening to him?
He had dealt with crises, negotiated multi-million-dollar deals, and turned around entire struggling companies. He'd faced entire boardrooms filled with foreign investors and even hostile government officials. Yet here he was, playing with a pen like a naive intern, utterly preoccupied with the memory of a girl with eyes like calm waters and a presence that somehow quieted the relentless buzz of his life. Not in a vacant way, but in a peaceful way. And Seungcheol was unfamiliar with this feeling… it was almost terrifying.
"Mr. Choi?"
A voice called out, snapping him back to reality.
"Yes?"
He replied, blinking as his gaze returned to the room. All eyes turned towards him. He cleared his throat and nodded slowly. "I agree with the previous point. Let's move forward with scenario B, but include a contingency plan for any potential client-side delays. I will review the schedule proposal by Friday."
The department heads nodded in agreement. The meeting continued, but the pen in Choi Seungcheol's hand continued to spin, and under the table, his leg bounced imperceptibly. He didn't even realize the faint smile that touched his lips.
The meeting concluded without any apparent incident. Executives began to file out, discussing the next steps. Choi Seungcheol lingered for a few moments longer than usual, pretending to examine the printed schedule but his eyes glossing over the lines. When he finally rose, he adjusted his suit jacket, offered a perfunctory nod to his assistant, and walked back to his office.
The corridor remained as it had always been, then he opened his office door, and you were sitting in the guest chair opposite his desk, notebook on your lap, looking up with that disarming smile that had single handedly derailed his focus for the last two hours.
"Oh," You said softly, "Welcome back, Mr. Choi."
He hesitated for a mere fraction of a second before walking in and closing the door.
"Did Eunhee bring you here?"
"She did." You answered, standing as a gesture of politeness. "I didn't want to be in your office without you."
Choi Seungcheol's jaw tightened minutely.
Without me, huh?
He ambled around the desk before sitting down in his own chair, acting as though he hadn't even noticed how your presence seemed to somehow alter the room. He put down the stack of notes, never looking at them. You remained standing at the edge of the desk still holding your notebook, waiting patiently-as always-and in complete control.
God, he hated how that made him so uncomfortable.
"Did you find the rest of the office tour informative?" he finally looked up, his eyes finally finding yours. You nodded, and once again you approached his desk smoothly and calmly. "Yes, everyone was nice, but..."
You paused for a breath before cocking your head with a smirk. "It was a little dull without you."
His pen bounced once across the surface of his desk when his fingers spasmed, his hand flying to them instinctively. You added hastily, "I mean you explain things better, of course. That's all."
"...Right." He breathed, clearing his throat, his gaze flicking sideways once more before fixing back on your face.
"Shall we resume from where we left off? Take a seat."
You sat down readily, a slight smile playing at your lips as you reopened your notebook.
Seungcheol fought himself, to not let himself look up; to not pay attention to the way your nose crinkled slightly when you considered an idea, not to the soft floral scent of your perfume that somehow made its way between the pages of your notebook, and not to your utterly innocent expression.
His words, however, couldn't hide anything as he explained corporate hierarchy and strategic positioning to you with a softer, lighter tone. He wasn't sure when it had started. He only knew that it's never sounded like that until now.
The sun was setting lower, the light of the sun painting streaks of gold across the tall buildings outside of his office. As time drew to an end for the day, his colleagues began to file out, flicking off lights one by one before wishing each other a good night. He was tidying up the last few remaining pieces on his desk when you called out his name.
"Mr. Choi?" You stood there, bag already slung across your shoulder. "I think my driver forgot to come for me. I tried calling but… nothing."
He instantly looked up from what he was doing, his brows furrowing together in concern.
"Did your father not send someone for you?"
you shook your head, looking slightly more bothered now than before. "Both of my parents are working extra today, and so is the housekeeper. I can just wait; it's alright. I'll figure something out."
He stared at you for a second more before the instinct kicked in, and he reached for his phone. Dialing Mr. Shin with a practised speed, he spoke.
"Mr. Shin," His voice was professional as always. "this is Seungcheol. I was just calling to ask whether I should arrange one of my drivers to drop Y/N-"
"Why aren't you bringing my daughter home?" Mr. Shin's voice boomed over the phone, amused. "You know my place; I'm sure my daughter trusts you."
His brain short-circuited.
"I- uh…" He stammered, his voice cracking a little.
"Yes, Mr. Shin. Of course. If that's what you prefer."
"You'll be fine." Mr. Shin chirped. "Good luck!"
And with that, he promptly hung up.
The silence that descended upon his office was suddenly, jarringly deafening. Seungcheol lowered his phone slowly, blinking at the black screen as if it had just betrayed him.
"So?" Your voice chimed in again, a light touch on the doorway this time. "What did he say?"
Seungcheol let out a sigh, head tilting back for a moment towards the ceiling as a soft groan of defeat escaped his lips. He looked at you, one brow lifted.
"Pack up your things," He grumbled, already reaching for his jacket. "we're leaving. I'll drive you home."
A delighted hum filled the air as you scurried to keep pace, your bag swinging as he flicked off the office light. They stepped into the elevator, the air still and peaceful but his heart racing just a little bit faster, and it wasn't with the burden of responsibility but because he was beside you again, heading towards the kind of quiet that wasn't so uncomfortable anymore.
This day was rapidly going off script, and they hadn't even gotten into the car yet.
The ride was a quiet, almost suffocating affair. You sat beside him, hands resting delicately in your lap, bag at your feet. He sat in the driver's seat, and he couldn't stop fiddling with the rearview mirror, not because it needed fixing, but just so he didn't have to look at you.
This was… new. His soulmate sitting next to him in his car, in his personal space, which had previously always been an area designated solely for contemplation or solitude. Now? It felt almost as if you were too close for comfort, too warm.
He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter when you finally spoke, your voice soft and playful.
"You don't talk a lot when you drive, do you?" His knuckles turned white.
"I'm focused."
"On not getting us killed, or on avoiding looking at me?"
You teased, and his jaw tightened. Your voice… It was light, melodic, like music that effortlessly settled into the rhythm of the quiet car, wrapping around him with a delicate pressure.
He prayed that the light ahead wouldn't stay red for too long; he could practically feel himself melting into the seat. And then, you added it. "Just so you know, I didn't get a chance to ask… is it okay that I'm here? In the front?"
He felt his throat tighten.
"It's fine," He managed, his gaze glued to the road. "you're my passenger."
But you were so much more than just his passenger, you were his soulmate, and you looked at him as if you could read his very thoughts. He was holding it all together by a thread, his grip on the steering wheel never eased, his heart hammering against his ribs in a dangerous rhythm.
He had no idea what expression graced your face, not until you touched him. It was just a gentle brush of your fingertips across his knuckles, perhaps intended to reassure him. But the electric current that shot through his entire arm? The warmth that seeped into his skin, soothing the wild chaos within him? It was too much. His heart stuttered, and he almost crashed.
"-Shit!"
He swore under his breath as the car drifted slightly to the left. A loud honk blared in their direction. Seungcheol reacted instantly, wrenching the steering wheel to the right, crossing momentarily into an empty lane before easing the car onto the side of the road, coming to a halt with a tremor.
He let out a heavy breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. His hands still on the steering wheel, eyes wide, jaw clenched, and adrenaline surging through his veins. Beside him, you were laughing full out, unapologetic laughter that shook your shoulders.
"Y-You almost…!" You giggled between bursts of laughter, "… crashed because I touched your hand? Seriously?"
He should have been embarrassed, or even angry. Instead, a slow smile spread across his lips as he leaned back into his seat, the tension seeping from his muscles.
"You're dangerous," He murmured, half-exasperated, half-amused. "way too dangerous."
You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, your chest still heaving slightly.
"I'm sorry! I really didn't expect that."
He tutted, a small chuckle finally escaping him. "Don't touch me while I'm driving, or you might not just 'almost' crash next time."
You playfully put a hand over your heart. "Understood, sir. No touching the CEO."
With one last lingering look and a sigh that hid a small smile, he turned the engine back on. The rest of the drive was quiet once again, but this silence was different; it was filled with a quiet warmth.
The next day, Choi Seungcheol showed up at the office ten minutes earlier than usual. Hair perfectly in place, tie neatly knotted, suit immaculately pressed. He had a plan already drawn up in his head.
Today, he told himself, would be different. No distractions. He would remain calm, professional, detached, even. He was a CEO, after all. Not a gawky college student with a crush on the lab assistant.
And then, you walked in. Just as tranquil as ever, a soft aura woven into your every movement. A polite bow, a genuine smile that crinkled your eyes, and then your gaze met his across the hallway.
Your smile widened, and he blinked once.
Not today, he reminded himself, adjusting his cuffs. Stay focused, Choi Seungcheol.
You followed him into his office, as you usually did. Placing your notebook on the desk with an audible snap of paper. "Good morning, Mr. Choi."
Your voice was still the same soothing honey you'd used yesterday. He suppressed a sudden, unwarranted jump in his pulse and gave a tight nod. "Morning, let's go over the schedule."
He promptly turned his back, eager to avoid the potential for getting caught looking. But you weren't done yet. You tilted your head, a playful curiosity in your eyes. "You sleep okay after yesterday's near-death experience?"
He froze.
Teasing, again. His jaw tightened and he let out a soft snort.
"It wasn't 'near-death'."
"It was close enough." You chirped, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "I thought you were about to start writing your will in that parking lane."
He slowly closed his laptop, his eyes meeting yours again. "Are we done?"
You grinned, a spark in your gaze. "Maybe."
He clicked his pen twice. The rhythm, a frantic attempt to maintain composure and push away the lingering echo of your laughter from the day before.
"Right," He mumbled, clearing his throat. "let's move onto today's shadowing."
You, however, had your own agenda. You stayed nearby, not touching, not overtly suggestive, just present. You asked astute questions, tilted your head when listening, your gaze fixed on him with a gentle admiration he couldn't ignore.
Your voice… still that syrupy sweetness. Your tone… still respectfully deferential, but never dull. He felt himself slowly sinking, and he knew with absolute certainty you were aware of it. You were actively doing it.
He tried to keep distance, telling you to observe from the corner during a department meeting. You did, and afterward, you thanked him, calling his approach "insightful and clean-cut.". He asked you to grab him coffee, hoping you'd take a break and leave.
You returned ten minutes later, holding a second cup—his favorite, inexplicably.
He stared at you, dumbfounded.
"How did you know that's what I drink?"
You tilted your head, a tiny smile playing on your lips. "You mentioned it once. I remembered."
He said nothing, simply took the cup, the warmth spreading through his hand doing little to mask the fire in his chest.
By lunchtime, he was cornered, mentally and emotionally. You peeked into his office again after a brief team session, hands clasped behind your back like a child with a secret.
"I've organized the budget review files. Would you like me to bring them now, Mr. Choi?"
He managed a nod.
"Yes, please."
You entered, but instead of dropping them on his desk, you approached, slow and deliberate, setting the stack beside him, leaning just a bit closer.
Then, you whispered, your voice like silk. "You're doing really great, you know."
He turned his head so quickly he nearly wrenched his neck. You stepped back instantly, that same sweet expression plastered on your face.
"Just thought someone should let you know."
He gaped at you, utterly caught off guard. You offered another bright smile.
"I'll head back to my desk now."
With that, you turned and walked away, as if you hadn't just sent his heart ricocheting off his ribs. He leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand over his face, mumbling under his breath.
"…I'm doomed."
Per Mr. Shin's previous request, Seungcheol knew that in order to properly mentor you, you would need to start attending some internal meetings—the important ones. This meeting definitely qualified.
As soon as the conference room doors closed, the air was thick with anticipation.
You sat next to him, with his secretary a seat over, while on the other side of the long glass table, the team from the opposing company were impeccably dressed, utterly clueless, and woefully out of touch. The presentation was… passable, at first. Clean numbers and stable projections, but the moment they reached the slide titled "Strategic Timeline for Implementation", things took a turn.
Seungcheol's eyes narrowed.
The speaker blathered on, droning about outdated strategies and collaborations with partners Seungcheol had long since identified as liabilities. Slowly, deliberately, Seungcheol raised a hand.
"Hold it."
The speaker faltered, mid-sentence. Seungcheol gestured towards the screen. "This part. You need to rethink this strategy. We've already seen volatility in those markets. Associating with them puts the entire project at risk."
The man at the other end of the table offered a strained smile. "We appreciate your concern, Mr. Choi, but altering the current timeline could potentially strain our relationship with the local representatives. It could send the wrong signal."
Seungcheol's expression hardened. "I said it needs to change."
The tension in the room tightened perceptibly. His voice remained steady, but the undercurrent was a clear, unmistakable threat. Even his secretary lowered her eyes. You watched him, the veins in his hand bulging, his knuckles turning white against the glass table. His posture was rigid, his jaw set as he fought back the fury building within him.
You hesitated. You'd never seen him this serious before, this cold, so unyieldingly… himself. But something inside you… stirred.
He's your boss, and yes, you're a little scared, but you couldn't let him get consumed by the storm he was desperately containing. So, gently, almost imperceptibly to anyone else, you reached beneath the table and touched his clenched knuckles. The tension in his hand evaporated instantly.
He didn't flinch, didn't even glance your way, but he felt it, a small, anchoring anchor in the chaos. His eyes returned to the presenter, his shoulders dropped ever so slightly, and then, calm, steady, dangerous, he spoke again.
"I said what are the cons of not changing. If you are unwilling to change," He began, his voice measured and chilling. "I can already predict your company's failure, and by extension, your company dragging mine down with it."
The room fell silent.
"Therefore," He continued, folding his hands neatly in front of him. "I suggest you revise it. Or I cease collaborating with you."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping a fraction. "This is not a negotiation, this is a statement."
A beat of utter silence. The opposing speaker swallowed hard, nodded almost imperceptibly. "Understood… We will revise it."
Seungcheol gave a single, satisfied nod.
"Good."
The remainder of the meeting was a breezy procession of acquiescence. Everyone seemed to have magically agreed to everything.
As it concluded, participants rose slowly, gathering their documents and attempting to feign normalcy. You remained seated, stealing a glance at him.
The moment the last guest left the office building and the massive oak doors to the meeting room slammed shut behind them, Seungcheol slumped in his chair, releasing a slow, deep exhale. Only then did his gaze shift to you, the only one remaining. It wasn't harsh or menacing, merely… aware.
"Thanks." He grunted, his voice barely a whisper.
You blinked. "For what?"
He paused, offering a small, dry smile before answering. "For stopping me from tipping that table over."
A soft chuckle escaped your lips. "Glad I could avert a lawsuit."
He laughed under his breath, running a hand through his tousled hair. "You're a sneaky one, you know that?"
You tilted your head, an innocent query playing on your features.
"Me? I just touched your hand."
"Exactly," he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours. "That's the problem."
The heavy oak doors to the meeting room sealing the tension that had permeated the air moments before into the confines of the room. Silence settled around the two of you, a welcome respite. Seungcheol still sat at the head of the table, the rigidity in his shoulders beginning to soften, the set of his jaw relaxing, but he remained seated, not yet ready to break the quiet.
He turned his gaze toward you, then it dropped to your hands. They lay folded gently in your lap, fingers loosely curled, relaxed. The same hands that had steadied him just minutes prior with a simple touch. His eyes held on to them for a beat too long, and you noticed.
A light giggle bubbled up from your chest, making his head snap back toward you with a startled expression, though the look on your face was purely fond. You scooted closer to his side, and without hesitation or question, reached out and gently cupped his hands in both of yours. Your palms were warm, your hold not weak but firm and secure, as if you were anchoring him.
At first, he stiffened, unaccustomed to being held in such a way. But when he looked up and met your eyes, something in him seemed to thaw, like a small, crack in a dam. You smiled, a sweet, reassuring curve of your lips, and spoke with a calmness he'd rarely heard.
"Hold onto mine if you want. I'm always here beside you."
The words weren't shouted; they weren't dramatic. But they hit him like a ton of bricks. He felt a catch in his throat, a hesitation in his usually decisive fingers before they slowly, tentatively, curled around yours. The tight pressure in his chest eased, the jagged edges of his thoughts softened, replaced by the quiet warmth that seeped into his bloodstream, driving out the residual frustration and anger.
It felt dangerous, it felt addictive, but most of all, it felt right. He couldn't speak, his gaze locked on yours, mesmerized. You simply smiled back, as if time had stretched out before you, allowing you to patiently wait for him to catch his breath.
And eventually, he did.
"... You're trouble." He whispered, his lips barely moving. You laughed again, a soft, musical sound.
"You've told me that before."
He shook his head slowly. "Even more so now."
Still, he didn't let go.
The day had finally drawn to a close. One by one, the office lights blinked off, and employees filed out of the building, their voices dwindling as they departed.
Seungcheol grabbed his jacket and briefcase from his desk, preparing to head out, when his secretary intercepted him near the elevator.
"Mr. Choi," She announced with a small nod towards you, who stood near the main entrance, patiently waiting. "Ms. Y/N doesn't have a ride."
He blinked once, then again. His eyes flicked to you. You were engrossed in your phone, a soft, melodic hum accompanying your scrolling.
Just like yesterday… Suspicious.
Just then, you looked up, meeting his gaze with a cheerful smile. His suspicions immediately melted away into an exasperated sigh.
"... She's doing this on purpose." He muttered, loud enough for you to hear. Nonetheless, he gestured toward his car. "Let's go."
You fell in step beside him, your enthusiasm radiating even in the evening twilight. Once inside the car, you didn't miss a beat, making a beeline for the passenger seat and settling in as if it were your designated spot. Seungcheol got into the driver's seat and started the engine, pulling out onto the street.
The silence within the car returned, peaceful yet buzzing with a subtle energy. His focus was on the road, though he couldn't deny the distraction that was you.
Then your voice, soft and tinged with mischief, broke the quiet. "Do you want to get late supper?"
The car didn't swerve, but his grip on the steering wheel tightened. He glanced at you, his expression a mix of confusion and mild annoyance.
Late supper? That was not part of his rigidly structured itinerary. His day consisted of: work, shower, meticulously towel-dry his hair for exactly two minutes, collapse onto his bed, wake up, repeat. Spontaneous activities were not on the menu. And yet, here you were, blinking at him with an innocent expression.
At the next red light, he turned his head fully to face you.
"Late supper?" He repeated, as if the words themselves were foreign.
You nodded. "I know a few places still open that cater to people like me."
People like you? What did that even mean? Was he to assume you were a nocturnal wanderer, flitting from one food stall to another without a care in the world? The thought of such chaos, such a deviation from his meticulously planned existence, was alarming. But… tantalizingly so.
While his logical brain screamed about disruption, his heart was already halfway there. He stared at you, his gaze steady, and you stared back, your innocent demeanor either a stroke of genius or complete oblivion. He let out a long, defeated sigh, closing his eyes for a moment.
"Key in the address."
You beamed, happily typing the location into his GPS.
As he drove through the green light, a grimace of surrender on his face, he caught a flash of amusement in your eyes. And for the first time, the idea of change didn't feel entirely unwelcome. The city lights shimmered against the dark sky like fallen stars, and neon signs glowed in the distance, illuminating narrow streets and bustling night markets.
The GPS guided Seungcheol through a maze of twists and turns before bringing him to a halt beside a small collection of food stalls nestled between two buildings. The air hummed with the irresistible aromas of grilled meats, crispy batter, and fragrant broth. It was a stark contrast to the opulent dining establishments CEO Choi Seungcheol frequented, but he was here nonetheless.
You hopped out of the car with a bright grin, the sound of your shoes tapping against the pavement a soft punctuation to the urban symphony. You turned back to face him as he slowly closed the car door, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with a curious gaze.
"First time?" You asked, your eyes sparkling under the streetlights.
"Yeah…" He admitted, smoothing the front of his jacket. "very first."
You giggled, pulling your arms around yourself. "Same, but I felt like exploring, and I figured... Food like this would probably taste better if you didn't have to worry about keeping your elbows off the table."
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "That's what everyone says before they get food poisoning."
You shoot him a mock glare. "You're such a corporate man."
"And you're reckless." He muttered, but followed you.
You led him toward a stall that served piping-hot tteokbokki, skewers shimmering alongside it. The ahjumma tending to the stall beamed at you, patting a nearby stool. The two of you sank onto its wobbly plastic legs, under a dangling light bulb and before a scarred wooden table. And yet, for some reason, it was unexpectedly…peaceful to Seungcheol.
You pushed a pair of chopsticks into his hand and smiled.
"Let's try to act like we just left a board meeting."
Seungcheol's gaze fell upon the bubbling bowl. There was no plated silver, no stemware; just steaming, red, spicy broth against the crisp night air. It was…warm, yet messy. He skewered a rice cake, gave it a brief, cooling blow and took a bite. His eyebrows arched subtly.
"…It's not bad."
You chuckled.
"Not bad? That's it? That's your formal critique?"
He nodded, his eyes already zeroed in on the next potential morsel.
"Spicy. A hint of sweet. Tender texture. Well-balanced."
You groaned theatrically. "God, you're reviewing this like you're Anthony Bourdain."
"I am a CEO. What else do you expect?"
Your laugh again lightened the tension in the night air. As you ate, the conversation gradually loosened up. You discussed small details: preferences in street food, unlikely bucket-list goals, silly anecdotes from high school.
Seungcheol found himself leaning in, laughing under his breath at your antics, even neglecting the persistent hum of his phone. He was so lost in conversation that he hadn't even noticed how relaxed he'd become. Tie slightly askew, sleeves pushed up, a fish cake skewer precariously balanced in his chopsticks. You offered him a tissue when he paused to dab at the corner of his mouth, cheeks slightly flushed from the spicy heat.
"Next time," you said between mouthfuls, "we could go for grilled skewers by the river. Apparently, they're open till 3AM."
His eyes snapped to yours.
Next time?
A knot of panic twisted in his chest. This was quickly becoming a pattern. But the other knot, the one warming in the center of his sternum, fluttered in response. It didn't mind.
By the time the last skewer had been demolished and the table was wiped clean, you were both back on your feet. As you fumbled in your bag for your wallet, already pulling out a handful of bills, Seungcheol's hand gently intercepted yours, pushing it aside with a decisive.
Before you could process his intent, he was paying the ahjumma with crisp cash, his fingers counting out the change with professional efficiency.
He gave her a brief nod, not looking at you as you stared in wide-eyed disbelief. Neither of you spoke as you climbed back into the car, the interior smelling comfortingly of leather, cedar, and coffee. As the engine rumbled to life, you turned your head, a spark of curiosity in your eyes.
"How did you have cash money in your pocket?"
He glanced at you, his free hand adjusting the air conditioning with a languid motion, and a slow, languid smile spread across his lips. "I'm not always a card guy, okay?"
You scoffed good-naturedly. "Right. A card and cash guy who doesn't know how to relax."
His laugh vibrated through you then, a low, rumbling sound that did unsettling things to your insides. It didn't stop there, though. He opened his mouth to say something else and noticed then, your seatbelt unbuckled. His gaze dropped from your eyes to the strap and back to you.
"Seatbelt." He murmured, his voice a mere whisper, but instead of waiting for you to secure it, he leaned across you, and you froze.
The air between you thinned to nothing. One of his arms brushed past your shoulder, his fingers expertly clicking the buckle into place. His cologne, expensive and warm, filled your senses, obscuring even your own breath. He wasn't aware of your sudden stillness. He didn't register the involuntary hitch in your inhale or the fluttering of your eyelashes like frantic butterflies trying to regain composure. It was merely a practical action.
To you? It was entirely too close, entirely too sudden.
He retracted his arm, leaned back in the driver's seat, and offered you a placid smile as his hands found the steering wheel.
"Ready to head back?" He asked, as if your heart hadn't just tried to escape your chest and take flight.
You met his gaze for a moment longer, lips parted, an incoherent jumble of "thank you" and "ahhhhh" caught somewhere between your tongue and the roof of your mouth. Finally, a shaky nod.
"Yeah…" You managed, your voice a quiet squeak. "Ready."
Sunlight streamed softly through the thin curtains in Seungcheol's penthouse, falling warm and gentle upon his impeccably organized walk-in closet. Racks of crisp white shirts, sharp tailored blazers, perfectly pressed trousers, and a tasteful collection of designer watches stood arranged on walls like a curated exhibit. He was currently standing before the full-length mirror in his room, dressed in a clean white button-down shirt, the charcoal grey blazer carelessly tossed over his arm.
His hair was still damp and slightly tousled from the shower, falling softly across his forehead.
And still, a frown etched itself across his face. Something was...off. On instinct, his hands reached for the blazer, pulling it off and replacing it with a navy counterpart. He buttoned the cuffs meticulously and stared at his reflection, tilting his head this way and that.
No, too stiff.
He tried again. Swapped the navy for a muted sand-coloured jacket, loosened his collar a fraction, and peered at himself.
Too soft.
A sigh escaped his lips.
"This is ridiculous." He muttered, running a hand through his already styled hair.
Today, there was no press conference, no grand company gala, no delegation from an international board flying in to address the executives. Just a normal day at the office.
But then again... You would be there. And that alone was enough to make his entire well-stocked wardrobe suddenly feel inadequate. He couldn't even pinpoint when this habit started, this growing compulsion to present himself a little bit better each morning, beginning today.
All he knew was that your eyes, always bright and alert, lingered for just a moment too long whenever you looked his way. And the way you smiled, a subtle, warm upturn of your lips as if he was someone deserving of such an expression... He wanted to live up to that.
He'd considered at least three different watches before settling on a Piaget Polo Date. He'd switched out his typically understated, slim-framed glasses for a bolder, more commanding pair. He'd applied a light spritz of Creed brand cologne. Then, he took a step back, giving his entire appearance a once-over.
The blazer was impeccably tailored, the tie just slightly unbuttoned for a touch of casual elegance, the hair perfectly artfully messy, and a hint of self-assured smirk present on his lips, just enough to not appear over the top. Still, he let out a low chuckle and shook his head.
Taking one final, critical look in the mirror and drawing a small breath to quell the flutter in his chest, he grabbed his keys and headed out.
The building's automatic doors glided open with a soft sigh of air as Seungcheol stepped into the lobby. Polished marble floors reflected the low morning light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Staff members were gradually filtering in, exchanging pleasantries, and preparing for the day ahead.
And then, his eyes landed on you. You were standing near the entrance, engaged in a light conversation with the receptionist, a gentle smile playing on your lips that seemed to suspend time. You were simple yet radiant. Your hair neatly tied back, and your blouse tucked into a modest skirt. And to Seungcheol, you were utterly captivating.
Perhaps it was the angle of the light hitting your face, or the soft cadence of your voice, or maybe, it was just the magic of you being you. Regardless, as soon as your gaze lifted and met his, he was utterly captivated. You turned to him fully, a brief spark of surprise in your eyes that quickly melted into a warm curiosity as your eyes slowly scanned from his face down to his attire.
You blinked once, then twice, and then your lips curved upward in an knowing smile.
"Oh?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow slightly as you crossed your arms over your chest. "New look today, Mr.Choi?"
He tried his best to appear nonchalant, casually adjusting the strap of his watch as if it were an afterthought, as if he hadn't spent a good twenty minutes staring into his closet.
"Just picked out whatever was clean." He stated evenly.
A soft giggle escaped your lips as you took a step closer, your eyes never leaving him. "Well, whatever was clean looks really, really good today."
Seungcheol felt a momentary freeze, not outward, but deep within, a subtle hitch in his breath. You looked back up at his face, tilting your head again, clearly amused by the faint pink creeping up the sides of his ears.
"Are you blushing?"
"I'm not." He said, his voice as flat as he could make it.
"You are."
"Y/N…" He warned, his tone light but the corners of his mouth giving away the smile threatening to break free. You moved to stand beside him as he walked toward the elevator, your stride falling into step with his.
"You know," You said, your gaze drifting to him with a sidelong glance, "if getting dressed up makes you this charming in the morning, I might have to request it more often."
He let out a soft scoff.
"Don't get too used to it."
"But you did it for me, didn't you?" You teased, your voice a low, melodic murmur.
The elevator doors chimed open, and Seungcheol entered, not responding, you following close behind. The space inside suddenly felt smaller than it had before. He stood next to you, hands in his pockets, facing the doors, but you could feel his presence radiating.
You looked up at him with a soft smile. You already knew the answer, and when his reflection caught you in the elevator door, still watching him with quiet affection, you saw it: a small, hesitant smile bloom on his face.
The morning had been... Quiet, or as quiet as things could be when your mentor happened to be your CEO and, oh yeah, your soulmate. You were at your desk outside of Seungcheol's spacious office, dutifully highlighting the important parts of case studies he had assigned earlier, when your phone buzzed softly on the table next to your notebook.
A text message from your mother.
Mom: Your father and I were wondering if Seungcheol is free for lunch today. Just something casual, we'd love to see the two of you together. I've already made a reservation just in case.
You blinked in surprise.
Of course your mother wouldn't wait for your confirmation before booking something. After reading it again, and then again, you stood up, knocked lightly on Seungcheol's office door before pushing it open. He was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his blazer resting on the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up, engrossed in a document. He glanced over his shoulder at your knock.
"Yes?"
You entered, holding out your phone for him to see. "My parents texted. They want to have lunch with you today, and they've already booked something."
He turned to face you, his eyebrows rising slightly in surprise.
"Today?"
You nodded and showed him the text message.
On the surface, he didn't show much of an reaction, but you knew he wasn't the type to take sudden, unexpected plans in stride. His expression remained composed, however, with only a flicker of hesitation before he walked back to his desk and pressed a button on his intercom.
"Cancel the team check-in scheduled for 1PM." He said in a clear, even tone. "And add a lunch appointment under the name Shin family."
"Understood." His secretary responded instantly.
He turned back to you, his gaze unreadable but his tone still level.
"They picked a location, I assume?"
You nodded. "They did, I'll send you the address."
He gave a slow blink, then looked down at the stack of documents on his desk, adjusting his mental calendar on the fly. You offered a faint smile, and he let out a quiet sigh, running a hand up the back of his neck.
"Are you nervous?" He asks softly, eyes softening as they linger on you for a moment.
You pause. "...Maybe a little."
"Why?"
"Because you're… you." You tell him truthfully. "And I know how much they respect you, just as you respect them."
He holds your gaze for another beat before his lips curve, just a little.
"You make it sound like I'm meeting them for the first time." He then clears his throat, and gestures towards his watch. "I'll pick you up from your desk at twelve-thirty."
You nod, and turn to leave, but not before throwing a cheeky smile over your shoulder. "You better dress handsomely again, Mr. Choi."
The only answer you receive is the click of a pen behind you, and a soft, amused exhale.
The restaurant is a hushed, elegantly appointed space; a sanctuary where the tinkle of cutlery is softened by velvet walls and the gentle strains of classical music. The hostess ushers you and Seungcheol to a private room, where your parents are already seated. Your mother is immaculate in pearls, and your father is the picture of refined dignity in a sharp navy suit.
"Seungcheol," Your father addresses him first, standing to offer a hand. Seungcheol gives a slight bow, respectful yet professional. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Mr Shin."
"Likewise. Please, sit."
You slip into the chair beside Seungcheol, across from your parents, your hands clasped demurely in your lap. The initial conversation is exactly as expected. Your father queries him about company expansion, potential partnerships, your training progression under his guidance.
You listen, enthralled, sneaking glances at your mentor as he answers each question with practiced calm and articulate precision.
Everything is proceeding perfectly. And then the food arrives, and with it, the direct hit.
"So," Your mother says casually, picking up her soup spoon. "How is my daughter in your company?"
Seungcheol dabs his lips with a napkin before replying. "She's attentive, observant, and quick to adapt. Not many would have the initiative she's shown in just a few days."
A warmth blooms in your chest at the compliment, and you sit up straighter. But your mother is far from finished.
"And how is she…" She muses, stirring her soup slowly, "…as your soulmate?"
The spoon Seungcheol had been lifting to his lips halts abruptly halfway to his mouth. Then, he chokes, a full, honking choke.
You nearly drop your own spoon, snatching Seungcheol's glass of water and thrusting it towards him with both hands. He takes it immediately, eyes watering, and begins gulping, fast, one, two.
"M-Mom!" You yelp, cheeks burning. "Seriously?!"
Across the table, your mother wears the picture of angelic innocence. "What? I'm just curious."
Your father slowly turns to her, eyebrows raised. "Soulmates?"
Your mother nods, taking a leisurely sip of her tea. "I saw it at the masquerade party. They were staring at each other far too long. I had a feeling something had transpired. So I made a few… connections."
You and Seungcheol freeze. Your mother's gaze flicks between the two of you. Seungcheol, still attempting to swallow his panic and catch his breath, and you, patting his back and staring at your mother as though she has just betrayed a state secret.
She tilts her head. "Am I wrong?"
Silence. You open your mouth, then close it again. You're too stunned to formulate a response. Beside you, Seungcheol lowers the glass with a soft clink, setting it slowly back onto the table, his eyes fixed resolutely on the tablecloth.
He doesn't look up. His fingers clench tightly in his lap. The sheer weight of the unspoken in the room is crushing. He can imagine your father's thoughts. Ten years her senior, the respected work partner… now somehow intrinsically linked to their daughter by destiny.
He's terrified of the judgment, the inevitable shift.
You see it in the tightening of his shoulders, in the unyielding stare directed at the linen. For one agonizingly long moment, the air remains suspended. Then, your father sets down his spoon with a quiet click and leans back in his chair.
"Choi Seungcheol," He states.
Seungcheol snaps to attention, his gaze still downcast. "Yes, sir."
Your father's voice is impossible to read. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Seungcheol hesitates. "Because I… I didn't want to complicate anything. With your daughter… or with you."
Your mother glances from one man to the other, her eyes narrowing slightly. You bite down on your bottom lip, and your father falls silent once more. Then, after a beat that stretches on forever, he speaks.
"You're an honorable man, Seungcheol."
Both you and Seungcheol flinch. Your father continues, his gaze fixed on Seungcheol's averted face. "I knew that from the moment you walked into my office. And that hasn't changed. But now…"
He meets Seungcheol's eyes, his tone deepening.
"That honor means something more. It means you'll protect her."
Seungcheol's head snaps up, his eyes wide with shock.
Your father gives a curt nod. "You didn't choose this, she didn't choose this. But if fate has tied you together, then all I ask is that you treat her with the respect she deserves. Not as your subordinate, not as your intern, but as your equal."
Your jaw drops, and beside you, you hear the shaky release of a breath that had been held for what felt like an eternity.
"I… I will," Seungcheol whispers, his voice hoarse but clear. "I promise you, sir. I will protect her."
Your father nods again, and picks up his soup, as though the weight of the universe hasn't just shifted. Your mother watches, a knowing smirk playing on her lips behind her teacup.
"Well," She chirps brightly. "now that that's out of the way, let's enjoy lunch properly."
The soft click of the car doors echoes in the still air, muted by the hushed enclosure surrounding you and Seungcheol. The engine remains off, unengaged. Seungcheol sits in the driver's seat, hands relaxed on the wheel, gaze fixed unseeingly on the windshield. He's not seeing the road; he's replaying the conversation, the unexpected blessing, the weight of his promise, the gentle assurance in your mother's smile.
He'd braced himself for disapproval, for the polite yet firm refusal. For a million reasons to back down. But what he received… was freedom. The freedom to love you, openly, unabashedly.
Treat her as your equal, his father had said. And god, he would. He'd treat you like precious, fragile royalty. He'd plan dates with meticulous detail, spoil you with a relentless, shamelessly joyful abandon. He'd buy you that charm bracelet you'd admired days ago, and for every anniversary you shared, he'd add a new charm, each one representing a cherished memory.
The pressure he'd been carrying, the careful restraint he'd been forced to maintain, melted away like snow under a spring sun. In its place bloomed something even more profound, and exhilarating: joy. He swallowed hard, feeling the words settle in his chest, carving out space just for you.
Without starting the engine, without breaking the potent silence, he turned his head and found you already watching him lovingly, softly.
Your gaze, as if it could trace the turmoil of emotions playing out in his chest.
You managed a soft, gentle twist of the corner of your mouth. "Hi~"
That one syllable, that one word was enough to make his head reel.
He laughs genuinely, not a strained CEO-laugh-in-a-meeting. A light, easy, breezy, free laugh. His teeth show, his eyes are crinkled, and you join him with a light chuckle as you get swept up in his elation. The laughter then dies into something deeper and quieter, something that sets the air between the two of you crackling with electricity.
His eyes slide down to your lips then to yours.
"May I do something," He asks slowly, voice husky, a little breathy, "that is standard for thirty-year-old me... But may be incredibly embarrassing for you?"
You blink once, your head tilts like a curiosity filled feline, but you nod. And Seungcheol leans in. One hand rises, his fingertips grazing through your hair to support the back of your head. It's a sure and steady hold, as if he has held back for too long. And Seungcheol kisses you, soft and warm and with his eyes closed, no hurried pressure. Just him finally letting all he has been containing for the past several days flood into this one silent kiss.
You instinctively press into him, your lips mirroring his, soft and slow and with intention. And with that kiss, Seungcheol thinks so this is how peace taste, so this is how fate feel.
Pulling back slowly, foreheads brushing, your breath mingles with his. You open your eyes with slow blinking, flushed cheeks, lips parted slightly. "I've been wanting to do that since the masquerade."
Conversation buzzed like static in the sprawling, sun-drenched private room at the city's most sought-after restaurant. The walls seemed to absorb laughter, wine glasses tinkled, and the scent of anticipated food was already wafting through the air, even some hadn't arrived yet.
The door gave a creak, and there he was, Seungcheol, impeccably dressed in a sharp black shirt, sleeves rolled up just enough to tease a glimpse of his watch and prominent veins.
Following him, you slipped into the room, a quiet entrance made all but obvious by the way your fingers were so subtly entwined with his. Heads turned, conversations halted, then-
"Woooooahhhh- what do we have here?!"
"Wait, is that her?!"
"Cheol brought someone?! Willingly?!"
A cacophony of delighted chaos washed over the room as Seungcheol's friends—his brothers, the ones he'd only ever introduced as that—descended on you with eager eyes and boisterous voices.
Mingyu's congratulatory clap on Seungcheol's back nearly sent him stumbling. Soonyoung bounced on the balls of his feet like a kid on Christmas. Seokmin's wide, welcoming grin seemed to outshine the sunlight itself.
They were a whirlwind, a riot, but somehow, they were also so warm.
Before you could even utter a breath, Jeonghan's arm had slung comfortably around your shoulders, as if you'd always belonged there.
"So you're the one who melted our stone-faced CEO, huh?" He said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "God, we've been hearing about you without ever actually knowing your name. It's an honor, truly."
Seungcheol let out a soft, amused chuckle and rolled his eyes. The playful pandemonium continued as everyone eventually settled around the table. Even once the appetizers were cleared and the lively conversation had simmered down into punctuated giggles and wine sips, Jeonghan leaning forward with that familiar glint in his eye.
"You know what's crazy?" He said, gesturing languidly at Seungcheol. "This guy's been dating her for two years and still didn't bag her. Me? I dated my soulmate for three months. Three. Months. I couldn't wait. Already a father, remember those days?"
He proudly tapped the ring on his finger. Laughter rippled around the table; some shook their heads, others rolled their eyes at Jeonghan's flair, and even Seungcheol grinned wide. But he didn't say anything, not yet.
The best part was still to come. As the main courses were finished and desserts began making their appearance, with wine glasses half-empty and minds beginning to blur slightly, Seungcheol slowly rose from his seat, lifting his glass.
"I have two pieces of news." He announced, his voice steady, his smile gentle.
Silence fell over the table, eyes shifting to him. He met your gaze for a brief moment, then turned to the assembled faces.
"First, Y/N will be officially stepping in as CEO of her father's company beginning this year."
The room erupted into a frenzy of cheers, whistles, and applause.
"Yah! That's huge!"
"A power couple, oh my god."
"Don't forget us little people when you both own half the country!"
You ducked your head, cheeks flushing warmly, mouthing a quiet thank you as Seungcheol placed a reassuring hand on your back.
"And the second piece of news…" He continued, a deliberate pause hanging in the air. "…is that she said yes."
A moment of utter bewilderment flickered across everyone's faces. Then, the dam broke.
"Wait- wait- WAIT- WHAT?!"
"SAID YES TO WHAT?!"
"Oh my GOD!"
"You're LYING!"
The table exploded in a riot of stunned disbelief.
Mingyu jumped to his feet so quickly his chair wobbled precariously. Soonyoung's fork clattered to the floor. Jeonghan's jaw slackened in a look straight out of a melodrama.
Seungcheol merely smirked, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. He didn't even bother to open it. The instant it appeared, the collective screaming escalated to new heights. You tentatively held up your hand, heart pounding, the sparkle of the ring on your finger catching the light, accompanied by a soft, beaming smile.
"I'm his fiance." You whispered, shy but utterly firm.
"No. Freaking. Way."
"Since WHEN?!"
"DID YOU DO IT AT WORK?! Was it a boardroom proposal?! TELL ME EVERYTHING!"
The chaos reignited, voices overlapping, hands reaching for the glittering proof, while Seungcheol casually reclaimed his seat beside you, taking a slow sip of his drink as if he hadn't just shattered the reality of every single person at that table. Then, cutting through the din of the celebratory mayhem, he leaned close, his voice a low rumble only you could hear: "You're mine now. Officially."
A flutter bloomed in your chest.
In this room filled with friends and roaring laughter and pure, unadulterated disbelief, you'd never felt more certain. About him, about yourself, about forever.
EN-Komect Heights 🌼 SVT-Raitere Lofts 🌼 Otherworld Plaza 🌼 Verdant Springs 🌼 Pinned Post 🌼 taglist :
WE HAVE CONFIRMATION FROM THE HORSE’S DOBERMAN’S MOUTH
And some potential added context from the youtube comments:
So if this is right, poor Yeosang was trying to think of a word in English that means sexy but starts with E, picked “erotic”, and the Teezers lost it thinking he was calling Mingi a pørnstar 💀🤣
genre: non-idol au, mulan/military au, reader pretends to be a man to replace their father during conscription, depictions of physical violence (battles and death), sexualised language, smut in future parts but will be highlighted in chapter warnings, everyone is a little in love with reader regardless of presenting gender
summary: you joined the army as hyunjin to save your father and found a place that you never imagined for yourself. now, they know you’re a noble lady and you have to find a new peace amongst them, with a new title and some feelings that you aren’t fully prepared to confront.
a/n: my first SVT fic. it was supposed to be a short fic, just figuring out how to write for SVT before I started a collab fic (coming in september!) but instead, it's become this four part series. i hope you like it! please reblog and comment, and let me know if you want to be added to the fic taglist!
chapter 2
series masterlist / main masterlist
network: @andlinked
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The floor was hard when you were dropped on to it, your knees cracking at the landing. You tried to keep your back straight, to look visibly strong even if you didn’t feel it, but the impact sent a wave of discomfort ricocheting through your nerves and you wobbled.
Your bound hands reached out and kept you from dropping face first into the mat. You grit your teeth through any sounds of pain. The noises you make are just as much as victory for the enemy. Seungcheol - Captain Choi, you corrected yourself - had told you that.
The same man who was now staring down at you from the war table, expression blank, eyes dark and unreadable. It was strange to think that he was the enemy now, enjoying your pain in the way he’d warned you about. It hurt in that uncomfortable way when you knew you were the reason for a betrayal and just had to live with the guilt.
You couldn’t say you hadn’t intended to lie. You’d come here already rewriting the story of your life - your name, your history, your future. All reworked and conveyed to every person you met.
You broke their trust and, in the imperial army, trust was paramount.
Around the captain were his generals, the privates and petty officers that you had trained with, laughed with, fought with. They were a lot easier to read than their leader - eyebrows furrowed, watching you like a wild animal, lips pursed.
You could have laughed - it was like they’d never seen a woman before.
You felt more than watched Mingyu crouch at your side. His hands hovered but didn’t quite touch the bandage he’d wrapped around your chest. He murmured a curse to Jun and Vernon, the two who dragged you in. “If you ripped open her stitches, we’re going to have a problem.”
Jun averted his gaze, embarrassed, and Vernon’s jaw tightened.
“It’s fine,” you whispered and cursed yourself for how your voice trembled.
It was strange how in one moment, you were brave, strong and full of adrenaline. The you from before would never have jumped in front of an arrow, would never have been quick enough to get there anyway, but the way you were now, you think you’d do it again in a heartbeat. Without it, your Captain wouldn’t be looking down at you now and you couldn’t bear the thought.
Maybe it was better your battalion looked at you with disgust and hurt than in grief and devastation. You think you could take that.
It was Mingyu who had found out first, the battalion’s lead medic. He’d stripped you with the efficiency of a skilled doctor and then flushed to the tips of his toes at the sight of your tits. You’re pretty sure they all got a good look, before Seungkwan had swung into action, ordering privacy with threat of testicle removal.
When you’d cried - in pain from the embedded arrow head in your right side, heartbroken at the truth and terrified of the consequences - Seungkwan had held your hand against his chest. You’d called him “pretty boy” and he’d given you a wet smile.
You almost wished for that Seungkwan now, the one who could actually look at you.
In the end, it was Jeonghan that spoke to you first. “So it’s true, you really are a woman.” He didn’t say it like an insult, like you were something less than, but still you bristled.
“Was it the tits that gave it away?” You snapped. Like old times, like you were allowed that kind of familiarity.
You weren’t, not anymore. Wonwoo tensed, hand flexing around the handle of his sword. Jeonghan though, he just grinned in wryly amusement. “Are you saying that as Hyunjin or the real you?”
Hyunjin. The name you had given yourself to match your male identity, the name your parents would have given you if you were born masculine.
“Can’t it be both,” you challenged.
“What’s your birth name?” Joshua asked. He stood further in the group, looking every bit like the ideal soldier despite the fighting they’d all barely recovered from. You’d resent him for it if he wasn’t so sweet.
You hesitated and then gave your name, the one you hadn’t spoken to yourself or others in 4 months. It felt wrong to say, clumsy on your tongue.
“Pretty,” Chan said, mild and perfunctory, “it suits you.”
You winced. “Please, don’t.”
The soft words weren’t ones they had ever shared with you but now that your true gender was revealed, it was like talking to a distant suitor. It made your skin crawl and chest ache.
Seungcheol shifted in his chair and eyes snapped to him instinctively. It was a show of how well trained you all were and how respected the captain was.
“Why did you come here?” he asked quietly. He didn’t have to shout for you to know he was angry.
“I was conscripted,” you stated. The same as them all.
Seungcheol’s eyebrows knitted together. “The eldest son was conscripted.”
“And my father has no son, only me,” you pushed. “He... he barely survived the last war and I couldn’t let that happen. Not if I could help.”
“So you became a man,” Jeonghan said.
You sighed. “I became Hyunjin. Hyunjin is me.”
“But he’s not, is he?” Soonyoung interjected, shoulders tense, “Hyunjin is - was, the eldest son, ready to die for his country and you - if you’d died, you’d be someone’s daughter that would be devastated that you died in their place.”
You swallowed. You tried not to think about your mother and father, holding the secret of your disappearance to hide the shame, to stop the punishment that no doubt would come for you. It was illegal for women to fight in the imperial army and it was treason to infiltrate the military. You’d known that at the time you cut your hair short, stole your father’s horse and galloped off to meet the recruiters.
“I’d do it again,” you said, unexpectedly honest. For your father, you’d do anything to keep him safe just as he had your entire life. For your mother, you’d do anything to ensure that the love of her life was always there for her - you remembered how much it had broken her during the first war. And, selfishly, you think you’d do it again for the power you didn’t know you could hold and for them. Each and every one of those soldiers you’d met and cared for. You couldn’t imagine a world where you didn’t know them, even if they would come to regret your presence here.
It was Jihoon who said the quiet part aloud. “You should be executed for this.”
Your heart leaped fearfully in your chest before you could control it. You watched the uneasy shuffle of legs, the eyes that widened and looked away, the slow closing of fists. You watched Jihoon’s expression and how his eyes seemed so sad. You didn’t like him looking at you like this.
Minghao was the first to object. “Hyung, Captain,” he corrected himself, “you can’t-”
“It’s the law,” Jun interjected.
“The emperor would destroy us if he found out,” Seokmin pointed out, the first thing he’d said in your presence since he found out. He still wouldn’t look at you, even now. You’d shared a tent with him, spent the most amount of time with him as they marched in formation, and maybe that was why he was taking it the hardest. To see the usually so happy man like this was painful.
“I didn’t patch her up just for you to end her,” Mingyu said.
“What are we supposed to do?” Soonyoung challenged, “She’s not a pet.”
You looked at Seungcheol, at the man you respected more than you ever thought possible. “I’ll accept your judgment, Captain Choi.”
His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “You haven’t called me that in months.” You didn’t answer. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to. His eyes flickered to Mingyu, “How long is recovery expected?”
“Another three weeks at least for me to feel comfortable,” the medic explained.
Seungcheol looked back at you. “Consider this a debt paid. A life for a life,” he murmured, “Hyunjin will stay with us on the march to the capital until Medic Kim says that you’re well. Then you’ll leave and never come back.”
It was the best scenario and yet the mercy only made disappointment curl in the pit of your stomach. “Yes Captain.”
“We don’t speak of this,” Seungcheol’s eyes landed on each in his battalion, men he trusted more than anything.
The room saluted. “Yes Captain.”
-
On the nights where the negative thoughts become too much, you think living like this might be a bigger punishment than execution. You hadn’t been alone in months and now the sudden absence felt like missing a limb.
You still had your tent, the same one you’d been assigned to that first day but Seokmin had left it almost as soon as the decision to keep you around had been made - you’d caught him as he left, canvas bag thrown over his shoulder. He’d avoided looking at you as he scurried to Seungkwan and Mingyu’s tent. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, shouldn’t have brought a lump to your throat or had tears burning the corner of your eyes. You didn’t sleep that night, trying desperately not to cry.
The next day, he still came to help you put down the tent after breakfast, preparing for the next day of marching. You murmured your thank you but got no response in turn, just the swing of the rolled up tent onto his broad shoulders.
You still had your meals given to you by Chan but now you were the last one to eat, just on the outskirts of the warmth of the fire. Your fingers accidentally brushed the younger officers when you took the bowl and he nearly dropped it in the dirt in his eagerness to get away from you.
You couldn’t do basic training. You’d tried but Jihoon had stopped you with a tightness in his expression. “I think it’s best if you ask if Mingyu has something you can do.” Mingyu had given you a list of herbs to organise so it wasn’t that you were bored, but it was another line of separation that highlighted just how little they wanted to do with you.
You hated that it hurt you so much. As the only child of a great family, you were alone a lot of the time, time taken up by ceremonies and responsibilities that were suitable for a daughter. You did them with a smile because you had to. Running about to join the army might have been the first thing you’d actually done for yourself. You hadn’t expected to love it, to love the routine and the power it gave you, to love watching the sun rise and set as you marched through landscapes you never thought you’d see in your lifetime.
And the people. You adored them in a way you didn’t think it was possible to love those who weren’t in your family line.
You missed Seokmin’s laugh, how it shook his whole body and he had to lean on you for support. You missed Seungkwan’s singing at the most inopportune times, especially during the night watch. You missed Soonyoung’s jokes and Jihoon’s tired acceptance of them.
You missed Vernon’s quiet correction of how you hold your sword and how Jun seemed to know exactly what you were feeling before you could even formulate the words yourself. You missed Jeonghan’s teasing and how Joshua fell into the trap every single time.
You missed drinking tea in the early morning with Minghao after a long night patrol and joining Chan to hunt whatever animal was available to eat in the mountains. You missed Mingyu getting just a little too drunk on moonshine and spilling one too many secrets of his own secrets. You missed the shy way that Wonwoo smiled when his battalion teased him before cutting them down with the driest comments. You missed the way Seungcheol used to watch over you all, softness in his eyes.
You’d never get that again, you thought, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. No, the pain of what you had lost would just stay with you for the rest of the life your Captain had determined you got to keep. A lifetime of punishment indeed.
-
It’s on the fifth day of your social isolation that the camp was ambushed. You were in your tent when the noises started, familiar enough that they scratched down the back of your mind like a physical wound. You were up, moving instinctively. You grabbed at your sword - you still sharpened it daily, like you’d be taught, even if you weren’t being actively trained anymore - and pushed open the tent flaps to carnage.
Hun. A unit like yours, likely on their way to the battle front as you had been, and now reconvening further into the country. An attack of opportunity because how could anyone resist their enemy so unsuspectedly waiting for them?
Adrenaline thrummed through you and you were taking a step forward, ready to jump in, before you were blocked.
“Stay behind me,” Wonwoo insisted, already using his broad form to shove you where he wanted.
“I can fight,” you reminded, already skirting around, before the firm hand of Joshua pushed you back.
“Stay back,” he ordered firmly. “We can’t let you get hurt again.”
“Hurt saving your sorry arses,” you reminded him. There was something about the way he said it that stunk of ‘man protects woman’ and you wanted to scream. “I’m fine.”
“Would you just listen for once?” Soonyoung complained.
You pushed through again, back into formation. “You would never have let me sit out of a fight.”
“That was before,” Joshua murmured bitterly. His body was already moving to block you again, so you shoved him hard in the right shoulder.
“Your sudden realisation that I have tits does not determine whether I can stab someone,” you snapped. “You guys trained me. Do you have no faith in your skills?”
Wonwoo’s jaw tightened. Soonyoung looked like he wanted to strangle you. Joshua’s gaze danced around your face before sighing in defeat. “Just...stick close, okay?”
You tried not to let the relief thumping through your body show on your face. “Yes sir.”
Soonyoung spluttered. “Are you crazy?”
“She’ll follow us anyway,” Joshua sighed, “At least this way we won’t be distracted.”
“Speak for yourself,” Wonwoo grumbled but you ignored him.
It was strange how, when fighting, you felt more at peace than you had all week. Your side pulled uncomfortably around your stitches and you had no doubt that you might have opened it again but you didn’t care. How could you when you could almost pretend that things were back to normal?
If you dodged, another swung their sword to cut down the enemy. When Soonyoung ducked, you were swinging over his head, a clean cut across the jugular. An axe head clipped you before you could put more distance between you but Wonwoo was already there, delivering a pommel blow to the side of the attacker’s head. Joshua made formation calls and you all slipped into them instinctively, muscle memory.
Around you, you could see the others of your battalion, weapons blurring at the speed they are moving. You watched a Hun soldier kick Jun in the chest and Minghao jump in from the side, diverting attention to himself. You caught Chan using nearby branches as offensive weaponry so Jeonghan could cut at the tendons on the back of a heel.
It was bloody. It was exhausting.
You felt like you could breathe easier.
You didn’t move fast enough.
Oxygen was punched out of your chest by an arm, the owner shoving you until your back slammed against the trunk of a tree. You gripped at his hand, suddenly so aware of how much bigger the Hun were than you, and tried to use your legs to kick out. He took the blow with a wince and pressed down harder.
“A pretty boy,” he breathed, words twisting in an insult, “ever taken Mongolian cock before?”
He tightened his grip enough that you could see spots. Over the fur covered shoulder, you see your captain barrelling closer. “You ever,” you wheezed, “had your throat cut before?”
You could see the confusion flash through his eyes before they were replaced by shock and the sharp end of a blade through the side of his neck. The grip on you tightened and then loosened as he was shoved away, heavy body dropping like lead on the dirt floor. You landed unsteadily on your feet and coughed through sharp inhales.
“What are you doing here?” Seungcheol snapped.
“What I was trained to do, Captain Choi,” you rasped.
You could see the vein in his forehead pulsing, but he couldn’t comment any further because there was another sword being thrust at him.
The fight continued until Mingyu put an axe head into the back of the last member of the Hun unit. Post-fight silence rose up to surround them and you couldn’t hear anything except your own heartbeat. Your eyes scanned over each of them, taking a mental stock of bruises and cuts and ultimately the fact that each one was still on two feet. A momentary relief, of familiarity, before eyes snapped to you and an irate captain was storming across the bloody ground towards you.
You straightened up instinctively, falling to attention.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Seungcheol demanded, “you should have stayed inside.”
“And let you fight the Hun without me?” you retorted, “Not a chance of that in hell, captain.”
“Do you have a death wish?”
“My death would bring honour to my family name,” you said firmly.
Seungcheol pinched the bridge of his nose. “And what exactly would happen to my name if I brought home your father’s daughter in a body bag?”
It hurt you to think about them, so you tried not to. “They would know I died for my country.”
Somewhere over his shoulder, you heard Seungkwan’s long groan of “we’re terrible influences.”
The captain clearly heard it too, his lips twitching upward in the corner before he could stop himself. It had been so long since you’d been on the receiving end of such a look and you held on to it greedily. You tried not to tremble at the way Seungcheol’s eyes dragged down you, assessing, heavier than they had been before.
“We should leave you at the next village,” he mused.
You retorted quickly, “You can’t.”
Seungcheol arched an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“A life for a life,” you whispered. “I have a life debt. I will not be dishonoured.”
Seungcheol looked at you incredulously before laughing, this breathy and full body thing that made you feel warm all over. You hadn’t heard him laugh like that before. “You’re the strangest woman I’ve ever met,” he commented, “to willingly stay in a warzone.”
“It is my honour,” you explained.
“And mine too, I suppose,” Seungcheol sighed and then groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. “This is insane. You’re insane. I’m insane.”
“So we really are going to keep her as a pet,” Soonyoung commented and then yelped when Jihoon elbowed him in the side. “Fuck, hyung, that hurt.”
“Do you have any idea how to talk to women?” Jihoon hissed.
“Only his mother,” Chan teased and let himself get pulled into a headlock by Soonyoung.
Seungcheol was still watching you. He didn’t quite look like your commander any more, expression softened at the edges. It was enough to make you feel breathless. “Don’t think you’re going to get out of clean up duty,” he commented.
“Seokmin is the one who keeps taking the tent roll,” you challenged.
The man in question squeaked, eyes wide as if caught under cannon fire, and a flush crossed the bridge of his nose. “I can’t just let her carry it,” he insisted, “it’s not right.”
“I did before,” you reminded me.
“My father would be so disappointed, I can’t,” Seokmin shook his head.
“Wait until he finds out that you slept next to an unmarried woman for 3 months,” Jeonghan joked. His words were light but the implication was clear.
“Nothing happened!” Seokmin insisted.
“I wouldn’t,” you said at the same time.
Your old tent mate looked offended. “What do you mean, wouldn’t? I’m a handsome guy!”
It was true. In your life before, everything about Seokmin - about any of them really - would have been positive in the list the matchmaker gave you. He’s from a good family, too genes, pretty smile, would treat you right. The thought had occurred to you that if you brought any one of these men home with the promise of grandchildren, your parents might forgive your transgressions that lead to this moment.
You forced your thoughts away from there immediately. “Do you want me to want to fuck you?”
Seokmin looked like a fish out of water, gapping at you. Mingyu looked a mixture of delighted and disgusted. Jun had pushed his lips together to try not to laugh so obviously.
Seungcheol rubbed his temple. “No one is fucking anyone.”
Minghao booed. Jihoon cuffed the back of his neck.
“You’d be so lucky,” you said and rolled your eyes to the heavens so you didn’t collapse into a ball of embarrassment.
“Mingyu, check her stitches,” Seungcheol ordered, raising his voice in a very pointed change of subject, “and then we’re moving on before another unit tries to corner us. We move in 10.”
“Yes captain.”
-
Even before the truth came out, there was something about you that Mingyu found powerfully attractive.
It made sense, he thought, that you weren’t who you originally claimed to be. It was in the way that you spoke, your view of the world and those around you. It was how you held everything with such gentleness, except for your sword. It was in how you smiled and he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.
Mingyu had known for a long time that he liked pretty things and you just happened to be one of the prettiest in this dark time.
You sat on the edge of his sleeping mat, undershirt tugged up so that he could reexamine your injury. He tried not to touch you too much - he’s never bandaged a woman until you, and there was some rule about decorum shouting at the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like his old teacher. Seungkwan rested against his own, back to you, taking the privacy as a time to rest before they start their march again - “and to keep you honest,” he had teased, making Wonwoo flush and demand that Mingyu explain himself.
You’d laughed, another pretty thing, at his embarrassment.
Now, adrenaline slipping through your fingers and the confidence you’d had in front of their captain was disappearing, you had only anxious sadness.
“Do you think it’ll go back to normal?” You muttered, a sweet confession that made Mingyu’s chest hurt.
He had been in a unique position of straddling the line between you, the woman they didn’t know, and the others, the men who didn’t know how to handle the lie. He’d had to, being the only medic in the unit and, in all honesty, he thought he liked you too much by then to actually keep his distance.
You’d not said it but it was easy to tell how the last days had cut at you. When Jihoon had removed you from basic training, you’d come to him, as ordered, and sat in gloomy silence as you organised herb packets and lotions at his request.
Mingyu didn’t want to lie. “Maybe,” he answered, “but I do know what it didn’t feel right until we were fighting with you at our side.”
Seungkwan snorted. “That's so cheesy Gyu.”
Mingyu flushed in embarrassment but you laughed. “I love the cheese,” you promised. Your hand reached for his and squeezed, and he tried not to focus on how much bigger he was compared to you. Looking at you this close, he wondered how many one ever thought you were the eldest son at all.
“Just keep a few ingredients unstocked for me, just in case,” you said. It was hard to tell if you were joking or not but Mingyu answered with all honesty.
“Of course. Always.”
Seongkwan coughed as if that could cover the giggle he let out. The back of Mingyu’s neck warmed. You grinned at him and released your grip. He shouldn’t have missed it as much as he did. “So how’s the stitches looking?”
Mingyu’s eyes flickered down and back again. “In tact but barely.”
You winced. “Sorry to ruin your hard work.”
“It’ll scar if you don’t let it heal properly,” he pointed out.
“You all have scars, I should get a few of my own,” you commented. Mingyu bit down the urge to say it’s different when it’s you, the eldest daughter of a noble family. Instead, he cleaned the weeping edges of the wound and redressed it quietly. You thanked him, said you were going to repack and disappeared beyond the tent flaps.
Across the tent, Seungkwan tied the string on his bag. “You could be less obvious,” he teased.
Mingyu whipped his head around to his old friend with wide eyes. “Do you think she noticed?”
“I think she’s too polite to say anything, but she isn’t stupid,” he commented, “neither is anyone else.”
“Do you think the others,” Mingyu paused, as a thought occurred to him. “wait, do you -”
Seungkwan groaned when he stretched, slipping the drawstring back onto his back. “I think,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “Lady Jin doesn’t realise how much power she has over us. All of us.”
Mingyu thought about your smile again, the way it brightened every facet of your face, and the startling truth that he’d spill blood willingly to keep you happy. He pressed down on his knuckles, working out the cramp rising there. “All of us huh?” He mused.
Seungkwan’s lips stretched into a bashful smile and gave a one armed shrug. “What can I say? That’s a girl worth fighting for.”
Mingyu barked out a laugh. “Now who’s being cheesy?”
-
“Are you sure about this?” Jihoon murmured.
Seungcheol sighed. “What choice do I have? You heard the lady.”
It still felt strange to say. When you had stumbled into the camp, imperial summons in your hand, Soonyoung had thought you did not look like a solider. But then, that’s the problem with conscription - boys with luxuries and those without food in their bellies showed up in equal measure, and it was part of his job as a General to make them war ready. It wasn’t something Soonyoung enjoyed but it was something he was proud of.
Hyunjin had been weak. Makes sense now, he thought, because no noble family would have their eldest daughter doing any activity to build muscle or stamina. You were smart though, he’d recognised, could reroute the unit in a moments notice, and determined. You picked up the sword when you dropped it. You walked on shaking legs. You fell over tree roots and got back up.
Soonyoung respected you.
“That lady shouldn’t be here,” he said, firm.
The Kwon family was one of nobility and as the second son, a career in the military was expected. As a child, he’d grown up with all the rules and expectations and social agreements drilled into him. “Your honour,” his father had said, “is everything.”
Soonyoung had never felt so dishonourable than when you were dragged before them, a wound in the side of your torso and the damning truth that you weren’t Hyunjin after all.
Lady Jin.
We should have protected her, he thought with a tight jaw. He knew he wasn’t the only one who thought so. They had all been dealing with the new truth in some way - the reality that bumped up against their previous understanding, the closeness they had gained, the feeling of betrayal at being lied to by someone who they considered family.
“But she’s here now,” Jihoon reminded. His lips flickered into a fond smile, only recognisable to those who knew him well. “With a life debt.”
“So she stays,” Seungcheol repeated, “until we get to the imperial city and can send her home.”
It was what he wanted and yet it still struck him uncomfortably. Home meant not here, not with them. Soonyoung shook the thought away - he was not ready to follow it to an unfortunate conclusion.
“Lady Jin is Hyunjin to whoever asks,” Seungcheol added, “if someone were to find out…”
“They won’t,” Jihoon was confident, “this unit wouldn’t do anything to put her at risk.”
“How can you be sure?” Soonyoung asked.
The shorter General laughed, his grin stretching wide. “Haven’t you seen how they look at her? Everyone thinks they’re being so sly.”
“Everyone?” Seungcheol arched an eyebrow. He didn’t sound upset, only surprised by the revelation.
“Not me,” Soonyoung was quick to refuse.
Jihoon’s eyes flickered to him and gave a small shrug. “Whatever you say, Soonie.”
