Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
oozey mess
Xuebing Du
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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#extradirty
Mike Driver
One Nice Bug Per Day
DEAR READER
Claire Keane
RMH
will byers stan first human second
occasionally subtle
hello vonnie
todays bird
ellievsbear
izzy's playlists!
taylor price
Game of Thrones Daily
KIROKAZE
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@mingcouper
i know love is real because mingyu exists and he’s full of it. ✿ ✿ ✿
ᡣ𐭩 . . [SVT] 민규, 승철, 호시 [NCT] 재현, 해찬, 제노
ᡣ𐭩 . . inbox is open, pls talk to me ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭
ᡣ𐭩 . . minors dni !! please be responsible with the media you consume !!
©️mingcouper, 2024-‘25
which pairing to be want to see in the next few months
GyuCheol (Mingyu & Seungcheol)
Meanie (Wonwoo & Mingyu)
WonCheol? (Wonwoo & Seungcheol)
no more threesomes
‘no more threesomes’… imagine turning down a blessing 😞
heavenly demonic
🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “You don’t have to believe me when I say I want to defile you. I’ll prove it to you soon enough,” Wonwoo’s smirk widens. “You might be an angel, but angels aren’t impervious to sin. After all, demons were angels once, until they stopped lying to themselves and gave in to the carnal pleasures. We’ll get there, don’t worry. I might be a demon, but I can be patient.”
tw/cw. Mentions of porn and bdsm, unprotected sex, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, oral/pussy eating, praise, slight degradation, manhandling, fingering, overstimulation, foreplay, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.6k
🍭 aus. Non idol au, angel & demon au, enemies to lovers, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. So think of it kind of like the Disney movie about emotions, Inside Out, where the demon and angel view Mingyu’s world through a viewing station and speak to him through his subconscious to guide him one way or the other. Also, please note: I’m not religious, so my interpretation of angel!y/n warring with herself over temptation is simply an interpretation and a fanfic.
Prologue:
You can remember the day you first saw Mingyu as if it were only this morning. He was the sweetest child, visiting church with his family at age four. There was something so adorable about his all-white outfit, the slacks and button-up with a vest. He looked very devoted and very determined as he stood up and sang the church songs with his whole little chest.
That was the day you asked to be his guardian angel, and for a time, nothing had ever been so easy.
Mingyu is pure of heart in a way most humans can never even dream of being. Some kids have a demon on their shoulder from an early age, a pest to be dealt with and chastised by both angel and parent, but not Mingyu. It was just you and him, for many, many years, and you delighted in the fact that you had one of the best boys you’d ever met as your ward.
Many late-blooming children gain a demon when they enter high school, when they first try marijuana or alcohol against their own better judgment - it’s the work of the demon on their shoulder - but again, not Mingyu.
It wasn’t until your good boy was sixteen that things started to shift. His friends were all having their first sexual encounters, and they began to tease your perfect church baby that he was a virgin. Mingyu tried to pretend their words didn’t hurt, but you knew differently. Although you tried to push him in the direction of spending more time with other church children, Mingyu continued to hang out with these raunchy boys, as they were on his high school basketball team.
He held off valiantly from the compulsions of the deadly sins, but one cold December night, your perfect golden boy finally snapped and gave in to temptation.
The demon known as Wonwoo appeared the moment Mingyu first typed the words ‘porn hub’ into his cellphone, and in the darkness of Mingyu’s room, you met the man who would be your antihero for as long as Mingyu would continue to live.
And Wonwoo is a demon with a reputation. Whereas you like to cherry-pick your wards as the kindhearted humans who are pure of soul, Wonwoo is known for his ability to sniff out those who are easily tempted by sin. His last human was a sexual fiend, and he got addicted to OnlyFans. he lost his relationship and all of his money due to Wonwoo’s coaxing of the addiction. The man died prematurely while drunk driving, which is something of a success story for the demon who collected his soul in the end.
So why was this demon in particular here with you and Mingyu?
What had seemed like an easy task had become more difficult than you ever signed up for, and Wonwoo seemed to relish in the knowledge that he was here to contradict your every musing in Mingyu’s ear.
One:
“I hope you have your popcorn ready, angel,” Wonwoo grins, as the two of you hover in your between-worlds guardian posting. It’s kind of like an apartment, with two sides, the good and the evil, with a massive monitor to watch what Mingyu is doing at any given time. There are speakers for you both to try to persuade him into things, and your voices are what Mingyu might classify as opposing sides of his subconscious.
“Frat parties can be positive,” you insist as you settle next to Wonwoo. “Last time, he saved that girl who blacked out.”
“Yeah, the wild goose chase,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “He should have been hitting on girls and slamming jello shots, but instead, you convinced him to track down the girl’s dorm room, carry her all the way home, and make sure she was okay when she woke up hours later. He even held her hair back while she puked. Yuck.”
When Wonwoo knows he’s lost to you, he generally fucks off, goes back into his demon side of the apartment, in his demon room, or leaves altogether to complete other tasks.
Demons don’t need sleep, and technically, angels don’t either, but you’re a self-identifying lazy girl, and you prefer to have rest when Mingyu sleeps, rather than be twenty-four seven working like Wonwoo is. You wonder if his packed schedule is what makes him such a dick, but you also have seen the joy he takes in doing bad deeds, and you can only assume that when he’s not here with you in Mingyu’s head, he’s off pillaging and causing mischief elsewhere.
Wonwoo looks through Mingyu’s eyes, and he leans toward the communicator where he can send his words to your ward. “Get a drink,” Wonwoo insists. “Something fun. Something fruity. Something with way too much alcohol that’s masked with sugar.”
You sigh, also leaning forward. “We should start slow with some water.”
You can sense Mingyu’s inner turmoil as he makes his way to the kitchen, and that’s where he bumps into Hoshi and Seungkwan, both of whom are ruled by their inner demon.
“Hey buddy, want a drink?” Hoshi grins, cheeks pink, eyes clouded with booze.
“Reject him,” you say.
“Accept,” Wonwoo pushes.
“Sure, why not?” Mingyu grins, taking the cup of purple liquid. He downs it easily, and you sigh. So tonight will be a more indulgent evening, and you hate the way Wonwoo sits back with a smile.
“Score one for me, angel,” Wonwoo muses.
“The night is still young,” you huff.
Wonwoo leans forward again. “You know what goes good with alcohol? Cocaine. Or ecstasy. Something fun. Maybe molly.”
You’re flabbergasted. “Mingyu has never-”
“Now is the night to start, he’s at a frat party, with friends, and we know Vernon always has a bong on hand. Maybe weed, something chill.”
You hate him, and you spend the next two hours battling Wonwoo for dominance of Mingyu. Wonwoo wins when it comes to alcohol, but your sweet boy isn’t interested in drugs, no matter how much the demon insists it’s the perfect night to dabble.
And that’s when Mingyu first lays eyes on Kimi.
She’s a year younger than him, someone he’s heard about and seen a few times, but never talked to. She looks gorgeous, in a flowy top and jeans that hug her just right. You can sense Mingyu’s heartbeat quickening, and in his drunkenness, he’s even more susceptible to Wonwoo, who leans forward. “You should fuck her tonight, there’s never a time to be a whore like the present.”
“No sex, you like her!” you argue back. “Talk to her, get her name, look for longevity.”
Wonwoo scoffs. “A one-night stand with a girl like that? Who could think of something better?”
“Uh, maybe a relationship?” you snap.
“We don’t know anything about her!” Wonwoo yells. “And we don’t need to know.”
You lean back from where Mingyu can hear your subconscious pushings, glaring at Wonwoo. “What’s with you and rough, anonymous sex?”
“It’s the best way to have it,” Wonwoo tells you, his grin widening. “I think our Mingyu boy would love to try some of the things he’s seen in the porn I’ve pushed him to watch. You know, bondage, tying a girl up, all the good shit.”
“Consentually, of course.”
“With you here, it would always have to be consensual,” Wonwoo scoffs.
“You’re despicable.”
“I’m a demon.”
“Even demons have their limits.”
Wonwoo shrugs. “Not really.”
“Well, my Mingyu is a good person. He’d never stoop to your level.”
“Well, he watches the porn I want to watch.”
You click your tongue. Wonwoo convincing Mingyu to watch porn is always the worst, and it’s when you leave the viewing station. The demon can be particularly convincing when it comes to observing sex acts on Mingyu’s phone, but you know your good boy would never go further than simply watching. He’s not the type to ever act on some of the more raunchy ideas Wonwoo forces into his head.
No matter how hard Wonwoo pushes, you know your Mingyu.
And you’re thankful that by the end of the night at the frat party, Mingyu agrees with you that he’s now too drunk, and he retires to bed.
The viewing station goes dark as Mingyu drifts to sleep, and you stand up with a sigh, glaring at Wonwoo.
“You know, one of these days, you’re going to admit that you kind of like the whole bondage sex thing,” Wonwoo sighs.
“What?” you gasp.
“You always leave the room when he and I watch porn.”
“Because I’m a pure being! Because porn and sex go against what I stand for!”
“Porn and lust might be ‘anti-angel’, but sex is natural; it’s God-created. Humans are like any other animal, and they’re meant to have sex, to procreate,” Wonwoo says simply. “I know you’re loose on your whole ‘celibate until marriage’ ideals. When Mingyu lost his virginity, you were happy because it was soft. You might be an angel, but you don’t follow a strict code, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that you follow the bible to the letter. I’m just curious how loose your morals really are. You might think I’m here to test Mingyu, but I’m really here to test you.”
“And who do you think you are to test me?” you glare.
Wonwoo shrugs. “Just a demon who specializes in lust, a demon who took one look at you on Mingyu’s shoulder and decided, ‘you know what, I’d fuck that angel.’”
“As if that’s a compliment.”
“It is, most angels have sticks up their asses the size of the Empire State Building. And don’t get me wrong, you have a stick up yours too, I’m just curious if you’d want something else up inside of you at the same time.”
“I can’t believe you,” you groan, hating the way your body reacts to his sinister smirk, the slight floodyness of his hair, and the regal way he stares at you.
“You don’t have to believe me when I say I want to defile you. I’ll prove it to you soon enough,” Wonwoo’s smirk widens. “You might be an angel, but angels aren’t impervious to sin. After all, demons were angels once, until they stopped lying to themselves and gave in to the carnal pleasures. We’ll get there, don’t worry. I might be a demon, but I can be patient.”
Two:
“Hold it, you’re not going anywhere,” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your arm as you’re about to leave the room, when Mingyu pulls up pornhub with Kimi on his mind.
“I’m not sitting here with you for this; it’s weird,” you insist, pulling yourself away from him, hating the way the cold of his touch lingers on your skin.
“Boys will be boys, let the man find some release,” Wonwoo tells you, his grin widening.
“Boys may be boys, but you were whispering in Mingyu’s ear all day that he should have a jack off session and think about ‘that chick from the frat party.’”
Wonwoo shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard to convince him.”
You let out a deep breath.
“Watch this,” Wonwoo leans forward so Mingyu can hear him. “Look up ‘rope BDSM.’”
“Oh my gosh!” You cover your eyes with your hands as Mingyu quickly follows through with Wonwoo’s suggestion.
“There’s something so sexy about having complete control of another person,” Wonwoo insists, leaning back and staring at you with dark eyes. “Admit it, you liked controlling Mingyu before I showed up.”
“It’s not remotely the same.”
“It is, sort of.” The demon shrugs. “You like control. I know you do. Because every time you don’t get your way, you have a little fit.”
“I do not!”
“Look at you, angel, you’re practically stomping your cute little foot right now.” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle, and you hate how attractive it is. “If you play your cards right, someday, I might let you have a little control over me.”
“What, like tie you up?” you scoff.
Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Does that excite you?”
“In your dreams,” you snap.
“Angel, we both know I don’t sleep. But I do imagine things, things about you…”
Your breath catches.
“I imagine what you sound like, what you taste like. I imagine the look in your eye when I have you immobilized and at my mercy. I imagine making you crack, making you finally admit that pleasure is exactly what it means in the dictionary; the feelings of delight, something you enjoy with every fiber of your being, something you’d beg for me to give you again and again.”
Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and it’s crazy to you that Wonwoo can say everything he just said with a completely straight face. He has zero shame in admitting the things he’s just admitted, and yet, you feel like the dirty one.
“I’m leaving,” you say again, more firmly this time.
“I won’t stop you; you have full control of yourself, and that’s what makes this interesting.” Wonwoo turns his attention back to the screen, where Mingyu is now in the throes of enjoying porn.
“You’re evil,” you snap.
“I’m a demon, it’s part of the job description,” Wonwoo says absentmindedly.
You fight the urge to stomp your foot, and with one last scoff of displeasure, you go back to your quarters, throwing yourself down onto your bed with a muffled scream.
Three:
It’s been a month of chaos. Wonwoo has become somehow even more dirty, and every time he whispers some sexual idea in Mingyu’s ear, his eyes are fixed on you.
You squirm when he mentions bondage, porn, rough sex, and more dirty things that are not for an angel’s ears.
And to make matters worse, you know that Wonwoo is imagining himself doing all of these dirty things to you. To be the object of sin and desire is new to you, and it brings an uncomfortable feeling to the pit of your stomach.
You grapple with yourself every night, unable to get Wonwoo’s voice out of your head.
The word ‘tantalizing’ has never had much merit for you, but now, you understand. Wonwoo oozes sex and intrigue; he makes your mind go to places it's never before visited; dark, lustful places that make your heart race and your skin tingle.
The little smirk that quirks onto his lips when he knows he’s irritated you has become burned into your mind's eye, and you can’t escape the shiny points of his canines, or the flash of black that overtakes his irises when he’s being demonic.
You can feel your resolve to stay true to your morals is slipping, and in its place is a growing need that’s threatening to overtake you, body and soul.
This is the power of a truly strong demon, and it both scares and excites you while you war with yourself.
Four:
After another long day of Wonwoo being raunchy, Mingyu finally goes to sleep. The viewer goes dark, and you stand up with a sigh. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” you muse, “but I’m thankful you didn’t push for more porn.”
“He’s on a streak, you know,” Wonwoo smirks. “But I figured I could let you off the hook for one night.”
“Let my pure boy off the hook, you mean.”
“No, I meant what I said. You’re the one who has a problem with it, not Mingyu. He’s just a hot-blooded man who’s hardly had any good sex in his life. A bit of porn can’t hurt.”
You roll your eyes. “Scientists who study the interaction between porn and erectile dysfunction would beg to differ.”
“Human scientists.” Wonwoo’s smirk widens.
“I’m not having an argument with you, I’m off the clock.”
“Off the clock,” the demon repeats with a chuckle.
“Yes, off the clock, which means I also don’t have to deal with you anymore.”
“You enjoy ‘dealing with me.’” Wonwoo insists.
You scoff loudly. “In what diluted world can you come to that conclusion?”
The demon steps closer to you. “The world where I’m a demon who can read sexual energy, and lately, it’s been wafting off your aura like smoke. And where there’s smoke, well, there’s fire.”
“I think you should get your eyes checked,” you fire at him, your arms crossing over your chest in an effort to keep that ‘sexual energy’ contained.
“You’re such a virgin that it’s almost laughable,” Wonwoo tells you, his voice lowering. “Most angels don’t have the kind of lustful energy you do, virginity and all, but every being that exists is plagued by at least one of the seven deadly sins, angels included. It seems to me that your carnal desire is sex, which isn’t anything to be ashamed of. I’ve worked with angels who are greedy, angels who have a sense of divine wrath, but pride is the main trait I’ve seen. One could argue that all three of those sins are more disgusting on an angel than that of simply wanting to be touched, to experience one’s form to the fullest.”
Your mouth feels dry, and you lick your lips, unsure of what to say.
“Don’t worry, angel, I don’t need a response, not really. But… I would never defile an angel without her wanting it, so when I ask you this next question, I’ll need at least an enthusiastic nod if not a verbal ‘yes.’”
“What do you need to ask me?” you whisper.
Wonwoo is close enough to touch you now, and he reaches for your hand, tracing his thumb against your palm. Your mind is telling you to pull away, but you can’t. His touch is cold, but there’s something so nice about it…
“Can I kiss you?” Wonwoo asks, his words hanging in the air like a heavy smog.
You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it does little to help, and you stare at the beautiful demon. Your body is screaming yes, but your mind is still plagued with trepidation.
“It’s a sin.”
“A kiss isn’t a sin, and besides, you’re off the clock, remember?” His smirk is just so beautiful, and you have to remind yourself that even though he’s a demon, Wonwoo was crafted by God’s own hands. “I think you can forgive yourself for a small misdemeanor, after all, humans are forgiven for much worse.”
“I…” Your heart is hammering in your rib cage, and never in your long life have you felt a desire like this.
“Or… I could wait,” Wonwoo sighs. “I won’t pressure you. I’m a demon, but I’m not an asshole.”
The idea of waiting even longer makes your skin tingle, and you can feel a frown of dissatisfaction appearing on your face.
“You can kiss me,” you say, and the words feel foreign on your tongue.
“Even though you hate me?” Wonwoo grins, cocking a brow.
“Even though I hate you.”
The demon lets out a laugh, dropping your hand in favour of grabbing your hips. He pulls you toward him, being shockingly gentle for a man who’s so outspoken about his taste for rough sex.
“Nobody has to know about this,” Wonwoo whispers as he leans closer. “Even angels are allowed to have dirty little secrets.”
“Then this will be our little secret,” you breathe, swallowing thickly as your hands instinctively go to his shoulder, tugging the demon even closer.
He meets your gaze as he slowly leans in, giving you all the time in the world to change your mind. But you’re in too deep now, and there’s no going back.
His lips press against yours gently, and your whole body is flooded with what you can only describe as pleasure, like a cool breeze wafting over you on an extremely hot day. You want more, and Wonwoo tugs you closer by your hips, his tongue snaking out to rub your lower lip.
Your mouth opens a little, a whimper escaping you as the kiss deepens. Wonwoo releases a low growl, and butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach from the sound.
Nothing in the world has ever made you feel this way, as if you’re glowing, and all because a dark being is tantalizing you toward sin.
With a gasp, you pull away, breathing heavily.
Wonwoo holds you, not pushing for more; he gives you mental space to analyze what’s just happened, while still keeping you physically close, like a protector.
It’s such an odd notion, the idea that a demon could be any sort of protection for an angel like you.
“I think…” You swallow thickly. “I think I need to have some time alone now.”
“I understand,” Wonwoo nods, his hands slipping away from your hips. “The ball is in your court, angel. Until you decide what you want to do, this is our little secret.”
“Our little secret,” you repeat like a mantra, but the words don’t do anything to help the anxiety building inside of you. It’s as if at any moment you could be struck down for impurity, except, even when you’re alone later, no hand of God comes to smite you.
You think carefully about what Wonwoo’s said, about all living things having their sinful, carnal desires, even angels.
Maybe this is natural, maybe this is okay… maybe.
Five:
You’ve been yearning for Wonwoo in a way you’ve never yearned for anything since your creation. It’s taking every ounce of your self-restraint to keep your distance from him, and Wonwoo’s not making any of it easy.
Every dirty whisper in Mingyu’s ear, every glance at you while he talks about sex, bondage, and porn…
It has your heart racing, your skin heating, and your core throbbing in a way that used to be foreign but is now becoming all too familiar.
“Should I push for more sin tonight?” Wonwoo asks as Mingyu gets ready for bed. “Or have you had enough?”
You groan, knowing that you’re wet from the day you’ve had. “Please.”
“Please, what?” He cocks a brow.
“I’m so tired of all of this.”
“Tired of fighting your own desires, you mean,” Wonwoo corrects, seeing right through you.
You hate that your ‘sexual aura’ is visible to him, hate that no matter how hard you try to fight it, Wonwoo will always know the truth.
And the truth is: you want this demon to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked. You want to get a taste of the sin he has to offer, the sin he claims other angels partake in secretly.
Why are you holding yourself back, holding yourself to a set of standards, if others in your angelic profession don’t?
“What are you thinking about?” Wonwoo asks, watching you carefully.
You release a deep breath. “Everything.”
“Sounds like a lot,” the demon chuckles.
“It is.”
“Too much for a sweet angel like you to carry on her own shoulders.”
You study his face, wondering if he’s being condescending or not.
“Being a demon is much easier. I don’t have to worry about anything,” Wonwoo continues, leaning back in his seat. “No rules, no standards, no fear. Just existence. Freedom.”
“I’m free,” you insist.
“Are you really?” Wonwoo grins. “Could have fooled me.”
“I am free! I’m an angel! I have the most freedom in the world!”
“Freedom to kiss who you want to kiss? To act on the desires that were literally built into you? Why would God have made you with the sin of lust if he did not intend for you to act on it? To torture you for your entire existence?” Wonwoo shakes his head.
“He bestowed temptation so his creations could rise above it and devote themselves to Him,” you insist. “It teaches spiritual strength and perseverance.”
“Whatever you say, little Miss Sunday School.”
You let out a deep sigh. “Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?” Wonwoo grins.
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because it makes me want you even more!” you scream. “For a reason I can not comprehend, I want you. I want you for the teasing, for the chastizing, for this disgusting ego that I would never condone on a human ward. I want it. I want all of you. And it’s killing me!”
Wonwoo stands up abruptly, and you mirror him, heart racing in your chest.
You can’t believe you’ve just admitted all of it, all of the deep dark things you’ve been thinking about for weeks.
“An ego can be sexy,” Wonwoo says finally. “Although I’d classify myself as more of a prideful being than an egotistical one.”
“Ugh!” You throw your hands up, hating that his smirk is the most handsome thing you’ve ever seen, hating that he’s right.
“Tell me you want this again,” Wonwoo urges you, stepping closer.
“I want you! You already heard me say it!” Your skin is hot with irritation, both sexual and emotional, and you can hardly think straight.
“No, tell me you want this.” Wonwoo grabs your hand, tugging you to his chest. He looks down at you, his lips almost ghosting over your own.
“I want this,” you whimper, feeling defeated and broken.
You can no longer hold yourself back, and part of you doesn’t want to.
“I’ll be gentle,” the demon promises, bringing his mouth down to your throat, where he presses soft kisses that take your breath away.
“I thought you liked it rough,” you say, releasing a chuckle that brings your anxiety down.
“I also like pleasure. I’m prideful, not a narcissist. Tonight, your pleasure will come first.”
Your skin tingles, and you swallow a lump in your throat. You can feel your fear dissipating. Part of you had imagined he’d want to try bondage with you right away, so it’s a relief that he’s going to meet you at your level, which is… well, nonexistent.
You are a free being. And tonight, you will lose your heavenly virginity of your own volition.
Wonwoo begins to suck on a spot just below your ear, and it makes you moan. You throw your arms around the demon, tugging him closer.
One of Wonwoo’s hands slips down to your bum, squeezing you through your white pants.
God, he feels so good, and you focus on the feeling, pushing aside your racing thoughts.
You draw his lips to yours, and Wonwoo groans with pleasure, tugging you so you’re flush to his body.
Kissing him is like magic, and you get lost in it easily. Your core is wet, and you can feel your panties getting sticky, which is a tantalizing thought.
“Bedroom,” Wonwoo says, breaking the kiss.
Without missing a beat, the demon reaches down and lifts you bridal style. You gasp, clutching onto his shoulders and blinking up at him.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Wonwoo laughs. “As if I was about to take your virginity in a living room.”
He heads toward your side of the apartment, and he pushes the door of your bedroom open.
Your room is all creams and minimalism, a true safe space, and he pauses to look at it for a moment. He’s never been in your room, nor you in his.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“Nothing, it’s just… very different from my side of the space.”
“No whips and chains hanging on the walls?” you tease.
“How about no black onyx floors or dark colours.”
“Well, I am an angel,” you point out as he gently sets you on the bed.
“Yes, baby, the best angel I’ve ever met.”
“Really?”
“Without a doubt. The most angelic.” Wonwoo climbs on top of you, and your legs spread instinctively as the demon looks down at you. “I’ve never met an angel who has never sinned. It’s endearing.”
“Will you still find me endearing after tonight?” you ask.
“I’ll find you endearing forever,” Wonwoo promises.
“Who knew such sweet words could come from a demon.”
Wonwoo laughs. “If anyone deserves sweet words from me, it’s you.”
“You’re just saying that to get me in bed.”
“We’re already in bed.”
“Good point.” You grab the nape of his neck, tugging his lips down to yours.
This verbal foreplay has become trite, and you’re ready for more, ready for all Wonwoo is about to give you.
For the first time, you taste desperation on his lips, and it excites you. He grinds gently down against you, and it’s the first time there’s been pressure on your core. Tingles of pleasure run through you as you tighten your legs around his hips, willing him to push harder.
Wonwoo groans, following through with your silent plea. He ruts hard as you kiss each other, stimulating your clit through your clothing.
One of his hands reaches up and grabs your breast through your white sweater, massaging you and making you gasp.
“Such pretty sounds,” Wonwoo whispers, biting your earlobe gently. “Can’t wait to hear you screaming my name.”
“Wonwoo,” you whimper, wiggling beneath him, eager for more.
He sits up, and with one tug, Wonwoo removes your sweater, leaving you in a cream bra.
“All white everything, huh?” he laughs.
“I’m an angel.”
“So you keep reminding me. You always wear such loose, modest clothing, but I imagined you’d be gorgeous under all these layers.” He licks his lips, his thumb teasing the lace of your bra. “Should I go slow?”
“Go medium,” you tell him.
Wonwoo lets out another chuckle. “That wasn’t one of the options.”
“Make it one of the options.”
He shakes his head at you, leaning down to press his lips to yours.
You thread your fingers through his raven black hair, mewling as he massages you through your bra. Your nipples are aching already, and there’s a sense of great relief when he finally takes your bra off.
“So pretty,” Wonwoo muses, kissing down from your throat to your breasts, where he captures one of your nipples in his mouth.
You whimper desperately, your entire body on fire with the pleasure.
“And so sensitive too,” the demon groans, gently dragging his teeth over your sensitive bud.
“Please,” you gasp.
“Please, what?” he looks up at you.
You let out a shuddery breath. “More.”
“Your wish is my command, angel,” Wonwoo teases, his hand gliding down your body. Deft fingers slip under the waistband of your pants, but he stays over your panties as he makes contact with your clit.
You writhe against the bedding, eyes clenched shut as foreign ecstasy washes over you.
He continues to suck on your nipple as he toys with your pussy.
“Soaking through your panties,” Wonwoo tuts. “My dirty girl.”
Your heart lurches in your chest, and you’re shocked that you like the way his words feel. It’s a sinful kind of praise, and it makes you dizzy as you watch him, anticipating what he’ll do next.
Wonwoo takes his time as he licks and sucks your nipples, playing with your pussy through drenched fabric.
It’s a relief when he finally tugs your pants down, leaving you in only panties.
Then, Wonwoo sits up, tugging his shirt off with one motion.
Your jaw drops at the view of his bare torso. He’s lean but muscled, and you wish you could trace the lines on his skin, but Wonwoo made it clear that tonight is about you.
“I’m going to eat you out now,” Wonwoo explains, as he sinks to the floor. “Bet you taste like nectar and sunshine.”
Talking about your ‘taste’ makes you shy, and you close your thighs, only for him to gently pry them open.
“Don’t be bashful, baby,” Wonwoo coos, pressing kisses to your skin.
“What if I don’t taste like nectar and sunshine?” you ask.
“I can already smell it on you,” Wonwoo promises, an attempt to be assuring, but now you’re talking about smell, and it makes you even more anxious. “You know what, let’s leave taste and smell out of this for now, okay?”
“Yes, please,” you nod, biting your bottom lip.
Wonwoo hooks his fingers in your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs.
The cool air of the room on your wet core makes you groan, back arching a little as you writhe against the bed.
Cold hands grab your thighs, confidently spreading you open.
“Just breathe,” Wonwoo reminds you as he leans forward and licks the entirety of your core lewdly.
“Shit!” you gasp, thighs quaking.
The demon chuckles. “That’s the first time you’ve ever swore.”
You slap a hand over your mouth, and he shakes his head at you, returning to his task.
Soon, you’re moaning through your fingers, and your other hand reaches down to grab at his hair, keeping his face buried between your thighs.
He eats you out like a starved man, ravaging your pussy with licks and sucks that have your head spinning in the best possible way.
And then Wonwoo begins to growl, and you’ve never heard anything so erotic.
Your own gasps and whimpers are filling the room, and you can feel something getting tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach.
“Wonwoo,” you pant. “I think… I think I’m going to cum!”
He releases a groan, and the vibration of it on your clit makes your legs shake. All of your muscles are tense, waiting for that final push-
Then you look down, and your eyes lock with his. His pupils are blown, and he looks absolutely demonic, but there’s something so incredibly sexy about this powerful demon worshiping you with his mouth on your core-
You cum like an electric shock, your entire body jolting, muscles releasing only to clench again as the waves surge through you.
You scream, grabbing at the bed sheets like an anchor as your orgasm overtakes you.
Wonwoo is unrelenting on your core, groaning and eating you messily, and it only makes the whole situation more erotic.
You’ve been to Heaven, but nothing has ever felt like this.
“Wonwoo!” you scream when the pleasure begins to feel like it’s too much, like you can’t contain or sustain this type of ecstasy anymore.
The demon pulls away immediately, looking up at you.
“Angel,” he breathes, “you’re glowing.”
“What?”
“You’re glowing,” he repeats. Wonwoo grabs your hand from the bed, lifting it so you can see that your skin is literally aglow.
“Is this normal?” you gasp in panic.
“I’ve never seen it.”
“And you fuck a lot of angels?” you snap.
“Not really,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I find most of you to be too high-strung.”
“I’m high-strung.”
“But it’s endearing on you.” His thumb gently rubs your glit, and you jolt, releasing a gasp. “Glowing can’t be harmful.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure it’s just pent-up energy,” he muses. “Should I give you more?”
You take all of one second to consider his words before nodding. “More.”
Wonwoo nuzzles against your inner thigh with a laugh, and then he teases a digit between your pussy lips, gently sinking it into you.
You groan, your inner walls having never been touched before.
“So warm,” Wonwoo breathes. “So tight.”
He gently finger fucks you, teasing your hole open, and he brings his mouth to your clit again.
His pace is slow, and you know he’s letting you acclimate to the stimulus.
You can feel yourself dripping on his digit, and the slick is making it all too easy for him to work you open. Soon, he adds another finger, and you groan desperately, loving the slight stretch.
“Gonna make you cum on my fingers before I give you the real thing,” Wonwoo explains.
“Okay,” you whimper.
He returns to sucking on your clit, but he’s not being as gentle as he was before.
You can feel that tension building again, and with each slick sound of his fingers fucking into you, you know you’re getting closer to the edge.
Whimpers escape your lips, and you gasp when he crooks his fingers, hitting a spot that has your whole body coming alight with pleasure.
You’ve heard Wonwoo talk about the ‘g-spot’ before, and you’re pretty sure he just found yours.
Your toes are curling, muscles getting incredibly tight as his pace quickens.
“I’m close!” you cry out, grabbing the bed sheets again, your heart racing in your chest.
Wonwoo groans a sound of affirmation, and again, his noise of pleasure is what sends you over the edge.
Just like the first time, he works you through your orgasm, unrelenting, while the pleasure courses through you. You’re a throbbing, whimpering mess by the time Wonwoo pulls away, and you watch with shy delight as he licks his fingers clean, moaning at your taste.
“How did that one feel, angel?” he asks.
“So good,” you whimper.
Wonwoo stands up, looking down at your nude form.
“Ready for the real deal?”
“I’m scared,” you admit, seeing the outline of his cock through his pants.
“That’s natural,” Wonwoo breathes, undoing his belt. “And if you still want to change your mind…”
“No.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Let’s do this.”
Wonwoo pulls his pants down, and suddenly, his cock is slapping up against his stomach.
Your jaw drops at the sight of him. He’s long… well, you’re pretty sure he’s long, not that you have much to compare it to.
“That’s going to fit inside of me?” you ask.
“Angel, your pussy is wetter than a slip and slide, it won’t be a problem,” Wonwoo laughs.
“Just… go slow.”
“Not medium?” he teases.
“Wonwoo…” you groan.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises, now fully nude as he climbs on top of you. “Don’t worry.”
Wonwoo presses his lips to yours, and you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pouring all of your attention into the meeting of your mouths.
Wonwoo slowly begins to rut, teasing his cock through your wet pussy lips and bumping your clit. The grinding feels phenomenal, and soon you’re a moaning mess beneath him, your core aching to be filled.
As if he can read you, the demon reaches for the base of his cock, lining the tip up with your wet hole. His mouth moves to your throat, giving you space to speak if you need him to pause or slow down, but as his tip slips inside of you, you realize there will be no need for breaks.
Sure, the stretch is new, but it’s not bad.
In fact, your pussy is trying to swallow him up, and with each inch after inch, you feel more and more complete.
Wonwoo truly is your opposite, the yin to your yang, and it feels phenomenal to finally be connected like this.
“You okay?” Wonwoo asks, and you can see his muscles feathering, as if it’s taking every ounce of self-control for him not to let loose and fuck you stupid.
“Feels good,” you groan, wrapping your legs around his hips to pull him further into you.
Wonwoo moans deeply, and a moment later, he’s fully sheathed in your wet core.
You both release sounds of pleasure together, and your lips meet in a fiery kiss.
You love tangling your fingers in his hair, and it makes him kiss you harder. He’s still fully inside of you, unmoving as your walls adjust, but soon, your own hips are rocking, and he takes the cue to begin to thrust.
The first movement is shallow and slow, and you revel in the drag of his cock against your inner walls.
You cry out, throwing your head back, and Wonwoo latches onto your throat, sucking and nibbling.
Your pebbled nipples press against his chest, and each movement toys with them.
You can feel Wonwoo everywhere. He’s completely commanding every one of your senses, and not a single thought is going through your mind except for one word: more.
His pace is increasing, and you get the sense that he’s reacting to your sounds, figuring you out based on your whimpering and whining.
You pull Wonwoo away from your throat by his hair, and you open your eyes, looking up at him.
God, he truly is the most beautiful being you’ve ever seen.
He’s truly a vision, lust-blown pupils and all, his hair a mess from where you’re tugging on it.
You breathe in each other, lips almost meeting but just separate, and the teasing makes everything more seductive.
Wonwoo pulls out of you suddenly, flipping you onto your side. He moves behind you, a cold big spoon as he enters you again. His breath is hot on your shoulders, and he takes the opportunity to gently bite your neck, making you gasp. You reach behind yourself, grabbing his hair again, which earns you a groan of pleasure.
His hand is on your hip, and he fucks into you desperately, adjusting your body ever so slightly, opening your leg a little so he can hit deeper.
“Wonwoo!” you whimper when his hand slips from your hips to your core, his fingers teasing your clit.
“That’s it, scream my name,” he grins, biting your earlobe and making you shiver.
“Wonwoo!” you say it louder this time, unable to contain yourself as he works you closer and closer to the edge again.
“Gonna cum on my cock, huh, angel?” he chuckles.
“Yes, I’m so close,” you whimper, pussy tightening around him.
“Not yet.” Wonwoo pulls out of you suddenly, and you whine, only for him to adjust you.
Now you’re sitting on top of him, with Wonwoo propped against the headboard.
“Why am I on top?” you ask, confused.
“Oh angel,” he licks your nipple, “just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you’re the one who is in control.”
His hands are on your hips again, and he lifts you slightly, allowing him to plow up into you.
You cry out from how deep his cock is hitting you, from the way he’s using you like a ragdoll.
You throw your head back, and his mouth latches onto your nipple. Your hands fly to his hair, tangling in the dark curls as he fucks you stupid.
Each smack down of your core on his cock has pressure on your clit, and you can feel that orgasm bubbling again.
You feel drunk, or, what you think being drunk would feel like. It’s a pleasurable dizziness, a mind numbing euphoria and a tingling that flutters through your entire body.
Wonwoo growls, and you know it’s a sound of affirmation, a sound to push you toward the edge.
A few more rough thrusts have you tumbling into ecstasy, your entire core clamping down on Wonwoo’s cock. Your head falls forward, your lips making contact with the crown of Wonwoo’s head as he also groans. He pulls off of your nipple, panting desperately as he holds you down, his cock burried in your throbbing pussy.
You know he’s cumming too, and feel his muscles twitching, his shoulders tight with tension.
And his sounds… nothing in Heaven or on Earth sounds the way Wonwoo does when he’s wrapped in pleasure.
Your entire body sings with delight as the two of you hold onto each other, jolting with the aftershocks of your extreme highs.
The two of you hold each other, breathing in one another.
Wonwoo leans his face against your breasts, and you cradle him.
You’ve never felt this close to anyone.
For a moment you can forget that he’s a demon and you’re an angel.
None of that matters right now.
Finally, Wonwoo pulls away with a sigh. “This changes things.”
“It does,” you agree.
“We’re bound together for as long as Mingyu lives, so… you better not decide you hate me tomorrow.”
You laugh. “You irritate me, but I don’t hate you.”
“I’m not going to stop telling Mingyu to pursue his sexual desires.”
“I never expected you to,” you admit with a sigh.
“And you’re… okay with it now?”
“As long as it’s consensual, fine, he can be as dirty as he wants to be.”
Wonwoo laughs, cuddling close to your chest again. “See, in this day and age, some sins like premarital sex are outdated.”
“We could debate that,” you laugh, running your hands through his hair.
“I think I would like that.”
“I feel like it would be a case of unstoppable force meets immovable object.”
Wonwoo chuckles, and you love how beautiful he is when he smiles. “Sounds like us.”
“But we can’t let our sexual escapades get in the way of doing our job for Mingyu,” you declare.
“I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from your work,” Wonwoo groans. “You’d probably bite my cock off if I tried.”
“Consider yourself warned.”
“Consider yourself worshipped.”
“Huh?” you blink down at him.
“You’re still glowing, angel.” Wonwoo plays with a piece of your hair. “It’s been a long time since a demon like me has had anything to look up to.”
“You look up to me?”
“In some ways, but don’t make this more of an embarrassment than it already is.” Wonwoo lets out a sigh. “You’ve reformed me… slightly.”
“Don’t tell me it’s the power of good pussy.”
“Great pussy,” Wonwoo corrects. “And no. If I’m being honest, I think you’ve been changing me for the better for a while, bit by bit.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
Wonwoo smiles. “And I’m just happy.”
“I can live with that.”
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! this one was fun, it was a little late to be posted because my puppy has a tooth infection and it's been a hell of a week. reminder! Patreon charges on the FIRST of every month, so if you're going to get my Patreon, just be aware of that, or wait until June 2nd :)
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🔮 preview. Your core tingles as you test the bindings on your wrists. There is truly so much he can teach you about the darker side of sex, the pain that turns into pleasure, the freedom of being completely immobilized and at the mercy of someone you trust to take care of you.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, bdsm themes, wrist bondage, pleasure dom!Wonwoo, oral/pussy eating, wonwoo has powers in this… including a long demon tongue, overstimulation, finger fucking, body/breast worship, squirting, dacryphilia (arousal from tears/crying), dirty talk, praise, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 140
🌙 starring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
bonus
To your shock, Wonwoo isn’t pushy with you the way he’s pushy with Mingyu. He hasn’t said a word about the soft sex the two of you have continued to have for months now, and he hasn’t made you feel lesser than him for being vanilla either.
Wonwoo treats you very differently than he treats Mingyu, but you know that every time Wonwoo brings up rough sex in Mingyu’s ear, it’s because Wonwoo himself has an interest in it.
The demon has talked about being a sexual pleaser, and your need to please him has grown too. Can you really hold Wonwoo and yourself back from reaching another level by dabbling with the BDSM themes he’s so fond of?
Can you… condemn him to vanilla sex for as long as the two of you are connected through Mingyu?
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AAAA IT’S HERE !!! GOOD MORNING TO MEEEEEEE
heavenly demonic - TEASER
🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “You don’t have to believe me when I say I want to defile you. I’ll prove it to you soon enough,” Wonwoo’s smirk widens. “You might be an angel, but angels aren’t impervious to sin. After all, demons were angels once, until they stopped lying to themselves and gave in to the carnal pleasures. We’ll get there, don’t worry. I might be a demon, but I can be patient.”
tw/cw. Mentions of porn and bdsm, unprotected sex, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, oral/pussy eating, praise, slight degradation, manhandling, fingering, overstimulation, foreplay, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel, baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.6k
🍭 aus. Non idol au, angel & demon au, enemies to lovers, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. So think of it kind of like the Disney movie about emotions, Inside Out, where the demon and angel view Mingyu’s world through a viewing station and speak to him through his subconscious to guide him one way or the other. Also, please note: I’m not religious, so my interpretation of angel!y/n warring with herself over temptation is simply an interpretation and a fanfic.
“There’s something so sexy about having complete control of another person,” Wonwoo insists, leaning back and staring at you with dark eyes. “Admit it, you liked controlling Mingyu before I showed up.”
“It’s not remotely the same.”
“It is, sort of.” The demon shrugs. “You like control. I know you do. Because every time you don’t get your way, you have a little fit.”
“I do not!”
“Look at you, angel, you’re practically stomping your cute little foot right now.” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle, and you hate how attractive it is. “If you play your cards right, someday, I might let you have a little control over me.”
“What, like tie you up?” you scoff.
Wonwoo’s grin widens. “Does that excite you?”
“In your dreams,” you snap.
“Angel, we both know I don’t sleep. But I do imagine things, things about you…”
Your breath catches.
“I imagine what you sound like, what you taste like. I imagine the look in your eye when I have you immobilized and at my mercy. I imagine making you crack, making you finally admit that pleasure is exactly what it means in the dictionary; the feelings of delight, something you enjoy with every fiber of your being, something you’d beg for me to give you again and again.”
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OOOOOOH A WONWOO FIC!!! i’m seated as always 😋
rockstar rivalry
🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “I think he’s a whiny little boy half the time, and he’s obsessed with himself, which, sure, it’s a nod to the old rockstars, the sex, drugs, rock and roll, the alcohol and smoking, but if we’re being honest, don’t we know better by now? Don’t we, as a collective, as a culture, know that the type of shit that was happening in the seventies, eighties, and nineties was not conducive to actual health? Sure, some of the best songs ever written were written under the influence of cocaine, ecstasy, alcohol, etcetera, but are any of Hyuck’s songs instant classics? I, personally, don’t think so. So it feels like a waste of drugs, and a risk to himself, to be doing all of that to emulate the rockstars of old, while being nowhere near their level of talent.”
tw/cw. Mentions of drugs/alcohol, unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral (m/f receiving), sixty-nine, deep throating, multiple reader orgasms, power dynamics, slightly switchy dom leading Hyuck, man handling, bickering, praise, dirty talk, finger sucking, slight overstimulation, multiple sex positions, hair pulling, slight pain kink, tattooed hyuck, big/thick dick Hyuck, etc… I pet names: (hers) wolfie.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.6k
🍭 aus. Rockstar!au, enemies to lovers, tension, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I love doing fics that rely on small sections of interview or article renditions describing the relationship between the mc’s, so this one was super fun to write :)
Prologue:
In an era of PR teams and training, this new generation of singers is beginning to go back to the roots of rock and roll. Yes, they have the live bands, the big hair, the facepaint, glitter and leather, but they’re also starting to bring back something a little more controversial: the art of shit-talking.
Lee Donghyuck has become widely known for his ‘Devil May Care’ antics, for his now infamous Rolling Stones interview, and for a slew of high-profile women who have attempted - and failed, may I add - to tie this seemingly reincarnated 80’s rockstar down. But if there’s one thing almost as famous as the young singer himself, it’s the rivalry he has with fellow up-and-comer, y/n y/l/n, who goes by the stage name Wolfie Muse.
Like ‘The Hyuckster,’ Wolfie has made a reputation for herself in recent years, channeling vibes and aesthetics that are reminiscent of artists like Freddie Mercury in her orchestral power house songs, and the fashion style of David Bowie. She’s not as in-your-face as her male counterpart, but that classic ‘sex, drugs, and rock and roll’ attitude is unmistakable in every interview she takes.
Blind Items have been talking about these two rockstars in indirect musings for some time, with uncorroborated sources claiming they’re ‘exes’ out for vengeance’, while others note that they ‘got into a fight at a throwback-themed party thrown by renowned DJ pair Mark Lee and Johnny Suh last Spring.’
Regardless of history, one thing is certain: these two have sparks that just can’t be contained, and with them both headlining this year's Music Awards, it’s sure to be a spectacle.
One:
With the Music Awards quickly approaching and a tour on the horizon, your life has become a series of press conferences and interviews.
Being an artist has never been about saying the right thing to news anchors and TMZ representatives; no, to you, being an artist is about two things: the music and the fans. You’re aware that PR is part of your job, but you refuse to be anything other than authentic, and - to even your label’s surprise - the ‘genuine approach’ has actually bolstered your success.
You’re at the Vice headquarters today, answering questions for a piece that a new writer is drafting for next month's edition, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t beginning to feel monotonous.
Two Starbucks drinks in, and you’re getting restless, your knee is bobbing as you do your best to go through every question with the right level of genuine thought.
You’re asked about how you and your team choose which cities for your tour, and that’s when you notice someone out of the corner of your eye.
Your skin tingles with even more annoyance, heat flushing through your body, and as you take a second to look like you're considering your answer, your gaze shifts to Lee Donghyuck, who’s standing by the refreshment table off camera.
His eyes lock with yours, and he smirks over the rim of his cup.
Taking a breath, you try to focus on the interview, but it’s nearly impossible to be professional with Hyuck in the same room.
He’s the most judgmental little shit of a human that you’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting, and the last time he released an album, you and a few of your friends had conducted an ‘anti-success’ tarot reading in the hopes that he would crash and burn.
It’s hard to be in the same industry and circles as a person you’ve come to hate, and even more difficult to finish the interview, but as the questions come to an end, you’re more than happy to jump up and try to escape.
“Hiya, Wolfie,” he calls, making you groan with annoyance immediately.
“What do you want?” you snap.
“Noticed you were struggling a bit near the end there,” Hyuck grins.
“Yeah, well…” you scour your mind for a comeback, but you’re just too exhausted, “fuck you.”
The rockstar lets out a laugh. “Fuck you? Is that the best you could come up with?”
“I don’t have time for losers today,” you brush it off.
“Well, we’re both headliners at the Music Awards, so if I’m a loser, what are you?”
“Just the best female rock artist,” you retort.
“Nominee,” Hyuck corrects. “The best female rock artist nominee. And again, I’m the best male rock artist nominee, so… seems we’re equals, Wolfie.”
“Why are you even here?” you scowl.
“Hmm, why would I be at Vice right now?” Hyuck pretends to think on it, raising one black chipped fingernail to his chin. “Oh, right, maybe because I also have an interview? It’s not rocket science, you know.”
“No, I mean, why are you here watching me like some creep?”
Hyuck shrugs. “I like to see you squirm.”
You scoff. “I was not squirming.”
“Okay, little miss, ‘can’t stop shaking my knee.’”
“At least I’m not little mister, ‘clearly hungover on a work day.’”
“Sex, drugs, rock and roll… alcohol, more sex, more drugs,” Hyuck’s grin widens. “I thought we were both on the same wavelength with that, but I guess one of us is a pretender.”
“Fuck you.”
He lifts his cup mockingly. “Fuck you, too, Wolfie.”
Two:
In an exclusive video acquired by TMZ, we can see the tension between rockstars Lee Donghyuck and Wolfie Muse heating up already. While at a Vice interview, the pair were caught exchanging heated words behind the scenes.
This altercation raises questions that have been on the minds of fans, haters, and journalists since the meteoric rise to fame both rock stars enjoyed earlier this year. Like a WWE feud crafted by a creative team, this fiery duo is sure to bring even more eyes to the Music Awards happening this month. Now the question is: is the animosity between these two real, or is it all a PR setup known only to a select few, in hopes of spurring more fans, more media coverage, and more attention?
Three:
Rehearsals for something like the Music Awards are never fun, especially as a performer and an MC. You have dual duties, and what feels like ten times the stress, which isn’t made any easier by the fact that Hyuck is taking longer than his slotted time during prep.
He’ll be announcing Best Female Rock Artist, and he’s been paired up with Johnny Suh, a famous DJ. Suh is perhaps the only person in the world that Hyuck looks up to, and as you wait in the wings for the two of them to finish up their practice, you can see the joy radiating off the rockstar.
For a man who has a resting bitch face and an unparalleled mischievous streak, Hyuck turns quite boyish when he smiles and looks up at Suh.
The sight of him simping over his Hyung is enough to make you laugh, hiding your mouth with a hand, but the amusement is quickly overshadowed by annoyance. Not only is Hyuck overdue on his time, but he’s also extremely cute when he smiles, and the realization makes your blood boil.
Finally, a stage hand announces that the two of them really have to wrap things up, and a minute later, Hyuck is walking toward you in the wings of the stage.
“Took you long enough to read a cue card,” you say under your breath.
“Took you long enough to end up nominated for awards,” he retorts.
“Says you, we have the same career trajectory,” you snap back.
“Well,” Hyuck struggles for a response. “I’m the announcer for Best Female Rock Artist, and if your name comes up on the fucking card…”
“What? Finish your threat.” You grin. “Are you going to read the wrong name and be corrected like that time at the Oscars? I would actually love to see that.”
“I guess it won’t matter, because you won’t win anyway,” Hyuck scoffs.
“Really? Who else would win?” You laugh, knowing he’s grasping at straws now.
“Literally anyone else,” he spits back.
“Wow, so a drunk and delusional.” You shake your head at him. “I really don’t understand what anyone sees in you.”
Hyuck takes a step forward, and your heart leaps to your throat. “They see my handsome good looks, my sexy hair, my attractive smile-”
“Okay, Narcissus,” you blurt out, trying to put some distance between you and Hyuck by taking a step back, but the rockstar only follows you.
“Come on, Wolfie, you might hate me, but you’re not blind.” The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk that makes your skin heat up.
You hate that he is good-looking, and you hate the fact that your body reacts to it, even though your mind is screaming at you to hate this man and everything he stands for.
“You think I’m sexy, just admit it,” Hyuck says, his voice lowering.
“And you know I’m going to win that award,” you fire back once you can find your words.
Hyuck releases a sigh, stepping back. “Keep dreaming.”
Four:
Red carpets are a different monster.
You feel the weight of your makeup on your skin, and the heaviness of the ‘designer dress’ adorning your body. It’s tight in all the right places according to your stylist, but as it hugs your stomach and your ribs, cutting off some of your breathing, you think maybe it’s tight in all the wrong places.
To make matters worse, red carpets are a shit show of yelling, flashing, demands, and the extreme pressure to act graceful and poised through all of the noise.
You do your best to focus on each interview, each small touch and go, most of which are about your outfit, your performance tonight, or your tour.
Somehow, in the circus that is the Music Awards red carpet, you end up next to Hyuck as you both take short interviews, and your skin tingles at the proximity.
“So, I want to address the elephant in the room,” the interviewer grins, and you match the smile, listening hard for the question that is soon to follow. “This rakishly handsome man to your left, Lee Donghyuck, The Huckster. Everyone is dying to know the root of your rivalry.”
“Oh, uh,” you falter, swallowing back the words that are dying to come out of you.
You fight with yourself, wanting to be candid, but remembering your PR training. However… your manager had mentioned that no press is bad press, and a rivalry with Hyuck is something that’s been putting you in the headlines recently…
“Do you want my honest opinion?” you sigh.
“Yes, please,” the interviewer grins, smiling like a vulture.
“I think he’s a whiny little boy half the time, and he’s obsessed with himself, which, sure, it’s a nod to the old rockstars, the sex, drugs, rock and roll, the alcohol and smoking, but if we’re being honest, don’t we know better by now? Don’t we, as a collective, as a culture, know that the type of shit that was happening in the seventies, eighties, and nineties was not conducive to actual health? Sure, some of the best songs ever written were written under the influence of cocaine, ecstasy, alcohol, etcetera, but are any of Hyuck’s songs instant classics? I, personally, don’t think so. So it feels like a waste of drugs, and a risk to himself, to be doing all of that to emulate the rockstars of old, while being nowhere near their level of talent.”
The interviewer stares at you in shock, and you can see her processing your words.
You can’t believe all of that just came out of you.
“Tell us how you really feel,” the interviewer laughs, finally. “So it’s safe to say you’re not exes like the blind items claim.”
“Honestly,” you scoff, “some days, I think he wishes.”
Five:
“And the award for Best Female Rock Singer goes to…” Johnny and Hyuck open the folded envelope.
“No fucking way,” Hyuck laughs under his breath, but the mic still picks it up.
“Wolfie Muse,” Hyuck and Johnny say together, and the entire arena roars with the reveal.
You feel numb even as your team stands to congratulate you. Part of you had known you’d win, but it still feels surreal, and everything is a blur as you make your way to the stage. You’re in such shock that you even accept a hug from both Johnny and Hyuck, although one feels more performative than the other.
Both men stand respectfully behind you as you give your speech, and you’re overwhelmed with emotion as you bare your heart out for everyone. You’re practically shaking as Johnny and Hyuck walk you off the stage after your acceptance, and it’s not until you’re in the wings that the reality and ecstasy truly hit you.
“Congratulations,” Hyuck says, hanging back with you as Johnny scurries off to prepare for his set, which is happening during the middle of the show intermission.
“I-” You’re tongue-tied, staring down at your award.
“You’re part of the closing event, which means you have time to go celebrate, if you want,” Hyuck muses, awkwardly patting you on the shoulder.
“Hyuck…” You swallow the lump in your throat, all your animosity toward him disappearing as it hits you that you’ve won your first major music award.
“Yeah, yeah, you deserved it,” he sighs, his own issues with you clearly evaporating into thin air.
Right now, you’re not Wolfie and Hyuck, the rockstar rivals; you’re just two people, one who won an award, and the other who is genuinely congratulating them for the achievement.
“I can’t even think,” you admit, running a hand through your hair. “Do you want to come have a drink with me in my trailer before I have to do prep for my show?”
“I guess all the awards I was up for already went through, so I have the time, and I make it a rule to never turn down alcohol,” Hyuck smirks.
“Oh, right, congratulations on your Best Male Rock Singer award, too,” you blurt out.
He shrugs. “I guess we both knew we’d be winners tonight.”
He’s so nonchalant, and it’s annoyingly sexy how full of himself he can be.
“Come have a drink before I change my mind,” you laugh, finally feeling grounded as your usual irritation for the man starts to slowly return.
Hyuck only chuckles, following you as you head through the backstage area to the VIP lot outside, where your trailer is.
“So… I got a bottle of Champagne in case I won this,” you explain as you enter the space that contains your hair and makeup station, a closet, and a bed in the back to nap on in case you get tired from working.
“No vodka or whiskey?” Hyuck jokes, taking a seat on the couch area while you grab the bottle from the minifridge.
“This is a champagne occasion,” you insist.
“But you do have vodka or whiskey?” he asks.
With a sigh, you point to a cupboard where you keep your liquid courage, and Hyuck grins as he stands up to saunter over to it.
“You’re going to make me drink my champagne alone?” you question, pouring yourself a glass.
“It’s your win, Wolfie,” Hyuck winks, flicking the cap off the bottle of vodka before lifting it to his lips. “Sex, drugs, rock and roll.”
You groan at his words, in disbelief that you actually invited this man into your trailer.
Hyuck takes a seat, and your eyes are drawn to the way his thighs look in his pinstripe pants. He’d gone for a more refined look this evening, but there are still touches of rockstar. You’re pretty sure someone dusted his face with a bit of glitter, and the chunky rings match the chipped nail polish that he always sports.
A bit of his chest is showing with his unbuttoned white shirt, and you swallow a lump in your throat before downing your glass of champagne.
“Oh, so it’s that kind of party,” Hyuck grins, taking a large swig of the vodka. “And you were on my ass about being drunk while working.”
“I’m not getting drunk,” you insist.
“So what’s made you so thirsty?”
You look over at him again, and you can see the mischief in Hyuck’s smile. He spreads his legs a little, and you have to fight the urge to gaze down at his thighs again.
“Fine, don’t answer, I know you’ve been high-strung today,” Hyuck sighs, turning away and nursing the bottle of vodka.
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“That interview you gave earlier, you know, the one where you said I do a bunch of drugs and act like an idiot, but I don’t actually make any good music.”
Your heart lurches to your throat. “I didn’t know you heard all of that.”
“I was standing three feet away,” he scoffs. “It’s fine, I don’t think that highly of you either.”
“Oh?” You quirk a brow. “And tell me, what have I done to you?”
“You’re a faker. You make money trying to be this sexy rock and roll goddess, but it’s a costume you put on for show, and then take off. I bet you go to sleep early, have a cup of tea, hang out with your cat, that type of bullshit. You are monopolizing on a lifestyle and aesthetic that you don’t actually embody.”
Your words catch in your throat.
“Oh, and I bet you’re celibate,” Hyuck throws in for good measure, flashing you a grin before taking another sip of vodka.
“I am not celibate!” you insist.
“Yeah? Prove it.” Hyuck licks his lips, sitting up on the couch to stare at you.
You scoff loudly, rolling your eyes, but when your gaze returns to your rockstar rival, you realize he’s dead serious.
“Wait, you’re propositioning me?” you ask in shock.
“Kind of been wanting to fuck some sense into you for a while.”
“Fuck some sense into me?” You can’t contain yourself anymore. “I’d like to see you fucking try!”
“Fucking finally,” Hyuck groans. He sets the bottle of vodka on the floor and stands up abruptly, grabbing you by the hips and tugging you to his chest. You let out a squeak in shock, having not expected him to actually do this, but when his lips smash against your own, your mind goes blank.
The glass you’d been holding in your hand slips from your fingers, and you hear it shatter against the floor, but you can’t bring yourself to care as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, kissing him passionately, fighting with his tongue for dominance.
Hyuck groans, one of his own hands slipping down to your ass, where he gropes you through your dress. A moan escapes you, and the rockstar grins slightly, leaning down to get a grip on you so he can lift you up.
Your legs wrap around his hips, and he carries you toward the small hallway that leads to the back bedroom. He pushes you against a wall there, and you bite on his lower lip as a warning, but he only grins into the kiss, the roughness continuing.
You hate that you enjoy the manhandling, the way he’s dominating you, but you won’t take it lying down, and you thread your fingers in his hair, tugging roughly to earn yourself a deep moan that goes straight to your core.
Hyuck moves his mouth down to your throat, and he licks your sweet spot. You release your own moan of pleasure, panting in his ear as he begins to suck on your skin.
“You better not mark me,” you gasp when you feel his teeth drag against your neck.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” he snaps back.
You tug on his hair, forcing his mouth away from your throat, and you begin to attack his own neck, licking and sucking, earning all sorts of sinful sounds from the man who has you pressed against the wall.
“Fuck,” Hyuck says, his voice shaky, his fingers digging into your skin where he’s holding you up.
He tightens his grip on you, then walks you toward the room at the end of your trailer. The blinds are all closed, but there’s a red light on the wall, and it creates a sinful ambiance as he tosses you onto the bed.
“So how hard is it going to be to get you out of that dress?” he asks as he begins to remove his clothes.
“Depends, are you man enough for a challenge?” you retort.
Hyuck scoffs, shaking his head at you. “I swear to god, I will tear that dress off of your fucking body.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You’ve gotta stop challenging me,” Hyuck sighs, ripping off his shirt to expose a thin but built form that’s covered in tattoos. “Don’t you know? I hate to lose.”
He’s on top of you in an instant, lips hot against yours as his hands grab the front of your dress. It’s only when he begins to rip it apart that you realize he wasn't playing around. Hyuck truly doesn’t care that this is a designer garment, he doesn’t care about anything other than getting you naked, and it makes your core pulse with desire.
“You’ll have to pay for this dress,” you tell him between kisses.
Hyuck chuckles. “A rockstar wouldn’t care about ripped clothes.”
“A man would just say yes and be done with it,” you snap back.
He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you back roughly so you have to stare up at him. His voice is low when he says, “I like you best when you don’t talk.”
“Funny, I was going to say the same thing to you,” you grin.
Hyuck shakes his head, letting out a sigh of annoyance, and then he slams his lips to yours again, pushing your ripped up dress off your body so one of his hands can grasp your now exposed breast.
You groan desperately, loving the way he’s immediately rough with you, pinching the sensitive bud between two fingers.
“I always knew you’d like to be dominated,” he says smugly, his lips moving to your throat where his teeth graze your skin again.
“Fuck off,” you snap, but another whimper escapes you when he twists your nipple.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
A powerful surge of adrenaline runs through you, and you push him off of you, leaving the rockstar blinking in confusion.
You tear off what’s left of your outfit, leaving only your high heels, and then, you grab his pants, tugging them down with rough hands.
“Oh, shit,” Hyuck laughs. “Didn’t realize you wanted to suck me off so bad.”
You roll your eyes at him, of course Hyuck thinks you want to give him head, but this isn’t about to be a one way street.
“I make it a habit to never eat alone,” you tell him, standing up straight and looking down at his naked body.
His cock is thick, it’s not the longest you’ve ever seen, but you begin to salivate as you think of the stretch the girth will give you.
“So… we sixty-nineing or what?” Hyuck grins, laying back against the pillow like the cat who ate the canary.
You roll your eyes at how much tact he lacks, but you climb onto the bed anyways, core practically dripping with anticipation.
He helps you adjust over him, and you stare down at his cock, feeling his breath on your wet pussy.
You can’t believe you’re about to do this, but you don’t take the time to think about it, because Hyuck’s hands pull you down to his mouth.
He clearly doesn’t have a care in the world that you’re ‘rivals,’ and as he fully dives into eating your pussy, you throw all inhibitions away as well.
Grabbing the base of his cock, you sink your mouth down on him, not caring to tease. If he’s not going to beat around the bush, neither will you, and from the way he’s sucking on your clit, you think he’s trying to see which one of you can make the other cum first.
It’s a wordless challenge, and it drives you to take as much of him into your mouth as you can. The tip of his girthy cock hits the back of your throat, and your gag reflex kicks in, but you clench your eyes shut and will it away.
Hyuck groans desperately, slurping and sucking your pussy while the vibrations run through you. You can feel your thighs shaking slightly, and Hyuck adjusts his grip on them, warm palms massaging your muscles.
For a moment, you can forget that this is Hyuck, and you can just focus on the fact that he’s eating you out better than anyone else ever has.
You grind down against his mouth, and Hyuck flattens his tongue to allow you to ride his face.
He’s being shockingly good for you… and this is a man who - by all accounts - has made it seem like he’s more dominant. However, you get the sense maybe he’s more versatile than he lets on, and the thought excites you.
You repeatedly push your mouth down on his cock, your eyes watering as you fight your gag reflex, and Hyuck moans wildly, his hips buckling slightly.
You can feel your orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and it spurs you on as you suck Hyuck stupid, wanting him to be the one who breaks first.
His lips wrap around your clit, and he holds you still, forcing you to take everything he’s giving you.
You can no longer hold in your moans, and you pull off of his cock, wrapping your fist around it so you can stroke him off while you press your face to his thigh, whimpering like a whore.
Hyuck grins a little, but he doesn’t stop his motions, and soon, your entire body is teetering on the edge.
You try to hold it off, but you can’t help the orgasm that washes over you, enveloping your form with pleasurable shivers.
The high is overwhelming, and you’ve never felt more alive as Hyuck eats you through your orgasm, his mouth still moving like a man who is ravaged by hunger.
But soon, it becomes too much, and you lift off of his face, whimpering and shaking.
Hyuck pushes you off of him, and you land on the bed as he sits up. “I could eat that pretty pussy for breakfast, lunch and dinner, Wolfie,” he muses. “Now are you ready to take my cock, or what?”
You let out a breath, shaking your head. “I thought we agreed to keep the talking to a minimum.”
“No, I said I like it better when you don’t talk, we never agreed I would shut up,” he laughs, adjusting you on the bed before getting on top of you.
Your legs wrap around his hips, and you stare up at the beautifully infuriating man. “Don’t be two pump chump.”
Hyuck laughs even harder, then he leans over you, his lips ghosting your ear, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Two of his fingers slide into your mouth rather suddenly, and his other hand guides the head of his cock toward your core.
You’re so soaked that it’s easy for him to push into you, and you groan at the stretch, sucking his fingers diligently.
“So this is the way I can shut you up, huh?” Hyuck groans when he’s fully inside of you. “Give you something to suck on and you turn into a complete sub.”
You open your eyes and glare at him, teasing your teeth against his knuckles.
“I know you liked sucking my cock,” Hyuck continues. “Don’t try to deny it. And I also know that you’re about to love this.”
With one slight adjustment to anchor himself, Hyuck begins to rut into you, and your eyes roll back into your head from the sensation.
He’s just so thick, and you can feel him stretching you out with every motion. Your core is still sensitive from your orgasm, and it makes your toes curl as he fucks into you, finding a pace that works for you both.
You moan around his fingers, fully immersed once again.
His sounds aren’t something you’re averse to either, and there’s something sexy about the slight whining tone he makes between gasps and grunts.
Hyuck pulls his fingers out of your mouth to smash his lips against yours, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning desperately as he fucks you stupid.
Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and you kind of love the wet sounds coming from between your legs, the skin on skin, the heat and sweat.
His teeth tease your lower lip and you groan, tugging on his hair.
It seems you both have a thing for pain, and Hyuck’s pace quickens, the head of his cock hitting a deep spot inside of you that has your toes curling.
“Fuck,” Hyuck groans, pulling out of you abruptly. He flips you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and lifting you into doggy style before slamming into you again.
You mewl against the sheets, pressing your cheek firmly to the mattress as you grab for something to steady yourself. His hands are on your hips, tugging you back toward him to meet every thrust as he ravishes you in the best possible way.
“Fuck, pussy tastes amazing, but it feels like fucking magic,” he groans.
Your core flutters around him, and you love the dirty praise, which is something he clearly knows, because his thrusts falter slightly.
“I knew you liked dirty talk like this shit,” Hyuck laughs. “Knew you’d like listening to your rival come undone as he fucks you stupid.”
For once, you have no response, and you can only moan, pushing your hips back toward him, desperate for more.
“Fuck, keep doing that, keep fucking twerking on my fucking cock,” Hyuck grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. “And rub your clit too, I wanna feel you cum this time.”
You shove your hand under your body, two fingers finding the sensitive bud. Your core tightens around him again, and you both moan from the sensation.
“Just like that, fuck,” Hyuck groans, and his words make your entire body tingle.
You let your sounds escape you uncensored as he fucks you toward another high, and the rubbing of your clit has all of your muscles tensing in anticipation.
Then, he grabs your hair, tugging your head back so your body is arched in an odd shape. “Don’t hold back,” Hyuck warns, and from the angle of your throat, your sounds are much more guttural now, but there’s something so sexy about the animalistic way in which he’s fucking you.
“Keep going, keep rubbing that pretty pussy,” he instructs, and you give in to him being the dominant now.
You give in to Hyuck, and it actually feels amazing.
Each rough thrust has you closer and closer to the edge, and soon, your entire body is tensed with anticipation.
“That’s it, cum for me, cum on my fucking cock,” Hyuck groans, and without any more prompting needed, you let go.
Your orgasm slams through you, your pussy clamping down hard on Hyuck, who lets out a desperate moan.
Then he’s pushing you down flat, his body collapsing on your back as he shallowly fucks you, his cock throbbing in your own pulsating hole.
The warmth of his cum fills you, and the way he’s panting against your shoulders has your body tingling with sensitivity.
The two of you are gasping, and you can feel his heart racing against your back as you both try to steady yourselves.
A few minutes pass, and then Hyuck groans. “I probably should have asked you about birth control and STD’s and shit.”
Your heart lurches into your throat. “Did you just give me something?!”
“No, I’m clean, are you?”
“Fuck off,” you groan, pushing yourself up so he has to roll off of your back while you grab some tissues to deal with the cum that’s starting to drip off of you.
“So we’re both clean, good,” Hyuck laughs, but then his demeanor gets more serious. “This doesn’t change anything, by the way.”
“Yeah, in your dreams this changes anything,” you snap back.
“In your dreams!”
And the irritation is back.
You shake your head, going to the small bathroom to clean yourself up. You grab some clothes, checking your phone for the time. “Fuck, my team will be here soon to prep me for my show.”
“Wouldn’t want to hold little miss Best Female Rock Artist back,” Hyuck chuckles, pulling on his jeans.
“Yeah, get the fuck out of my trailer.”
“You’d have to beg me on your knees if you wanted me to stay.”
You roll your eyes. “Again, I don’t want you here.”
“Sure you don’t.” Hyuck grabs you by your hips, pulling you in for one last heated kiss, and when he pulls away, he’s grinning. “All bark and no bite.”
You can’t with him, and you let out a frustrated sigh.
“I’ll be seeing you,” Hyuck winks as he heads toward the exit door of your trailer. “And again, this doesn’t change anything.”
You wonder if he’s trying to convince you or himself, but you don’t dwell on it. You have a job to do, and you’d never let a man - let alone a man like Hyuck - get in the way of your work.
This is something to deal with another time, and you’ll cross that bridge then.
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! love some rockstar au!
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🔮 preview. Hyuck always seemed like a wild card to you, so it’s a shock that he actually has a calming effect when you’re around him, and you melt into the feeling of relaxation, the feeling that everything will be okay.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, mentions of roleplay, alcohol, grinding, groping, foreplay, oral (f/m receiving), dick sucking, deep throating, pussy eating, overstimulation, multiple reader orgasms, mutual orgasms, dirty talk, praise, thick cock Hyuck, etc… I petnames. (hers) Wolfie.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 115
🌙 starring. Haechan x afab!Reader
bonus
It’s been over a year since the now infamous onstage moment at the Music Awards, wherein ‘The Hyuckster’ had to present his rival, Wolfie Muse, with the distinction of Best Female Rock Artist. And what a year it has been.
Blind items about this pair of rock stars have been popping up left, right, and center. But blind items are just gossip, and as a journalist who did attend university for a degree on the subject, I don’t deal in word of mouth. The picture below depicts one Mister Lee Donghyuck, leaving a hotel in Madrid, and whose hotel you may ask? Well, Wolfie Muse’s hotel, where she stayed after doing a concert two days ago.
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there’s just something about mean!haechan that gets me 😋
hot
🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. Your muscles tighten, and you feel very much like a cat waiting to pounce. Is now the time to rip the band-aid off? You’ve spent years holding in your attraction to your best friend… is a heatwave the time to express yourself? When tensions are as high as the nonexistent temperature on your stupid fucking broken ass thermostat?
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, mutual pining, masturbation, heat wave makes people horny, ice play, shower sex, cold shower sex, manhandling, praise, dirty talk, oral, pussy eating, munch!Mingyu, big dick!Mingyu, multiple reader orgasms, multiple sex positions, using a hand-held shower head as a sex toy, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.3k
🍭 aus. Non idol au, best friends to lovers, heatwave, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I actually had so much fun with this one. Summer is coming up, we’ve started to get some heat in my city, and it’s just nostalgic for me. Enjoy!
One:
“So, heatwave protocol,” Seungcheol sighs, looking over his clipboard as you and the rest of the landscaping crew stand outside his truck to start the day. “Clearly, none of us are too happy about waking up at 4am, but we will continue with the 5 am to 9 am schedule, with a siesta when the sun is hottest, and then pick up after with the 5 pm to 9 pm. And before anyone says anything, yes, I know it sucks.” His eyes scan over to Soonyoung, who has his arms crossed over his chest, his white hoodie pulled all the way up with the hood obscuring the dark bags under his eyes. “This isn’t optimal, but it’s a once-in-ten-years heatwave, and I just can’t have you guys working in direct sun when it’s like this. We have ample sunscreen in the back of the truck, as well as a huge cooler filled with ice and water. Let’s just get the job done.”
There’s a stagnant pause, and a few groans, then the man to your left perks up. “Hey boss, because this is such an inconvenience, we’re getting paid for a twelve-hour shift, right, even though we’re technically doing two blocks of four with a total of eight?”
“Huh?” Seungcheol puts down his clipboard, staring at Jeonghan.
“You know,” Jeonghan grins, “like, our work day, including the siesta, is now really like sixteen hours, which is kind of crazy. What are we supposed to do during the middle part for eight hours? It’s kind of shit.”
Seungcheol sighs, and you know he kind of hates being the foreman with a crew of people he grew up with. Jeonghan doesn’t really respect Seungcheol as a boss, nor do Soonyoung and Seungkwan, who can be a hassle most of the time.
The only people who come to work, put their heads down, and do their jobs, are you and your roommate Mingyu.
The tall man stands on your right, and he nudges you as Jeonghan and Seungcheol get into an argument over wages. “Thanks for waking me up this morning.”
You’d felt like death when your alarm went off at 4 am, and when you realized Mingyu’s phone was blaring right next to his head but he was sleeping through it, you’d been forced to shake him into consciousness… which had taken at least five harsh pushes of his broad shoulders.
It’s 5 am now, and you don’t feel amazing, but you don’t feel as bad as you did an hour ago.
This summer has been exceptionally hot, so being outside in the cool air while the sun starts to rise over the horizon is kind of special. No one else is awake, the roads were clear, and part of you is kind of excited about the idea of working in the morning, getting a midday nap, then going back to work for another four hours.
You’ll get through this, you’re sure of it.
After all, it’s just one week.
Two:
You know the moment you step into your apartment that something is wrong. Usually in the summer, Mingyu and you choose to keep the apartment at a nice 20 degrees Celsius (68 Fahrenheit)... but this is not the usual temperature.
“Did you forget to turn on the AC?” you ask, hot and bothered from working and now even hotter and more bothered with annoyance.
“I never turned it off last night,” Mingyu responds, clearly dumbfounded as you both throw down your work gear and head to the thermostat.
“Wait, it’s not on,” you say, puzzled as you hit the power button.
The thermostat that controls the air conditioner does not turn on.
“Are you pushing it?” Mingyu questions.
“Of course I’m pushing it!” you snap, feeling bad almost immediately at your short fuse, but the anxiety is creeping in. “Mingyu, you try,” you insist.
He presses the power button, but the screen remains blank.
“Is it broken?” he asks.
You feel like you can’t breathe, and your body is covered in dirt from working landscaping, your shirt still damp from sweat. You feel uncomfortable already, and this thermostat issue is not helping. “I’m having a shower then I’ll call the landlord,” you decide.
“I’ll keep fiddling with it,” Mingyu responds. “Maybe one of the wires is messed up.”
He’s in school part-time to get his electrician’s certification, and you hope to God as you head to the one shared bathroom that this is a wiring issue. You run the water cold in the shower, wincing a little at the temperature, but you’re determined to completely cool yourself off if the thermostat is indeed broken.
You can’t even imagine what today - what this week - will look like if your air conditioner has decided to die on you.
Ten minutes later, you’re exiting the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your body, your hair still damp with cold water and refreshing you as you walk through the already warming apartment.
You notice as you call your building manager that Mingyu has closed all the blinds, which is a start to keep out the heat.
As you talk with the building manager, he explains that this isn’t an issue anyone else has been having yet, so it must be specific to your unit. He’s an older man, to fit the older building the two of you have lived in since you started college five years ago. You’ve been through a lot living here, and your building manager has never been helpful.
“I’ll send someone to come look at it, but they might not be able to get there until Thursday, our usual handyman is on vacation,” your building manager explains.
“What?” you gasp, locking eyes with Mingyu. “But it’s a Monday and a heat wave! We can’t wait until Thursday!”
“Then call someone else,” your building manager says simply.
With a groan, you hang up on him. “Mingyu, do we know anyone who works with air conditioners?
He looks as at a loss as you feel, and after half an hour of calling Seungcheol, asking around, and looking up the company that supplies the air conditioner and thermostat, you’re dismayed to realize that every person who works on air conditioners and thermostats is already booked up for the week. One man offered to come as an ‘emergency favour’, but he wanted to charge you five hundred dollars just to look at the issue, not even for the work, which you can only assume would also be severely inflated when the bill finally came.
You collapse on the couch with Mingyu. “What do we do?”
“I think… we try to ride it out,” he sighs.
“Mingyu, we’re a south-facing unit. We get full sun all day.”
“I know.” He lets out another deep breath. “Maybe we can try to get some rest and sleep through the worst of it?”
“I mean… we can give it a try.”
Three:
You had woken up not three hours into your nap with your skin covered in sweat and your shirt sticking uncomfortably to your body. Try as you might to fall back to sleep, you simply couldn’t, and with a sigh, you’d gotten up to go to the kitchen, which is where you found Mingyu standing with an ice pack on his neck.
“Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” he had asked.
After a brief debate, you had called Seungcheol, and he had invited you to come siesta at his apartment where he has a private building pool as part of the amenities list.
So here you are, the only two people braving the heat just in order to submerge yourself in water that had gone from cold to lukewarm within an hour.
“Isn’t the pool supposed to be temperature controlled?” you ask, adjusting the hat on your head to shade more of your sunscreen covered skin.
“Supposed to be.” Mingyu groans, his shoulders already turning pink despite all the protection he’d lathered onto his body. “This week is going to be Hell.”
You agree with him, and while you’re staring at the sunburn developing on his broad shoulders, you feel the heat making your mind fuzzy. You can’t pull your eyes away from his body, how chiselled he is. The way his perfect muscles ripple along his chest and biceps…
Working in landscaping this summer has done wonders for him, not that he wasn’t jacked already.
You and Mingyu had met as children in first grade, and you’ve been best friends ever since.
Sure, you know that objectively he’s extremely attractive, but he’s the best friend someone could ever ask for, so you’ve held yourself back all of these years in the hopes of keeping him by your side in any capacity.
“What are you looking at?” Mingyu asks, pulling your attention from his form.
Your skin heats up even more, and you submerge yourself all the way to your neck in the water. “Your shoulders are burning,” you tell him, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Fuck.”
Four:
“Okay, so the building manager is sending the repair guy on Thursday,” you sigh as you exit Mingyu’s truck at the fifth hardware store in search of a portable air conditioner.
The parking lot is black asphalt, and it has this distinct smell of petroleum perfuming the scorching air. It’s so hot that the road is fucking offgassing, and it makes your nose scrunch up as you and Mingyu hurry into the store.
As soon as you’re through the doors, you’re hit with the cooling AC, and it makes you both groan a sigh of relief.
You navigate to the portable air conditioners aisle, and you’re shocked to find the shelves empty, which is when Mingyu waves over a worker in an orange apron.
“Excuse me, sir,” he smiles. “Are there any portable air conditioners left?”
“Unfortunately we’re sold out,” the man frowns.
“Okay, I understand, but this is the fifth store we’ve been to,” you say, voice choking a little as defeat washes over you. “Everywhere is empty on portable air conditioners, and the last place said you might have some in stock.”
“Sorry, miss,” the man says, turning his attention to you. “We have full air conditioners, not the portable kind, and we could have someone drop it off and install it in two days if you’re interested.”
Two days from now is Thursday, which is when your handyman is coming to look at your thermostat and air conditioner anyways. Besides which, you can’t afford to buy a completely new air conditioner.
You let out a groan, and Mingyu is quick to smooth things over. “Sorry for her, our AC broke yesterday morning, and no one is willing to come out and look at it. We’ve been driving around all afternoon and nowhere has any portable units. Is it possible you could show me on the computer if any of the other locations of your store have any in stock?”
You can’t believe Mingyu is keeping his cool, and you walk around like a zombie as he chats with the sales rep. After a while, he comes back, shaking his head, and you plop down onto a piece of promotional outdoor furniture.
“What now?” you ask.
“Now,” Mingyu sighs, sitting down next to you, “we walk through the aisles here, and kill some time before we have to go to work again at 5 pm. At least they have air conditioning here.”
Five:
It’s night two, and try as you might to open all the doors and windows, the air outside isn’t even that cool. You have a wet cloth on your chest, but the droplets are gliding down your skin to your sheets and making damp spots that annoy you as you toss and turn.
The irritation is palpable, and from the irritation comes a need for distraction.
You flip onto your back in annoyance, staring at the ceiling and imagining Mingyu in the pool. You feel dirty even considering your best friend in a sexual light, but fuck it, you can’t help yourself. Every muscle in your body feels tight and wound up, and for the first time in two days, you feel a touch of relief as your own hand glides down your stomach, under your thin sleeping shorts, and makes contact with your core.
God, your pussy is hot, your fingers are hot-
You groan a little, throwing your head back and adjusting the wet cloth to put it over your face, hoping to muffle your sounds a little and cool the skin of your burning cheeks.
Rubbing your clit distracts you from the heat if you focus hard enough, so you put all of your energy into that. You feel yourself start to relax a little, but you’re sweating where your forearm is resting along your hip.
You can only get yourself so close to the edge without getting annoyed, so you pull your hand from your shorts with a sigh of frustration.
You lie there for a couple of minutes, and then you furiously get out of bed, stomping to your door to head to the kitchen.
You raid the freezer, finding some ice, and you plop a cube into your mouth while you begin to drag another across your body, groaning a little at the feeling of cold water dripping down your skin as the ice melts from the heat of you.
This could work… but it would be a mess, especially if you took it to your bedroom. Would the hardwood floors ever recover from multiple drip spots?
Another groan of annoyance has you collecting a bowl of ice and taking it to the tiled bathroom, where you sit on the edge of the tub and start rubbing your skin again in the dark.
You just feel oversensitized, and the shitty light in the bathroom wouldn’t do you any favours, so you relish the darkness, where you slowly find reprieve through the ice you drag across your body.
You tease your collarbones, enjoying the way that water drips down the front of your shirt, tantalizing your nipples and making them pebble.
You throw your head back, drawing the ice along your neck as more beads of water cascade down the front of your shirt, like dripping diamonds from an expensive necklace.
That’s when the door creaks open and you jump.
“Oh,” Mingyu stops. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were in here… what are you doing in here in the dark?”
“Don’t turn the light on-”
It’s too late, he’s already flipping the switch, and then your best friend is staring at you sitting on the edge of the tub, your white tank top wet and clinging to your chest where your pebbled nipples press against the fabric.
“I’m just trying to cool off,” you explain, quickly covering your chest and choking on the ice cube that you still have in your mouth.
“Why don’t you have a cold shower?”
“I was working up to it,” you sigh with annoyance.
“And why are the lights off?”
“I’m overstimulated!”
“Am I asking too many questions?”
“Yes!” you blurt out.
Mingyu stares at you, and you notice the way he swallows thickly. You see his gaze dip a little toward your chest, and your skin heats all over.
Is he… checking you out?
You know the heat is making you feel some kind of way, but is it affecting him too?
Mingyu turns off the lights again. “I uh… I should leave you alone.”
“I mean, did you need to use the bathroom?” you ask, not wanting him to go just yet.
“I was considering a cold shower,” Mingyu admits sheepishly.
Your muscles tighten, and you feel very much like a cat waiting to pounce. Is now the time to rip the band-aid off? You’ve spent years holding in your attraction to your best friend… is a heatwave the time to express yourself? When tensions are as high as the nonexistent temperature on your stupid fucking broken ass thermostat?
“Mingyu?” you ask.
“Yes?” His response is quick, too quick, and you notice the way he’s fidgeting, his eyes fixed on yours as if he wants to look elsewhere - perhaps down at your chest - but is trying very hard to fight the urge.
“Maybe… we should have a cold shower together,” you tell him, your entire body heating up again despite the cold ice cube wedged in your cheek.
“Together?” he chokes out.
“Listen, maybe it’s the heat making me… irritated, but I just… I can’t pretend right now that I’m not attracted to you. And I know you’re my best friend, you’re my best friend in the entire world, and I know this jeopardizes that, but fuck, I’m so hot, and you’re so hot, and fuck it, maybe we should give this a shot.”
The words come out of you before you can stop them, a jumbled mess. All of your emotions have just been poured out to your best friend, and all he can do is stand there and stare at you.
“You think I’m hot?” he asks after a beat of silence.
“I have eyes, Gyu,” you laugh.
He fidgets. “Why did you never say anything?”
“I didn’t want to wreck our friendship, and… based on how you’re reacting, now I’m getting scared,” you cough awkwardly.
“Don’t be scared,” Mingyu tells you, letting out a sigh and running a hand through his hair. “I just… I wish one of us would have spoken up sooner.”
“Huh?” You gape at him in shock.
“You were my first crush, when we met on the playground when we were like six,” Mingyu admits, and even in the dim light of the bathroom, you can see his ears turning red. “And then we became friends and I realized you were also the best person I knew, so I just… never said anything, and was happy to be just friends.”
“I was your first crush?” you squeak.
“It sounds kind of lame,” he says awkwardly.
“Mingyu, you were my first crush, too. Have we both been into each other this whole time but holding back for the sake of friendship?” Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, and you stare up at your big best friend. “Are we both stupid or something?”
You can’t help but laugh, and he joins you with a chuckle of his own. “I think we’re both just cautious and respectful, that’s not a bad thing.”
“So… you’ll have a cold shower with me?” you grin, standing up, and swallowing the tiny shard of ice that was still in your mouth.
“I’ll do more than just shower with you, if you want,” Mingyu responds, swallowing thickly.
You hold out your hands for him, and Mingyu lets you tug him toward you. He looks down at you, and in the shade of the bathroom, you can still see the apprehension, the longing, in his expression.
“Kiss me,” you whisper, reaching up to cup his face.
His cheek is warm, and Mingyu lets out a sigh, pressing against your palm, which is when you realize this is the hand you’d been dragging ice across your body with, so your skin must be cooler and nice against his hot form.
You watch his tongue dip out to wet his lips, and then he leans forward, closing the minuscule distance that’s kept you from each other for so many years.
Mingyu releases a groan immediately, and it’s as if the flood gates burst open. Suddenly, you’re both all over each other, tongues fighting, hands grabbing.
All of the lust that has built up for your best friend comes crashing down on you, filling your body with a fire that rivals that of the heatwave.
His hands find your bare thighs, and he lifts you up, forcing your legs around his hips while he kisses you desperately.
God, the sounds he’s making go straight to your throbbing core, and you clutch onto his shoulders. He sets you down on the sink vanity, and you keep your legs wrapped around him, unwilling to let go despite the heat that is beginning to rise between your forms.
You sense Mingyu reaching for something, and when something cold makes contact with your collar bone, you realize he’d seen your bowl of ice. He traces it along your body, making you sigh with relief, your head tilting back to give him more access.
Then, Mingyu does something unexpected, he puts a piece of ice between his lips too, and uses that to drag along your throat. You gasp at how good it feels, threading your fingers through his hair to keep his head close to your neck, where he continues to stimulate you.
Meanwhile, his hand drags the ice down, and the water droplets it leaves in its wake drip down your shirt.
Your nipples are pebbled again, and you arch your back, pushing your chest toward your best friend.
Mingyu reads you like the back of his hand, and he tugs down your tank top, finally exposing your breasts.
He drags the ice along your nipple, circling it and making you whine desperately.
Mingyu groans as he continues on your throat, but the ice in his mouth is small enough now that he sucks it into his own cheek, his cool lips now pressing kisses along your neck.
“Fuck,” you whimper, grabbing at his own shirt, which he allows you to tug off of him.
The brief moment where you separate to remove the fabric has your desperation going into overdrive, and you immediately latch onto each other again, your lips meeting in a fiery kiss whose flames are muted by the ice still in his mouth.
Fuck it feels good to be kissing cool lips, and the contrast of hot and cold has your core getting wetter by the second.
Mingyu continues to fondle your breasts, and you moan against his lips, beginning to wiggle your hips as an invitation.
Just like every other time he’s read your mind through your wordless motions, Mingyu pulls away, gasping.
Then, with his eyes locked on yours, he sinks to his knees against the tiled bathroom floor.
With one rough tug, he tears your sleeping shorts off your body, so now the only thing covering your form is your thin white tank top.
You stare down at him, heart racing at the view as he begins to kiss up your legs with cold lips.
When his mouth reaches your core, you begin to pant from the feeling of his breath on your most sensitive area. Then, Mingyu licks your pussy, and your entire body surges with pleasure.
You throw your head back, reaching down and tangling your fingers in his hair, anchoring him to your core.
Mingyu clearly doesn’t mind your somewhat forceful motions, and he groans as he dives in to eating you out.
He’s always been a foodie, but you didn’t realize his love for eating would be applicable in the bedroom - or bathroom in this case - as well.
“Holy shit,” you gasp when he begins to suck on your clit, his cold tongue flicking your sensitive bud deliciously.
It’s been a long time since you had sex. You had tried dating once or twice throughout high school and university, but it was always made impossible due to your need to compare every romantic partner to Mingyu. Your best friend has always treated you so well that no man has ever been able to stand next to him in that way, and now, you realize no man has ever eaten you out like this either.
It’s yet another mark on Mingyu’s resume of being the best man you’ve ever met, and it makes your heart swell as your best friend eats you out like his life depends on it.
“I’m close,” you whimper, panting as your muscles tighten.
Mingyu’s fingers grip your thighs tighter, and he sucks on your clit with even more fervour. You can feel sweat beginning to accumulate on your clavicle, but there’s something so erotic about having sex with your best friend for the first time during a hot and sticky heatwave.
“Fuck, fuck-” you bite at your lip, hardly able to contain your whimpers as you tip over the edge. Your pussy throbs desperately, clinging around nothing while Mingyu laps you through your high.
Your toes curl from the intensity of it, your body shaking as your muscles scream at you to pull away from this mind numbing pleasure, but you refuse to push Mingyu away, you want the full sensation of him, after all, it took you both long enough to get to this situation.
You’re gasping when Mingyu finally pulls away, and he stands up, looking down at you.
“Cold shower?” he asks.
“Yes, please,” you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat.
He reaches for his shorts, and you reach for your shirt. A moment later, you’re both fully naked, and one look at you has Mingyu practically growling. He’s on you again before you can blink, his lips hot and desperate against yours.
Your thighs wrap around his hips, and your hand sneaks down to grab his cock, which you can feel is aching in your palm.
“Fuck me,” you tell him, biting at his bottom lip as you line him up with your wet hole. “I can’t wait anymore.”
Mingyu groans, panting as he rests his forehead against your own. Then, with one motion, he slowly begins to slide into you.
You gasp at the stretch, your hands flying to his shoulders to keep yourself steady while your body tries to acquiesce to such a massive cock.
“If it’s too much-” he chokes.
“No, push it all the way in, fuck, I need you so bad,” you whimper, on the verge of tears from all the emotions flooding through you.
“Okay.” He nods, swallowing a lump in his throat as he slowly sinks all the way into you.
You both groan when he’s fully sheathed, and you pull his lips to yours again, letting him eat up your sounds of pleasure.
Mingyu wraps an arm around your lower back, one hand finding your thigh, and then he lifts you off the sink vanity, carrying you to the shower while balls deep in your aching core.
Even amidst the kisses, he’s able to turn the water on, and after testing it with his fingers, he steps into the enclosed space, holding you tight to his burning body.
You let out a squeal when the cold water hits your form, but within seconds, it’s a welcome reprieve. The shower is a contrast to Mingyu’s body, which radiates heat as you kiss, and he presses you back against the tiled wall, which also helps cool you down.
He pins you in a way that makes it easy to use leverage, and then, he begins to thrust.
You can feel your pussy stretching with each motion, and you are unable to hold in your whines and moans as he fucks you. You can see him losing control, and you can feel it in the way his thrusts become erratic, as if he’s chasing a feeling he never thought he’d be able to obtain.
You thread your fingers through his hair, gasping when his lips make contact with your throat.
“Feels so good, Gyu,” you whimper.
He groans in response, and you realize he has a thing for praise.
“Fucking me so fucking good,” you continue, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of pleasure already beginning to bubble up inside of your core again.
“I love your sounds,” Mingyu moans, his lips moving to your ear where he sucks your lobe between hot lips.
You release a whimper, clinging desperately to his shoulders.
“This is better than I ever imagined,” he admits, and there’s a hint of vulnerability in his tone that makes your core tighten around him. “You have no idea.. How long… how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
“Me too, Gyu,” you assure him, nuzzling against his cheek to prompt him to pull back and look at you. “And now, we never have to go back to holding ourselves away from each other. We can do this as much as we want.”
Mingyu’s lips part, his thrusts faltering slightly, and then he pulls out of you, setting you on the slippery shower floor and turning you so your back is to his chest.
“There’s always something I’ve wanted to try,” Mingyu groans in your ear, and he grabs the removable handheld shower head he’d installed two years back. He pushes you slightly over, entering you from behind, and then his free arm braces across your chest to keep you standing while he brings the shower head to your clit.
The cold water stimulates your sensitive bud, making you cry out and grasp his forearm like an anchor keeping you standing.
“Feels good, baby?” he asks, his breath ghosting past your ear and making you shiver as cold water droplets drip down your body.
“So good, Gyu,” you cry out, your eyes clenching shut when he begins to fuck you again, using the shower head as a type of vibrating water pressure tool on your clit.
“I only ever want to make you feel good,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your throat.
Your body jolts, your core tightening, and you can’t find the words to tell him you’re close to an orgasm, but you don’t have to. His pace increases, his moans getting louder in your ear, and the two of you are so in tune with each other, that the moment your pussy clamps down on his cock, your orgasm ravaging through your body, you feel him reach his release as well.
The two of you cum together, gasping and clutching at one another, the cool water unrelenting on your aching, hot core.
It’s the best, most unexpected and imaginative orgasm you’ve ever had, and it makes your legs feel like jelly as Mingyu finally stops thrusting.
The two of you are panting in the dark shower, and his grip on you in the only thing keeping you upright.
“Here,” Mingyu says, swallowing a lump in his throat as he slowly pulls out of you.
Your legs continue to shake, and he holds you while he uses the shower head to wash you off, any fluid remnants remaining in your body washing down the drain as he carefully provides aftercare.
You can’t find words yet, so you simply let him take care of you, helping you out of the shower once you’re both clean so he can wrap a towel around your form.
He even carries you back to your room once he’s dried you off, and you collapse onto the bed. Curling up against his chest makes you realize you’re both sufficiently cooled from the shower, his skin a pleasant temperature as you cuddle close.
Mingyu strokes your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head while you find your voice.
“Gyu?” you ask finally.
“Yeah?”
“Is it too early to say I love you?”
He laughs. “No, because I love you too.”
“Thank fucking God,” you chuckle, and with that, you doze off into the most peaceful sleep you’ve had since the start of this whole ‘curse of Mother nature’ heat wave fiasco. You’re at peace knowing that this feels right, there’s no apprehension, no risk of the two of you losing each other.
You can be with your best friend, fully, the way you’ve always wanted to be with him, and all it took was a once-in-ten-years, global warming meets bullshit old air conditioner.
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! meant to post this a touch sooner but life has been busy as heck
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🔮 preview. The first time you’d had sex, water and temperature had been key elements, and tonight is the first official night of your honeymoon, so it feels fitting to be submerged in a hot tub amidst a frozen forest when you begin kissing your husband’s skin.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, outdoor sex, hottub sex, exhibitionism, pining, body worship, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, dirty talk, praise, manhandling, big dick!Mingyu, newlywed honeymoon sex, etc… I petnames. (hers) baby.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.1k I teaser wc. 130
🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
bonus
You’d finally expressed your deepest feelings to Mingyu during a heatwave, so when you begin to plan your honeymoon in the wake of an engagement, it feels counterintuitive to choose somewhere tropical.
You’ve both grown a slight disdain for locations that are simply too hot, and there’s something charming about the winter wonderland cold destination honeymoons you look up online.
“Are you guys seriously going to fucking Norway for your Honeymoon?” Seungcheol asks one day while you drink and hangout in his apartment.
“Norway, Sweden, and Finland,” Mingyu corrects.
“Think Northern Lights, igloos, dog sledding, that sort of thing,” you chime in with a grin, cuddling closer to your official boyfriend of four years.
“Sounds horrible,” Soonyoung groans. “I’d much rather go to Bora Bora or something.”
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OMG A MINGYU FIC
yes, sir
🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You wonder if Johnny is vocal in bed. He’s a quarterback and used to leading with authority and confidence. Would he be good at dirty talk? You’ve heard from your friends that many of these frat boy football players are kind of lame in the imagination department, that sex is often wordless and entirely physical… but as someone who has spent her entire life in her head and not her own body, you’ve started to realize that having a partner who talks to you and puts your mind at ease when you lose your virginity is something that would be important.
tw/cw. Virgin!reader, loss of virginity, masturbation, mentions of porn, reddit sex audios, sex proposition, heavy foreplay, oral, fingering, squirt, multiple reader orgasms, protected sex, huge dick!Johnny, ‘we’ll make it fit’, pussy stretching, mutual orgasms, praise, dirty talk, slight sir kink, soft dom!Johnny, body worship, breast worship, slight religious themes, etc… I pet names: (hers) Princess.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k
🍭 aus. Non idol au, frat au, brother’s best friend, virgin reader, football player!Johnny, Cheerleader!Y/N, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. So the smut scene is 4.8k which is one of the longest I’ve ever written, but I wanted to go back to my frat roots and do a virgin reader with a soft dom who ensures she has the perfect first time, you know, something you can only find in fanfic ;)
One:
There’s nothing like cheer practice the day after a successful game. While many don’t consider cheerleading as an actual sport, the smell of sweat and astroturf that floods your senses as you finish the new routine would beg to differ.
As the practice winds down, you grab your duffel bag with a few of your teammates, falling into stride with Yeji and Yuna.
“Johnny was on fire last night,” Yeji breathes, fanning her chest before taking a large gulp from her water bottle.
“He’s the best quarterback we’ve ever had,” Yuna agrees, pulling her sweat pants on over her shorts. “But I still think Jaehyun is the one to watch.”
“Yeah, because you're obsessed with him,” Yeji scoffs, undoing her ponytail and letting her curled hair fall perfectly down across her shoulders. “Ever since he took you to Spring Formal last year and you sucked him off under the bleachers afterward.”
“He’s got a really pretty dick,” Yuna smirks.
You shake your head, laughing a little at how vulgar your beautiful, innocent-looking friends can be. Most of the girls you’ve met, especially in your sorority, are as dick-motivated as your family's golden retriever had been food-motivated while you grew up.
Sometimes, the difference between you and your fellow female classmates can be jarring.
You grew up in a church-loving home, with the values of Christianity instilled in you for as long as you can remember. Becoming a second-year university student, and a virgin no less, has been a major adjustment from the Catholic school atmosphere you thrived in during your girlhood.
In fact, if your elder brother, Mark, hadn’t already been in this university, your parents never would have allowed you to enroll here. It’s far from your family, far from the small town where you grew up, and the adjustments you’ve had to make are palpable.
You follow Yeji and Yuna out past the gym where the football team trains, and through the glass windows looking into the area, your eyes are drawn to Johnny.
He’s in a red muscle shirt, the colour and emblem of your university as clear as day. Johnny is an all-American style quarterback, filled to the brim with school spirit, testosterone, and a cheeky, joking personality that draws all eyes to him regardless of the situation.
Goodness, he’s so attractive.
It makes your knees weak sometimes. It makes you question the way you were raised, the values you hold near and dear to your heart, regardless of how outdated they have clearly become.
“Don’t let him catch you looking,” Yeji snickers, elbowing you gently before looping her arm with your own. “You may be his frat brother’s little sister, but I don’t think Johnny cares about that.”
“What do you mean?” you ask, flustered.
“She means,” Yuna pipes in, “that if you’re interested in Johnny, he’d take you for a spin, and we all know how hard it would be for you to say no to him, even with your whole chastity vow thing.”
Your crush on Johnny is no secret amongst your best friends. They saw through you the very first game of the season, when your eyes were only drawn to the handsome quarterback.
You can’t help but sigh as you exit the gym area, and the three of you begin to walk back to your sorority house.
“I feel bad for you sometimes, babes,” Yeji muses, pulling you even closer to her side. “I understand you were raised with the whole ‘no sex until marriage’ thing, but that’s like… lowkey, extremely hard to do unless you’re… I don’t know, a Mormon or something.”
You chuckle a little at her words. “It’s definitely difficult.”
“But hey, you’re here now,” Yuna says. “Your family is far away. If you want to let loose a little, you can.”
“Yeah, it’s not like Mark would ever snitch on you, after all, he might have a reputation as being the ‘Good Little Christian Boy’ at his frat, but we all know he’s still not entirely perfect, especially when it comes to women.”
It’s true. While you’re not super close with your sorority sister, Ryujin, you know Mark is absolutely obsessed with her. They have something of a secret relationship going on, although you’re not entirely sure who it’s a secret to, given the fact that practically everyone in the Greek system knows they’re dating.
You suppose holding firm with chastity is no longer something that can be enforced on you, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered relaxing a little on the firm rules you were raised with.
Johnny being as sexy and charming as he is doesn’t make being a good, Christian, virgin girl easy, that’s for darn sure.
Two:
Although Yeji has an eye for athletes, she’s recently taken a liking toward your brother’s roommate, a frat boy by the name of Lee Donghyuck. He’s a film major and had caught Yeji’s eye when they shared a class last term.
They can both be fiery and mischievous, and you have to remind yourself to breathe every time you’re in a room with the two of them. The back and forths can get a little out of hand, but as you sit in your brother’s room with his friend Hyuck and Yeji, you remind yourself that you’re supporting a sister by being here, even if you don’t really have any ‘wing-woman’ duties.
Hyuck is a flirt, and he basks in the attention of both you and Yeji, leaning back on his bed with a knowing smirk after setting Yeji off into a rant about the best directors of the past decade.
“What do you think, Little Lee?” Hyuck asks, his gaze shifting to you. “Tarantino, Noland, or Anderson?”
“Huh?”
“Tarantino is the foot fetish guy, Noland is the war dude, and Anderson is the weird one who made that Asteroid alien movie with Scarlett Johansson,” Yeji explains.
You look blankly at the two of them. “Maybe I’m not the best person to have an opinion on this,” you say awkwardly.
As Hyuck opens his mouth to - most likely - grill you some more, the door to the room is pushed inward, and a familiar face looks inside.
“Oh, hey,” Johnny smiles, stepping into the space. “I didn’t realize you guys would be in here.”
“You looking for Mark?” Hyuck asks nonchalantly.
“As always,” the tall quarterback laughs, running a hand through his hair. He’s in a basic red t-shirt, but goodness, the way his biceps flex when he moves…
“Mark is with Ryujin tonight,” Hyuck says. “They’re not big partiers, and Ryujin’s sorority is empty right now since all the girls are here tonight.”
“I can see that,” Johnny grins, his eyes shifting from Yeji to you. “Hyuck’s not grilling you two that hard, is he?”
“They’re talking about war, toe, and alien movies,” you say, still not entirely sure what their conversation had been about just before Johnny arrived.
“War, toe, and alien movies,” Johnny chuckles.
“There’s more to it than that!” Hyuck insists.
The elder fratboy holds up a hand. “I’m sure there is, but I’m not getting roped into this.”
You can’t stop staring at Johnny, no matter how much you try to tear away your gaze. You can feel heat rising to your cheeks, embarrassment that he has such a hold over you.
There’s a friendliness between you and Johnny, but sometimes, you worry he will only ever see you as Mark’s little sister, despite what your friends think.
Three:
You’re in the gym, and if your heart hadn’t been racing enough already, your entire body reacts when Johnny shows up.
You do your best to focus on the stair master, to keep your breathing even, but your gaze continues to shift to the mirrors where you have a perfect view of the quarterback as he lifts free weights.
Drool keeps accumulating in your mouth with every bicep curl, and the heat that begins to surge through you isn’t due to the exercise. You can feel your panties getting wet from just the few glimpses you’ve had of this godlike man as he does his usual warm-up.
Johnny is just so beefy, but he’s lean too, a perfect physique if you’re being honest with yourself.
Just when you think the situation can’t get any sexier, another footballer shows up.
Jung Jaehyun is arguably just as attractive as Johnny, although they have different draws.
Where Johnny is masculine and rakishly charming, Jaehyun is a bit more on the pretty side, but his smile and dimples have won over more women than you can even count.
You wonder in what ways their differences would show up in another setting… say… the bedroom.
From what limited experience you have with sex, you draw on information you’ve gathered from fellow sorority sisters. They’ve talked at length about dominant men, about givers and takers, and you decide that Johnny might be more of a giver, and Jaehyun more of a taker.
Johnny probably wouldn’t even make you lift a finger, but if Yuna’s story about sucking Jaehyun off under the bleachers is to be believed, then perhaps he may prefer receiving.
It’s not something you judge Jaehyun on, to be sure, but as a virgin, part of you has always imagined your first time with a man being focused on you and not on him. Although perhaps there’s a selfishness in your own view of sex, so you’re careful not to throw a stone at Jaehyun from your glass house.
You wonder if Johnny is vocal in bed. He’s a quarterback and used to leading with authority and confidence. Would he be good at dirty talk? You’ve heard from your friends that many of these frat boy football players are kind of lame in the imagination department, that sex is often wordless and entirely physical… but as someone who has spent her entire life in her head and not her own body, you’ve started to realize that having a partner who talks to you and puts your mind at ease when you lose your virginity is something that would be important.
You’re not sure when you’ll fold and let your cherry be popped, but when it happens, you want to be able to enjoy it, and sweet talk can definitely diminish the anxiety you’ve become so prone to.
As you think about sex with Johnny, your core begins to throb, and with your annoyance, you decide to refill your water bottle. Some cold water is just what you need to reset, and as you stand by the fountain, the very man you’re trying not to think about appears beside you.
“Hey,” Johnny grins, turning to lean with his back against the wall so he can have a full view of both you and the gym. “How did you like the party the other night?”
“It was alright,” you say, forcing a smile even as your body heats to extreme temperatures at the fact that you’re in close proximity to your crush.
“So… toes, war, or aliens?” Johnny jokes.
You can’t help but laugh, finishing with your water bottle and screwing the cap on tight. “Still undecided. You?”
“Toes, definitely,” the quarterback scoffs as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world, and your stomach erupts in butterflies at the slightly suggestive undertones of his words. “So… Yeji and Haechan, huh?”
“You noticed that?”
He shrugs. “I notice what most of my younger frat brothers are up to; none of them are that good at hiding things.”
So he’s funny, extremely good-looking, and intelligent.
“However,” Johnny says nonchalantly, “you’re not as easy for me to read.”
“Oh?” You can’t look at him, so you avert your eyes as a flustered feeling surges through you.
“I would bet you don’t have much experience with men,” Johnny continues. “Not that you have to confirm it or anything.”
So he knows you're a virgin, or at least, he suspects it. You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing… but it shows he’s been thinking about you… So that must be a good sign, right?
“I wasn’t aware you were paying such close attention to me,” you stammer meekly.
“It’s hard not to. I’ve got a thing for cute girls, but I guess I’m not unique in that way.” Johnny lets out a chuckle, his aura confident and unbothered at the admittance that he’s interested in you.
You wonder what it’s like to be so sure of yourself, to have no fear about speaking your mind.
Your own lips part to respond, but no words come out, and your skin heats even more.
“Anyways, I just wanted to say hi,” Johnny smiles, pushing off from the wall. “I’ll see you around.”
“Okay,” you fumble out, still hardly able to meet his gaze.
You can tell from the grin on his face that he knows the effect he’s having on you, and with a wink, he goes back to the free weight section of the gym.
After a moment of awkwardly standing by the water fountain, you go and collect your things, too overwhelmed to continue your workout.
As you walk back to the sorority, you think about Johnny, about chastity, religion, and how viable it is to be a virgin until marriage in this day and age.
If there is ever a place to experiment, a university is the perfect location to find yourself, or so people say.
You’re not in church anymore; maybe it’s time to start enjoying your freedom.
Four:
As you settle in for bed, you notice your roommate isn’t here, and one quick text confirms she’s sleeping at a girlfriend’s place while they study for an exam. So, this is a semi-rare occasion where you have your space to yourself, and after the day you had at the gym and your run-in with Johnny, your skin is still hot in a way that a cold shower can’t fix.
You toss and turn, trying to get comfortable, but images of bulging biceps and Johnny’s sexy grin torment you every time you close your eyes.
With a loud groan, you sit up, heart thumping in your chest.
Yeji had told you once about ‘dirty audios’ on Reddit. She’d mentioned that if porn still feels too foreign and sinful, maybe audios could be a route you’d be interested in.
You’re at war with yourself, but soon, your horniness wins, and you grab your phone, doing a quick search. You’re not really sure what you’re looking for, but after a little bit of scrolling you realize “[M4F]” means male for female, as in, an audio made by a man for a woman listener. The audio posts have all sorts of other tags, things like “[Mdom]”, “[Slutty Mswitch]” and “[Msub]” which you quickly realize are there to help figure out the dynamic between the male in the audio and you as a listener.
You decide you want to find an “[Mdom]” audio, and finally, one post catches your eye.
[M4F] “I’ll talk you through it” with Your Guy Friend [soft Mdom] [Dirty Talk] [Masturbation] [Mutual Masturbation] [Voyeurism] [Whining] [Begging] [Not Touching You] [Obsession] [Push It In For Me] [Fingering] [Passionate].
With a deep breath, you open the post and press play on the audio.
“There’s nothing to be ashamed about,” comes an unfamiliar voice. “You know… lots of girls have uh… you know, not touched themselves… not been touched.”
Wow, it’s already feeling close to home, and it makes your skin tingle as you close your eyes, getting comfortable in bed. You try to imagine Johnny, and while the voice is clearly not his, you feel yourself begin to relax even amongst your embarrassment. Resorting to this kind of thing is not something you ever thought you’d be doing, but you’re just so horny…
“I could talk you through it if you want. Get it out of the way. Make you more comfortable. We can go slow to start, like, maybe touch your chest through your shirt.”
You swallow thickly, following the instructions. Your hands slowly glide up to your breasts, and you begin to massage yourself. Even through the fabric of your sleeping shirt, it feels good to be doing this, and there’s a spark of interest in your core at the realization that you enjoy following instructions.
“That’s it, Princess. Feels good, huh?” The man on the audio takes a shaky breath, and you can almost imagine Johnny reacting to you this way. “What if you try under the shirt now? Do you want to be a good girl for me and give it a go?”
Your body reacts before your mind can register it, your hands slipping under the fabric of your shirt as if they have a will of their own.
You stifle a whimper, brushing your hard nipples, your core throbbing already.
“Just like that. You look so fucking good for me, Princess. Do you… fuck, you’re so hot, do you mind if I touch myself too?”
You bite your lip at the thought of Johnny being so horny from the vision of you that he has to play with his own cock, and you wonder how big he is. Perhaps choosing a large man to lose your virginity to isn’t a good idea, after all, Yeji and Yuna have talked about dick size before, and how hard it can be to have sex with a ‘well-endowed’ man.
The man in the audio moans, and the sound makes you wet, sparking tingles through your whole body. You wonder how Johnny might sound when he moans, and a shiver runs through you at the thought.
“Your hands can go lower. Actually. Fuck this, I want to see you touch yourself, properly. I know I said I’d go slow, and if this is too fast… fuck, I just, I want to see you. You can do that for me, right, Princess?”
You release your breast, pushing your hand between your thighs, rubbing yourself through your sleeping shorts and holding back a whimper.
“Fuck, just like that. Rub your clit for me.”
It’s a foreign sensation, but it makes your toes curl.
“Imagine it’s me touching you, Princess, my hands are so much bigger than yours.”
God, Johnny’s hands are rather large, you’ve seen how they look on a proper sized football.
“Keep going, I bet you’re so sensitive, I bet you can cum just from this, huh? I want you to cum from your pretty fingers on your clit.”
Your muscles begin to strain, an unfamiliar feeling building in the pit of your stomach. But now is not the time to stop, if anything, you unconsciously apply more pressure, chasing the fantasy of an orgasm.
The man on the audio continues to dirty talk, but by now, your mind is completely fixated on Johnny, on the way he looks with sweat dripping off his brow, a grin on his lips after a successful game of football-
Before you can even think, your core clamps down on nothing, waves of euphoria tearing through you and ripping your breath away.
You pull back from your core, the pleasure almost too much to handle as you writhe against the bed, fighting back the sounds that threaten to tumble out of you.
You’re gasping, mind and body numb even as the audio continues. But you don’t need any more, you don’t want the rest of the audio, you just want to calm down a bit and sort out how you’re going to make this fantasy with Johnny into a reality.
Five:
It’s been two weeks since your run-in with Johnny in the gym, two weeks of you lusting and considering options. Tonight, you’re at a party in Johnny’s frat, and you have a determination coursing through you like never before.
“I can’t believe you’re finally doing this,” Yeji grins as she and Yuna help you search the house for the tall quarterback.
“And with Johnny,” Yuna pipes in.
“He still has to say yes to my proposal,” you point out.
“Your sexual proposition,” Yeji teases, jutting her sharp elbow into your side with a wink.
“Of course he’ll say yes,” Yuna huffs as you finish searching the entire first floor, where the party is raging. “He’s interested in her too; he made that clear.”
The three of you have spent many nights going over your gym conversation with Johnny, dissecting all the meanings behind what he said about liking ‘cute girls.’
The anxious part of you had tried to excuse his words, but Yuna, ever the realist, had drilled into you that Johnny had been shooting his shot. She’d mused that he was probably being careful not to be too overbearing, as he’d acknowledged your lack of experience in the dating sector.
“Where is he, though?” Yeji groans. “I haven’t seen Hyuck or Johnny.”
“I’ve got my eye out for Yuta,” Yuna muses.
“Since when?” Yeji laughs. “Haven’t you always liked Jaehyun?”
“Meh.” Yuna shrugs casually, flipping her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “I’ve decided after watching the budding sexual liberation of our good Christian girl that maybe I should be a little freakier too.”
“Well, Yuta’s definitely the man to go for if you want freaky,” Yeji grins.
“I think they’re probably in their rooms,” you note, still focused on your task. “We should all split up.”
“You don’t need girl support?” Yuna questions.
“I think I’ll be okay.”
The three of you nod to each other, and with that, you hurry up the stairs to the top floor, where Johnny’s room is.
You find his door open, and when you peek inside, you see Johnny standing there, looking down at his phone. With a deep breath, you step inside.
“Hi,” you say shyly, your confidence dissipating now that you’re in the same room as your crush.
“Oh,” Johnny looks up at you, a grin immediately appearing on his face. “Hi, Princess, I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”
“No? Why not?” You slowly close the door behind yourself, leaning back against it.
He shrugs. “Kind of figured I scared you away, haven’t seen you since the gym two weeks ago.”
“I’ve just been busy,” you tell him, skin heating.
In truth, you have been kind of avoiding him. You’ve been experimenting more with dirty audios, and you haven’t felt ready to face the man behind your fantasies… but now you are. Now you’re more ready than you ever have been in your entire life.
“So… what can I do for you?” Johnny asks, slipping his phone into his back pocket.
“Well,” you release a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said at the gym. About how it’s clear I don’t have much experience with men, and how you like cute girls-”
“How I pay attention to you because you’re a cute girl,” Johnny corrects with a grin.
You can feel yourself getting flustered, and you look away from Johnny, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah, well… I guess, I guess I was thinking maybe… maybe since I’m in university, I should experiment a little.”
“Experiment?” Johnny cocks a brow.
You nod, skin now burning hot. “I was wondering… if maybe… maybe you would kiss me?”
Johnny takes a step forward, and you back against the door, body reacting out of the fear you’ve held your whole life in regard to the negatives of not being abstinent.
He slowly takes your hand, and you force yourself to look up at him.
“Have you ever been kissed, Princess?” he asks softly.
You nod. “Once, at Christian summer camp.”
“You’ve only ever been kissed just once?” Johnny lets out a shocked laugh. “You know, Mark has told us about your family, about the rules and the chastity that was instilled in you since you were young. Are you sure you want me to kiss you? I wouldn’t want to be…” he moves even closer, his voice lowering, “stealing your innocence.”
You can feel your mind going fuzzy at the close proximity to your ultimate crush, the man you’ve been dreaming about for weeks.
“I want you to steal my innocence,” you whisper dumbly, echoing his words without a second thought.
He looks into your eyes, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek.
Your lips part unconsciously, your entire body frozen as you wait for Johnny to choose what happens next.
“We can go slow,” Johnny assures you. “I’ll take care of you. After all, it’s just a kiss.”
“It’s just a kiss,” you repeat, realizing that your whole sexual proposition plan has somehow boiled down to ‘just a kiss’ and not the entire action of intercourse.
But you’re not complaining, especially not when he slowly closes the gap between your lips.
Your eye lids flutter closed at the contact, your breath catching. Johnny gently grabs your waist with his free hand, tugging you closer to his large body and making you let out a squeak.
He grins into the kiss, gently suckling your lower lip into his mouth.
Your entire body feels like it’s buzzing, and after not knowing what to do with your hands, you force yourself to relax, your palms making contact with his shoulders as you attempt to pull him even tighter against your aching form.
Johnny complies, and the kiss deepens, his lips moving against yours in a way that you somehow instinctively react to. Your mouth parts a little more, and his tongue gently explores your own, making you whimper desperately, clinging to the tall quarterback.
You can already feel how turned on your body is, your panties getting wetter by the second-
Someone knocks on the door right behind you and you tug away from Johnny, fear at being found out in your most vulnerable state surges through you.
Johnny lets out a sigh of annoyance, keeping his arm wrapped around you like a protective shield. “Who is it?” he calls.
“Come drink with us!” someone shouts, and Johnny shakes his head at the interruption.
“In a minute!” he responds. Then his attention shifts down to you. “You know, I couldn’t tell you’d only ever kissed one other guy.”
“Huh?”
“You’re a natural,” Johnny grins, gently pinching your chin and tilting your head up so he can press his lips to yours again.
Your body melts in response, knees feeling weak, and another small whimper slips out of you.
Johnny lets out a growl, and you can tell it takes effort for him to tear himself away from you. “We should continue this another time,” he tells you. “You know, if you’re interested in more than just kissing. I meant it when I said I’d take care of you.”
“I-” your throat feels like it’s closing, and you have to swallow thickly just to collect yourself. “I would like that.”
“Give me your number, Princess,” he instructs, and as soon as he’s pulled his phone out of his pocket, you blurt out the digits, skin hot, heart racing. “I’ll text you,” Johnny promises, leaning down to press one more kiss against your lips. “But tonight, you should just enjoy the party.”
You understand he probably doesn’t want your first time to be in the middle of a frat rager, and you can admit to yourself that there’s definitely something lack luster about this atmosphere for a cherry pop.
But try as you might, as you and Johnny head down to join the festivities, your soaked panties are a constant reminder of the taste of pleasure you’d received from Johnny. And if you’d thought you’d been horny listening to those NSFW audios on Reddit, well, this is a hundred times more intense than that.
Six:
Coordinating with Johnny has felt scandalous, but it’s also felt calming in some ways. He’s extremely aware of your situation, aware of helping you explore your sexual fantasies in a safe environment. While he has his own room in the frat due to his standing, Johnny knows it would be awkward for you to show up and run into Hyuck, Jaehyun, or - God forbid - your own brother on your way in or out of his room.
After discussing schedules, Johnny selects a time where the frat is most empty, and with a racing heart and shaky knees, you make your way over to see the Quarterback.
He meets you on the front porch of the frat, and with a soft kiss on your cheek to say ‘Hello,’ he takes your hand and leads you through the deserted house. You can’t believe your luck in making it up to his room without running into a single other person, and you breathe a sigh of relief as he locks the door behind you.
“So, I’m going to be honest, if drinks or a party aren’t involved, initiating a kiss can be awkward, which is why I can lead all of this until you want otherwise,” Johnny tells you. “If you feel shy or anything, just remind yourself that I’m here to help you, and I’m not the judgmental type.”
“Okay,” you nod, swallowing thickly.
“Now that that’s out of the way…” Johnny flashes a grin, and then he grabs you by your hips and tugs you to his chest. His lips press against yours, and as you had the first time you’d kissed him, you allow your body to naturally relax against his, to follow his lead and trust that Johnny wouldn’t guide you astray.
You love the way your body lights up when he touches you. His palm is warm against the small of your back, keeping you pressed to his broad chest. His other hand is cupping your cheek, which makes this whole situation quite intimate as opposed to being just a proposition to lose your virginity.
And the way he kisses you takes your breath away. He’s not forceful, but he’s in control. You can tell he’s used to being lead, and you’d be lying if you said your natural inclination isn’t to be submissive.
This is just so easy, and your mind starts to relax the way your body is.
You remind yourself that Johnny doesn’t judge. And from the way he groans as he tugs you toward the bed, you know he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.
“We don’t have to go fast,” Johnny breathes heavily when he breaks the kiss to sit onto his bed, looking up at you with blown pupils. His hands slide down to the back of your thighs, and he guides you to get on top of him.
You’re a bit clumsy, but his strong embrace helps you get settled on top of him, and he helps move your hands to his shoulders for a stronger anchor.
“Just like that,” Johnny tells you, grabbing the back of your neck to draw your lips to his again.
You slowly get more comfortable, sitting down in his lap, and that’s when you notice something poking you.
You break the kiss to look down and realize he’s already hard, and a shiver runs through you.
“I guess I should probably ask,” Johnny muses as his lips find your throat, one of his hands gripping your thigh, “how much experience do you have with this sort of thing?”
“None,” you admit.
“So one chaste kiss at Christian summer camp…” He lets out a groan. “Have you ever watched porn?”
“I saw… I saw one video once.”
“One video once,” he repeats with a chuckle. “You’re so innocent, Princess.”
Your skin heats at his words. “I’ve also… I’ve listened to sex audios,” you admit, embaressment flooding through you.
“Sex audios?”
“Yeah.”
“Explain those to me.”
He licks at your throat and you bite your lip to stop a moan, throwing your head back and tightening your grip on his shoulders.
“Well,” you swallow thickly. “It’s just an audio of uh… some guy in different situations.”
“Does he tell you how to cum?”
“Sometimes,” you whimper when Johnny finds a spot on your throat that has your core practically throbbing.
“What audios are your favourites?” He’s massaging higher on your thigh now, and the close proximity to where you need him most makes your mind fuzzy, but you’re determined to answer his questions.
“I like praise audio, and when… when the man is dominant,” you admit.
“Dominant?”
“Yes, Sir,” you whimper before you can help yourself, thinking back to an audio you’d listened to two days ago with the tag [Sir Dom].
“Fuck,” Johnny groans, squeezing your thigh again. “I can work with that.”
He draws your lips to his again, and you wriggle down against him, pleasure shooting through you when your clothed clit brushes the hard bump in his sweatpants.
“Does that feel good, Princess?” Johnny asks, cupping your face and breaking the kiss to look at you. “You look so good grinding down against me.”
You can only whimper, nodding desperately as you wiggle harder against his lap.
“I promised we could take this slow, and I meant it,” Johnny swallows thickly. “How about you let me work you up? You trust me, right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And if you ever want me to slow down, or stop, you’ll be a good girl and tell me, yeah?”
“Of course,” you breathe, body tensing as the hand on your leg gets even closer to where you need him most, his thumb stroking small circles against your inner thigh teasingly.
“Perfect.” Johnny’s hands slide to your ass, and he stands up abruptly, keeping you close to his chest while you grab at his shoulders in shock.
In one quick motion, he sets you onto the bed, and you look up at him.
“I’m going to take your pants off, Princess,” Johnny explains, fingers finding your buttons even as he leans closer to tease his lips against your own.
You thread your fingers through his hair, kissing him desperately as he carefully undoes your jeans, and then, your breath catches as he slowly tugs them down your legs.
The air of the room feels cold against your now bare skin, and Johnny stops, looking down at you.
“Shirt next,” he instructs, and rather than wait for him to do it himself, you simply tug the fabric off, leaving you in your bra and underwear. “So good for me,” Johnny groans. “I’ll try to go slow.”
He joins you on the bed, slotting between your thighs which instinctively wrap around his hips, and then he kisses you. It’s a passionate kiss, the type of kiss that sends waves of erotic pleasure through you, especially when one of his hands grabs your breast, massaging you through your bra.
You’re breathless when his lips move down to your throat, and as he slowly descends, you thread your fingers through his hair, gasping. He kisses the swell of your breasts, moaning, and it makes your core pulse with desire.
“Can I take this off of you, Princess?” he asks, teeth nipping at the only piece of fabric keeping him from your aching nipples.
“Yes, Sir,” you whine, struggling a little beneath him from how desperately you want him to keep going.
Johnny reaches beneath you, and you arch your back, making it all too easy for him to unclasp your bra.
A moment later, your breasts are exposed, nipples pebbled and aching with anticipation.
“You’re so pretty,” Johnny groans, massaging you as his breath teases your skin.
His thumb brushes your sensitive bud and you can’t help but moan, pushing your chest up against his hand.
“So reactive for me,” Johnny tells you, leaning down and kissing your nipple.
The sensation has your core pulsating with desire, and you grab at the bed sheets, overwhelmed with pleasure.
“I feel like I could make you cum just from playing with your chest,” Johnny notes with a chuckle. “A girl who’s never been touched… let’s see if it works.”
He puts his mouth on your nipple again, sucking harder while his hand plays with your other breast.
You let out a strangled moan, your entire body reacting.
You know what an orgasm is now, after all, the audios you’ve listened to have helped you discover that much. Your muscles are already tensing, and your heart is racing in your chest.
You didn’t know a woman could cum from just chest play, but here you are, almost unraveled for Johnny as he worships your breasts.
His teeth skim your sensitive bud and you gasp loudly. The sensation of your soaked panties pressing against your core has your mind spinning, and a few more licks have you coming undone.
You let out a loud gasp, threading your fingers through Johnny’s hair and pulling his lips back to yours as waves of pleasure throb through you.
It’s the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, but you guess your own touch pales in comparison to Johnny’s.
He groans, kissing you roughly as your high washes through your body, and when you slowly start to come down, you break the kiss to take gasps of air.
“That was almost too easy, Princess,” Johnny chuckles. “Can’t imagine how you’re going to react when I touch you where you need it most.”
One of his hands slips between your thighs, and he gently rubs your clit through your panties, making your entire body jolt.
“Fuck, I’m going to enjoy this,” he groans, as he begins to kiss down your body.
You can hardly think coherent thoughts when Johnny slips down to the floor. He hooks his fingers in your panties, pausing to look up at you. “You still want this?” he asks.
“Yes, Sir,” you nod, your entire body buzzing with anticipation.
“Good.”
You hold your breath, biting your lip as he slowly drags your panties down your legs.
It’s the first time you’ve ever been naked in front of a man like this, and you watch his reactions, desperate for praise, to know he likes what he sees.
Johnny releases a shaky breath. “Have I ever told you that you’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen?”
“Huh?”
“I swear to God, if you weren’t a Lee, I would have tried to make this happen ages ago.” Johnny runs a hand through his hair. “We generally have a rule in the frat not to go for each other’s sisters, but fuck, you’ve made this so hard.”
“You’ve really liked me for a long time?” you ask in shock.
“Since the very first day you showed up on the field at a game as a cheerleader. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you… and then, Jaehyun mentioned you’re Mark’s sister, so I backed off before I even had a chance to start.”
“Let’s not talk about Mark,” you say shyly, feeling yourself pulled out of your lust at the mention of your brother.
“Yeah, sorry.” Johnny swallows a lump in his throat. “Tell me more about the sex audios you listen to.”
“Well…” You feel your skin flush again at the mention of your secret sin. “They just talk the listener through different scenarios. It’s been… educational.”
Johnny begins kissing up your thigh, adjusting your leg over his shoulder. “Educational?” he laughs. “What do you think about when you listen to them?”
“I think about you,” you admit.
“Oh?” His face is now directly in front of your core, and you can feel his breath. Your whole body tingles, and you nod shyly.
“I imagine it’s you doing those things to me instead of just some audio.”
“Would it be embarrassing for you if I told you I’ve been thinking about you a lot, too?” Johnny smirks, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your clit that makes you jolt.
“When… when you touch yourself?” you ask, the words feeling so foreign on your tongue.
“Especially when I touch myself.” He languidly licks at your clit, and the sensation makes you clench your eyes shut with pleasure, thighs quaking. “Been thinking about tasting you, about making you cum.”
“And?” you squeak.
“And it’s going exactly the way I imagined it.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It’s a great thing.” The large hands holding your thighs on his shoulders move, and he presses down on your hips. “I’m going to eat you out now, and I’ll anchor you to the bed, but if it becomes too much, just push at my hands, and I’ll back off.”
“Why would you need to-” you begin to ask, but then he puts his mouth fully on your core, and your hips buck up instinctively. “Anchor me…” You trail off, gripping the bed sheets again.
Every time Johnny does something to you, you think it will be the pinnacle of pleasure when it comes to sex, but every single time, this beautiful man brings you to new heights.
You throw your head back, loving the way his tongue feels as it prods your opening, his lips moving to suck around your clit deliciously.
And then… he begins to groan, like a man licking his favourite ice cream, and your entire body comes alive with dangerous pleasure.
“Oh my God,” you whimper, the vibrations from his sounds surging through you.
You have no experience with oral, but you think Johnny must be absolutely amazing at it if this is anything to go by.
Yeji and Yuna have often complained that men they’ve slept with don’t even bother to eat them out, so you consider yourself extremely lucky that Johnny is taking his time with you, that he’s showing you all that sex has to offer.
You can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and your sounds are sure to reflect it, as Johnny increases the pressure of his tongue on your clit. He’s groaning deeply now, wordlessly encouraging you to let go for him, and you’ll be damned if you disappoint.
In no time at all, your second orgasm washes through you, and it’s even stronger than the last. The pulsating pleasure that surges from your core to your entire body is mind boggling, and you can feel tears of ecstasy brimming in your eyes. You writhe against the bed, unwilling to push his hands away from anchoring you.
You want everything he’s giving you, even if it’s a lot to handle.
Soon, Johnny pulls away on his own accord, and you slump down to the bed, breathless and whimpering.
“Fuck, Princess,” Johnny groans, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I didn’t realize overstimulation was a kink of yours too.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
“God, you’re so fucking cute,” Johnny chuckles. “Overstimulation is when you let someone give you so much pleasure that you almost can’t even handle it.” Johnny leans over you, his hand cupping your cheek. A warm thumb brushes by your skin. “Look, Princess, you’re crying.”
“It just felt so good,” you choke out, flooded with emotions.
Had you really held yourself back from this type of pleasure for all of these years?
You can hardly believe it.
“Come here,” Johnny says, tilting your jaw so you can press your lips to his.
He gets on top of you, wrapping you in his warm embrace as you kiss away the last traces of your high.
Soon, you’re moaning again, and Johnny takes this as a cue to massage your breast. Everything he does feels so good, and you love getting lost in him.
You trust him so completely, which you’re aware may be naive of you, but Johnny’s never given you a reason to doubt him for even one second.
Then one of his hands begins to descend, and he rubs your wet core, making you both groan.
“Such a wet Princess,” Johnny says, his lips moving to your throat.
“Wet for you,” you say quietly, having learned a few lines from your Reddit audios.
The quarterback lets out a chuckle as he rubs your core. “Do you want to feel me inside? I have to stretch you out if you want the real deal.”
You consider his words. “Stretch me out?”
“You know, for my cock.”
“Is it very big?” you ask, skin heating.
“Why don’t you tell me?” he prompts, and you can feel him grinning against your throat.
With a shaky hand, you move to cup the front of his sweatpants, and a whimper escapes you at the massive appendage that pushes up against your palm.
“You’re very big,” you confirm.
“Biggest you’ve ever touched,” he jokes, pushing the tip of his finger into your core and making you mewl. “Although, I’m also the only you’ve ever touched.”
“I bet…” you groan as he pushes his digit deeper inside of you, “even if I had touched others, you’d still be the biggest.”
“Now you’re just stroking my ego,” Johnny grins.
“I think… I think I’m stroking something else too.” You rub him harder through his sweats, and Johnny moans deeply.
“How are you still so cute while talking dirty?”
“It’s a superpower,” you tease, but a whimper escapes you when he adjusts his finger, making a come hither motion.
“As much as I love you touching me, I want to focus on you a bit more,” Johnny groans, sitting up and pushing your hand away from his cock. “How does one finger feel?”
He continues the come hither motion, and suddenly he makes contact with a spot inside of you that has your toes curling.
“Oh my goodness, it feels so good,” you groan, gripping the sheets again.
“This is your G-spot,” Johnny explains. “If I apply enough pressure to it…”
He continues to finger fuck you, and a moment later, your core begins to audibly squelch.
Heat blossoms through you at the sound, and you move to close your thighs out of embarrassment, but Johnny gently spreads them with a laugh.
“Don’t be shy, Princess,” he says, licking his lips. “This is one of the best sounds in the world.”
“It is?”
“Yeah, I like to know that I’m making you feel good. People lie, but your pussy doesn’t.”
He can be kind of vulgar, but it makes you relax as you spread your legs fully again, resting back against the bed.
Johnny takes the opportunity to push another finger inside of you, and you whine at the slight stretch.
You focus on the sensation, on the pleasure boiling in the pit of your stomach. And then Johnny adjusts, moving down once more. You feel his breath against your core, and when his mouth makes contact with your clit, you jolt.
You’ve never felt anything like this.
Two powerful fingers stroke your g-spot while he suctions your clit in his mouth, lapping and sucking-
Your orgasm is so close now, and you moan desperately, writhing against the bed.
His free hand presses to your abdomen, keeping you pinned as you teeter on the edge.
When you cum, it’s unlike any other orgasm you’ve had.
It’s an intense pressure that releases like a storm surge. You feel delirious as the waves rock through your entire body, overtaking all of your senses and clouding your mind.
In the back of your mind, you hear Johnny groaning, and it makes you throb even harder, your muscles twitching from the intensity of your high.
The hand on your abdomen keeps you grounded, even as the pleasure threatens to become too much for you to handle, and a few moments later, Johnny pulls away.
You gasp, trying to steady your breath, but your heart is racing so fast that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to catch it.
“Holy shit, Princess,” Johnny says. “I’ve never seen anyone squirt like that.”
“Huh?” Your eyes open, and you look at Johnny, which is when you realize there’s a liquid substance dripping down his hand and strong forearm.
“You squirted, it’s like a different kind of orgasm,” Johnny explains, bringing his cum coated fingers to his lips so he can suck them off.
“I didn’t know that was possible,” you tell him, feeling embarrassed.
“Some girls never experience it,” he tells you. “That was hot as fuck.”
You hide your face in your hands, feeling both elated, and still a touch apprehensive about your body losing control in such a way.
“I’ll clean up the mess later, so don’t worry about that, but how did two fingers feel?” Johnny asks.
“So good,” you whimper, core twitching.
“Do you still want to go all the way tonight? We can stop here if you’re not comfortable.”
“I want to!” you blurt out. “I want to, so bad.”
Johnny chuckles. “You got it, Princess.”
He gets off the bed, standing up, and you marvel at the way he towers over you. Then, Johnny reaches for the scruff of his shirt, tugging it off of his body in one motion.
You eat up the view of his muscles, and you swallow the lump of saliva that accumulates in your mouth. He truly is mouth watering, and your breath catches as his hands find the waistband of his sweatpants.
Johnny flashes you a wink before tugging the rest of his clothing off, and then he stands before you, completely naked, and as perfect as you ever could have imagined.
“Oh my gosh,” you whimper, skin heating with embarrassment when you take a good look at his massive cock.
Johnny chuckles at your reaction. “You can still say no.”
“Can… can that really fit inside of me?”
“Princess, we’ll make it fit if you still want this.”
“Then let’s make it fit,” you tell him, trying to sound confident.
Johnny grins, shaking his head at you while he reaches for his bedside table. You watch with confusion as he pulls out a small package, and you realize as he opens it that it’s a condom.
“I’m guessing you’re not on any kind of birth control?” he asks.
“No.”
“I’m happy to wear a condom,” he explains. “And if you want to keep seeing me after this, I’ll still wear one, but we can also discuss birth control or other things if you want.”
“If I want to keep seeing you?” You blink at him.
For the first time ever, you see a tinge of pink blossom in Johnny’s cheeks, and you realize he’s blushing.
“Yeah, I mean, I want to keep seeing you. I never viewed this as a ‘one time cherry popping’ kind of thing… but if that’s all you want from me, I won’t hold it against you.”
“Johnny?” you ask, sitting up. “Are you… are you asking me to continue seeing you? Like… dating?”
“I’d love to take you on dates,” he confirms. “I want to keep seeing you, for more than the sex. Which is great, by the way.”
You hide your face, overcome by shyness.
Can it really be that all of your dreams are coming true?
You’d half expected this to be a one time thing, and were prepared to face any heartache that came with it. You were not prepared for Johnny to tell you he wants to date you.
“I’d love to go on dates with you,” you manage to stutter.
“Perfect, so we’re on the same page.” Johnny gets onto the bed with you, and you wrap your legs around his hips, tugging him in for a kiss to distract from the shyness still bubbling through you.
The kiss is more passionate than ever, and Johnny grinds down against you, his condom covered cock teasing your clit and making you shiver.
You feel yourself relaxing again, pushing your fears to the side, allowing Johnny to lead as he works you up again.
“Okay,” he says, after a minute or so of making out, “I’m going to try to push it in.”
“Okay.”
“Try to breathe and not tense up, okay?” he asks, kissing your throat.
“I’ll do my best.”
Johnny grabs the base of his cock, directing the head toward your drenched hole.
He’s extremely gentle as he pushes slightly into you, and your breath catches. He nuzzles your throat, pressing soft kisses that you know are meant to distract you as your body gets used to being stretched out by his huge cock.
You let out a sigh, relaxing your tight grip on his shoulders. “Okay, I think I’m ready for more.”
He pushes in another inch or two, pausing to let your inner walls adjust to such a large intrusion.
It goes this way for a short time, slight pushes, small breaks, adoration filled kisses, and soon, he’s almost fully inside of you.
“How’s this?” he asks.
“Tight,” you admit with a small laugh, your core gripping him even more desperately with the contraction of your muscles.
“Fuck,” Johnny groans. “You can say that again… I’m going to move a little now, if it hurts, tell me to stop.”
“Yes, Sir,” you whimper, feeling yourself begin to fall into what Yeji and Yuna have sometimes called ‘the submissive mindframe,’ wherein you feel like a pleasure fueled jelly that’s ready to take anything and everything your partner wants to give you.
Johnny is slow as he begins to move, and you marvel at the way your squirt soaked core allows him such smooth thrusts. The dragging of his cock along your inner walls feels like magic, and your body relaxes. The pleasure is a welcome distraction from the stretch of his cock in your tight pussy, and as his pace increases, so do your moans.
“Oh my gosh,” you whimper, clutching at his shoulders and crying out desperately.
“Fuck, you feel so good for me,” Johnny groans, his breath hot against your throat where he buries his head.
“Johnny,” you gasp, too lust drunk to think coherently as he bottoms out fully inside of you, making you both groan, your fingernails digging into his strong shoulders.
“Just like that, Princess, just like that,” he tells you, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against your neck.
Your eyes roll back into your head, your entire body overwhelmed by the feeling.
Nothing in your life has ever felt this good, and you can’t believe you held yourself back from such pleasure.
In a way, the repetitive sound of Johnny’s name that echoes through your mind feels like prayer, and you know it’s blasphemy, but you can’t help the way that this is akin to worship.
Johnny is worshipping you, and you are worshipping him.
Two bodies, perfectly in sync, giving each other everything they have- it’s the most perfect and natural union, and you can’t imagine this being a sin.
Johnny hikes your thigh higher on his hip, and suddenly, he’s hitting even deeper spots. You cry out, clinging to him as your entire body is engulfed with hot pleasure.
“Fuck, I think I’m close, Princess, this is just too good,” Johnny admits.
“I’m close too,” you gasp, core tightening around him like a vice, your muscles screaming at you for release.
“I want to cum with you, I’ll hold off, but when you cum- fuck, when you cum, we cum together, okay?”
“Yes, Sir,” you whimper desperately, a feeling like flames licking at you from your core outward.
“Just like that, Princess, you’re doing so fucking well,” he praises you, and his words make your entire body tingle with delight.
“Johnny-” you gasp, teetering on the edge.
“Cum for me, fuck, cum for me, Princess.”
You let out a squeak as your orgasm slams into you, your entire pussy clamping down on his cock. The pleasure radiates through you in hot, throbbing waves, and you cling to Johnny like a life line.
He releases a deep groan, his thrusts faltering, and you think he’s cum too, which sends another flash of pleasure through you.
Johnny does his best to ride you through your high, but soon, he comes to a stop, slumping over you and breathing heavily.
You wrap your arms around him, marveling in the way your hearts race, chests pressed together like two puzzle pieces.
You’re not sure how long you hold him, how long you both try to recollect yourselves, but soon, Johnny lets out a groan, and he pulls out of you, falling on the bed at your side.
“Come here,” he says, tugging you to his body, cuddling you close while you still try to overcome such a mind numbing orgasm.
You listen to the fast drum of his heart, neither of you saying a word as you bask in post orgasmic glow.
Without knowing it, you drift off, and when you wake up, it’s dark outside. Johnny is stroking your arm, and he looks down at you when you adjust slightly.
“Hi, Princess.”
“Hi, Johnny.”
He swallows thickly. “I want to do right by you,” he explains. “I want to take you on dates, and pamper you, and do all of the things you deserve.”
“But?” you ask, sensing there’s a but somewhere in his words.
“But…” Johnny chuckles. “If you want to stay the night, I’d also be good with that. We don’t have to have sex again, but… even just cuddling. I just want to take care of you.”
That works well, because your whole life, you’ve just wanted to be taken care of.
“I’d like to stay,” you tell him.
In the dim light, you see Johnny grin. “That makes me happy.”
You smile, cuddling closer to his side. “It makes me happy, too.”
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Spring has sprung and it just felt like a good time for another trusty nct frat fic :)
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🔮 preview. Being pushed and pulled makes you feel like a slutty chew toy, but God, it’s amazing. With Jaehyun behind you and Johnny under you, all of your needs are being met, so there’s nothing to do except enjoy it. You take what they’re giving you, and you’re thankful your boyfriend suggested that you get to try a threesome just once before getting engaged.
cw/ tw. Threesome, protected sex, unprotected sex, foreplay, oral (f recieving), body worship, breast worship, fingering, anal, anal prep, mention of sex toy, double penetration, anal penetration, manhandling, dirty talk, power play, soft dom!Johnny, voyeurism, exhibitionism, multiple reader orgasms, creampie, etc… I petnames. (hers) princess.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.4k I teaser wc. 140
🌙 starring. Johnny & Jaehyun x afab!Reader
bonus
You’ve been with Johnny for two years now, and it’s the final term before he graduates. In those two years, you have explored so many things with Johnny, and he’s allowed you to fully get to know yourself and your body in a safe, loving relationship.
Even so, Johnny knows there’s a few things you haven’t yet tried, and you’ve had many discussions about the fact that he intends to ask you to marry him after he graduates and finds a job, that the two of you want to be together for the rest of your lives.
“I just… and I can’t believe I’m saying this, Princess,” Johnny laughs one night as you cuddle in bed. “I’m the only man you’ve ever slept with, and I think it would be unfair of me to restrict you like that.”
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read this as soon as i woke up like it’s the morning paper 😋
I REALLY LOVE SOFTDOM JOHNNY T____T and i missed fratboy johnny!! i’m so glad u decided to come back to ur roots because this is so good 🥹
i have decided to soend the rest of my day rereading ur frat series 😋😋😋
and it’s so funny to me, i clocked it halfway that there’d be a threesome with jaehyun either here or the special part because i’ve been a long-time smileysuh enjoyer 🤣 smileysuh fic(s) is for the johnjae and gyucheol girlies ME, and only the girls who get it, get it
yes, sir - TEASER
🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You wonder if Johnny is vocal in bed. He’s a quarterback and used to leading with authority and confidence. Would he be good at dirty talk? You’ve heard from your friends that many of these frat boy football players are kind of lame in the imagination department, that sex is often wordless and entirely physical… but as someone who has spent her entire life in her head and not her own body, you’ve started to realize that having a partner who talks to you and puts your mind at ease when you lose your virginity is something that would be important.
tw/cw. Virgin!reader, loss of virginity, masturbation, mentions of porn, reddit sex audios, sex proposition, heavy foreplay, oral, fingering, squirt, multiple reader orgasms, protected sex, huge dick!Johnny, ‘we’ll make it fit’, pussy stretching, mutual orgasms, praise, dirty talk, slight sir kink, soft dom!Johnny, body worship, breast worship, slight religious themes, etc… I pet names: (hers) Princess.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k
🍭 aus. Non idol au, frat au, brother’s best friend, virgin reader, football player!Johnny, Cheerleader!Y/N, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. So the smut scene is 4.8k, which is one of the longest I’ve ever written, but I wanted to go back to my frat roots and do a virgin reader with a soft dom who ensures she has the perfect first time, you know, something you can only find in fanfic ;)
“So… what can I do for you?” Johnny asks, slipping his phone into his back pocket.
“Well,” you release a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said at the gym. About how it’s clear I don’t have much experience with men, and how you like cute girls-”
“How I pay attention to you because you’re a cute girl,” Johnny corrects with a grin.
You can feel yourself getting flustered, and you look away from Johnny, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah, well… I guess, I guess I was thinking maybe… maybe since I’m in university, I should experiment a little.”
“Experiment?” Johnny cocks a brow.
You nod, skin now burning hot. “I was wondering… if maybe… maybe you would kiss me?”
Johnny takes a step forward, and you back against the door, body reacting out of the fear you’ve held your whole life in regard to the negatives of not being abstinent.
He slowly takes your hand, and you force yourself to look up at him.
“Have you ever been kissed, Princess?” he asks softly.
You nod. “Once, at Christian summer camp.”
“You’ve only ever been kissed just once?” Johnny lets out a shocked laugh. “You know, Mark has told us about your family, about the rules and the chastity that was instilled in you since you were young. Are you sure you want me to kiss you? I wouldn’t want to be…” he moves even closer, his voice lowering, “stealing your innocence.”
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FRATBOY JOHNNY IS BACK OHMYGOSHHHHHHHH I’M SEATED!!!!
taboo alphas - TEASER
🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu & Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “We will need a bunch of natural oil humidifiers to help mask your scent, I’m thinking pine or cedar or something, as well as a heavy blanket for the crack under the door,” your new omega pack mate explains. “We’ll need some speakers to play music so Mingyu and Seungcheol can’t hear you very well either. We don’t want them being triggered by your scent and sounds while you’re in here fighting with a sex toy for your life and sanity. Your first heat with your new pack is going to be rough, but you’ll get through it, I promise.”
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, threesome, omega in heat, alphas helping during heat, use of sex toys, extreme sexual frustration, oral, pussy eating, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, hand job, breast worship, body worship, man handling, etc… I pet names: (hers.) dirty little omega.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.8k
🍭 aus. Werewolf!au, Alpha!GyuCheol, Omega!reader, arranged marriage situation, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I’ve been meaning to do this duo for a while, but ABO is the type of au that takes time due to the extensive back history you have to create- this is the product of two months of thinking and working, and I hope you all enjoy it :) who knew so much work could go into a threesome haha.
Mingyu watches Seungcheol pace the room. Two days of your heat have passed, and there are likely five more to go. It’s too early for Seungcheol to be cracking like this.
Mingyu has always been the one with less composure, less control, so how come he’s suddenly the strong one?
“You can still go stay with Jeonghan,” Mingyu sighs.
“No,” comes Seungcheol’s short, angry reply.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this to yourself.”
“Why are you?” fires back the irritated alpha.
“Because she needed someone, and we’re the reason she’s in this situation.” Mingyu lets out a groan, adjusting against his bed as Seungcheol continues to pace.
“How are you so composed?” Seungcheol snaps.
“Honestly, I don’t know.” Mingyu can only shrug. “I just keep thinking about how hard this is for her. She was practically gifted to us, expected to be our omega plaything, was rejected-”
“We didn’t reject her,” the other alpha practically snarls.
“She probably sees it as a rejection,” Mingyu sighs. “There was an expectation, and it went unmet, and now, she’s having to deal with her heat without the support of her female pack members, for probably the first time in her life. She’s stuck with two alphas who, let’s be serious, don’t know what to do in this kind of situation. Neither of us has any experience with helping an omega through her heat. We both agreed not to enter into this kind of thing until we were more established as a pack.”
Seungcheol curses under his breath, and Mingyu takes a deep breath.
“We have a duty as the alphas of a pack, not as the alphas who want to mate with her. We made it clear we don’t own her.” The thought of owning another wolf in an arranged situation makes Mingyu’s mouth taste sour. “That she’s free here. Who are we if we go back on our word now due to our own animalistic instincts?”
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ALPHA GYUCHEOL FIC FROM MY BELOVED SMILEYSUH?!????? YESSSSSSSSSS COUNT ME TF INNNNNN
Hellebore
Stricken by your beauty, the god of the underworld decides to take you as his queen. You refuse his advances demanding to be brought home. He obliges, not wishing to see you upset. But the price of your freedom is one you are not willing to pay, leaving you trapped in the underworld for eternity.
Heh-luh-bor: A flower known to represent hope and resilience due to it blooming in the harsh conditions of winter.
Hades!Scoups x Fem!Reader
20.5k
Angst, fluffy, smut, kidnapping, suicide, major character death, depression, basically forced proximity, they're in the underworld so lots of talk about death, it's very morally grey in here, Cheol is just a lonely obsessed loser okay? other svt!gods mentioned, please note that none of the gods are related no incest here
First installment of Earth's Flowers
AO3 link
So me and @emotionalsupport-ljh are back at it again. I swear this was gonna be one fic (born from one of our conversations of course), but then Ness mentioned my weakness, svt harem, so now we have a series that we are both writing!!! Everyone clap!!!
Now playing: Eden by Hozier, Full Disclosure from Steven Universe, Love Me Not by Ravyn Lenae, Starlight by Muse, I Need You by Alicia Keys
Seungcheol thinks that he's never seen someone more beautiful. He dare not say it aloud for Aphrodite may strike you down for his ignorance, but still, his heart longed to bring you joy. He ultimately determined the only way to keep you safe and happy is to keep you with him. Bring you to his home in the underworld, and make you his queen. He knew you'd need time to adjust to your new situation, but he didn't expect the horrendous scream that came from your sweet lips when you woke up in his castle.
“Kardia mou, do not be scared.” Seuncheol pleaded as you scrambled into a corner, snatching a candelabra to use as a makeshift weapon (as if that was going to do anything to him). “You are safe here.”
To Seungcheol, you looked like a scared kitten. Frightened and aggressive as you tried to appear less terrified than you actually were. “Who are you!?” Seungcheol opened his mouth to answer but you cut him off with another question. “Where am I!?”
“You are-”
“What do you want from me!?”
A headache began to knock at Seungcheol's temples. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. Maybe he should've spoken to you before bringing you here. As Seuncheol tries to speak again, you interrupt him for a third time, screaming another question that you would surely not let him answer. The god’s blood boiled, if you'd just let him explain.
“Would you quiet down!?” He shouted.
The ground shook beneath you. The strange man’s voice was much louder than any you've ever heard. The noise rattled against your skull, your ears were ringing as well. You slid against the wall and to the floor hoping to gain some stability. You nodded to let him know of your compliance, much too afraid to speak again.
Seungcheol took a deep breath to calm himself. “I'm sorry, kardia mou. I shouldn't have yelled.” He felt terrible as you looked at him with cold fear in your eyes. You are just a human girl, small and fragile, he had to be delicate with you. “If you'd allow me to explain?”
In your mind, the question was rhetorical, but the stranger seemed to patiently await your answer, so you offered him another nod.
“Thank you.” He smiled softly before lowering himself to the ground to sit on his knees. He sat a few feet away from the corner you had crawled into. “My name is Seuncheol, but you might know better by the name you're people have given me, Hades.”
You blinked and glanced at the interior of what seemed to be a castle. The grand bedroom you woke up in, accompanied by a sort of gloomy decor. You're in the underworld. You are in the underworld. But that would mean-
“Am I dead?” You whispered, your voice shaking as tears pricked at your eyes.
“Oh no!” Seungcheol quickly shut the thought down. “You are alive and well! If you had died you would not be in my home.” He reasoned.
“Then why am I here?”
“To stay with me.”
“What?”
“I know it's a little strange. We've never properly met so you don't know me all that well. But I know you!” Seungcheol knows you well. He's devoted a large amount of his free time to watching you and learning the things you like. “You tend to sheep with your mother, and you go down to the market every week to sell wool during the cold season. And during the warm season you make and sell jewelry.” He took extra care to make sure you found the prettiest rocks by the water for you to sell.
“You've been… watching… me?” Your voice trembled. What could a god possibly want with you?
“For a few years now, yes.” Seuncheol smiled, extremely proud of himself.
“And you want me to stay with you… why?”
“Because I love you.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Love you? How could he love you? From just watching you? Why was he watching you? None of this made any sense. You wanted to go home.
“No.” You found the courage to rise to your feet. “I can't stay with you. I don't even know you.”
“No…” Seuncheol repeated to himself. He really didn't think this through. He should've gotten to know you better on the surface before bringing you down here. Of course you're weary about staying with a stranger. “Well you can go home.”
“I can?” You didn't expect him to just agree. Was this a joke?
“Of course, I wouldn't make you do something you don't want to do.” He nodded, a bit dejected. If he could find some time in his schedule to go to the overworld… that'll have to do.
“Oh… okay.” You folded your hands in front of you. Would your mamá believe you if you told her this? Maybe you're just dreaming. An all powerful god so enamored with you that he scooped you up and whisked you away. Definitely sounds like a dream. “Is there something I need to do or…”
Seuncheol rose to his feet, dusting off his robes. “Just tell me who'd you like to trade places with.” he took a few steps to stand in front of you.
“What?” Trade places… “What do you mean?”
“Oh!” He laughed at his forgetfulness. “I completely forgot. In order to leave the underworld, a life must be traded for your own. So just choose someone to take your place.”
“I have to kill somebody?” The thought horrified you. Take another life to spare your own? Just horrendous. It made your stomach twist.
“Well technically they wouldn't die because you are not dead. But they will have to stay here.”
Well… that wasn't so bad. Maybe the grouchy old lady at the market who keeps stealing your wool could finally retire.
“Oh, and an extremely important detail, it has to be someone you love.” Seuncheol nodded. Another thing that slipped his mind.
Your mouth went dry. Someone you love? You didn't have a lot of someone's to love in the first place, how could you trade one? The first person that came to mind was your mother. Oh no. Oh never. You'd stay down here for an eternity to keep her safe.
Your knees felt weak and you stumbled towards the bed you awoke in. Seuncheol reached out to you but you swatted him away.
“You brought me here, why can't you just send me back?” Your voice broke, tears pricking at your eyes.
“I apologize, kardia mou. But it doesn't work that way. My jurisdiction is to take, but give I cannot. There must be a trade.” Seuncheol panicked witnessing the way you began to curl in on yourself, hearing the tremor of your voice, the tears streaming down your face. This has gone wrong in every way possible.
You're stuck here. You're stuck here forever. Trapped in the underworld with a delusional god. Oh god. Oh God oh God oh God. Would one of the others hear you and grant you mercy? Or was it a hopeless endeavor?
“Kardia-”
“No.” You cut him off, your tone sharp. “Get out.” You demanded. Was it wise to speak to a god who could decide to take your life on whim like that? No. But you are already in the underworld with no feasible way home.
“____-”
“Get out!” You screamed, unable to hold back anymore. Your life is over. You will never see your home or your loved ones again.
Seungcheol was not upset by your outburst. He understood that what he had done was wrong. So with a heavy heart, he left the room, closing the door behind him. Even on the other side of the castle, he could hear your weeping. Your rapid heartbeat that showed no signs of slowing. He could only imagine your mental distress, what effects might this kind grief have on your human body.
It wasn't until many hours later did you stop crying, your heartbeat falling into a steady pace. You must've fallen asleep. That was good. It meant that you were resting. After all the energy you exerted, you needed plenty of rest. Seungcheol wanted to do something that might lift your spirits, even if just a little. Something to help make your adjusting a lot easier.
-
When you awoke, extremely disappointed to find that you hadn't just had some horrible nightmare, you cried again. What poor luck you had. Surely you must've done something to piss off the other gods and that's why you've been put in this situation. Is this a punishment for not believing in them? Maybe Hades was punishing you, and lied about being in love with you just to fuck with your head? You don't think anything you've done would warrant this kind of reaction, but the gods aren't exactly known for their benevolence.
Whatever reason you may be here, you can't hide away forever. Wiping the last of your tears away, you stood your feet with a goal in mind. If you're going to be trapped here for all eternity, it would be wise to get a lay of the land. You wander around the massive castle, making sure to keep track of the decor so that you can know where you are. You find yourself in some kind of dining hall with a grand table covered in food. Your favorite foods. Your brow quirked.
“Ah, kardia mou!” You look to the very end of the table and find Seungcheol. “I was just about to come get you! I know this situation isn't ideal, and it was never my intent to harm you, but I was hoping maybe a good meal would make you feel a bit better?” He walked along the expanse of the table until he reached you.
“Oh…” You looked back at all the foods laid out. He really did know you. The angry part of you wanted to shout at him and then head back to your room… but you were extremely hungry. “Okay.” You sighed.
“Really?” He was shocked. You were so upset yesterday he thought maybe this would backfire as well. But you actually agreed. “Wonderful!” He grabbed your hands and led you to a seat. “It's all your favorite foods, and drinks, and you can have whatever you want.”
You looked across the table, a rack of lamb catching your eye. But it was so far away… maybe Hades would get it for you? “Lamb?” You looked up at him in a silent request for him to go get it.
Turns out, he didn't even have to move. Put his hand on the table and the dishes started moving. They revolved along the shape of the table until the rack of lamb was in front of you. “Oh!” You gasped in surprise. “What was that?”
Seungcheol smiled at you. It was a lot more adorable than you thought the smile of Hades would be. He was a lot more docile than you thought Hades would be. “We'll call it a party trick.” It wasn't really that impressive, almost everyone he knew could do it. But you are a human so it must be rather shocking.
A party trick. You wondered what else he could do. “If that's a party trick, show me something really impressive.”
Seungcheol thought about it. His powers weren't very… fun. He could split the earth, maybe raise an army of lost souls, but none of that seemed appropriate. The things that might make you smile were just mere party tricks. Maybe he could have a guest? Someone with much more sensible abilities. You do love flowers.
“Maybe another time.” He offered.
You thought it was bullshit. Trapped you down here but he can't manage to entertain you. But it's fine… at least you had lamb, and any other food you could ever want for that matter. “Fine.” you grumbled.
-
Time went by and Hades had been spending everyday trying to lift your spirits. Food and gifts. Treasures that you would've never dreamed of in your life as a shepherd. You don't think there is a malicious bone in this man's body. Either he is an incredible liar, or he is just stupid. You're leaning towards the latter. It's incredibly hard to be mad at him, so you stopped. Now you're just sad.
You especially get bored around the castle when Seungcheol was working… or ruling… or whatever it might be. He spends all of his free time entertaining you if you let him, but unfortunately he is a god with other things to do. You're not allowed to watch him work either. He said that it's far too depressing and that it would only worsen your mood. He's probably right. Working with the dead can't be very fun. You wondered if it depressed him at all.
“Kardia mou!” You heard Seungcheol call for you from somewhere in the castle. It was impossible to find where he was with all these echoey halls, but you figured he'd be somewhere near the entrance. “There you are!” He met you halfway.
“What's that?” You questioned when you noticed what looked like a giant ball of cotton in his arms.
“A friend!” He chirped, placing it on the floor.
It has legs! And you think maybe a face! It was hard to tell with how fluffy it was. Then it barked. Oh goodness, it's a dog. It must be. Then its little legs started to move, running to you and circling you. Oh my.
“Is this supposed to be Cerberus?” You joked.
“No Cerberus stays at the court.” Seungcheol smiled as you lifted the ball of fluff into your arms. “Her name is Kkuma.”
“Kkuma.” You repeated as she nuzzled against you. “I love her.” You decided.
And that's exactly what Seungcheol was hoping for. Now you have a friend. “She'll be with us until she is called for reincarnation.”
“She's dead?” She doesn't look dead. What does dead look like?
“Mhm, it was an internal ailment so there's no physical manifestation.” He explained.
“Poor thing.” You pouted and kissed her on her head. “How long until she has to go?” You'd hate to lose her when you just got her.
“It depends. I'm not responsible for those things but sometimes it's one earth year, sometimes it's a few.” Seungcheol did his best to keep to time frames you understood, but there wasn't really time down under. There was ‘I should do this now,’ or ‘I can do that later.’ But time? Not really. But he found that it helped with your adjustment to give you timeframes.
You nodded. Well you would love her for as long as you could. Then something occurred to you. “Cerberus is real?”
This made Seungcheol laugh quite hard, the ground shaking beneath you. “Of course! You think everything is made up don't you?”
The tips of your ears felt hot. It's quite embarrassing to still be questioning things when you're holding a dead puppy that Hades himself gave to you. “Well humans love to lie, you know.” You huffed.
“Oh you're absolutely right, kardia mou. Your people do like to make up stories.” He sighed, leaning against the wall.
“Like the ones where they make you out to be some kind of demon?” That was just a bold faced lie, through and through.
Seungcheol thought about it. He acts… different with you. “Well I suppose looking death in the eyes can feel like you're face to face with a demon.”
You nodded in understanding. You suppose you were horrified when you learned of who he was as well.
But nothing could've prepared you for the horror that came with the interruption of your dinner. In a literal bolt of lightning, a rather dainty man appeared in the dining hall. And there was another man with him as well. Admittedly, you screamed. It was loud and scary, really you couldn't be blamed. Seungcheol only rolled his eyes at the theatrics.
Apparently you were looking at Zeus and Poseidon. Thee Zeus and Poseidon. You were sat in a room with the three most powerful gods. It was times like this that you especially wished you had another human to talk to.
“Is there a reason you're interrupting my meal, Jeonghan?” Seungcheol was already tired of his visitors and they had only just arrived.
“Oh don't be so sour, Cheolie.” Zeus, who seemed to go by Jeonghan, pretended to pout. “We just heard you had a new friend and wanted to meet her is all.”
“Hi, pretty.” Poseidon stood beside your seat, leaning down to face you.
Oh no. No no no. You cannot deal with more gods becoming infatuated with you. Absolutely not.
You turned to Seungcheol who was already out of his seat and pushing the younger god away. “Well you've seen her, you can leave now.”
“You never did like to share, Hades.” Poseidon scoffed.
“Oh don't give me that, Soonyoung.” Seugcheol crossed his arms. “We all know what happens if you find someone on the water when you're having a bad day.”
“I have rules.” He huffed. “All I'm asking is that people follow them.”
“You’re a control freak.”
“Okay okay.” Zeus interjected. “Let's not fight, we're all friends here. We wouldn't want to scare the girl now would we, Cheol?”
And that alone made Seungcheol sit down. He sat right beside you, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it tight. Normally, you never thought much of his need to touch you, but you can't deny that in this moment it was bringing you an immense amount of comfort.
Zeus… Jeonghan? He placed his hand on the table and did the same party trick you'd seen Seungcheol do many times now. But instead of moving plates so that the food you desired most could sit in front of you, he cleared the space entirely before stepping onto the table. He made a stage for himself. Poseidon stepped up as well, clearly excited to do whatever it was they were doing.
“Oh my.” Seungcheol groaned beside you. “Is this necessary?”
“Oh don't be a killjoy, Cheolie.” The king of gods rolled his eyes. Then he cleared his throat. Then there was a spotlight? “There is not a shot down here that you don't know who I am.” He began. “But a proper introduction is always in order. You know me well as Zeus, King of gods, god of lightning and thunder, law and order, father of men. Yes, many songs sing my praises. But you, my dear, you may call me Jeonghan.” He winked at you.
Your eyes narrowed. Where did that spotlight come from? Is it just another party trick? “Jeonghan, huh?”
“Yes, dear.” He smiled at you sweetly. “Actually you can call me anything you like. Including yours.”
Damnit. Damnit! Not another one! “Right.” You plastered a smile on your face. You wouldn't want to upset him. Zeus is known to be a bit… irrational. “Nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
“My turn!” Poseidon nudged Jeonghan to the side.
Jeonghan rolled his eyes but he let the other have his moment.
“Poseidon, god of the sea, earthquakes and storms! And significantly better than everyone else!” He was so… aggressive. You also had trouble paying attention to anything he was saying, his eyes an absolutely hypnotizing, deep blue color that reminded you of the ocean reflecting the night sky. “But, all of my friends refer to me as Soonyoung, and you are no exception, pretty girl.”
“Nice to meet you.” You nodded.
“I bet it is.” He beamed.
Right…
“Okay, we're done.” Jeonghan announced and the spotlight was gone. He stepped down from the table, taking the seat on the other side of you. “And of course we know who you are, dear.”
“You do?” Your brows pinched together.
“Hades doesn't make many friends so there's always a racket when he does.” Soonyoung laughed. He sat in front of you on the table, his legs crossed over one another.
“And how could we not know of such a beautiful woman?” Jeonghan added.
“Were you watching me too?” The question slipped past your lips before you could stop it. But really, was he?
“I’ve seen you around.”
So yes. Yes he was. It couldn't have been for nearly as long as Seungcheol had, or else you think he would've gotten to you first. Would that have been better? You wouldn't have been trapped in the underworld at the very least. But there was this glint in his eye that told you maybe you were better off down here.
“And you?” You asked Soonyoung.
“Me?” He scoffed. “No, I'm not a loser. If the woman is not in front of me, I do not need her.”
You didn't know how to take that. What does that mean?
“Of course I do find it shameful that we've never crossed paths.” Soonyoung lamented. “Now you are trapped down here with Hades of all people.” The situation seemed to upset him a great deal. You suppose you can relate to that.
“Did you only come down here to insult me, or?” Seungcheol butted in, his grip on your hand growing just a bit tighter.
“Well I'm obviously here to make acquaintance with the girl.” Soonyoung hissed.
“Well you've made her acquaintance so perhaps-”
“You really have no manners, Seungcheol. All this time alone has made you forget yourself.” He spat.
“Don't you have ships to sink?” Seungcheol stood from his seat, letting go of your hand.
“Oh I sink ships!? Who cares!?” Soonyoung shouted and the ground shook. He moved from the table to stand in front of Seungcheol. “At least I'm not the god of death, bitter and alone! You had to kidnap a girl so that you'd have someone to spend time with!”
“I know you are not speaking to me about kidnapping girls! You hypocritical fool!”
Oh no. With the way the world was shaking you felt the need to hide under the table. And they were so loud, their voices causing your ears to ring. If they continued like this something very bad was going to happen.
Jeonghan stood up, and it was like the world froze. A flash of light so bright it would've blinded you had you not closed your eyes. Then it was silent. You lifted your head from where you had buried your face into your arms, only to find that you were alone. But you could hear them. You stood from your seat and quietly made your way to the door you could hear their voices from.
“Soonyoung I told you that if I allowed you to come, that under no circumstance could you provoke Seungcheol.” You heard Jeonghan's voice.
“I didn't do anything.” Soonyoung hissed.
“I don't have time for this. You are behaving like a child. Whether you like it or not, that is not a fight that you can win, so I suggest you mind your manners.” Jeonghan sighed. This was no good. No good at all. “Not to mention the girl, my goodness. She could've been seriously harmed. And I know you don't much care for what happens to humans, but I'm sure you'd care a great deal if Hades was breaking down your door. And I wouldn't help you either.”
Jeonghan spoke calmly but his voice still sent a shiver down your spine. He spoke with the certainty of not only someone with authority, but someone with an authority that under no circumstance could be questioned.
You think you heard Soonyoung grumble a bit before the door began to open. You backed away, your eyes immediately searching for Seungcheol. You didn't hear him speak at all, and that's because he wasn't there.
“I am so sorry about that, my dear. I hope it didn't frighten you too badly.” Jeonghan immediately apologized as he took hold of your hands. “Those two have always had trouble getting along.”
“Where is Seungcheol?” You glanced around the room to find that he still wasn't there.
“Oh he's just fine. He's cooling off.” His arm wrapped around your shoulders as he walked you back to the table. “Trust me, dear. You do not want to be around while he's good and angry. And Soonyoung has always known how to get under his skin.” He chuckled.
Jeonghan noticed the way your hands trembled. You were scared, and for good reason. But now you were safe. He sat you back right in your seat and moved your food to how it was before.
“When will he be back?” You questioned.
You sure have grown attached haven't you? That's what Jeonghan figured. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This was fine. This could be remedied with time. He knows that he has plenty of it.
“Give it a few… hours? Do you call it?” You nodded, confirming. “A few hours then.” Jeonghan smiled and sat beside you once again.
Soonyoung quietly sat across from you, sulking. He was likely embarrassed having gotten scolded like that. Only a bit later when Jeonghan started telling stories did he insert himself into the conversation to brag about his own grand adventures.
At some point you heard tiny little padded steps. Kkuma had made her way into the dining hall. She immediately jumped into your lap, nuzzling herself into your stomach. You smiled at the little fluff ball.
“Is that a puppy?” Soonyoung questioned with furrowed brows.
“Mhm.” You hummed. “Her name is Kkuma.”
“How on Gaia did you get a puppy down here?*
“Well she is dead” You patted her head. “Seungcheol said I could keep her until she reincarnates.”
Jeonghan blinked. Is that how he'd gotten you to let your guard down? Gifts? Humans truly are all the same. A few gifts and suddenly you're in love. Jeonghan was hoping you hadn't grown to like the elder so much, now he actually has to put in effort. But who could possibly resist his charms? Surely with a bit more persuasion you would favor him over the melancholic man in no time.
“Such a pretty puppy.” Jeonghan complimented.
“Isn't she?” You beamed.
Jeonghan thought your smile was almost as bright as his light. “Tell me, dear. How would you like to get out of here?”
Your brows furrowed. Out of where? “The castle? Seungcheol said it isn't very safe outside.”
“And he's absolutely right! The underworld is no place for such a delicate girl!” Jeonghan passionately agreed with the sentiment. “That's why I'm offering you a way out.”
You gawked at the god. He can do that? “You can do that?”
“Of course! I am Zeus! King of gods and father of men! I can do whatever I like!” His hand landed on the table to emphasize his status.
You narrowed your eyes. But what does he want in return? “What are the conditions?” There are always conditions.
“Nothing crazy, you'd just have to marry me.”
“What?”
“Once we are wed you'd be under my dominion making you an Olympian. And the part I think you'll like the most, you can go wherever you want, whenever you want. Completely free to do as you like.” Jeonghan explained.
He made it sound so simple. Maybe compared to being trapped in the underworld for an eternity, it is a simple choice. But something about this wasn't right to you.
“Why do you want to marry me?”
“Why wouldn't I, my dear? You are perfect in every way.” The god smiled at you.
“But I'm a human, aren't you worried about me dying?” You don't think that you could die in the underworld, but does Olympus work the same?
“I can change that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I'm Zeus, dear. I have my ways.” You ask a lot of questions. So many people would leap at the prospect of marrying Zeus and becoming an Olympian, but for some reason you hesitated. And in your position? What could possibly be your reasoning?
“Can he do the same thing?” You pointed at Soonyoung who had long accepted that this was not his time.
Jeonghan could not help but laugh. “Oh goodness no!” His hardy laugh made the ground shake. “Oh that would be the day wouldn't it!?”
“Listen, dear.” He said, catching his breath. “I understand that you are being cautious, but how I see it, you really don't have much of a choice. Your options are marry me and live as an Olympian, or stay down here alone with maybe the most miserable man I've ever known.”
You didn't like the way he was speaking. Maybe you were being prideful, but you felt insulted. “What if I don't want to spend my life with you?”
Jeonghan was tired of this. He's offering your life back and more! And you have the nerve to question him!? Have it your way then. “Dear, if I have it my way you would only be spending the night with me.” He scoffed.
You gasped, offended. “Well I don't think I like you very much, so thank you for the offer, but no.”
Jeonghan's eye twitched. You actually said no. You actually turned him down. And for what? For Seuncheol!? You'd rather spend eternity with Seungcheol than even a few hours with him!? Such ignorance. Such foolishness. This is what he gets for having faith in a human.
Soonyoung cackled at what he had just witnessed. Never did he think he'd see the day Zeus got rejected. He can't say that he understands why you would make such a decision, but oh my he loved that you did.
“Well,” Jeonghan stood from his seat, “it's about time for Seungcheol to return, and I'm sure he'd like us gone by the time he returns. Enjoy your miserable eternity, ____.”
And he left with Soonyoung just as he came. A strike of lightning just a little too loud, and wildly terrifying. Then you heard a splash? You looked around and found Seungcheol on the floor, soaking wet. You put Kkuma down before getting on the floor and crawling over to Seungcheol.
“What happened to you?” You took hold of his hand.
Seungcheol closed his eyes, inhaled, then exhaled. “I was at the bottom of the ocean.”
Your eyes widened. “Why?”
Seungcheol just barely registered the concern in your voice. “I'm fine, I just needed to cool off. I was supposed to be down there longer but I guess Jeonghan got bored.” He laughed, a bit miffed.
“Actually… I think I made him mad.” You admitted.
Seungcheol blinked, lifting his head to look at you. You weren't harmed, but you definitely seemed shaken. It was likely just nerves from pissing off Zeus. That's enough to put anyone into shock. All things considered, you were doing well.
“And how did you do that?” He was curious. Maybe you rejected the younger gods advances? That would do it.
“He made me an offer.” You sighed. “And I might've made a stupid decision.”
“Offer?” What could he have offered you?
“Yes. He said that if I married him I would become an Olympian, and I'd be free to go where I wanted, no consequences.” It really seemed like the perfect deal, but you could not get past the nagging in your brain telling you otherwise.
“Oh he's such a fucking liar.” Seungcheol groaned. If that were the case, he would've suggested it a while ago.
“It's not true?”
“If you had married him you would be free, yes. But someone would still have to take your place.” Seungcheol explained. Jeonghan was always incredibly convincing, but you managed to see past that. “That's not my rule, that's not even a rule of the underworld. That is a universal rule, and no matter how powerful he may be, even he has to abide by that. Now I'm sure he could've bent the rule a great deal, but someone would still have to replace you.”
You nodded, fully taking in Seungcheol's words. “I believe I made the right decision then.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. I would hate to be married to a temperamental liar,” You asserted. “And someone would still be suffering because of me.”
“You are too kind for your own good, kardia mou.” Seungcheol thinks that you should've taken Jeonghan's deal. He may be temperamental and a liar, but that's a small price to pay for your freedom. He would've also gotten past the whole loved one thing so that it would just be a random person down here. It could've been someone you hated if you really liked. “But I'm sure if you ever change your mind he'll come running back.”
“Well I guess he won't be back here for a while then.” You huffed. Not a chance.
Seungcheol held your hand a bit tighter. “I'm sorry about the disagreement, it must've scared you.” He looked at you with big glassy eyes.
It terrified you. But most things do now. “Don’t be. I'm fine.” You nodded. “Should you get dry?” You reached out to touch his damp hair. He really was at the bottom of the ocean. Insanity.
“Yes.” He sighed. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your wrist before moving to stand up. “I'll be back shortly, but you should be getting ready for sleep now, yes?”
You had no clue how Seungcheol told time within these walls, but he was right, you were very tired. So stood up as well, and allowed him to walk you to your room.
“Sleep well, kardia mou.” He smiled at you sweetly.
“Thank you.” You finally let go of his hand as retired to your room. “You as well."
-
“Are you sure I can't come with you?” You asked Seungcheol, for what must've been the millionth time, if you could go with him to do whatever he does when he leaves the castle.
“I'm positive.” Seungcheol sighed.
“But it's so boring, Cheol!” You whined, grabbing onto his robes to shake him just a little. “There's no one else in the castle! You brought me here, why don't you want to spend time with me!?”
“All I do is spend time with you, kardia mou.” You allowed him to grab you by your waist and pull you closer to him. “And I'd bring you if I could, but I promise it would only make you feel worse.” His big pouty eyes almost persuaded you, but you were far too stubborn to be moved so easily.
“Being alone is making me feel worse.”
“You have Kkuma.”
“And I love her, but I need to be around a person.”
It really would be a terrible idea to let you go, but you clearly didn't know what it meant to give up. It was one of the things Seungcheol loved about you, but it was turning into a thorn in his side.
“I'm going to show you something.” He grabbed your hand and led you outside.
You'd only been outside in the “gardens” so the view outside the front gates was a foreign one. It was about as dreary as anywhere else you'd been. But in the distance, you could see a hill with what looked like a temple at the top of it.
“That's the court.” Seungcheol informed you once he noticed your stare.
“That's where you work?”
“Mhm. Souls come in and out all day. Some with horrific memories of their death, others unable to even remember their own name.” Seungcheol explained in a somber tone. He'd grown used to the cries and screams, but that didn’t mean he couldn't hear them in his sleep. “Very few die at peace. So many beg to see their loved ones just one more time, but there isn't much that I can do. I can offer them judgement, and I can offer a place to lie their heads. But peace of mind is far beyond me.”
“It must be upsetting-” You subconsciously leaned into the sorrowful god to offer him comfort- “That there isn't much you can do.”
“It's agonizing.” Seungcheol turned to you and reached out to cup your face in his hand. “That is why you cannot come with me.”
You leaned into his touch, a pout on your lips. “But what am I supposed to do?” You didn't want to cry, but you could no longer stop the tears from falling. It was incredibly unfair. You were stuck down here with no one, and the one person who could possibly keep you company had better things to do.
“Oh, kardia mou, I am so sorry.” His apology was genuine, they always were. He acted selfishly and ultimately brought harm to you. It truly was never his intention, it's the last thing he ever wanted. But it could not be undone.
You fell into him, pressing your face into his chest to hide yourself. You wanted to be done with the tears, but they were never done with you. You could sob all day and you would still be unable to stop.
Seungcheol had an idea. It was up in the air whether or not the idea would work, but he had to try.
The next day you woke up to Seungcheol knocking at your door, and when you opened it, he was smiling at you brightly.
“Good morning, kardia mou.”
“You seem terribly excited.” You rubbed the sleep from your eyes.
“I have a surprise for you.” He announced, reaching to hold your hands.
You allowed him to pull you through the castle, and out to the gardens. You didn't know why he was bringing you to the gardens, you've seen them a million times. You've walked them just as many. But then the grand doors swung open and there was something distinctly different. Color. Many colors. Every color. There were flowers. Flowers as far the eye could see. Not the depressing black Roses that made your heart ache, no. Tulips. Dahlias, Lillies, chrysanthemums, lilacs! More than you could name! More than you knew!
“Seungcheol.” You gasped, grabbing onto his robes tightly out of shock. “How?”
“You have him to thank.” Seungcheol tilted his head towards the flourishing garden.
You squinted your eyes, and seemingly from nowhere, a man appeared amongst the flowers. He was delicate, and beautiful, and angelic. And he had a glow about him that made you think that this might be a dream.
“I can not thank you enough, Minghao.” Seungcheol clasped his hands together in thanks.
Minghao sighed at the elder god, not fully sure why he did him this favor. But then he got a good look at you and it made a bit more sense to him.
“You must be, ____.” He greeted you. “My name is Minghao, but I believe you would know me best as Demeter.”
That made sense. Demeter, bringer of harvest, and responsible for all natural beauty of the world. He came down to the underworld to bring some of that beauty to you.
“It's nice to meet you.” You couldn't help but smile at him.
“It is nice to meet you too.” He smiled back.
“You did all of this?” You stepped away from Seungcheol and made your way into the garden.
“Well Seungcheol sure didn't do it.” He laughed.
You just barely suppressed a laugh of your own as you kneeled down to pick a flower, one you've never seen before. “Thank you.” You looked at him and held up the flower. “What is this?”
“Hellebore.” Minghao sat beside you and picked one for himself. “They represent resilience, and hope.”
“Hope, huh.” You stared at the bowl shaped petals.
Minghao could see the sorrow Seungcheol had told him about. You smiled seeing the flowers, but your pain ran deep. A few colors would not remedy this. “Hope because it blooms even in the harsh cold, and its resilience is rewarded by the light of spring.”
“That sounds difficult.”
“It is, but it's strong.” He plucked a few more flowers before standing and offering you his hand. “Shall we make you a crown?”
“A crown?” You took hold of his hand, and despite his delicate appearance, he pulled you up with ease.
“A crown for a queen.” Minghao led you further into the garden. “I think we need some irises.” He nodded.
Seungcheol watched as you roamed the gardens with Minghao smiling and giggling. Together you made a lovely crown of flowers that looked beautiful on you. Then he had to leave for his responsibilities and Minghao agreed to stay with you until he returned.
“How is Seungcheol treating you?” Minghao asked almost as soon as the god of death left.
You were laid out in the bed of flowers, basking in the sensation you feared that you would forget. “He’s very kind.”
Minghao's brows furrowed. “Is that all?”
You looked to the god, confused by his question. “He's also very giving?” You tried.
“What about loving?” Minghao kneeled beside you. “Excuse my manners, but is that not the entire reason you're here?”
“Loving?” You pushed yourself into an upright position. Loving. That is why you are here, his desire to love and to be loved. You questioned how he could love you even though he barely knew you, but he claimed to know you well. This proved to be true. So he does love you. But is he loving? “What do you mean by ‘loving?’”
Minghao sighed. So no. History did love to repeat itself. “No relationship can survive with just kindness and gifts. It can only blossom with love as its soil.”
Your eyes widened slightly. “Cheol and I aren't-”
“I know I know.” Minghao waved off your explanation. “All I'm saying is that everyone needs a companion, but as of now he's treating you more like a pet.”
“I really don't understand what you're trying to say.”
Minghao didn't know why he was talking to you about this. You would not accept it. As much as you craved companionship, the idea of any kind of relationship with the one who brought you here was still off-putting to you. And that was understandable, but the only thing that could possibly bring you peace, was the feeling of love that you were torn from on the surface.
“Well I digress, I just wish for you to be happy is all.” The god sighed once again. “Joy is hard to come by in a place like this.”
Hearing Minghao's words made your mind turn, and your heart twist. You did not want to think about this. “Can we make another crown?” You looked down at the flowers, your gaze locking on a pretty patch of Lillies.
“Do you not like yours?” Minghao asked, looking at the colorful crown that adorned your head. He allowed you to change the subject. Your reality is not an easy one, and he would not make you face it unless you were ready.
“No, I adore mine.” You reached out and began to pick the flowers. “I want to make one for you.”
“For me?” Minghao placed a hand over his heart. Such a sweet gesture. “I'd be honored.”
You giggled at the god. They're all so dramatic.
Minghao decided to stay for dinner as well. Then he even stayed until you retired for bed. You were grateful for his presence. It was significantly less boring with him around.
“Anytime you can call for me, Seungcheol.” Minghao insisted as Seungcheol led him to the door. “I will come as soon as possible, I promise.”
“Thank you, Minghao, really.” Seungcheol held his hand. “I know we've had our issues-”
“Don't even mention it.” Minghao cut him off. “But you listen and you listen well. That girl is miserable, and for reasons beyond me she insists on trying to spare your feelings. All she has is you so you better offer her every drop of love your corpse of a body has to offer.” He pressed his finger to the god of death’s chest, a warning is his stare.
“I've given her everything I have.” Seungcheol pinched the bridge of his nose. He was powerless.
“But you still haven't given yourself.” It was the same thing every time with him. So fucking dense. “You've got a bad habit of thinking gifts are equivalent to giving someone your love. I believe you when you say you love her, you're far from a liar. But you are scared.”
“Scared?” Seungcheol scoffed.
“Like a child.” Minghao didn't want to argue, but Seungcheol needed to understand. For your sake. “But I promise you, she is more terrified than you can comprehend. So man up, and love that woman.”
Minghao then turned and opened the grand doors of the castle with a wave of his hand. “I wish you and her well, Seungcheol.” And then he left.
Seungcheol wanted to be offended, but he supposed Minghao would know better than anyone. He was right. If you got sick of him you didn't have the option to leave, you couldn't just walk away. Seungcheol had to ensure you were cared for in every way, even if that meant being completely vulnerable.
He loves you. He loves you so dearly. And he would show you that.
-
True to his word, when Seungcheol asked for him to keep you company once again, Minghao was there in a matter of moments. Seungcheol only had to call the god of harvest once, because after that he seemingly never left the underworld. But he surely was at some point going back to the surface to do his job, less the humans would begin to cry for their dying crops. That being said, Seungcheol couldn't begin to understand why the younger god insisted on staying. If it was for your sake, he then had to wonder why he cared so much. He supposed Demeter has always had a great deal of room in his heart compared to the others.
You were much happier with someone else around. Seungcheol had begun to think that you didn't need him at all. Then Minghao gave him a firm reminder that he could not stay there forever, and that his presence was only to placate you. So, with this in mind, Seungcheol did something he had not ever done since he was placed in the underworld. He took a day off.
You were ecstatic. Seungcheol did not think you would be so happy to see him for just a few more hours, especially with Minghao around. But clearly he was wrong. You pulled him around by his arm as Kkuma trailed behind the two of you, also seemingly happy that he was around for the day. You showed him your favorite books in the castle's vast library. Then you showed him the apple tree Demeter had grown in the garden so that you could have a snack between meals. You even showed him a game you played with the god of harvest where one of you would hide and the other would seek out the one hiding. You said Minghao would cheat and use his powers to make himself impossible to find, but you had started to notice that flowers would begin to sprout out of the ground whenever you got close to him.
There were many things you did to occupy your time while Seungcheol was gone. Far more than the god of death had expected. But he supposed that time passed differently for you. At some point the two of you found yourselves in the library once again. You requested that Seungcheol read to you, and he obliged. But your mind failed to focus on the words leaving his lips.
“You can leave, right?” You voiced the question tugging at your mind.
Seungcheol looked up from the book in his hand with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”
“The underworld.” You clarified.
Seungcheol nodded in understanding. “I can.”
“So why don't you?” You continued your line of questioning. “Why do you stay here alone when you can leave anytime you like?”
“And go where?” Seungcheol did not know what provoked these questions, but he was sure that his answers would leave you unsatisfied. “Me and the other gods don't get along very well. You know that.”
“Minghao seems to like you well enough.” You sat up from laying across the couch you had claimed to be yours and yours alone.
“It's complicated.” Seungcheol sighed, setting the book in his hand on the table. “We had a falling out some time ago.”
“So loneliness actually drove you to take me?” You glossed right over the bit of information having deemed it unimportant.
“Loneliness didn't drive me to take you. I did it because I could.” Seungcheol was surprised. You never talk about this. “Kidnapping isn't exactly a thing for us.”
“How come?”
Seungcheol tried to think of an answer that wasn’t so bleak, but the truth was never what anyone wished it to be. “Because we're gods. No one tells us no in fear they might be smited. When everyone is constantly trying to please you, a moral compass doesn't have much meaning. Everything you do is right, no matter what it is you do.”
Your brows pinched together as you thought about it. You knew that. It's what made the most sense. But you still wish it was something besides his poor moral compass. You weren't sure how to feel about it.
“But you regret it?”
“Very much, yes.”
“All it took was me being upset?”
“That is how it works when you care for someone isn't it.” Seungcheol sighed, thinking about it a bit more. “You are also the first and only human to have denied me anything. It was eye opening. And you continued with your streak and told Zeus to shove it, which would've had even me trembling in fear. It's admirable.”
Minghao's words came to mind. A pet. Were you a person he loved? Or just a pet? “Do you see me as an equal then?”
“Of course.” Seungcheol nodded, leaning back in his chair. “I thought I did initially, but if that were the case I would've had more respect for your autonomy. I'm sorry that it took all of this to realize. It’s shameful.”
You didn't like that. You don't think you could ever actually be angry with him about this, so hearing his genuine guilt made you pity him just a little. “There's no need to apologize anymore. I'm here, and that's that.”
“That's that?” Seungcheol sat up straight once again. You could not be serious. “You cannot possibly expect me to go about normally while you suffer in silence.”
“I'm not suffering.”
“Oh goodness, Minghao was right.” Seungcheol pinched the bridge of his nose.
Minghao? He sure did like to give his two cents. “What did Minghao say?”
“You're hiding your feelings to protect me.”
You gnawed on your bottom lip. “Well… it wouldn't be fair to you-”
“Fair to me?” Seungcheol scoffed. "You're worried about me when you've been put in the most unfair position I've seen in all my life.”
“You have got to be exaggerating, you have been alive for a very long time.”
“____.” Seungcheol gave you a pointed look.
“Okay I see your point.” You picked up a pillow and hugged it to your chest. “But I can't do it. I've thought about it a lot. This is your fault, why can't I be mad at you? Why don't I want you to be upset? Is it because I know you're my only chance at ever forming a connection with anyone ever again? Or do I just pity your ignorance?”
“I could've taken my chances with Zeus, but frankly he seems like a handful and just generally a lot less sympathetic. Is that because you spend more time around humans in a way? You've been around the sorrow of my people for who knows how long, is that why upon seeing me upset you immediately understood that you made a mistake? I'd rather be around someone ignorant but capable of learning, than someone who doesn't care to learn at all. And that brings me back to the pity thing. I don't perceive you as a god who fucked up my life for his own selfish agenda. I see you as a person who made a mistake. And as terrible of a mistake as it was, I cannot bring myself to be angry when you had no ill intention.”
Saying it all aloud made it make more sense to you. In your eyes, there was no reason to be angry at him. You were extremely upset, yes. But if he could fix it, he would, and that was good enough for you.
Seungcheol did not know what to think of your confession. He was mostly in shock to find that you truly had no ill will towards him. Yes you thought him a fool, but that's more than he deserved.
“What about you?” He asked.
You let out a long, sorrowful sigh. “I'm tired. I'm tired of being sad. I'm tired of everyone feeling sorry for me. I want freedom, but it is something I cannot have. I do have a pretty puppy that I cherish; Minghao, who has gone out of his way to keep me company; and you, who… loves me. This is what I have to work with, and I will not take any of it for granted.”
Seungcheol grimaced at your uncertainty. He had no one but himself to blame. He rose from his seat, taking perch next to you on the sofa.
“I do love you.” He placed his hand on the back of the sofa, but was careful not to lean over you.
“Yes…” your eyes narrowed. “Okay no. I feel like a doll.” You specifically ignored this before because you didn't exactly enjoy the idea of the god becoming close with you. But now… well it didn't seem so bad.
“Right…” Seungcheol gnawed on his lip. “I will remedy this.”
“And how exactly do you plan to do that?”
“You've asked many questions today, I think I will keep this to myself.” Seungcheol was actually unsure of what exactly he should be doing, but he thinks taking more time away from his responsibilities would be a good start. He can find someone to take care of things in his place. “It's time for you to sleep anyways.”
“Let's start with that actually. I am a grown woman, stop telling me it's my bed time.” You'd been meaning to tell him that, but you’re always so tired that you just let it go.
Seungcheol's brows furrowed. He knows you are tired and that you are ready for sleep. He can hear it in your breathing, see it in your eyes. Why argue? Autonomy. That's why.
“Okay, no more bed time. Sleep whenever you like.” Seungcheol nodded in agreement. “Shall I finish the story?” He asked you, reaching for the book on the coffee table.
You agreed, but it wasn't long after he started reading when you began to drift off. He continued to read, letting you succumb to sleep on your own. Then he sat the book down in favor of lifting you in his arms, and carrying you to your room.
-
You think that mornings are your favorite time of day even though there is no sun to rise. Waking up refreshed and experiencing the first few hours of the day before your reality sets in once again, it feels almost as if your life is normal. The pitter-patter of Kkuma trailing behind you as you made your way to the dining hall; Seungcheol and Minghao sat at the table waiting for you; your favorite foods laid out before you so that you may have your pick. It was all so lovely.
“How did you sleep, kardia mou?” Seungcheol asked as you took your seat.
You noticed something. The table was considerably smaller. Instead of a lengthy rectangular table taking up the entire expanse of the room, it was rounded and ovular, and maybe a third of its initial size. It felt less grand and intimidating, more comfortable and intimate. You didn't feel as if you were speaking over an ocean as you spoke to Seungcheol.
“Well.” You looked over your meal options. Maybe a sweet bread? “However, I don't remember going to bed.”
Seungcheol immediately noticed what had caught your eye, placing his hand on the table to deliver you a loaf of bread coated in sugar. “That's because you fell asleep while I was reading.” He mused.
Your face felt warm, embarrassed that you couldn't manage to stay awake. “I see…” you sliced into the bread with a knife. “I suppose I was tired after all.”
“It seems so.” Seungcheol continued his teasing as he bit into a fig.
Minghao quietly watched the exchange from the end of the table, taking note of the slight shift in how you interact with one another. There was a sense of comfort growing.
“And you?” Seungcheol addressed Minghao.
Minghao's brows raised. “Me?” He gestured to himself a bit confused. “What about me?”
“How was your rest, Hao?” Seungcheol smiled.
“Oh, it was good.” Minghao nodded, still a bit shocked. “I rested well.” And Seungcheol called him Hao… he hadn't heard that in a few millennia.
Your eyes narrowed at the interaction. Minghao was good at keeping himself all neat and composed so you hadn't noticed anything to suggest that he and Seungcheol weren't on good terms. Seungcheol could also be a brick wall when he wanted to be, so nothing there either. Though normal conversation between them always seemed a little… odd, you chalked it up to gods being weird. Clearly you've misread it.
“Are you um… resting well these days?” Minghao was hesitant to ask for a plethora of reasons.
“No worse than I usually do.” Seugcheol nodded.
You have so very clearly misread this.
Later you dragged Seungcheol to the garden to participate in another one of your favorite pastimes, making flower crowns with Demeter. You have yet to grow bored of it, there being so many flowers and in so many colors. The possibilities were endless. And of course, you had yet to make a crown for seungcheol. You were intent on remedying this.
“Peonies?” You questioned, no clue where in the vast garden you might find one.
Minghao placed his hand on the grown and grew you a fresh patch of peonies. “Right here, darling,” he said as if they were always there.
“I thought Hermes was the god of tricks?” You huffed as you picked the peonies.
“Hao couldn't even begin to try for Hermes's title, kardia mou.” Seungcheol laughed. “These are small jokes.”
“I wouldn't want that title.” Minghao's brows furrowed, slightly offended at being dismissed so quickly. “Hermes is a ruffian.”
“You adore him.” Seungcheol raised a brow.
“... I do, but that's not the point.” The god of harvest turned his head to hide his embarrassment.
Seungcheol smirked. An opportunity had presented itself. “The delicate flower hides away, flustered after contradicting himself.”
Minghao gasped in shock. “Oh don't you start this, Seungcheol.” He pointed at the elder god accusingly.
“The flower appears to be much less delicate as it blooms in a fiery rage.” Seungcheol continued his teasing, unfazed by Minghao's warning.
“Your narration is repulsive.” Minghao barely lifts a finger and vines begin to grow, wrapping around Seungcheol’s limbs.
“What is this?” Seungcheol laughs. In mere seconds, the plants retreat as they begin to wilt from being in contact with him. “Flora, you know that doesn't work on me.” He sighed, almost disappointed by the tame reaction.
“Just a second.” Minghao sat back and waited a moment, specifically choosing to ignore the nickname.
Seungcheol scratched at his neck to relieve an itch. But then there was another, and another. Seungcheol laughed, having realized what was happening.
“What was that?” You asked with wide eyes. “What is happening to his skin?”
“Poison ivy. It causes a rash.” Minghao explained.
You gasped. That felt extreme. But then again, seungcheol seemed more amused than anything.
“It won't last long for me, but now I should go wash so it does not get on you, kardia mou.” Seungcheol stood, dusting off his robes. “I'll be just a moment.”
When Seungcheol left, you looked at Minghao who had a victorious smile on his face. The interaction was very interesting to you. Dare you say it was… flirtatious?
“You two get along well,” you said your observation aloud.
Minghao blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Well Seungcheol told me the two of you had a falling out some time ago, so I thought it was nice that you've managed to start getting along again.” You continued, careful not to sound like you were grilling him.
“Oh.” Minghao sat up straight, a shade of pink dusting his cheeks. “Did he tell you what about?”
“No.” You replied. “Is it something I should know?” You raised a brow.
“No.” The god of harvest found it difficult to look you in the eyes, something in your gaze threatened to pull the truth from him.
“I was just saying I'm glad that it isn't hard for you to be here since you're doing it for me and all.” You nodded. Your words were genuine, but you also hoped to maybe have your suspicions confirmed.
“Well it was a long time ago. Our issues have long since burned out.” Minghao sighed. It was almost hard to believe how much time had passed. “I know Seungcheol is a good person, he just needs a little… clarity. I mean he's extremely kind and giving, he just tends to miss the important things and you just have to help keep his head on straight is all.”
Oh my god. Oh you had so greatly misread this before. “I agree.”
Seungcheol returned to find you attempting to hide a smirk and Minghao with a distant look in his eyes. A lot can happen in a moment.
“You’ve made a lot of progress.” The god of death gestured to the nearly finished crown in your hands.
You looked down at your hands to find that you had, in fact, made a lot of progress. You suppose the gossip made your fingers work faster. “It seems I have.”
Seungcheol sat beside you, leaning over your shoulder to watch you weave the flowers in a neat and well thought out pattern. You had gotten incredibly good at this.
“You're alright, Flora? Seungcheol glanced at the younger god.
“Hm? Oh.” Minghao was pulled from his memories. There was that name again. Did the other know what it did to him? “I'm fine. Just thinking.”
“Okay…” Seungcheol just barely caught the knowing smirk that tugged at your lips. Oh? Well… he supposed it was only a matter of time. You were far too smart to hide such things from you.
“All done!” You chirped, holding up the finished crown.
“It's lovely.” Seungcheol complimented as you reached out to place the crown on his head.
“A crown fit for a king.” You beamed.
“Oh.” Seungcheol gasped dramatically. “But my queen does not have a crown.” He placed his hand on your head to add emphasis.
“I've had many.” You fall back into your spot but facing Seungcheol this time. “They all die after a few hours.” You sighed.
Seungcheol felt a pang in his heart. Nothing is made to last, especially not in the place where everything meets its end. “I'm sorry about that, kardia mou.”
“Oh it's fine.” Your gaze fell upon Seungcheol's crown. The petals were already wilting. It normally took another hour or so for that to start. “It just gives me an excuse to make more…”
Seungcheol realized what had caught your attention, removing the crown from his head. It was already dying. “Maybe I shouldn't wear it?”
“No no.” You pushed his hands back up. “It'll die anyway. You should wear it, otherwise there was no point in making it at all.” Your words were sure, but it didn't sadden you any less.
Seungcheol placed the crown back on his head before wrapping his arms around you.
“I'm fine, Cheol.” You pushed at him just slightly.
“Not that.” Seungcheol smiled at you. “I appreciate you dearly.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest. “It's just a crown.” You laughed to fight off the warmth creeping up your face.
“Well you made it, so it's not just a crown.” Seuncheol's brows furrowed. “But in general, I mean. You are my light, you know that?”
“Yes…” You tilted your head as you got lost in the gods eyes. They were all dark and pretty. “Something about being in love with me.” It was supposed to sound significantly more sarcastic than how you said it.
Seungcheol found this amusing, letting out a laugh at your reaction. “I am.” He smiled. “Kardia mou.”
Your face felt hot. Then it occurred to you that there was another person in this garden. You glanced at Minghao who quickly pretended he wasn't just looking. Oh goodness.
“Okay okay.” You patted Seungcheol’s chest as a request to be let go. He did as you wished but not before giving you a squeeze, making you giggle. “No need to be so dramatic.”
Seungcheol smiled at you before glancing at Minghao who gave him a knowing look. He feared that you'd never be happy. How could you be in a place surrounded by sorrow and death? He wasn't even happy. Maybe it was time that he told you.
-
You lost track of how long you had been in the underworld. A significant amount of time had passed, that was for certain. But how much? Thinking about it made you feel weary and upset. You did not want to be upset, but everything seemed to only heighten your feelings of depression. You had hoped that with time your bones would feel light as you laid down to sleep, that the gloomy atmosphere would become less maddening. And most of all, you hoped Seungcheol's companionship would grow to be enough. But with all of his love laid at your feet to do with what you wanted, the thing you longed for most, you could not have.
It made you feel awful. Seungcheol was doing everything in his power to bring you joy, but you were unable to receive it. Ultimately, it was your decision to stay. Your pretentious moral compass is why you are here instead of enjoying your freedom as the king of god's wife. And no one could be blamed for that but yourself. And that understanding only served to make you more miserable.
Then there was the nagging in your heart that begged to spend every moment with the god of death. You had grown quite attached to him after all this time. But your worsening mood distressed him a great deal, so you opted to hide away instead. It painted you, but what else could you do?
Seungcheol noticed. He'd be a fool not to. He now understood that there was nothing he could do to satiate you, because the one thing you wanted, he could not provide. Or… that's what you thought. He never wanted it to come to this, but his heart was breaking for you. You ate less and slept more, hiding from both him and Minghao. He couldn't let this happen. He could not allow you to become a shell of yourself like he had seen many times in the mirror. He'd give anything to make you happy, even his life.
You reluctantly left your bed to answer the tap on your door. Unsurprisingly, you found Seungcheol on the other side, wide eyes peaking through the crack in the door.
“I'm not hungry, Cheol.” You didn't know if it was dinner time yet, but you assumed that was why he was there.
“Kardia mou, may I speak to you for a moment?” Seungcheol ignored the way his heart twisted at your words.
You blinked. You were not in the mood to be scolded for not caring for yourself, nor did you want Seungcheol to see you like this. However, you had not properly seen him in a good few days, intent on hiding yourself away until the worst of it was over, so you had a feeling that the god wouldn't really take no for an answer. So you backed away from the door, tugging it open with a sigh.
Your room was dark. Much darker than Seungcheol kept any room in the castle. Curtains fully drawn, all candles put out. Completely shrouded in darkness.
You sat on your bed, feeling a bit awkward. This was embarrassing. And Seungcheol… something was amiss with him. It made you anxious.
“I'm just going to get to the point. I have not been completely honest with you.” Seungcheol sat beside you, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't know how you would take this. He feared the different possibilities of your reaction. “there is another way to obtain your freedom.”
You blinked at him, and then burst out laughing. That was hysterical. “Seungcheol,” you said between breaths, “There's no need to say such ridiculous things, I think my humor is very tasteful for a human.”
Seungcheol's brows pinched together. “I'm being serious, ____. Please listen to me.”
“Okay okay. I'll listen.” You rolled your eyes. You hadn't meant to be so short with him, but you should never push a good joke too far.
“The same rules apply, a life for a life.” Seungcheol continued, fully aware that you were not taking him seriously. If he could just get to the point. “When the dead find themselves down here, more often than not they will refuse to accept their fate. So they were given one more opportunity for a second chance at life. Anyone who can kill me is set free.”
You felt as if your soul had just been ripped from your body. Your heart constricted at the thought. “That's not funny, Seungcheol.”
“I'm not joking.” He grabbed your arm to ensure that you were listening. “If you kill me-”
“No.” You pushed him away, your voice shaking. “You should've kept it to yourself because there is no chance-” a sob ripped through your chest. What a horrible thing to say. You refused to take any other life, why would his be any different? “How could I do such a thing?”
Seungcheol moved to the floor, kneeling in front of you. “Because I put you here. You are miserable and it is entirely my fault.” He was pleading with you. Dark eyes begging you to take his offer. “I brought you here because of my own selfishness. It's like one of your stories. The monster who kidnapped the princess is slain, and everyone gets their happily ever after.”
You only cried more. “No!” You shouted. “You are not a monster! But you are fucking insane if you'd think I'd ever do such a thing!”
“I am literally the villain, ____.” Seungcheol stood to his feet. He is the source of all of your problems, you should want him dead as much as the desperate souls at the court. “Take my life the way I took yours.”
“No!” It was almost impossible to see him through your tears. The way your heart thumped in your chest was painful. All of this was painful. “Seungcheol, I love you. Please stop this.”
Seungcheol's ears rang hearing your words. Was it insane to be angry at the words he had longed to hear from your lips? Not at you, no. But at himself. “No…” he sighed. “You don't.”
“Yes I do-”
“No you don't.” He insisted.
Now you were angry. “How can you be sure?” How could he tell you how you felt?
“Do you know how long you've been stuck here?” Seungcheol looked down at you.
You shook your head. You didn't want to think about it.
“I'm sure you stopped counting at some point, the growing number must've depressed you greatly.” He continued, his tone somewhat condescending. But you could still hear his guilt as clear as day.
“What does that have to do with this?” You tried to make your voice stable, but to no avail. It was pointless when your lips quivered so violently.
“Five hundred and twenty two.” The god spoke in a grave tone. So much time. “Five hundred and twenty two days have passed on earth. That's well over a year.” Seungcheol could see the reality setting in. You had been trapped for so long and you hadn't even realized. “You don't love me, your mind is just desperate for a connection of some kind.”
Knowing the exact amount of time made you feel sick. But that was irrelevant. Because you knew what your heart was telling you. This was not delusion or desperation.
“I could say the same thing about you.” You found the strength to stand up and face him properly. “You never loved me, you're just lonely.”
“____.” The tone of his voice left no room for argument. The mere suggestion was upsetting.
“Not great is it?” You huffed. “I know what I want, Cheol.” You grabbed at his robes. “Please do not deny me this.”
Seungcheol grabbed your hand, holding it to his chest. “This won't make you happy.” He breathed in, closing his eyes. “I can't make you happy.”
“But we won't be alone.” You leaned into him hoping to find comfort, and perhaps provide him with some. “I want to get married.”
Seungcheol wrapped his arms around you, no longer willing to argue with you. “You're sure?”
“You brought me here to make me your queen, it's time that you did it I think.” The thought of a wedding made you smile. A gorgeous dress and a massive bouquet of flowers. It wouldn't be a grand event by the water like you always wanted, but it would be yours no less.
Seungcheol smiled at you, soft and tired. “Anything you want, kardia mou.” He thinks he's being selfish. He wanted this more than anything, his desires making him relent sooner than he should've. But there was no point in arguing with you. So stubborn. But that just made it clear what he needed to do. Until then, he would indulge this fantasy.
-
You stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hands grabbing at your skirts as anxiety filled you. It had only been around a week since the proposal, the preparations being made quickly. Anything you asked for, you got. Even guests. You truthfully didn't think there'd be anyone to bear witness besides Demeter, but out of pure curiosity a handful of gods showed up to see who married the god of the underworld.
“You're going to wrinkle your dress, darling.” Minghao swatted your hands away from the garment. He was fixing your hair with a particularly beautiful flower crown that he concocted just for today.
“I'm so nervous, Hao.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. You were actually getting married. And to a god! It was terrifying and exciting all at once.
“Shua!” Minghao called for the other god in the room.
“Smell this, sweetheart.” Hestia approached with an open vial, holding it to your nose.
You did as instructed, the strong odor immediately filling your nostrils. “What is that?” You blinked as you immediately began to feel the effects.
“Valerian root.” He capped the vial. “Eases the nerves.”
“I can tell.” You sighed. It was extremely effective.
Hestia, or Joshua, was tasked by Minghao to help get you ready for the ceremony, and so far he was doing an excellent job. You fully cried when you saw your makeup, you'd never felt so beautiful before. Then you felt terrible because they had to reapply it.
“Seungcheol is going to fall apart at the seams when he sees you.” Minghao reassured.
“He really is so lucky.” Joshua added. “I can see why Jeonghan is having a fit back upstairs.”
“Is he still mad about that?” Your eyes widened slightly. Surely he has someone new to obsess over by now?
“Oh he's just having a bit of a tantrum. He's never ‘lost’ before, and to Hades of all people.” He laughed. Then his eyes widened a bit. “I mean Cheol is wonderful, but humans think of him as some kind of villain and Zeus is so incredibly full of himself.” He elaborated.
“I'm aware.” You sighed. You think being so upset is unwarranted. He could have anyone he wanted, he'd be okay without one.
“If he doesn't calm himself it's going to flood up there.” Minghao scoffed. “I swear if I have extra work to do because of him.” The god of harvest clearly had no patience for the elder’s spoiled behaviors. “Acting a fool because he's all powerful. Sure your tantrums are a real show of strength and authority, you've really put us in our places.” He rolled his eyes.
“Oh.” Your brows shot up to your hairline. “Bad blood?”
“No.” He sighed. “I'm just sick of him is all. He's childish and it's tiring.”
“He's… got an ego” Joshua furrowed his brows.
“Shuaaa.” Minghao whined, unhappy with the elders sugar coating.
“It is a happy day, let's not speak of personal issues.” Joshua scolded.
“Right. You are right.” Minghao added the finishing touches to your hair. “I'm sorry, darling. I don't mean to bring up negative things.”
“It's okay.” You smiled at him in the mirror. “A little gossip is good for the soul.”
“Oh sweetie, Dionysus is here. I promise you will have plenty to gossip about.” Joshua laughed.
“Is the god of festivities being at my wedding a good sign?” You tilted your head to the side.
“It's a fun sign.” Minghao leaned over your shoulder, pressing his cheek to yours. “This will surely be an event talked about amongst Olympians for a long time.”
You especially thought so with how he prepared everything, single handedly providing you the wedding of your dreams and then some. You'd think he was the god of weddings if you didn't know any better.
You turned around, pulling the god of harvest into a hug. “Thank you for everything.” You were truly so grateful to have such a thoughtful person by your side.
“Of course, ____.” Minghao reciprocated the hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “Anything for you, my beautiful flower.” And he meant anything. Spending so much time with you has solidified you as a permanent fixture in his heart, understanding Seungcheol's infatuation in a way he never thought would happen. It upset him deeply to see you like a caged animal and he would do anything to alleviate that even just a little.
-
Seungcheol cried. The god of death had tears streaming down his face as you walked down the aisle, completely overwhelmed with possibly every emotion akin to joy, and love, and the feeling that after all this time he'd finally gotten something he wanted. You smiled at him so beautifully and perfectly, absolutely glowing in your white dress. Your beauty was hypnotizing, Seungcheol just barely registered the chorus of gasps that erupted when you came out.
They all could see it clear as day. The woman who chose Hades above all. A lot prettier than they thought you'd be, and a kind soul glowing like none they'd seen before. If it weren't for the genuine love in your eyes a few of them would've bet that this was some kind of ruse.
The moment you stepped up to the altar, you reached out to wipe the tears from Seungcheol's face.
“You're so beautiful.” He leaned into your touch, completely in awe of you.
“High compliment from someone so handsome.” You smiled. The red dusting his cheeks endeared you a great deal.
You think that in the past you have purposely ignored Seungcheol's beauty, intent on not flustering yourself with stray thoughts. It only made sense that he was god, because his beauty could only be described as divine. And it was all yours.
“Okay, let's start shall we?” A cheerful voice came from beside you. You turned to find a gorgeous face with an equally gorgeous smile. “I'm Eros and I will be blessing your marriage, it is wonderful to finally meet you, ____.”
“Has everyone heard of me?”Your brow quirked. You couldn't help but ask.
“Oh yes, you have caused quite the stir upstairs.” Eros’s eyes sparkled as he spoke. “And from what I can tell it is not for nothing, you are stunning.”
“You can gossip later, Seokmin.” Seungcheol interrupted.
“Eros. I'm working.” The god of love corrected. “But it's no matter, this will be quick.”
Then Kkuma came waddling down the aisle with a pillow on her back. On top sat two rings. Seungcheol gave her a pat on the head as he took one, and you did the same.
“Do you, ____, take Hades, god of the underworld, to be your husband for all of eternity?”
“I do.” You beamed.
“Do you, Hades, take the beautiful ____, to be your wife and queen of the underworld for all of eternity?”
“I do.” Seungcheol gently lifted your left hand and slid your ring onto your ring finger and you did the same for him.
“Then by the power vested in me, I bless this marriage to be happy, loving, and fruitful.” Eros clapped his hands together and you swore you could see stars floating right above you. “You may kiss the bride.”
Your lips met Seungcheol's in a soft kiss that you wished could've lasted forever, but you still had guests to entertain.
When the reception started, Apollo, the god of all things music, offered to sing a song as a gift. You felt it would be foolish to deny his offer, so you happily accepted and asked if he could sing during the first dance. He agreed.
He sat atop one of the many tables set up in the garden, and began to sing a song about a love destined to be. Soon a chorus of instruments followed his lead, you heard many sounds that you were sure were not where to be found in the band. It was truly unlike anything you had ever heard, and you felt so blessed to hear it.
You held your husband close as you swayed to the music, taking extra care to not step on his toes because you had not danced properly in quite some time.
“I think that this is the perfect moment.” You smiled at Seungcheol, eyes sparkling and full of emotion.
“You do?” He looked at you with curious eyes. “How come?”
You looked around the beautifully decorated garden, letting the heavenly music fill your soul. Then you looked at your groom, his soft smile and loving gaze bringing tears to your eyes.
“It's a dream come true,” you said simply.
“Mm.” Seungcheol hummed in understanding. “Well I think that every moment with you is perfect.” He leaned in, pressing his face to yours before pecking you on the cheek.
“You really can't help yourself can you?” You teased him for his cheesy remarks.
“You know that I can’t.” He pouted.
You found him utterly adorable, completely enamored with him and everything he did. You laid your head on his shoulder, just enjoying the moment as the song continued. And then, as the instruments quieted down leaving only Apollo's voice as the song came to its end, Seungcheol pulled back just slightly in favor leaning you into a dip, and kissing you so slow and sweet that you thought you would melt.
-
You were warned that a reception full of gods would be a party like no other, but you were not prepared for just how many of them would be so interested in you. You also found it rather difficult to recall all of their preferred names, only one or two really sticking with you.
Your eyes narrowed as you looked at the gods standing in front of you. You pointed to Dionysus, hoping that the name on the tip of your tongue was correct. “Mingyu?”
The gods cheered, Dionysus raising his goblet of wine into the air as he howled in victory. You weren't sure why they were so excited by you remembering their names, but you did not question it.
Your eyes landed on Aphrodite who looked at you expectantly. You couldn't remember. His name evaded you like prey does a predator. “Oh my…” your brows furrowed. It had out ran you.
Aphrodite gasped and leaned over, placing his palms on the table that you sat at. “You remember that drunk's name but you can't remember mine?” He aggressively pointed at Dionysus.
“I'm sorry, but there are so many of you.” You apologized. “Please tell me again and I will make sure that I remember this time.” You held your hands together to emphasize your sincerity.
The god of beauty looked down at you, unsure, but he ultimately gave in. “Chan.” He sighed. “It's only one syllable so it should be rather easy to remember.” He stood up straight and crossed his arms.
“Thank you, Chan.” You smiled at him and the god could hardly find it in himself to hold it against you.
“If you don't remember it next time, I'll turn your hands into paws.” He threatened with zero intention of following through. You could tell, laughing at the warning.
“I will surely remember, your divineness.” You said between laughs.
“Are you trying to intimidate my wife, Chan?” Seungcheol came up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders.
“I'm just making sure she remembers the prettiest face at the party.” Aphrodite huffed before walking away.
Seungcheol narrowed his eyes at the gods that were just trying for your attention as he leaned down, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “You tell me if they're bothering you.” He whispered, his lips hovering by your ear.
“Oh no, they've been so nice.” You turn your head to smile at him. “Where did you go?”
Seungcheol hadn't left your side the entire time until he suddenly excused himself, leaving his acquaintances to entertain you. He was gone for a bit longer than you thought he'd be, so you asked out of pure curiosity.
“Just making sure our room was ready for us.” He pressed his face to yours.
The words echoed in your head, causing heat to creep up your face. Your mind wandered far off thinking about what your first night together would entail. And the night after, and the one after. Oh goodness. You could only hum and peck your husband on the lips, unable to find words to express yourself.
Seungcheol was not satisfied with just a peck, pulling you into a deep, wanton kiss. “We should just sneak away now.” He said when he finally broke away, allowing you to catch your breath.
You blinked, flustered. “That’s being a bad host.” You reasoned.
“And I care why?” Seungcheol was not concerned with entertaining the guests. He was more worried about his beautiful wife and consummating this marriage.
You opened your mouth to scold him about having manners when a loud voice cut off your train of thought. You turned to find Dionysus standing on a table and singing a song off key. Eros leaped onto the table and linked arms with the drunken god as he joined him in singing. Soon enough everyone was singing and dancing, and Minghao pulled you out of your seat to dance with him. Seungcheol tried to stay on the sidelines but you would not allow it, pulling him up with you. Everyone cheered as the antisocial god joined in, forming a circle around the two of you.
Then there was a crash. Everyone stopped, looking over to find Dionysus on the floor. He had fallen off of the table.
“Oh goodness, is he okay?” You peered past everyone to get a better look.
Eros and Apollo helped him up, lugging the inebriated god on their shoulders. “He's fine!” Seokmin assured you. “He's just got a bad habit of over indulging!” He smiled sheepishly.
“We should take him back upstairs.” Apollo mumbled.
Shortly after Dionysus’s departure, the party died down and everyone began to take their leaves. Once the garden was clear Seungcheol wasted no time grabbing you up and bringing you inside.
You giggled as you fell onto the plush bed of the new room, Seungcheol crawling on top of you and kissing up your jaw before moving to your lips. The room was dimly lit with candles, creating a warm and comforting environment. It made you feel comfortable and safe, easing your mind of the nerves crawling up your body.
He removed your dress, leaving you bare before removing his own robes. You marveled at his body, a strong solid figure that was near impossible to imagine beneath his clothing. And then his lips were on you again, praising your beauty as he kissed down your body.
He was everywhere. His hands holding your hips, his tongue licking at your core. All you could do was moan and whine at the foreign sensations. Then he was inside of you, his movements slow and gentle as you adjusted to him. With every breath in his lungs he uttered words of love and praise. And you could hear his heart, the way it pounded in his chest, the sound growing louder with each passing second. You could only just barely acknowledge it, your mind completely overwhelmed by the god above you, by the pleasure he was bringing you. It was all too much, but in all the best ways. You wished that it would never end.
-
When your eyes opened, you weren't quite ready to be awake, so you closed then again. But your husband had other plans, peppering kisses all over your face before you could hide away under the covers.
“My beautiful wife.” Seungcheol smiled before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
You couldn't help smiling as well, blinking away the blearyness in your eyes. You felt significantly less tired as he pulled you closer to him, the feeling of him pressed against you reminding you of all that happened just the night before.
“My sexy husband.” You pushed his back onto the bed before crawling on top of him. You leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss.
Seungcheol happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your bare waist. The feeling of your body against him was beyond anything he could've imagined, and he feared that he could never get enough. He pushed you to your limits last night, bringing you to the brink until you could no longer keep your eyes open. Seeing you fall apart beneath him felt like a treasure that he had not earned, but he still indulged in, unable to stop himself.
“I love you.” He whispered when your lips left his.
“I love you.” You smiled, scooching down a bit so you could lay your head against his chest. The steady beat of his heart tapped against your ears, the familiar sound drawing you impossibly closer to the man beneath you.
After a moment of lying there, you decided that you no longer wished to just lie there. Pushing yourself up, you began trailing kisses down Seungcheol's neck. They started as light pecks, but it wasn't long before you were leaving marks. Seungcheol groaned, happy to let you do as you liked. How could he complain as your soft, warm mouth traveled lower and lower.
-
Seungcheol basically had to drag you out of bed so that you could clean up and eat something. You were very tired, and when you weren't sleeping you were trying to have sex, making you more tired. It took everything in him, but he denied your begging for the sake of your health.
You stared at the god of death as you ate, eyes wide and curious.
“What's on your mind, my love?” Seungcheol tilted his head in question.
“I can hear your heart.” You abandoned your bowl of grapes to place your hand on your husband's chest. “It’s quiet now, but sometimes it's louder. Why is that?”
“Why can you hear it?” Seungcheol asked and you nodded. He placed his hand over yours, a gentle smile on his face. “Because you are my heart.”
“I want an actual reason.” You scoffed, turning your head to hide the fact that you were flustered.
“I'm being serious, kardia mou.” Seungcheol reached out to cup your face, turning you to look at him once again. “Love is a powerful thing.”
“Right…” You narrowed your eyes at your husband. “Can you hear my heart?”
“If I focus. But that's because I need to be aware of when hearts stop.” Seungcheol sighed. He leaned close to you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Our love has granted you different abilities.”
“Abilities?” You blink. “Marrying you gave me abilities?”
“Well it sure seems that way.” The god found your confusion amusing. “You are officially one with the underworld, one with me. My queen. Such status deserves special gifts, no?”
If you could not hear the sound of his heart thrumming with mirth in that exact moment, you'd have called him a liar. The thought of you having powers was absurd, but you supposed it wasn't anything crazy. Just being able to hear the way your lover's heart beats for you. So simple, but so lovely all the same.
“I could get used to it.” You whispered, closing the gap between the two of you once again.
-
Seungcheol may have over indulged. He had not intended for an entire week to have gone by, but it was so easy to get lost in you. How could he even think of anything other than you? Not when you were right there, loving him unconditionally, asking nothing but for him to stay by your side. But it could not continue like this. Not when your mind was returning to reality, and you were accepting the fact that this bubble you created in your shared room was bound to pop.
“Kardia mou, you know I love you.” Seungcheol started, the burden of his resolution weighing on his chest.
Your brows furrowed as you looked at your husband, not sure why he sounded so sorrowful. “Of course. And I love you.” The two of you were laying in bed with sleep tugging at your bones, but a rush of worry and confusion had you wide awake. “Is something wrong?” You sat up from where you were snuggled into his side.
Seungcheol sat up with you, cursing in his mind. He did not mean to worry you. “Well no. I just want you to know that, and that everything I do is for you and your happiness.” He mustered a smile, though it wasn't hard when he was looking at you.
You were sure that something was bothering him. Does he still feel guilty about bringing you down here? “I know, my love.” You held his face in your hands, leaning in close to him. The glimmer in his eyes was unfamiliar. “I know.”
“You won't always understand it, the things I do.” Seungcheol continued, leaning into your touch. He wished he could remain there forever. You were his safety, his comfort in his miserable existence. “But just know that it's because I love you. I love you more than anything.”
This could not possibly be about kidnapping you. There is no way. “Seungcheol, we are married. You cannot possibly still feel guilty about my being here.” You sighed. You wished that you could rewire his brain, fix whatever it was whispering his past sins to him.
The god of death blinked, your annoyance breaking him from his thoughts. “Is it so wrong for me to want only the best for my love?” He tried to jest about it, but you weren't having it.
“How many times must I say that I chose this? I could've ran off with Zeus, but instead I am here. I am here with you, because I love you. I don't know how much time must pass before you believe me, but I-” You stopped to take a breath. You thought it was ridiculous. You are not a damsel in distress, and you are not some sort of victim. And if he could just stop acting like he was a villain of some kind.
Seungcheol wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. “I did not mean to upset you, kardia mou. I know that you chose me, that you love me.” That was the problem. And there was no changing your mind. You would stay with him for an eternity, no matter how depressing it may be. “I just don't think that I deserve it.”
It was the truth. You could hear it in voice, in his heart. It made your own heart ache. “Seungcheol.” Your hands fell to his shoulders, gripping at his robes. “What can I do?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.
“You've done more than enough.” Seungcheol's hold around you grew tighter, his strong arms holding you close to him. “I never thought that anyone could love me, but now I have you, and I am the happiest I have ever been.”
“I made you happy?” The thought brought you some comfort. Seungcheol had many wounds that ran deeper than you could ever know, but if you could do just one thing, bringing him the happiness he had hoped your presence would provide was quite the achievement.
“I could die.” He smiled, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours. When he was satisfied with the smile on your lips, he kissed you.
It was so soft and warm. Even more so when his tongue prodded your lips open, licking into your mouth as if had never tasted something so sweet. Seungcheol’s hands traveled the expanse of your body, pushing and pulling the fabric of your robes so that he could feel your skin. It was only a matter of time before the clothing came completely undone.
You reveled in the way he worshipped you. His mouth and fingers made sure that every part of you was committed to memory as he praised your beauty. Big, rough hands that made you feel oh so small in his hold, squeezing at your softest parts.
Oh Seungcheol loved how you melted under his touch. How you looked at him with big eyes glimmering with want as the tips of his fingers traced lines and curves of your body getting lower, and lower. Then he dipped between your folds, so warm and wet, pleased with the sigh of satisfaction that fell from your lips. And when his fingers began to circle your sensitive bud causing you to moan into his ear, he could've sworn you were an angel singing to him.
Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, pleasure shooting through your body. “Seungcheol,” you sighed, your head lolling back as his dipped low to mouth at the swell of your breast. He hummed at the call of his name, his lips leaving you for only a second so that he could see your blissed out expression. “I want you inside,” you pleaded. You were sure you could come like this, but the ache inside of you was too great. You needed to be filled.
Seungcheol had half a mind to tease you, to let you writhe and beg for it as he continued like this. But he could never deny you, not in a million years. So he fulfilled your request, pushing his long, thick fingers inside of you. “Like this, baby?” he whispered.
“Mhm.” You hummed, burying your face into his neck.
Your fingers wrapped around his bicep, nails digging into the thick muscle. You could feel his arm flex as his fingers curled inside of you. You felt you could never grow tired of this, of him. Your perfect lover who made you feel so good. And he was so eager to please you, so eager to give you what you wanted. You were more than willing to accept, only a little afraid that it might go to your head. But even then, you don't think that he would mind at all.
“Oh god, Seungcheol,” you moaned, his name like a prayer on your tongue as the pressure inside of you reached its peak.
“Close, baby?” Seungcheol breathed out. Just the thought of seeing you come undone sent a shiver through his body. You were like a drug to him. Hearing you pant in his ear, begging and praying for him to give you what you desired. It made his head spin. “Show me. Show me how good I make you feel.”
A few more pumps and you were falling apart, your release washing over you in waves. You felt so high, ecstasy lifting the weight from your bones. Seungcheol lifted his hand, bringing his fingers to his lips and licking them clean.
After no more than a moment to catch your breath you were leaning in, your tongue diving into your lover's mouth with desperation and desire motivating you. Your hands caressed his body, feeling and groping at every muscle you reach. And slowly you moved lower, your fingers wrapping around his stiff girth, fully erect just from pleasuring you.
Seungcheol let out a low groan as you stroked him, his brows furrowing in pleasure. You took great pleasure in making him moan like this, hearing his labored breaths as you made him fall apart. And as much as Seungcheol loved when you wanted to do for him as he does for you, he was intent on filling you up tonight. So he grabbed your hand, pressing your knuckles to his lips as his other hand gently guided your hips to straddle him. Then he was sliding into you slowly, paying close attention to the way you gasped at the feeling of him stretching you open.
Seungcheol swears he could make love to you forever. Feel your body tense and relax at his fingertips; the warmth of your heat wrapped around him; your sweet sounds and cries of his name. If he could make you fall apart every hour of the day, he would. Unfortunately he does not have forever to make your bodies one, so he'll just have to see how many times he can bring you to the brink tonight.
“So beautiful.” Seungcheol panted in your ear as your hips ground against him. The swivel of your hips drove him mad. You were perfect to him. Every move you made, every moan you uttered. Your beautiful soft skin, pretty plush lips. So so perfect. “My perfect girl,” he groaned.
“Cheol.” You moaned. The way he stretched you out felt so heavenly. He fit so snug, every inch of him filling you so perfectly. You could feel him everywhere, in you and all around you. The sound of his heartbeat echoed in your ears adding yet another sensation to drown in. But you still craved more, desperately pressing your bodies closer together, needing to feel every inch of his skin against yours. “Fuck it feels so good.”
Your knees were growing weak and you found it difficult to keep your movements steady. Seungcheol fully took over, holding your body steady as he continued to fuck into you. He praised you for how well you were doing, how well you were taking him. It was only a matter of time before you were falling apart, your muscles tensing and relaxing as you came around your lover. Then he was grinding into you and with just a few more thrusts, he spilled inside of you.
You held onto each other tightly as you came down from your highs, your bodies relaxing and melting into one another. That’s when you noticed a wetness on your shoulder, and it wasn't sweat (or any other fluids). Then there was a sniffle. You pulled back slightly, holding your lover's face in your hands. He tried to hide his teary eyes, but you had already seen him.
“What's wrong, my love?” Your brows furrowed with concern.
Seungcheol took a deep breath and gave you a soft, teary smile. “I just love you so much, and I wish I could spend forever with you.”
You could not understand what was going through his mind. His words made no sense, and his tears confused you. “You can. We have eternity to be together.” You wiped away his tears, only for more to fall. It broke your heart to see him cry. It upset you that you couldn't understand him.
“You’re right.” He leaned into your touch. “I just find it hard to believe.”
Seungcheol could not tell you what weighed on his heart. You would protest him until he swore to never mention it again. But it was no matter, it would be over soon. And you may curse him afterwards, but that was okay too.
He held you close, lowering the two of you onto the mattress. His hands and mouth were all over you, making it extremely hard to focus on anything else. Not to mention he hadn't pulled out and the slight shifting was driving you mad.
“Can you show me, kardia mou?” Seungcheol begged with glistening eyes. “Please show me it's real.”
There was no way you could deny him, not when his hips began to rock against you. If this would prove it, you would show him again and again. And you did. All night long you gave yourself to him. You let him move you, and fold you, and fill you until you could no longer stay awake. Then you fell asleep in his arms. He held you so tight that you thought you might actually fuse. You drifted off to the thought of a forever with him where you were both happy and at peace. A forever you hoped would one day become a reality.
-
Your eyes scrunched as the morning sunlight washed over your face. You buried your head beneath the cover to hide from it before realizing that something wasn't right. Sunlight… when was the last time you saw sunlight? You sat up, your eyes squinting at bright light. You blinked around the room, the incredibly brightly colored room. It was familiar, but your mind was so frazzled you couldn't put your finger on it. You were also very clothed, and very clean. You were neither of those things when you went to sleep. Your brows furrowed as you climbed out of bed to explore the strange environment.
You wandered out of the room, the smell of food pulling you through the house until you found a woman hovering over a pan, humming as she cooked what looked like fried eggs. In that moment, you knew exactly where you were. You were home. Not the home you made for yourself in the underworld, no. You were on earth. And that woman is your mother.
You think that you're dreaming. You must be. But even with that knowledge, you begin to tear up. “Mama?” You question hesitantly, afraid that she might disappear if you weren't careful.
She turned to you, smiling. “____, you're awake. I'm just frying some eggs so that you'll be energized this morning.” She lifted the pan so she could scoop the eggs onto a plate. “You've got to wash the herd today, they've been sweating since it's been warming up.”
“Yeah, of course.” You only caught half of what she said, pulling her into your arms as she was reaching to hand you your food. “I love you, mama.”
She was surprised by your sudden affections but she reciprocated no less, wrapping her free arm around you and holding you close. “I love you too, sweet girl.” She pushed away a little to get a good look at your face, she was very concerned to find that you were on the brink of tears. “Is something wrong?”
How do you explain that you've been stuck in the land of the dead for well over a year, and that you haven't seen her in just as long? She wouldn't get that. She's just a figment of your imagination anyway.
“I'm just so happy to see you.” You wiped your eyes.
“Honey, you saw me before bed?” She tilted her head in confusion. Were you sick? You did look a little pale. She felt your head but you didn't have a fever. In fact, you felt a bit cold. “Are you sure you're alright? The sheep can wait a few days if you need to rest.”
“No mama, I'm fine.” You took the plate from her before sitting down at the table. Significantly smaller than the one you had become accustomed to, but it brought you great joy to eat at it. Just being in your quaint little house rather than the gloomy castle made you feel like you were floating.
You spent the rest of the morning convincing your mother that you were not delirious, and then explaining why there was a ring occupying your left hand. You decided to tell her that it was an engagement gift, and that you were hoping for her to meet him soon and receive her approval. She hollered about you not having introduced her sooner, but happily agreed to still give this man a look over. The thought made you giggle. You wondered if Seungcheol would appear in this dream as well.
Just as you were getting ready to head out and clean the sheep, your mother insisting that you take a large satchel of drinking water with you, there was a knock on the door. You wondered if that would be Seungcheol. Or maybe someone else from your old life. You opened the door, unable to hide your surprise upon seeing Minghao.
You squinted your eyes at the god, taking in his teary eyes as well the large bouquet of flowers he held.
“Who is that!?” Your mother shouted from somewhere in the house. “Is that your fiance!?”
“No, mama! It's a friend!” You extinguished her curiosity before fully stepping outside and closing the door. “Now what could this possibly be about?” You gnawed on your lip, unsure of the story your mind had conjured up. An uneasy feeling tugged at your gut. It was starting to feel real.
“I know this is a little strange.” Minghao started.
“Isn’t it?” You gave him a once over as you began walking out to the field where your sheep frolicked. He seemed so upset. “This feels so weird. I think I'm dreaming.”
Minghao followed behind you, concern painting his features. “Darling, this is not a dream. You are on earth.”
“Right…” It was definitely weird… but that couldn’t be true. There wasn't any way for you to actually go home. “What are you doing here then?”
“____.” He grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. “You have to know that this is real? I know it's confusing but you know that it's true.”
A sense of dread tugged at your heart as you looked at Minghao. His eyes were red and his face was puffy. He'd been crying, seemingly a lot. Why was he crying? “Okay if this,” you gestured to grassy fields and open sky, “is real, how did I get here?”
“You know the rule.” Minghao subconsciously held the flowers a bit tighter.
“But I didn't give up anyone.” Your heart began to pound your chest. Had the air grown thicker? Why was it harder to breathe?
“You didn't have to.” Minghao repressed the urge to start crying again. He was supposed to have it all together before he came to you. “He gave himself.”
“Who?” You grabbed onto the distressed god, fear wracking through your body. “Minghao, who?” Your voice shook. The answer sat at the very front of your mind, but he wouldn't do that to you, he wouldn't hurt you like that. “Minghao?” Your lungs burned as tears already began to well from your eyes.
Minghao took a deep, shaky breath. “Seungcheol just wanted you to be happy.”
If it weren't for the fact that you could hear it pounding in your ears, you would've sworn that your heart had stopped at that very moment. For just a second, as you fell to the ground, you could not feel it at all. But then you could feel everything. It hurt. It hurt so bad. It felt as if it were being torn in two.
Minghao held you tightly, fully abandoning the items in his hands to comfort you. All resolve he had to not cry shattered as your quiet whimpers grew into screams. He could barely handle his own grief and seeing you beg for it all to be a lie broke his heart.
For several minutes you tried convincing yourself that it wasn't true. That it was some sick joke, or horrid nightmare that your mind had conjured up. But you knew better than that. As you clenched your fist, your nails digging into the palm of your hand and drawing blood, and you could feel the sting of the open air reaching the wound, you knew that it was real.
Your vision began to grow blurry the longer you cried. You don't know how long you sat in the field holding onto Minghao as if he would disappear as well, but it had been a significant amount of hours seeing as the sun was far from where you had last seen it. You didn't have it in you to move, nor did you want to. But your grieving friend insisted that you get back to the house.
You thought about the sheep, but he insisted that he would take care of it. You said that your mother would be concerned if she saw you like this, he said he'd take care of that as well. You worried about him but he shut the thought down immediately. Minghao would not let you worry about anything, he would not allow it. So you let him bring you to your room, and tuck you into bed.
You lied awake for several hours in an attempt to digest what was now your reality. Seungcheol was gone. Dead. The beginning of a proper life with him brought to an abrupt end. And by his own hand.
He must've been alone. You promised to stay with him until the bitter end but he died alone. You wondered if it was painful, or if he regretted it as his last breaths left him. It couldn't have been worth it. You couldn't have been worth it.
You don't know when you fell asleep, but when you opened your eyes you were once again greeted by the sun. Of course you're still here. You never thought you would be disappointed to not wake up in the castle, but knowing why you were here was far too heartbreaking to bear. Just as you moved to hide under the blankets, tears already falling from your eyes, you noticed the flowers Minghao had with him the day before. A pretty bouquet sat in a vase of water. Then you noticed a piece of paper propped against it.
You reluctantly crawled out of bed to reach for the paper before burying yourself right back under the covers. You unfolded the paper and began to cry as you realized what it was. A note from Seungcheol. Your heart wrenched as you began to read it.
Kardia mou,
If you are reading this, that means I am gone. I know you must be rather angry with me for going against your wishes, but I didn't have many options. Your happiness has always been my greatest priority, but my actions only served to hurt you. I have caused you nothing but pain so I decided that the best way to fix it was to remove myself entirely. There is nothing I regret more than bringing you to the underworld. I was an ignorant fool who had not thought of anyone other than myself in a very long time. I assure you, every second I spent with you was my own personal heaven, but I could not continue to enjoy your company while you were suffering in mine. That is why I had to do this. I know it must be hard to understand, but please know that it is because I love you. You are my heart. I may be gone, but as long as you live your life to the fullest, I will live on. I am terribly sorry that I could not give you a proper goodbye, but then this would have been much more difficult than it needed to be. You did not need the stress. I agreed to the wedding so that it could be my last gift to you. But I also think I was being selfish wanting to spend more time with you. I fear that it might've made this whole ordeal much more difficult for you. And for that I apologize. I hope that you can forgive me for everything that I've put you through, but even if you don't, I am satisfied knowing that you are free. You are free, and you will live a beautiful life. My life didn't turn out very bright, but you gifted me a love I could only dream of. Every dark moment I spent alone no longer mattered. And because you gave me that happiness I longed for for so many years, dying for yours is the least I could do. I feel that I have gone on for too long, but I just have so much I'd like to say to you. But I won't burden you with my dramatics any longer. I love you, ____. Far more than you will ever know.
Always and forever yours, Seungcheol.
You could no longer see clearly by the time you reached the end of the note. It all hurt too much. You wanted to ask why he would do this to you. Why would he put you through this pain? Did he really believe you could come out on the other side of this? That you would move on from him? If he wanted to make you happy he should've known that this wasn't the solution. You didn't want freedom. You just wanted him back.
-
Minghao let you wallow for a few days (admittedly he needed the time as well) but you could not stay locked away forever. Not when there were important things to do.
Much to your dismay the god of harvest dragged you outside into the fields, not too far from where the sheep were grazing. You stared at their fluffy wool, appreciative of how clean they were.
“Isn't the fresh air nice?” Minghao took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I've also been hiding away so I really needed this.”
You glanced at him, baffled that he managed so much composure. You felt like you were going to explode at any moment. “You seem to be doing well.” You huffed. You didn't mean to sound so… bitter.
“I’ve… been better.” He took no offense to your tone, fully aware of what heartbreak and grief can do to a person. “I've had a long time to practice composure. Last time Seungcheol made me cry I killed every plant on the planet and let the humans starve for several months.” He chuckled, slightly embarrassed by the memory. “So I think I'm doing a pretty good job keeping it together.”
You blinked, fully turning to face Minghao. “Is that why the stories say the cold season is Demeter's heartbreaking?”
“My heart only broke the first time.” He defended. “Now it serves as a reminder.” The god cleared his throat as he took on a more serious tone. “I truly felt as if my world was ending, so I can only imagine the pain that you are in. But in all my lifetimes, I have learned that it does fade. It will never fully go away, and it never should. It should always be a reminder of what you went through, and how you survived.”
“Can I…” Your voice cracked as your eyes welled up with tears. Every time you dared to think about the future, the future where you would never see your husband again, you could feel your heart shattering all over again. “Can I survive this?”
Minghao moved to sit in front of you and reached out for you, his hands gently holding yours. “You can. You will.” You have to. Seungcheol did not die for you to throw your life away. “Look around, darling! The cold season is over, and spring has arrived!”
With Minghao's declaration rose dozens of familiar little flowers with bowl shaped petals. “I'm sure you felt that being trapped in the land of the dead was the worst thing that could've happened to you. But you survived. And with time and love, you will survive this too. I will make sure of it.”
There was pang in your heart. Not the overwhelming grief you've been suffering through, but something less devastating. As you looked at the god before you, you dared to believe him. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe you will survive this.
You leaned into him, seeking comfort in his arms. You cried a bit longer, but for the first time you felt relief as the tears left you. When you calmed down, Minghao asked you a question that you fully believed you had no actual choice in.
“Would you be up for doing something today, my flower?” His fingers traced invisible patterns into your skin.
“What would we be doing?” You were leaning against his chest, finding comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“We're celebrating Seungcheol up in Olympus. It's only right that his queen be there, don't you think?”
A million things went through your mind upon hearing Minghao's request. You found it somewhat shocking that your late husband was being mourned up above. Everyone seemed to either have problems with him, or were just completely indifferent. But you supposed the death of such an important and prominent figure would shake quite a few people. Then there was the very thought of you going to Olympus. The land of the gods. Just a few days ago you had accepted that the rest of your life would be spent in the underworld, now you're traveling from earth… to Olympus. Bizarre how things can change so suddenly.
“Of course.” You pushed yourself up, dusting off your clothes. You took a deep breath as you looked out onto the field of hellebore flowers. You didn't think that you deserved Seungcheol’s sacrifice, but if you let yourself rot that would be a level of disrespect you could not bear to give him. The very least you could do is live… for him. “I still haven't thanked him.*
Minghao rose to his feet, smiling as he looped your arm with his. “Then we should hurry, we wouldn't want to be late.”
(*＾3＾)/～♡
An: did I break your heart? You legally have to tell me. This turned out a lot longer than I thought it would be and also now a series and I am so excited!
Let me know what you thought, I would love to hear your thoughts! Leave a lil reblog or even send me an ask! Lots of love!
BROKE MY OWN HEART AS SOON AS I WOKE UP BY DECIDING TO READ THIS FIC 😭
this was such a well-written piece that my eyes were reading words faster than what my brain could comprehend
(spoilers, kinda, below the cut)
i really admire the fact that every god in this story is carefully chosen for an svt member!!! (mingyu being dionysus the drunk made me giggle lol) the way you wrote seungcheol is so fitting, even the fact that he would… sacrifice himself to make the ones he love happy, my heart is still mending itself so pls hold ✋🏼😭❤️🩹
i can’t wait for the next parts of the series! thank you for posting this and giving me the honor to read it for free 🥺🤍🤍🤍
love language - TEASER
🌙 starring. Jung Jaehyun x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “I think that’s why I like you so much,” Jaehyun admits. “I know you had no idea who I was when we met. My whole professional basketball thing didn’t mean anything to you; hell, you’ve catered for A-list actors and politicians and all sorts of people. You just treat me like a person, and that's kind of rare. Most people give at least a tiny shit about sports, but you seriously don’t give any.”
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, multiple reader orgasms, pussy eating, fingering, body worship, breast worship, foreplay, slow build up, dirty talk, praise, simp!Jaehyun, mutual orgasms, soft worshipy sex, Jae is low-key obsessed with her, etc… I pet names: (her) angel.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.6k
🍭 aus. athlete!Jaehyun, Private Chef!y/n, strangers to lovers, slowburn, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I don’t know anything about the details of being a private chef or a professional basketball player, but I thought this was a cute concept for fanfic, so here it is :)
teaser
“What’s Jae paying you? Because I will pay more.”
You look over at Johnny, and then your eyes find Jaehyun, who’s watching you from a lounger. He’s been watching you and Johnny a lot, and you realize that Johnny is the man Jaehyun was worried about poaching you.
While you’re not huge into basketball, you know about Johnny Suh. He’s a little older than Jaehyun, and he’s had good contracts for longer, too, so he could definitely afford more for a private chef than rising star Jaehyun.
“I don’t think I’m at liberty to discuss my salary,” you admit.
“That’s a rich person's answer,” Johnny laughs. “Your PR training is kicking in, little Miss Top Cook.”
Jaehyun stands in the periphery of your vision, and he comes to join you at the barbecue.
“You’re trying to poach my chef, aren’t you, Suh?” he asks.
“Maybe.” Johnny only grins. “It would be stupid of me not to try.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not entertaining his monkey business,” you tease.
“That’s my girl,” Jaehyun nods, and a jolt fires through you.
This type of brush with wealth is somewhat new to you. Most private catering events are a one-and-done type of deal, where other prospective clients have no worries about approaching to enquire about your services.
Being a private chef to a basketball star is a whole different ball game - pardon the pun - and you’re becoming increasingly aware that being a cute, young female in this style of industry must be something of a commodity.
Regardless of the money, however, you’re very happy working for Jaehyun, and although he’s given you a few flirty glances, you know he respects you for your talent as a chef, and not just your body. He gives you freedom, and now that you’ve had a taste of that, you’re not willing to give it up- even if a six-foot-plus gorgeous basketball star named Johnny is promising to make all your dreams come true.
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👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday the 26rd of September 2025
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YESSSSS A JAEHYUN FIC FROM NOVA 😍😍😍 i’m so so so excited for this
I know some fic writers get stressed about writing tropes they think are too popular or overdone, and I need you all to know that I just spent 4 hours reading every iteration of the same exact fic plot I could find, and they all brought me an indescribable amount of joy. Listen. Listen. Sometimes you want cakes of many flavours and sometimes you want Nine Carrot Cakes
I am not trying to be disrespectful but sometimes you use big/sophisticated words in your cowboy fic (it's the first one I have read of yours and I am enjoying it a lot!) and it makes me think you use AI or something similar. Again, I do not mean this to be rude but I'm curious if you do.
i use 'big words' because i have a law degree.
puppy boy
🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. You have an ulterior motive with Mingyu, but you’d bet your right arm he has one too. Most of the guys you’ve met who are into you don’t bother with getting to know you, or having similar interests. Men in this day and age have - for the most part - lost their ability to engage in the nuances of wooing, but there’s something about this cute, beefy art major that tells you he might just have what it takes to build something meaningful with you.
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, masturbation, mention of porn addiction, foreplay, ‘weird kinks’, massaging, breast worship, body worship, oral, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, man handling, multiple sex positions, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of voyuerism, degradation, praise, dirty talk, Mingyu is a switchy simp, big cock Mingyu agenda, fingering, etc… I pet names: (his) puppy boy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 5.8k
🍭 aus. Svt cam boy au, frat au, university au, perv!Mingyu, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. This is part 3 of a 3 part cam boy svt au. Each story can be read as a stand-alone, but exists within the same universe :) Wonwoo is April, Seungcheol is May, and this Mingyu fic concludes the series. Find the completed masterlist here.
Prologue:
Mingyu had joined the Sigma Veta Tau frat for brotherhood, and at first, everything had been sunshine and rainbows for the Art major. He’d found friends that he knows will be lifelong mates, and it feels as if his family has truly grown at least another twelve members.
However, things have changed since he joined.
Now, two of his closest friends have started dating, and suddenly, the whole ‘Bros before hoes’ thing has gone out the window.
Mingyu’s not mad about it per se, in fact, it’s kind of nice to see Seungcheol and Wonwoo enjoying life- but there are other factors to consider.
The first factor is that Mingyu no longer seems to have gym buddies. Turns out that tonight, instead of their usual Monday workout, Seungcheol and Wonwoo are at a double date business meeting.
Which leads to factor number two. Wonwoo is a notorious camboy, and Seungcheol’s girlfriend is as well, in fact, Seungcheol’s girlfriend is BabyDoll246, who, up until recently, Mingyu used to watch religiously every time he needed to get his rocks off.
Mingyu doesn’t even know what this whole ‘buisness meeting’ thing is about- Seungcheol is probably doing a presentation for everyone about numbers and aesthetics and how to make a ‘brand,’ because that’s what Seungcheol does. Even though the whole scenario sounds boring, for some reason, Mingyu wishes he was invited.
So things are a little complicated.
Mingyu feels jealous, and left out- and horny… there’s only so much distraction free weights can provide, so in order to distract himself, Mingyu begins to look at the people around him.
Since the gym is on university property, there are a lot of cute girls his age. Most are scantily clad in booty shorts and sports bras, and Mingyu thanks god for feminism and the right to bare skin.
Then his eyes find you.
You’re a frequent gym goer, like him, and Mingyu would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you.
You’re in one of those oversized tshirt and booty short combos that drive Mingyu wild- after all, what does your body look like under the fabric?
He’s got a pretty good imagination, and Mingyu finds himself practically drooling as he watches you do some sets on a shoulder machine.
When you’re done, you stand up, reaching for your water. You turn to look at the gym as you drink, and your eyes meet.
Mingyu is quick to avert his gaze, his skin flushing with embarrassment at having been caught staring.
In an effort to further distract himself, Mingyu moves to the lying barbell section, where he begins to put weights onto either end.
“Hey.” Your voice draws his attention, and Mingyu’s heart almost leaps out of his chest to find you standing right next to him.
“Hi.”
“Where are your friends?” you ask, taking another sip of your water.
“My friends?”
“Yeah, those two guys you’re always here with.”
So you’ve noticed him too. “Oh, uh, they’re on a double date tonight,” Mingyu says shyly.
You nod. “Looks like you need a spotter then.”
“I’ll be okay-”
“The girl I usually come with broke her wrist at volleyball last week, so I’ll need a spotter too,” you tell him. “Maybe we can help each other out?”
Mingyu swallows thickly. “Yeah, uh, okay.”
It feels awkward for him to lie down on the bench, adjusting his hands on the barbell while he looks up at you.
He wonders how well you’d actually be able to spot him if something was to go wrong, but he supposes that’s not the point. In reality, he’s going to be helping you while you’re doing your sets more than you’ll be helping him, but Mingyu doesn’t really mind.
He’s never dropped a barbell in his life, and he’s not about to drop it now with a gorgeous girl looking down at him.
“I’m y/n, by the way,” you say.
“Mingyu,” he responds.
“What’s your major?”
“Art, you?”
“Funny, you don’t look like an artist,” you laugh.
Mingyu cracks a smile. “What do I look like?” he asks.
You shrug. “I don’t know, but not an artist.” Mingyu continues his set and after a moment you speak again. “I’m in nutrition.”
“That explains it,” Mingyu says under his breath.
“Explains what?”
That you’re sexy as fuck.
“Uh, that, well, you know, you work out?” Mingyu stumbles over his words. “I mean, if you’re into nutrition, it makes sense you’re into the gym too.”
“I guess.”
Mingyu can tell from your smirk that you can probably guess his real reasoning, and he can feel his palms getting sweaty- suddenly, holding onto the barbell isn’t as easy as it usually is.
Mingyu realizes he may have overestimated his ability to keep things cool while you’re watching over him, and he pauses his set.
“You good?” you ask.
“Yeah, just uh, need water.”
One:
It’s been a couple of days since you met Mingyu at the gym, and you’re surprised to see him during a trip to the pool.
Once again, the beautiful man is alone, and you wait for him to finish swimming a lap so you can talk to him.
“Hey, stranger,” you grin. “Fancy seeing you here.”
You watch the way he swallows thickly, and you can practically see him fighting the urge to look at your swimsuit.
It’s nothing flashy, after all, you’re here to work out, not to show off. But you know Mingyu’s probably wondering what you look like under your baggy gym shirts, after all, he’s a man, so it’s not like he’s hard to predict.
“Hey,” Mingyu says. “Uh, how have you been?”
You shrug. “Been okay. Do you come to the pool often?”
“Sometimes, if my muscles are sore. You?”
“My kinesiology buddy suggested I implement swimming into my routine, a similar thought pattern to you, better for the muscles and the body.”
You see Mingyu’s attitude shift. “I guess a kinesiology buddy would know a lot about that.”
It takes you a moment, but you realize that Mingyu must think your ‘buddy’ is a man, and that maybe you’re taken or on the precipice of a relationship.
God, Mingyu is so easy to read.
“She’s pretty smart,” you note, “my kinesiology buddy.”
Again, an entire emotional shift in Mingyu, and it would almost be laughable if it weren’t so cute.
This man has a schoolboy crush on you, that much is obvious.
“So… where are your friends?” you ask.
“They’re with their girlfriends,” Mingyu sighs, and you get the sense that he’s not too happy about his workout buddies being more loved up than juiced up.
“Maybe we should just be workout buddies,” you suggest.
Mingyu’s eyes light up. “Yeah?”
You shrug. “Why not? We have similar work out schedules already, it wouldn’t be that difficult to sync them.”
“I’d actually love that,” Mingyu admits, and you love how pretty and glowy he looks.
You have an ulterior motive with Mingyu, but you’d bet your right arm he has one too. Most of the guys you’ve met who are into you don’t bother with getting to know you, or having similar interests. Men in this day and age have - for the most part - lost their ability to engage in the nuances of wooing, but there’s something about this cute, beefy art major that tells you he might just have what it takes to build something meaningful with you.
It’s not that you’re necessarily looking for a relationship, but you wouldn’t say no to one either.
Overall, you just want a connection with a man that’s not solely built on him pressing you for a one night stand, and as horny as Mingyu clearly is, there’s a shyness to him too, a shyness that draws you in.
Two:
Mingyu’s at it again. He’s found a new camgirl to jerk over, but even as he watches the pretty brunette stroke her pussy, his mind keeps wandering to you.
You’ve been workout buddies for two weeks now, and God, there are so many instances and interactions that have gone straight into Mingyu’s spank bank.
There’s something about the way you look when you’re sweating- fuck, Mingyu could just lick it up if that wasn’t such a taboo thing to admit.
Mingyu can’t help himself, he puts his computer to the side, closing his eyes and imagining that you’re the one whimpering and moaning.
Mingyu is man enough to admit that he’s a bit of a pervert. He knows it, he accepts it- he’s ashamed of it sure, but in that shame is something that only arouses him further. A certain type of obsession with self-degradation. He’s a bad boy, and being sinful only makes him harder as he strokes his cock.
He imagines you in the pool with water glistening on your skin- and that image turns into you in the gym doing dumbbells, sweat on your brow.
Mingyu groans, pumping himself harder. He can feel the tension building in his balls, the tingling sensation that’s beginning to brew.
He thinks about the way you encourage him to do more sets, the way he teases you that you’re his ‘drill sargent’ and you’ll sometimes aquiesce by telling him to drop and give you twenty-
Fuck, why are you so sexy?
Why does he want you to tell him what to do all the time?
He imagines what it would sound like if you told him to be a good boy and cum for you- and just like that, he pops.
Mingyu cums hard, a groan escaping him as he fist fucks himself through it, his hips shaking, sweat on his brow-
Mingyu can’t even bring himself to care that he’s cum all over his own chest, and as he finishes, he lets out a sigh, his hands falling to the bed next to him.
He’s so into you, and it’s not just your body. You’re an interesting person, and you’d sensed he needed a gym partner. Your presence has made the lack of Wonwoo and Seungcheol feel better, and that’s not something Mingyu will undervalue.
The only problem is… Mingyu’s one of the horniest men he knows, and he’s aware that his extreme sex drive may just be a problem.
Three:
In the three weeks you’ve been working out with Mingyu, you’ve had enough situational awareness to see how other women in the gym stare at him.
And it’s not like you can blame the other girls, after all, you also used to look at him when he wasn’t going to notice.
Mingyu is hard not to look at, he’s just so big and pretty, and his muscles bulge like nothing else when he’s doing sets.
The two of you are going hard today, and you’ve come to an agreement that for every ten sets you complete, Mingyu gets to ask you a question, and vice versa.
He’s asked you some regular run of the mill things, like your favourite movie, what inspired you to do the degree you’re working on- but then, out of knowhere, Mingyu asks, “Why are you single?”
Mingyu must notice the way you falter, your grip adjusting on the machine, and he’s quick to try to remedy it.
“I just mean, you’re pretty, and nice, and all that sort of stuff, so, I’m just confused,” he says.
“Honestly?” You let out a sigh, trying to tailor your response to intrigue the pretty man. “I have a pretty big drive for physical sensation, if that makes sense. It’s why I gym a lot, and it can be intimidating for guys. Also, I’m not into the whole one-night stand thing, and that seems to be all men want these days.”
“Wait, you’re saying, you’re uh… your sex drive is too big for most guys to handle?” Mingyu chokes.
“I’m just a girl with needs who doesn’t put out unless we’re actually dating,” you shrug.
Hook, line, and sinker.
You can see Mingyu getting hard through his gym shorts, and he coughs awkwardly.
“Uh, let’s switch,” he suggests, and you almost want to laugh.
You acquiesce, and in his newly seated position, Mingyu is able to hide his boner from you, but you’ve already seen it, and confidence is now surging through you.
Mingyu does his first ten reps, and you don’t bother to start with easy questions.
“Why are you single?”
You watch the way Mingyu swallows thickly.
“I uh.. Well, I’ve kind of got, sort of, um, weird tastes.”
“Like what?” you ask, and to your annoyance, Mingyu makes you wait for another full set before answering.
“I guess it’s the sort of thing you kind of have to see for yourself, I don’t know how to explain it.”
“But we’re talking about weird tastes in bed, right?”
Mingyu nods, his ears turning red.
“Look, I just told you I don’t fuck around unless it’s going in the direction of something more than fuck buddies or one night stands,” you tell him. “So, I’d love to see these ‘weird tastes,’ but only if you’re actually interested in something with me.”
It’s been three weeks of getting to know each other, if Mingyu’s not sure what he wants yet, then that’s on him. You’re being direct, and you’re not going to feel bad about that.
“I’m interested,” Mingyu confirms quickly.
“Are you free tomorrow night?” Tomorrow is usually your rest day, and you’ve never really asked what Mingyu gets up to when you’re not at the gym or pool.
“Tomorow would be great,” he confirms.
“Then it’s a date,” you conclude. “Tomorrow you can show me these weird tastes that apparently make it hard for you to find a woman.”
“And maybe you can show me about this whole ‘drive for physical sensation’ thing you have.”
God, your panties are wet just thinking about it.
Four:
It feels a little odd to have Mingyu in your one bedroom on campus apartment. This is uncharted waters, and the usual social map that you use at places like gym and pool is no longer here to guide you.
The two of you know what you’re here to do, but it’s clear you’re both shy about it as you go to sit on your bed.
Being shy isn’t usually something you experience, but you also haven’t had a legitimate dating prospect in a while, especially not one as handsome as Mingyu, so you’re being careful not to mess anything up.
You find yourself lying next to Mingyu, both of you looking up at your ceiling.
“So… tell me about your weird tastes?” you suggest.
He swallows thickly. “What if you tell me some of yours first?”
You laugh. He’s even more shy than you are. “I guess, manhandling is fun. Feeling small and being able to be thrown around is hot.”
Mingyu nods. “I like that you’re smaller than me too. But… I also kind of like that, when we’re at the gym, you get bossy with me.”
This is an interesting development, and you sit up, resting your elbow against the pillow so you can look at Mingyu while you brace your head with your palm. “So you’re not very dominant?”
“Not really,” Mingyu says shyly.
“More into the whole ‘good boy’ thing.”
You note the way Mingyu reacts, his gaze meeting yours, his breath catching. “Yeah.”
“What else?” you prompt. “There has to be something else for people to consider your tastes ‘weird.’” He stays quiet and you lean forward, letting your lips ghost past his ear. “Be a good boy and tell me.”
Mingyu swallows thickly, and you note the way he’s begun to fidget with his fingers where his hands are resting on his chest.
“I guess… I’m really into porn? Which is horrible, I know it’s bad for your brain and stuff, but I really just can’t help myself. There’s this word for it, where you like to watch people-”
“Voyeurism.”
“Yeah, voyeurism,” Mingyu nods. “I don’t know, it’s like… watching other people, and, you know, touching myself while I watch-”
“Lots of people like porn,” you assure him.
“Yeah, but, I watch it a lot.”
He’s looking at you now with an expression you’ve never seen on Mingyu’s face. It’s as if he’s waiting for something, and after a moment, you realize what it might be.
“You like the way it makes you feel,” you note, “how it makes you feel dirty, but you’re also eager to redeem yourself by being a good boy.”
“Exactly. I think it’s also because I’ve been single for a while, I mean, if I’m in a relationship with someone, I don’t think I’ll need to watch as much.”
It’s definitely an interesting kink.
Sinning by watching porn, then proving yourself to be a good boy by doing sexual favours- or at least, that’s what you assume he means.
Mingyu is really just a puppy boy, and there’s something so adorable and endearing about this large, beautiful man, admitting these things to you.
Well, he’s told you he likes when you take control, so you muster up your confidence to take the reins.
“A lot of people in this university make sex videos,” you note. “If you do well tonight, if things go well between us, maybe one day we can make our own videos.”
Mingyu makes a choked sound, and you note the way his cock is starting to rise in his sweatpants. “Really?”
“Maybe, if you do well,” you repeat. “Why don’t…” you trail your finger across his cheek, “you show me what you’ve learned from all these educational videos you’ve watched?”
Mingyu swallows thickly, and then he sits up a little. “Can I kiss you?”
“You can do anything you want.”
Mingyu is slow about it even though he now has permission. His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, and he leans forward, eyes double checking you’re actually okay.
Even though you’d both known you were meeting up to fuck, he’s still being careful about it, and that makes you like him even more. A man who respects boundaries? Husband material for sure.
You appreciate that he’s testing the waters, but you’re eager to dive right in, so you make the final move.
You lean forward, pressing your lips to his eagerly.
Mingyu groans, cupping your face to kiss you back.
He tastes good, and he’s not too forceful with his tongue, which gently strokes your lip to ask for entrance.
As you kiss, he shifts, slowly moving so he can be on top of you. Your legs open for him, and he slots against you.
You can feel how hard he is already, and when you tangle your fingers in his hair, he moans louder against you, rutting gently for stimulation.
Mingyu’s lips move to your throat, and he also teases your ear a little, which sends a shiver through you.
One of his hands slips under your shirt, and he grabs your boob over your bra, massaging you tentively.
“Take it off,” you tell him, arching your back in an effort to do it yourself.
Between the two of you, you’re able to remove your shirt, and you also remove your bra, making yourself bare to Mingyu from the waist up.
“You’re so pretty,” he muses, sitting up and looking down at you. Both of his hands find your breasts, and he begins to massage you. “Do you have any oil or anything?”
In preparation for this, you’d put a few sexy items in your bedside table, so it’s easy enough to reach for the coconut oil you have hidden there.
Mingyu drips some oil onto his hands, and then he begins to massage your breasts again.
The silky sensation of the oil makes you moan, and you relax against the bed, closing your eyes to enjoy it all.
You love a man who takes his time to worship you, and no one has massaged your chest in a very long time.
His thumbs brush over your nipples and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.
When you look up at Mingyu, you find his gaze fixed to your chest, as if he’s bewitched by the prettiest sight he’s ever seen.
You love how big his hands are, how soft and warm-
Even so, you’re eager for more.
You haven’t had sex in a while, and your core is almost starting to hurt with anticipation.
This must be what blue balls feels like- or at least, the female equivalent, and you find yourself wrapping a hand around Mingyu’s wrist to make him stop.
“I know what your hands do,” you tell him, “but what about your mouth?”
You’re almost a little shocked at the confidence you seem to have gained, but being confident with Mingyu just comes naturally.
You know he’s man enough to take commands from a woman, in fact, he enjoys doing what he’s told, and something about that is so immensely sexy.
Mingyu shifts down the bed, and he hooks his fingers in your sweatpants, looking up at you for permission.
“Go ahead,” you nod.
The large, beefy man slowly slides your pants down your legs, and then he situates himself between your thighs. He starts by massaging your muscles, pressing kisses along your skin as he slowly works up to where you need him most.
You can feel his breath through your panties, and you shift against the bed, core throbbing already.
Then, Mingyu kisses you through the fabric, and it’s such an interesting sensation.
He begins to lick, pushing his tongue at your panties.
“Just take them off,” you groan.
Mingyu is quick to do as he’s told, and you lift your legs to make the process easier, leaving you completely bare for him.
Upon returning to his spot between your legs, Mingyu begins kissing your thighs again, and this time, as he slowly makes his way up to your pussy, you know there’s nothing standing in the way of him pleasuring you.
He kisses your clit, and the sensation makes you twitch.
Your hands snake down to grab at his hair, and he looks up at you.
Something in his eyes tells you he really enjoys you having a hold on him like this.
“Show me what your mouth can do,” you repeat, body tense with anticipation.
Mingyu wastes no time now, he dives in, and this time, he holds nothing back.
His tongue pushes into you, hot, puffy lips making full contact on your core as he licks and eats and slurps.
He’s a messy eater, and you actually kind of love it.
You love how lost he gets in it, how his eyes close, his hands gripping your thighs on either side of his head as he groans against your pussy.
Then you realize the rest of his body is moving too, his hips are wiggling, as if he’s looking for stimulus while he eats you out.
Fuck, he’s so hot- grinding against the bed, so turned on from giving you oral that he can’t even help himself.
“Just like that,” you tell him, throwing your head back and closing your eyes to focus on the sensation.
You’d been so wet and needy just from him massaging your breasts, and now that he’s eating you out- well, you know you’re not going to last long.
Some men don’t know what to do with a woman’s body, but Mingyu isn’t one of those men.
It looks like he has actually learned a thing or two from watching copious amounts of porn, which is kind of shocking if you’re being honest with yourself.
Mingyu shifts, and then a finger is pushing into your wet heat, his mouth now giving its full attention to your sensitive clit.
He pumps his digit in and out, and you can feel how wet and slick you are by the ease in which he fingers you.
One becomes two, and he adjusts his hand, his digits crooking up toward your g-spot.
You’re practically squelching now, and moans are escaping you without barriers. You want Mingyu to know how good he’s making you feel, and there’s no use in restricting yourself.
You begin to move, wiggling your hips so you can help him pleasure you, and your motions make Mingyu groan. He sucks your clit even harder, his hot tongue flicking the sensitive bud with more force as he fingers you.
“I’m close,” you tell him.
Mingyu only moans in response, his motions getting faster as he worships your core.
You close your eyes, focusing entirely on the ecstasy he’s providing you.
Your muscles are getting tighter, your body preparing yourself for the orgasm that hits mere moments later.
You let out a gasp, your core clamping down on Mingyu’s fingers as pleasure erupts through you. It hits you in waves, making you moan and whimper at each contraction of your pussy around Mingyu’s fingers.
Your clit is ultra sensitive, but fuck, it feels so good-
Mingyu continues to eat you out as you cum, and it almost boarders on being too good- but you’re not about to push him away for being too good.
Your hips are still wiggling, your body unconsciously wanting your orgasm prolonged- you’re a glutton for punishment and pleasure in that way, but you know Mingyu doesn’t mind.
Finally, you begin to push at Mingyu’s head, and he pulls away, looking up at you.
“Do you want another?” he asks innocently.
You laugh. “Want you inside me.”
“I am inside you,” he smiles, his fingers pushing in and out of you again, making an obscene squelching sound that has your skin heating with embarrassment.
“You know what I mean,” you tut.
Mingyu takes his digits out of you, plopping them in his mouth to suck clean while he groans. When he’s done cleaning himself off, he sits up. “So uh… condoms?”
“I’m on birth control, are you clean?”
“I’m clean,” he nods.
“Then fuck me.”
Mingyu starts by taking his shirt off, and you marvel at his toned muscles. This man works out at least four days of the week, and it shows.
He’s so sexy, you’re pretty sure you’re drooling, and you swallow thickly.
“Suck a pretty puppy boy,” you whisper.
“Puppy boy?”
“Yeah, you’re a puppy boy,” you insist.
He looks at you for a moment, and then you note the way his shoulders relax. “I like that.”
“Here,” you sit up. “Lie down.”
Mingyu does what he’s told, like any good puppy boy would, and you take control.
“Lift your hips,” you instruct next, and when he follows through, you tear his sweats and his underwear off with one rough tug.
The biggest cock you’ve ever seen slaps up against his stomach, and your jaw drops.
“Holy shit.”
Mingyu flushes a pretty shade of pink. Leave it to him to be shy about how big his dick is as opposed to turning into a cocky piece of shit like most men would.
You can’t help but wrap your hand around him, bringing your mouth to his tip to suck on it.
Mingyu groans immediately, grabbing at your bed sheets as you begin to suck him off.
It helps that you’re practically drooling, but even so, he’s so large that you really can’t take a lot of him.
After a minute, you sit up. “Pass me the oil.”
He does as he’s told like the good puppy boy he is, and you coat your hand in the slick.
When you return to blowing him, you begin to pump what you can’t reach with your mouth, twisting and squeezing and teasing.
Mingyu groans louder, and you give the act of pleasuring him your all, as he’d just given you.
When a man treats you well, it’s only right that you treat him well in return, and something tells you that if things with Mingyu continue, there are going to be a lot of moments like this one.
You love sucking on his mushroom tip, teasing him endlessly as he groans and shifts below you.
“Fuck, you’re good at this,” Mingyu tells you.
You hum happily around him, and he moans even louder.
Then, you pull your mouth off of him, continuing your motions with your hand. “Part of me wants to just tease you like this for hours.”
“And the other part?” he asks.
“Wants to ride you.”
He swallows thickly. “Can… can you ride me, please?”
“Only because you asked so nicely.”
You sit up fully, straddling him. But you don’t immediately put him inside of you, instead, you lean forward to kiss him, grinding down against his oil slicked cock so you can lubricate yourself.
You know this isn’t going to be easy getting him inside of you, after all, his cock is massive, but teasing both of you like this will make the process smoother.
Mingyu kisses you eagerly, grabbing the back of your neck with one hand and your hip with the other. He applies pressure to help you wiggle against him, and your oiled breasts make the whole situation extra nice and slippery.
Soon, Mingyu’s hips begin to twitch, and you know you’ve teased him long enough.
You reach between your bodies, grabbing the base of his cock so you can line him up with your core.
You’re gentle with yourself as you sink onto him, taking just the tip at first to get used to the stretch.
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, panting already.
“Be patient for me,” you tell him, taking another inch.
Mingyu decides to distract himself by grabbing your breasts, and he begins massaging you again, making you groan as you do your best to take more and more of him.
He toys with your nipples and a shiver of pleasure runs through you.
Another inch.
It’s good to be on top of him for your first time. You’re sure Mingyu would have been gentle if he was on top, but you’re happy to have full control of the penetration speed. Your core is twitching tightly around the massive intrusion, but you’re not someone who gives up. You take inch after inch until you’re finally fully seated on top of Mingyu.
You both groan desperately from the sensation, and you begin to swivel your hips.
“So deep,” you whimper.
“So tight,” he echoes back.
You lean over him again, pressing your lips to his so you can bounce up and down. Mingyu’s hands find your hips and he kisses you back desperately.
God, he feels absolutely unreal.
You pride yourself on being someone with a lot of stamina in bed, so you’re prepared to ride him until your thighs are burning- but then Mingyu begins to thrust up to meet you, and suddenly he’s hitting even deeper.
You let out a deep moan, staying still so he can fuck up into you.
And that’s when you decide you want to know what doggy with Mingyu feels like.
“Shit, okay, fuck,” you swallow thickly. “Want you to fuck me from behind.”
“Okay,” he pants.
You pull off of him, adjusting on the bed while he sits up to get onto his knees.
Your ass is in the air, but your lower body is close to the bed, back arched.
Mingyu brings his cock to your wet hole, and he slowly pushes in. Your core is absolutely soaked, and it’s easier for him to enter you now than the first time.
Soon, his front is flush to your back, and he grabs your hips.
“Okay, fuck me,” you tell him.
Mingyu doesn’t waste any time, he begins to rut into you. His grip is tight on your skin, and he pulls you back to meet each thrust.
He’s so deep that you’re seeing stars. Sounds are leaving your mouth that you’ve never heard come from you before.
Each thrust is magic, filling you unlike anything else ever has.
You’d mentioned you like manhandling, and this is what you were talking about.
You can feel Mingyu’s power in the way that he’s pulling you back and forth like a rag doll. There’s something so sexy about allowing a man the chance to use you, about being the one in control even while he decimates your pussy.
You can feel your orgasm begining to bubble up inside of you again, and you know from the sounds Mingyu’s making that he’s probably close to- after all, you’ve got to cum once, but so far, all of this has been foreplay for Mingyu.
“I’m getting close,” you whimper.
“Me too,” Mingyu admits. “Lay flat for me.”
It takes a moment to resposition, but now you’re on your stomach. Mingyu’s still fucking you, but now he’s laid over your back. His breath is hot against your throat and you turn your head so Mingyu can press his lips to yours.
He’s straddling your closed legs, but your back is still slightly arched so he can enter you easily.
This angle has him hitting spots you’ve never had touched, and it feels like heaven.
Your bodies are fully pressed together, there’s no distance like in doggy, and you love that this will be the position you both come in.
It’s close, but your back is still to him, so it’s not as vanilla and domestic as something like missionary.
Mingyu’s groaning more and more, and you echo his sounds with whimpers of your own.
“Shit,” Mingyu cusses. “I want to cum with you.”
“Then cum for me, I’m so close,” you whimper.
“Fuck,” he groans again, fucking you even harder.
The whole bed is rocking, but that only turns you on more as you get closer and closer to the edge.
“I’m almost there,” you whimper, body tensing on the verge of ecstasy.
“Me too, me too,” he moans.
He presses his lips to yours and that sends you over the edge.
Your core clamps down hard on his cock and Mingyu moans desperately, his cock twitching inside of you before he explodes.
The orgasm is all-consuming, and every sensation is Mingyu.
He does his best to fuck you through it, but you know that he’s overwhelmed like you are.
No orgasm has ever felt this good, and your core continues to milk Mingyu, filling you up unlike anything else.
“Shit, shit-” he groans, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against your shoulder, panting desperately as you both try to come down from your highs.
He lays on top of you like this for a while as you both recollect yourselves, and then, he lets out a sigh.
“Give me like, five minutes, and some time to massage you again, and I’ll be able to do round two.”
He’s as insatiable as you are. Sure, he’s a little weird, but who isn’t. You’re kind of weird too, but at least your weirds seem to work together, and you kind of love it.
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you're interested in Wonwoo's chapter about No Face, find it here, and Seungcheol's chapter is here.
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🔮 preview. Mingyu had told you about some ammature porn videos where there’s some ‘sir pussy licker’ or something, and how a bunch of his content is just eating out his girlfriend and making her squirt- so of course, Mingyu wants that to be a major part of the content you make.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, sex tape, multiple reader orgasms, oral, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, overstim, squirting, breast worship, body worship kink, dirty talk, praise, mentions of self inflicted edging, mentions of cock rings and other things, big dick Mingyu agenda, etc… I petnames. (his) Puppy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 150
🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
bonus
You’ve been with Mingyu for about six months now, and true to your word when you’d started seeing each other, the two of you have made a few sex tapes for your eyes only.
Mingyu’s absolutely obsessed with you, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way.
The two of you are lying in bed after filming a new thing for the two of you, and Mingyu releases a breath. “Maybe… maybe we should start actually doing the whole cam thing,” he suggests.
“Yeah?”
“You know, make money.”
“How much do you think we could make?” you ask, not fully opposed to the idea.
“I have two friends who do the whole solo cam show thing,” Mingyu admits. “They both bring in a lot of money, but they also do solo stuff. If we made stuff together, our target audience could be bigger.”
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there’s just something so very endearing about mingyu in this fic, he truly is one puppy boy 🥺
i especially love the way ure so consistent in writing mingyu as a pussy eating god LIKEEEE i’m kicking my feet up giggling at this reoccuring theme in every mingyu fic of yours i love love LOVE IT. and now i’m kind of joining the switchy gyu club oh man ✋🏼😭
Baby (k.sy)
PAIRING: Soongyoung x f. reader
SUMMARY: Soonyoung had been in your life for as long as you can remember. You haven’t spoken since your wedding to someone who isn’t him, but when you uncover your husband’s plans to turn against your family, you don’t know who else to call.
WC: 29,988
AU: Mafiaverse, Cyberpunk, Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers
GENRE: Smut, Heavy Angst
RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
WARINGS: Full warnings available under the cut.
A/N: This fic was posted on my original blog which has been deleted. I am now reposting it. I hope it does half as well as it did when I originally posted this story - thank you to everyone who left amazing feedback the first time. It genuinely made me so happy and I am so sorry that it got sent to the moon where I can no longer read it.
A/N 2: Thank you @daechwitatamic and @eoieopda for beta-reading this fic.
MASTERLIST | FULL COLLECTION | ASK | PLAYLIST | NEXT | MOODBOARD
Warnings: Graphic violence generally associated with mafia behavior, mentions of murder and blood, morally grey characters, themes of codependency (a little bit), a bit of a toxic relationship with Soonyoung and reader at times (they like to make each other jealous), bar fights, women being very petty, recreational drinking and drug use, heavy angst, depictions of death (funerals for parents), fight scene that ends in death in a domestic situation, difficult relationships with parents, reader and her husband have a terrible relationship and hate each other, depictions of blood and stabbing in one scene (it is the most graphic scene in the whole fic but kept short), reader agonizes over decisions she's made and struggles mentally with a lot of it, depiction of a full blown anxiety attack, sexually explicit content including fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, crying during sex, a lot of making out and biting, multiple orgasms... sorry this is so long, I want to over-warn for everything happening here so if I have missed something you think needs to be warned, please tell me!
KWON SOONYOUNG IS CRYING THE FIRST TIME YOU MEET HIM. It’s a loud, warbling cry that you’re not used to, and you flinch at the pitch as you hide behind your mother. Soonyoung and his mother are standing in the grand foyer of your home, his fists twisted in her tweed skirt as he begs her not to leave him.
His mother sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. You’ve seen her around before on the arm of her husband at your family dinner parties and for afternoon tea with your mom. This is the first time you’ve seen Soonyoung, though, and you’re unimpressed as his shrieking only gets louder when she crouches down to look him in the eye fondly, brushing the tears from his face.
You don’t know a lot of other kids, but the noisiness of him startles you. Unsettles you. Sensing your unease, your mother reaches to pull you from behind her, giving you a single look that you know means please behave. You straighten immediately, turning to watch the sniffling boy as he calms down.
Soonyoung is round-cheeked, his dark eyes swollen and face reddened from working himself up. His mother murmurs something to him and he nods, wiping the snot from his face with the back of his hand.
Seungcheol must notice the crying has stopped. He appears from the kitchen, giving Soonyoung an unimpressed once over as he strides toward you and your mother. She clucks her tongue at the cheek of her eleven year old, giving him a hard look.
“Seungcheol, don’t be rude,” she admonishes. “Greet our guests properly.”
Your older brother glances at you and you lift a shoulder. He’s going to lead the family one day, it’s important for him to show manners. You know this even at a young age - have always known what his place is among your family, what your place is.
Cheol is in line to become the Tower of the Choi Syndicate, an empire that you cannot fathom at your age but you know is important. You are its insurance, a second heir if something happens to the first and a bargaining chip for future partnerships. A potential logician, if you’re good enough.
Turning to Soonyoung and his mother, Seungcheol bows politely. “It’s nice to meet you, Soonyoung. Are you here to play video games?”
Soonyoung perks up at that, looking at his mom, eyes going round. She grins and nods her head, pulling her hands from where they rest on his shoulders. “He is,” she agrees. “We thought it might be good for you to become friends.” Her gaze drifts to you. “All three of you.”
That makes you frown. You don’t really like playing video games. Seungcheol never lets you win and forces you to play for hours in exchange for him letting you borrow his AetherLink at night to scroll the internet. You’re not allowed to have one yet, even though you’re only four years younger and all of your other friends have them to enter virtual chat rooms and play online games.
“Do I have to?” you ask your mom, looking up at her.
“Yes,” she says firmly, gently nudging you by the shoulder toward where your brother is not so patiently waiting to escort you to the gaming room. “Go.”
“Why don’t you want to play?” Soonyoung asks, pouting a little.
“I’m not any good.”
“That’s okay. I’ll let you beat me.”
Seungcheol moans. “Ugh, don’t let her win. Come on. I got the new Grid Fighters game on the Reality Rift console!”
“No way!”
Seungcheol grins and shoots off toward the gaming room, Soonyoung hot on his heels. You hesitate for a moment, staring after them with indignation. Soonyoung stops at the doorway, turning to you. His face is still ruddy from crying, but he’s suddenly smiling, cheeks round and smooth.
“Come on,” he whispers. “I’ll let you win, I promise.”
“Holy fuck, can you let me win for once?” Soonyoung groans, rolling over on the mat. He’s dripping in sweat, wiping it away from his brow as he stands with effort.
Grinning, you skip away from him, reaching for your water bottle. Music pounds through the speakers of the training room. Overhead, the blue neon casts an eerie glow over the two of you. Seungcheol ignores you both in favor of using the weight machines in the far corner of the room.
On the far wall, your health and fitness data is displayed, each one of your bodies outlined and flashing as new data comes in. Right now, you’re in the red zone, heart pounding hard from your bout with Soonyoung, who is in the orange zone.
Which confirms your suspicion that he’s not trying as hard as he could be.
“Maybe if you weren’t afraid to actually hit me,” you offer. The water helps cool you down as you eye Soonyoung. Even at fourteen, he’s started to fill out his form more, arms corded as he hones himself into a weapon. “You’re not going to hurt me.”
Seungcheol scoffs from across the room. Maybe he wasn’t totally ignoring the two of you. He drops his cool-older-kid act to turn and grumble, “He’d put you on your ass, Baby. Lucky for you, he always lets you win.”
The nickname makes you bristle. You hate when people point out that you’re the baby of the family, like you’re something less than or incapable of keeping pace. You especially hate it when Seungcheol uses it to put you in your place, reminding you that one day your shithead older brother is going to be leading the family business.
The family business is the reason you spar with them at all. Occasionally Vernon joins, though those days are as unpredictable as his appearances. Usually when he’s over at your house, it’s never a good thing. His arrivals are always bracketed with the sound of his father’s manic yelling and his mother’s frantic begging, followed closely by slammed doors and your father’s calming voice.
Today it’s just the three of you, though. Soonyoung comes over and sits on the mat by your feet, holding a hand up to you. You pass him your water bottle, rolling your eyes at him even though it doesn’t really bother you.
Nothing Soonyoung does really bothers you. Since that first day he showed up at your house sobbing because his mother was leaving him for the day, he’s grown on you. More than grown on you, in fact. You’re pretty sure he hasn’t noticed your lingering gazes and the way he flusters you when he gets too close, and you hope to keep it that way.
“I don’t want to hit you,” Soonyoung offers gently, voice low over the metal clang of Seuncheol’s weights. “And it’s not ‘cause I don’t think you can’t take it,” he adds with a grin, bumping his shoulder against your leg. “I just don’t like the idea of you getting hurt.”
“Everyone treats me like a baby.”
“You are. But it’s not a bad thing. For example, you say jump and everyone says how high. Even my dad.”
That makes you smirk a little. You look at the floor, letting his words wash over you. They do ring true - there’s no one in the Syndicate who would deny you anything, and though you’re utterly terrified of Soonyoung’s dad, he would do anything for you. In a way, it was the Kwon family’s divine purpose to be by the side of the Chois.
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Jump.”
Soonyoung grins and sets the water bottle down, getting up to his feet at your command. “How high, Baby?”
Soonyoung doesn’t shed a tear on the day of his parents’ funeral. He’s a far cry from the little boy who showed up at your house to play video games and become friends.
Instead, he sits in silence, eyes raging - always raging, now. You don’t think the fury stops, his gaze burning the entire ceremony. His grip on your hand is like iron, and after a while, your arm tingles with pins and needles. You say nothing, willing to endure. Eventually, your arm goes numb entirely, and he keeps holding your hand.
Afterward, Soonyoung says nothing. You do the talking for him, accepting the hand shakes and bows on his behalf when he doesn’t reach out to accept them, thanking those who have come to offer him condolences and respect when he doesn’t speak.
His grip on you is steadfast. Iron and fire. Even when your father drops his gaze down with a look of disapproval, Soonyoung doesn’t let go and you don’t ask him to. If there’s any day that you can break decorum and tradition, it’s certainly now in the wake of Soonyoung’s loss.
They don’t need to know you’d let him hold you anyway.
The boy who existed before the murder of his parents is dead. You knew it before the funeral. But when the last guest finally leaves the Choi Estate and Soonyoung doesn’t shed a tear, you realize it isn’t just his parents that you’ve buried.
The sweet, gentle boy who had cried those tears for fear of his mother leaving him has died too. And you don’t think you’ll ever see him again.
-
“You want me to do what?” Soonyoung asks, pulling you into his room and looking out the cracked door to make sure no one else is around. “Where is your brother?”
“I have no idea.”
“You can’t just- ” Soonyoung fumbles for words as he shuts the door and takes a few steps past you into his room proper. It’s dark, safe for the glow of his AetherLink glowing with a paused video game. “Did he see you follow me up here?”
“Why are you being weird? I’m in here all the time. You live here.”
“I’m being weird? You just asked me to kiss you. Neither your brother nor your dad want you in my room in the middle of the night.”
You frown. “Since when? Look, I’m sixteen and I’ve never been kissed, and Lin just lost her virginity to Jeonghan. What happened to when I say jump you say how high?”
“Oh don’t start with me. Who cares if Lin is giving it up to Jeonghan. She blew Wonwoo like two weeks ago. It’s not a competition.”
You cross your arms over your chest, caving in on yourself a little. Maybe it was a stupid idea to ask Soonyoung after all. But you can’t get over the way all of the other girls were clinging to Lin’s every word as she spilled the details of sleeping with Jeonghan. Everyone else in your friends group had at least made out with boys - you had nothing.
Being the daughter of the leader of the Choi Syndicate has its benefits. Being accessible to do things like kissing boys and going out with your friends to new cool clubs like Echo Space and Hyper Vibe were not one of them. Getting any of the boys your age to even look you in the eye was impossible, the fear of catching the wrath of Seungcheol and your father looming over them like the Sword of Damocles.
Soonyoung is Soonyoung, though. Your father has brought him into the fold like one of his own, keeping his oath to Soonyoung’s parents to always watch over him and protect him. You’re old enough now to understand that the bonds between higher members of the Syndicate are bonds of faith and blood, of family and something more.
If anyone shouldn’t be afraid to kiss you, it’s Soonyoung. He lives down the hall from you, and he’s best friends with your brother. It wouldn’t be that weird. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you lay awake in your bed at night while you stared at the ceiling, fingers trailing your lips.
Now, you’re not so sure. The way Soonyoung recoils makes you realize you hadn’t thought of the single most important thing before marching in here and asking him to be your first kiss: maybe Soonyoung didn’t want to kiss you.
It hadn’t even crossed your mind - one of the many downsides to getting mostly everything you wanted. You’re so infrequently told no that in the light of rejection, you don’t know what to do, recoiling like you’ve been mortally wounded.
Nodding your head, you turn away from Soonyoung, throat tightening as the new wave of emotions threatens to spill over. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“Baby,” he sighs. You ignore him, bolting for the door. Soonyoung is fast, though. He snatches your arm and drags you back toward him, though you turn your face away from him to hide the evidence of oncoming tears. “Don’t be like that.”
“I’m not being like anything. It was a stupid favor to ask.”
“Would you look at me?”
“No.”
He sighs heavily. “Why are you being so difficult?”
Trying to wrench your arm from his hold is useless. He’s not hurting you, but the grip on your bicep is firm. “Well if I’m so difficult then let me go.”
“Baby.” The frustration in his voice is evident. You ignore the way your nickname rolls off his tongue, the way he’s the only person you don’t absolutely hate the name from.
“Just let me go!”
“No. Why do you want me to kiss you?”
The question is like nails against chalkboard now, your embarrassment peaking. “Forget I even asked, just let me go!”
“Fuck - are you crying?”
“No.”
“Baby, look at me.”
Too afraid that the wavering in your voice will give you away, you shake your head, refusing to turn and face him. With a growl, he gives a sharp tug on your arm, spinning you toward him. You let out a noise of protest, ready to lash out at him again when you feel his mouth on yours.
Startled, you don’t do anything at first. Soonyoung’s grip is still on your bicep, firm and steadfast. Your eyes blink for a second before they flutter closed, unsure exactly what to do beyond lean into him a little, pressing your lips firmer to his.
It’s somehow exactly what you expected and totally unexpected at the same time. Soonyoung’s mouth is softer than you were ready for, slotted gently against yours. He’s warm and smells like vanilla and sandalwood, a scent you’ve grown familiar with. Your thoughts peter out, enjoying the way he holds you to him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.
When Soonyoung pulls away, you look up at him through half-lidded eyes, your breath shaky. He doesn’t pull back very far, looking down at you with a dark gaze. This close, you can see the real Soonyoung. His expression is soft, eyes sparkling in the blue light of his room. He looks so young suddenly, all of the rage and wrath that lurks under the surface of the calm mask he wears gone for just a moment.
“You have pretty eyes,” you whisper. His mouth twitches at the corner, an almost smile. “I’ve always thought you had beautiful eyes.”
He opens and closes his mouth again, trying to find words. You wait him out, heart thudding. He’s still holding you close to him, fingers digging desperately into your arm.
Footsteps thundering up the stairs wake him from his daze, Seungcheol calling your name. Soonyoung drops his hand and steps away from you, a cool mask of calm sliding into place, the vulnerability gone in an instant. “There’s your kiss,” he murmurs. “Is there anything else you need from me or do I need to jump too?”
Synth pulses through you, vibrating your very bones as you lounge on the velvet couch in a private section of the club. The lights above you are hazy, but you can make out the shapes of holographic dancers, their graphics so high definition that you can see the sweat beading down their bare backs.
From the VIP section, you have the perfect view of the DJ platform. Screens flash behind it, holographic wonders of creatures and places and visuals flashing brightly. Writhing bodies twist on the dancefloor around the DJ like a pit of snakes. Among them, you know your father’s Taps slither among the crowd, pushing drugs and psychedelics into the hands of those who can afford it.
A trained eye can spot a Tap well enough. Though they blend in with the nylon and leather of the partiers, they tend to be sharp eyed and lucid, chewing on stim pops or some other substance to keep them awake and alert.
It’s not the drug dealers in the crowd who keep drawing your attention, though. You shouldn’t be able to spot Soonyoung in the mass of bodies so easily, but you do. His hair is bleached, reflecting the flashing lights around him as he presses in close to the girl attached to him, hips swaying.
Your mouth sours. Leaning forward you snatch one of the bottles from the ice bucket and pour a shot into a crystal glass. Angel raises her brows as you slide the glass over to her and pour another for yourself. She’s not much of a drinker, but she takes the glass wordlessly, sensing your need to have a partner in crime.
Knocking it back, you hiss as the liquor burns all the way back. Even the high grade alcohol is like fire, washing away your irritation for a dizzy moment, veins buzzing. Leaning back, your eyes scan the crowd and settle on Soonyoung again. This time, he’s leading his partner through the crowd and toward the stairs. The stairs that lead to you.
Seungcheol and Wonwoo crashing onto the seat next to you breaks your concentration. Seungcheol’s pupils are wide as saucers, eyes trailing upward to dance at the visual of a woman with pink skin sliding out of her top.
Next to him, Wonwoo pulls a small bag with glittering dust from his pocket, shaking it to settle all of the contents at the bottom before unsealing the top. The way the powder glows against the lights tells you its high quality frostbyte, a powerful stimulant named for the biting feeling when inhaled.
Instead of yelling over the music, you gesture toward the bag, catching Wonwoo’s attention. He gives you a surprised look followed by a wolfish grin. Wonwoo loves when you partake in partying harder, a side everyone so rarely sees from you.
Sliding a knife from his pocket, you watch with rapt attention as Wonwoo dips it into the baggie, scooping delicately. You’d rather he cut lines on the table, but you’ll take what you can get, watching as he expertly fishes out a decent sized amount for you to take.
You’re mutely aware that a group of bodies enters your section. Vernon throws himself down next to Angel, jostling you both as you lean over Seungcheol’s half-asleep form toward where Wonwoo extends the knife toward you carefully. You ignore the weight of Soonyoung’s eyes on you as he, Mingyu and a group of girls sit down and reach to fill their glasses with liquor.
Wonwoo’s hands are steady as he holds the tip of his blade out to you, a hand held underneath to catch any powder that slips off the blade. Careful not to lose your balance and stab yourself, you level your face with the knife, inhaling sharply.
Immediately the drug bites the back of your throat, eyes watering as you tilt your head upwards and blink for a second, letting it settle. Sniffing harshly a few times, you clear your nasal passage and blow out a breath, feeling the softest beginning of a tingle as you look at Wonwoo, who is still holding his hands out to you.
“Thanks,” you nod. He grins and pulls back, rubbing the excess powder along his gums as you fall heavily against the back of the booth.
Turning to look at your brother, you elbow him. “Are you alive?”
“Mhmm,” he grunts, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. Lights dance across his face, all pinks and blues and purples as he breathes in heavily. “I am fucked right now. Can you get me a stim pop from Hoshi? If I do anymore frostbyte I’m gonna get a nosebleed. Again.”
Actually, asking Soonyoung for anything is the last thing you want to do. However, your brother does look like he needs to wake up, the mess of drugs and alcohol in his system working overtime to put him on his ass. Stim pops are a quick fix, a careful mix of sweet candy and methylphenidate to wake up the nervous system. Soongyoung always has them on his person, especially for when he works late night shifts.
Turning in the booth, you’re smacked with a wave of color. For a moment, you drink it in, tilting your head upward as the figures dancing above explode into a world of lavender butterflies. They’re utterly captivating, your eyes watching them twist and dance in the air as they flutter.
A laugh bubbles from your lips, entirely childlike. Grinning, you watch them for a few moments more before they disintegrate into stars, entire solar systems hovering and floating through the space above your head.
Seungcheol elbowing you breaks you from your concentration. Right. Stim pop. From Soonyoung. Glancing at the man in question makes your stomach plummet. Soonyoung’s head is resting against the back of the booth, the girl next to him draped over him with her mouth pressed hot to his throat, her teeth overly white in the blacklight of the club.
A surge of rage shivers through you, your nails scratching across the green velvet, leaving marks in their wake. Leaning forward, you reach out a hand and smack Vernon’s knee to get his attention. He turns his lazy gaze on you, brows raised. When you point at Soonyoung, he nods and yells over his shoulder to get your target’s attention.
Soonyoung’s eyes flutter open and flick to where you’re sitting. He drinks in your expression before muttering something to the woman mouthing at his neck and peels her off, standing up and shuffling over to you. Angel makes room for him, all but sliding into Vernon’s lap as Soonyoung crashes down on the couch next to you.
“Hi, Baby. What’s up?”
“Cheol needs a stim pop,” you answer curtly, leaning away from him. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood laced with alcohol. Soonyoung is so close you can feel his body heat, his breath fanning across your bare shoulder as he moves to look at Seungcheol half asleep on your other side. “Then you can go back to your little public sex session.”
Soonyoung makes an angry cat noise, narrowing his eyes at you as he smirks. He leans toward you further to reach into his pocket, shoulder pressed against you. His scent fills your nose, heady and familiar. You’re dizzy with it, the touch of his warmth against your skin making you flush.
Suddenly, his nearness is overwhelming. Every hair on the back of your neck stands on end, your skin hypersensitive to the way he leans against you. The glow of the lights is sharper than you remember, and you swear you feel the blood rushing through your body.
A response that could be either because of the drugs you inhaled a moment ago or because Soonyoung is pressed against you and you have the sudden urge to lean into him, to feel his warmth, to press your lips against his and feel their softness.
In an attempt to save yourself from the trap, you shove back at him. He huffs, glaring at you as he fishes a stim pop out of his pocket and hands it over to you. You’re careful to avoid his touch when you snatch it from his nimble fingers, turning your back on him in the booth to look at Seungcheol.
“Why are you being a brat?” His voice is loud over the music, shouted into your ear as he tilts back into your space again. You can feel the warmth of him on your back.
“Go away.”
“Baby, please don’t start with me.”
“I’m not starting fuck with you.”
Seungcheol cracks an eye open to observe your argument with a look of interest. Seungcheol’s pupils are dilated like moons, totally empty of any coherent thought. You peel the wrapper off the stim pop, careful to hold it by the cardboard stick as you pop it into your brother’s mouth.
For a few moments, your brother lolls the candy around his mouth, sucking greedily. Then, he blinks his eyes open, pupils narrowing as he drinks in the lights and the clubs. He sighs in relief, patting your thigh gratefully as the stimulant chases away whatever else is washing him out.
When you turn around, Soonyoung is still lingering, his dark eyes fierce and focused only on you. He looks good tonight. He looks good every night. He has become your picture perfect torture since that night you asked him to be your first kiss, kickstarting something you were incapable of foreseeing.
The bleached hair is new and you hate how much you like it. The silvery strands look just as soft as his natural black, and it’s a nice contrast to his dark eyes and sharp cheekbones. Those stormy eyes are staring at you now, something playful that you don’t like glittering under the surface.
He pouts at you. “Why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you. Go away!”
“You definitely are. What did I do, hmm? Tell me.”
“Please fuck off.”
He rolls his eyes, peeling himself off the couch and muttering something under his breath. You’re sure he has nothing nice to say, so you sink further into the couch, crossing your hands over your chest as you sulk.
Sticky air clings to your skin. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, the music vibrating your ribcage. Your anger is like a monster given life, fueled by the frostbyte and the feverish anger taking root in your stomach as Soonyoung settles back in his spot, pressing his mouth sloppily to the woman next to him.
And that’s the problem, really. It’s not you that is pressing your mouth to his jaw while he leans against the back of the seat. It isn’t you running manicured nails down the front of his shirts, pulling at buttons despite the audience.
It isn’t you and it should be. You want it to be.
It’s been two years since Soonyoung kissed you for the first time in his room. You’ve had more experience with other people since then, but it dulls in comparison to his simple kiss. You hate it. What you hate even more is how childish it makes you feel, embarrassment heating your cheeks and throat when he catches your gaze across the booth and you divert your attention.
For the second time, Soonyoung peels the girl off of him, making like he’s going to get up and come sit next to you again. This time, his companion keeps him rooted to the spot, her nails digging into his forearm as she hisses something at him. He groans, head tilted back like he’s once again the most inconvenienced man in the room.
Wanting nothing more than to blot him out, you call Wonwoo’s name again, leaning forward heavily for more frostbyte. Soonyoung whistles and snaps his finger in your direction as though to tell you no. You bristle, your anger turning to an inferno, burning up inside of you.
Vernon and Angel both cringe, leaning out of your line of fire as you swivel to angle yourself toward Soonyoung, hands shaking. “Don’t fucking whistle and snap at me! I’m not a dog.”
“Baby, you don’t need more. Your pupils are the size of Mingyu’s big ass head.”
Mingyu, though right next to Soonyoung, doesn’t hear the insult, his tongue being sucked down the throat of the girl sitting in his lap, hips grinding on him. Another girl is pressed to his side, teeth nipping at his jaw. At least someone is having fun, you think, the three of them totally aware of the crackling tension in their booth.
The girl attached to Soonyoung’s neck a moment ago bristles when she hears your nickname. “Baby?” she asks, face scrunching. “Are you serious?”
“Chill out, Victra. It’s her nickname.”
“Yeah,” you agree, shooting her a venomous look, despite her doing nothing to earn your ire. “Chill, Victra.”
Once again, you turn your back on Soonyoung, standing and scooting Seungcheol over to swap places with him. He does so with a keen eye, watching the scene unfold as he sucks his lollipop happily, content to watch the drama.
Wonwoo dips his knife into the bag as you settle in next to him, bouncing with excitement. “I love when you do drugs, you’re so much fun.”
“I don’t feel very fun right now.”
“Drugs will fix it!”
“Wonwoo, don’t you dare give her that,” Soonyoung warns. He pries Victra’s hands off of him, leaning forward as though to reach across the table.
“Ignore him,” you insist.
Wonwoo hesitates, stuck between a rock and a hard place. The last thing he wants to do is tell you no. No one but your father and older brother get to tell you no. Wonwoo knows this better than most people. But he also doesn’t want to cross Soonyoung, a venture nearly as dangerous as pissing off Seungcheol.
Soonyoung hisses at the girl next to him, “Stop clawing at me! Baby, please stop being stubborn for one moment. Just one. ”
“Why the fuck did you even bring me up here?” Victra interrupts, ignoring Soonyoung’s plea. “You’ve done nothing but fawn over her since we got here. This isn’t fun.”
Soonyoung ignores her. “If you’re mad at me, be mad at me. Stop blowing shit up your nose to prove a point and be a bitch, though.”
“I’m not proving fuck, Soonyoung. And Victra’s right, go fuck her in the bathroom or something and stop telling me what to do.”
“So it is about her?”
“I have a name!” The her in question snaps. You turn around, temper flaring as you level your glare at her. She turns her nose up at you as she says, “It’s obvious you’re bothered he brought me here. Your jealousy is insufferable.”
“Ding, ding ding,” Seungcheol imitates a bell. You turn around to look at Victra. “Round one! Fight!”
It takes a second for Victra’s words to land. It’s like each one hits you a second apart, packing their own punch as you register them. The pulsing music around you fades to a dull roar as you stare at her, seeing the way her lips twitch upward as she realizes she’s right. You are jealous that Soonyoung brought her up here.
Victra’s grin is all it takes for you to spill over. Before you can register what you’re doing, you’re out of your seat and leaping over the table at her, knocking over glasses and bottles. Wonwoo cheers in delight behind you as your brother catches you by the waist, trying to keep you on your side of the booth as you tear at his hands to get across the booth.
Seeing the attack of opportunity while you’re subdued, Victra shoots to her feet. Angel is fast as an adder, one moment sitting in Vernon’s lap and the next striking Victra down into the booth, knee planted in her stomach. Vernon does nothing to stop his girlfriend, opting instead to reach for a water bottle, unscrewing it to take a sip as his girlfriend pins Victra down to the seat with little effort.
Noticing for the first time that their friend is in distress, the two women with Mingyu lift their heads. As soon as one starts to slide from his lap to reach for Angel, you kick a foot out, striking the bucket of alcohol and ice. The bucket goes flying at her, hitting her hard in the face. She screams, crumbling in Mingyu’s lap, cradling her face.
Mingyu and Soonyoung are on their feet in seconds, soaked from the waist down and trying to gain control of the situation as it spirals. Mingyu becomes a blockade between Victra’s two friends, trying to keep them on their side of the booth. Soonyoung is prying a bottle from a hand before it can make its way toward you, yelling something indecipherable.
Angel is still pressing her knee deep into Victra’s gut. Victra’s attention has diverted from you entirely as she screams like a wounded animal, pushing and scratching at Angel’s knee to try and get her off. You’re sure it hurts, but Angel doesn’t budge, sinking her weight into it.
Leaning down, you grab something to lob at them - someone’s shoe - but Seungcheol manages to haul you off your feet and spin you, planting you into the booth behind him. You growl, shoving at his legs to move him out of the way, trying to re-engage.
“Fucking hell,” he grunts. “Are you fucking juicing? Why are you so strong?”
“It’s the drugs,” Wonwoo offers unhelpfully. “Really top of the line drugs.”
“Shut up, Wonwoo!” Both you and Seungcheol bark at the same time.
Wonwoo holds up his hands, leaning back into the seat as he watches the mess unfold with a delighted grin. You strike out with your foot, slamming against the booth’s table, shoving it in Soonyoung’s direction. You hear glass shatter as more things fall off the table, clattering to the ground. There are shrieks and curses that you can’t see with Seungcheol blocking the way.
“He’s a fucking asshole!” You seethe to your brother, panting with rage.
“He is, and you did exactly what he wanted you to do.” You try to kick the table again but he stops you, grabbing your knee. You feel like you can’t get enough air, sweat slicking your skin and the velvet of the couch too sharp against your flesh. “Soonyoung loves a fight when he’s fucked up. You know that.”
“Well fuck him!”
He pulls the stick from his mouth, candied stim gone. He tosses it onto the floor and looks over his shoulder where Mingyu and Soonyoung are corralling the three women out of the booth. “God, Angel broke that girl's rib I think. Hahahha!”
“I want to break her fucking face!”
“I think you broke her friend's face. She is fucked up. That bucket hit her right in the eye. What a shot.”
“If you’re so entertained, why’d you get in my way?”
“There’s a lot of eyes here.” You glance around, noticing other booths looking at you, people ducking toward one another to whisper. “You have an image to maintain.”
Adjusting your shirt, you settle back into the booth. “Alright. Alright I’m good.”
When Seungcheol moves out of the way to take a seat, Soonyoung replaces him. You glare up at him, feeling your anger curl up in you again. His lips twitch, a hint of a smirk as he sits down next to you, sighing heavily and tilting his head to look up at the flashing lights.
The girls are nowhere to be found. Angel is sitting back down next to Vernon who hasn’t moved, and there are servers picking up the mess you made. Mingyu is notably absent, though you can guess where he’s gone for the night. He’s good at making scorned lovers feel better about their bad luck.
“Jealousy is crazy on you,” Soonyoung notes, tonguing the inside of his cheek as he glances at you sidelong. “I kind of like it.”
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” you warn. He laughs, the fight totally leaving him. “I’m serious. Don’t ever do that to me again, Soonyoung. Not to me.”
“Alright, alright. When you say jump, right?”
Soonyoung’s fingers brush against yours. Just the rough feeling of his calluses against the tips of your fingers has you shivering, anger replaced with want. He doesn’t take your hand, doesn’t move to do anything else but lean back in silence with your fingers touching.
Resigned, you say nothing else to him. You’d got what you wanted - sort of - even if you know you made an ass out of yourself doing it. It isn’t the first time he’s made you jealous, but it is the first time it’s boiled over so violently.
You remind yourself not to do frostbyte when you’re mad anymore.
You turn your attention to where Angel is snorting frostbyte up her nose off of her boyfriend’s phone, accidentally turning on the hologram as she does, her face suddenly caged by green screen data. You call her name gently. She looks up at you, pupils blown, reflecting the lights dancing above like dark glass. “Thanks,” you offer.
Her grin is too wide, teeth too white. She reminds you of a demon more than she does an angel. “Anytime.”
When you settle back in, you glance at Soonyoung once. He looks down at you, smirking a single time before he leans into you and rests his head on your shoulder. You feel him melt into you, sighing as his eyes close and he nuzzles a little closer. You put your hand on his thigh, squeezing once before you leave it there, feeling the heat of his skin through his pants.
It isn’t until he’s almost asleep, pressed as close as possible to you that you realize maybe he got what he wanted too.
Rain washes over the black city, the mist turning the thousands of digital and holographic advertisements into a watercolor smear of neon. It smells wet and like rot, the drains overworked and belching water and trash back out into the street as you walk, feet splashing.
You quickly duck out of the way of a group of rowdy men spilling from a bar. You can smell the drink on them, their feet sloshing in the rising water of the street as they dredge toward the next bar. They whistle at the pretty girls dressed in light up raincoats and flickering green contacts, stumbling toward a brothel instead of the bar.
Gripping your umbrella tighter, you quicken your steps. Grease smoke drifts toward you from various hawker carts, the sizzle of meat making your stomach growl. You ignore them, knowing you have dinner with your family later as you take a corner and plunge into the darkness of an underground stairwell.
The LEDs on your umbrella cast a pink light as you descend the stairs, careful not to slip on the caked grime. Two guards stand outside metal double doors, music pulsing faintly behind it. They look you up and down, ready to deny entry until you state your name at the bottom of the steps.
“ID?” the one on the right asks, giving you a critical eye.
Of course he doesn't believe you. The daughter of the Tower would never walk anywhere without a body guard, especially in this part of the city. You spin the umbrella, the pink coalescing as he takes the phone from your hand and taps it, blue lighting up his face when your ID and profile appear in holographic data above the screen.
He clears his throat and bows at the waist. When his counterpart doesn’t, he smacks him hard on the back, making the man lean over. “Apologies, Miss Choi. Right this way.”
Music hits you full on when the doors open, the base creating static in the air. You cringe as it vibrates through your ribcage and teeth, wondering how anyone could stand to be in a club this loud. Popping the umbrella shut, you let your eyes adjust while one security guard remains at the door, shutting it behind you, and the other hands you your ID.
“Should I escort you to the office, Miss?”
Writhing bodies dance together, scintillating like snakes in a pit. Above them, lasers and holograms light up the world with flashes of colors you didn’t even know existed. A wide bar stretches to the left of the floor, lit up by soft cyan lights. Behind it, the bartenders move in a blur, the glow on their clothes turning them ethereal.
You glance at the security guard, who waits patiently before shaking your head. You point to the space above the bar where there are two large, mirrored windows looking out into the club. “Up there?”
“Yes,” he answers, hesitating. “Let me escort you.”
With a roll of your eyes you nod, gesturing to him to lead the way. He clears a path, clubbers and workers alike moving out of his way when he shoves them. You walk behind him, swinging your head from side-to-side as you look at the people, fascinated.
People with spikes pierced in their skin and whorling tattoos with glow ink stare back at you, glowing contact lenses and gemmed teeth all taking you in. You rarely get to mix in with the crowd that partakes in more unique cosmetic alterations and fashion, fascinated by someone who walks by with red glowing face tattoos like a demon mask.
At the foot of the stairs, the guard lets you walk up first. It’s clear of people, so he remains standing at the bottom, taking up an imposing position with his hands linked in front of him, blocking the stairway entirely.
The thud of music vibrates through your boots as you climb the stairs, greeting another security guard. You can tell he’s already been warned you’re here - he bows immediately and keys in the pad at the door, opening the office for you.
You pass by him airily, stepping into the dry and much cooler office. The door closes behind you, immediately cutting off the sound with high–tech sound proofing. Soonyoung is leaning against the bar, his back to the door as he watches out the windows, a glass in his hand.
“What in the fuck are you doing?” he asks, tossing you a look over his shoulder. You grin, skipping over to him. He doesn’t grin back, looking you up and down as you join him. You reach for the decanter he’s drinking from but he smacks your hand, viper fast. “Not a chance.”
“What? Why not?”
“You shouldn’t be here, much less without a security team. The Tower will be livid.”
“The Tower doesn’t have to know.”
Soonyoung’s jaw flexes. “The security team will tell him you were here.”
“Not if you tell them not to.”
“Baby,” he sighs, tilting his head up and closing his eyes. You lean against the bar, watching him. The lights from the club are dimmer in here, but they flash against his face, painting him in golden light. He’s beautiful. “What are you doing here?”
“Angel said you had a bad day.”
“I always have a bad day. And tell Angel to shut her mouth.”
You snort. “You tell her that.”
That gets a grin out of him. He lowers his head, dark gaze finding yours. “You can’t just walk around the Lower City without a personal guard, Baby.”
“I’m not helpless.”
“I know you’re not. I’m not either but people try to rob me all the time. You, on the other hand, are a lot prettier of a prize than I am.”
“So you think I’m pretty?”
This time when Soonyoung sighs, it’s affectionate. He sips his glass of amber liquid, turning to watch the crowd outside the office. He holds out his glass to you, a concession. You grin further, accepting it from him and bring it up to your nose to smell. You don’t know anything about liquor, but from the spiced scent you can tell it’s good quality.
You take a tiny sip. It goes down smooth - strong, but good and warm. Instead of giving him the glass back, you cradle it to your chest, leaning against the bar next to him close enough that your arms are almost touching. He continues looking out at the crowd, keen eyes serious and back to work while you look at him.
Soonyoung is beautiful. His side profile is lethal, the slope of his neck elegant, the curve of his jaw sharp but delicate, his high cheekbones catching the light. His eyes are dark pools, reflecting the snatches of light that come through the dark windows.
“Did you come here to stare at me?” he asks, never taking his eyes off the crowd.
“What if I said I did?”
His mouth twitches at the corner. “Unfortunately I would believe you.”
Watching over clubs isn’t usually Soonyoung’s job. But this club is in a terrible part of the city and isn’t worth much to the Choi Syndicate, so sometimes he’s awarded the opportunity to prove himself to your father and to the elders of the Syndicate that he’s competent and capable of leadership, despite the fact you’ve always known him to be.
Soonyoung isn’t meant for leading like Seungcheol. But there is a certain level of loyalty and understanding he has to cultivate with the heavies of the family, the Swords who carry out the bloody tasks of removing people from the way and keeping assets safe. His father had been the Sentinel of your family for years until his death, and Soonyoung is expected to pick up that mantle.
This is all a part of that. Soonyoung already has the loyalty of the security team running this hole in the wall, alerting him the second you arrived and refusing to let you go up the stairs alone. Had they failed to do that, you might think a little less of them.
Soonyoung also probably would have had them beaten.
Finally, Soonyoung turns to look at you. He sighs and raises his brows expectantly.
“What?” you ask.
“What did you come here for? Real answer, this time.”
“I told you. Angel said you had a bad day. That is my real answer.”
“And?”
You shrug, sipping from the glass and turning toward the windows. “I wanted to make it a better one.”
That makes him go silent. You can see him turn to look at you, his stormy gaze pinning you to the spot. You don’t look at him, letting him stare as you nurse the drink and watch the dancing crowd down below. They’re beautiful, in a way, an ocean of bodies saying as colors turn them blue and then green and then bright red and then lavender.
Soonyoung leans toward you, bumping his head on yours lightly. That gets a laugh out of you, stomach fluttering and wishing he would stay leaned against you. He pulls away though, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his eyes back to his job.
“Thank you,” he finally says, voice quiet. “It is already a better day.”
The silence is comfortable. You eventually give him the drink back and he takes it, tongue darting out to lick the lip gloss you left. He hums. “Cherries.”
“You’re gross.”
He smiles into the glass, taking a sip. “I actually have something for you.”
“A present?”
He snorts. “Not exactly. Go to the desk - top drawer on the right.”
Eagerly, you do as he says. The heavy wooden desk sits in the back of the room, imposing even without the metal lockers behind it with weapons. You ignore the heavy guns under padlocks and go for the drawer in question.
A rectangular box is in the drawer Soonyoung specified, unmarked. You turn it over in your hands, curious. It’s not very heavy and fits mostly in your palm.
“Bring it over here.”
You do, trailing back to Soonyoung. He extends his hand and you pass it over to him, watching with interest as he cracks the box open with the sheer strength of his fingers. He pulls out a small device, a wire and what looks to be a plug, tossing the box to the bar.
“Do you know what this is?” he asks, holding up the device.
It’s a small rectangle with a keypad and a screen. You raise your brows in surprise. “It is a very old phone.”
“It is.” He smiles, pleased with your answer. He passes the materials over to you and you hold them against your chest. “That’s the charger and the charging cord. It’s one of the old kinds of phones that requires a phone tower. There are barely any in the city.”
“And what is this gift for?”
“I own the phone towers that support it.” You raise your brows. Soonyoung rarely spends the inheritance his parents left behind, so you’re surprised. “It only has a single phone number programmed into it that will call the one I have.”
At this, he reaches into his pocket and produces the phone’s twin. He shakes it for emphasis, pressing a button and lighting up the screen. “You have to make sure to keep it charged. I want you to have it for emergencies only. And I mean emergencies, Baby. This is a last resort kind of device, alright?”
You chew your bottom lip, dragging your eyes to look up at him. “Why?”
“Because I need to know that you always have a last resort.” His gaze darkens. “Clearly your assigned security team lets you give them the slip. I need to know that you can hit the dial on this faster than you can on our phones. They’re overly complicated and not quick. With this?”
He reaches over and turns on the phone in your hand. Once booted, he presses the one button. The device in his hand starts ringing. “Direct and fast access to me at all times. Do it even if you can’t tell me where you are. I’ll find you.”
Emotion twists your throat. You grip the phone with a vice grip, looking up at him with wide eyes. His face is serious. He slips his phone in his pocket, turning back to do his job. “I will answer,” he promises. “It doesn’t matter when and where. I will answer that phone even if I’m dying. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
He nods. “Good.”
A knock on your door wakes you up from a dreamless sleep. Darkness spills across your room like ink as you slip from your bed, cursing when you kick the corner of your nightstand. With a raspy voice, you ask the automated room assistant to turn on the nightlights, a hazy purple immediately lighting the circumference of your room.
Squinting against the lavender glow, you pad over your room to open the door. Soonyoung is leaning heavily against the wall just beyond the threshold, his chin tucked to his chest and his hair sweaty and clinging to his temples.
He doesn’t move when you open the door, the lilac light casting an eerie radiance on the side of his face. It’s hard to make out his expression in the lurking shadow of the hallway, and he offers no explanation for why he’s knocking on your door at three in the morning.
“Soonyoung?” you whisper, eyes darting down the hall. No one else is around. “Where are Cheol and Vernon?”
“S’cheol is still working. Vernon went to stay at Angel’s.”
“Are you - Soonyoung are you drunk? Or high?”
“Yeah.”
Both you realize. You can deal with both.
Grabbing him by the hand, you tug him gently. He pushes off the wall with heavy steps, stumbling through your open door and into the room. You grip him tighter, shutting your door with a gentle click before turning around to face him.
Soonyoung won’t look at you, turning his face away as he sways a little where he stands. Now that you can see him fully, you realize that there is blood on the collar of his shirt. Heart thudding, your hands reach for it, peeling it back to look at his neck. Specs of dry crimson flake from sweaty skin, making your terror reach new heights.
He shrugs you off. “Not mine.”
“I - what’s going on?”
Instead of answering you, he walks a few crooked steps toward your bed and sits down on the edge. Licking your lips, you approach him slowly. He’s slouched over, elbows pressed to his knees as his head hangs heavily. He still hasn’t looked at you properly and you’re aching to see his eyes. You can always understand him better when you see his eyes, able to read the depth of emotions hiding beneath his mask.
When you reach him, you crouch down. Instead of grabbing for him again and risking him pulling away, you rest your hands on top of your knees. When afraid or upset, Soonyoung is like a cornered animal. You don’t know whether he’s in fight or flight, both just as dangerous as the next.
“Soonyoung,” you say again gently. You watch his every move. “You’re scaring me. Do you need me to call Cheol or Vernon?”
If Seungcheol is working the circuit, he isn’t the best to call. Late night circuits include going from club to club under the Choi banner to monitor the drug trafficking and attend small business meetings as appropriate. Seungcheol will drop whatever he’s doing for you in a heartbeat, but it’s more complicated than that.
In theory, Vernon is easier to get a hold of. He’s already off work and though he might not answer his phone if you call, you know his girlfriend will. Plus, the blood on Soonyoung’s shirt and skin can give you a guess at what’s happened, and Vernon is more equipped for that type of thing than you are.
“Let me call Vernon-”
“No,” he finally says. “No. Sorry. I just.”
Your chest squeezes in pain. It’s like you can feel the torture radiating through him, feel the weight of whatever it is that’s dragging him down yourself. Desperation drives you to reach out toward him slowly, watching for any sign of startling him. When he doesn’t move to pull away, you touch him gently, squeezing his knee gently. “What do you need?”
“My dad always said I should feel something.” His words are halting, coming out slurred. You wait, holding your breath as he works through them. “Always said that you should feel something when you kill someone. If you don’t, it means you’re nothing more than a beast with base instincts. Not intelligent or refined.”
It takes everything in you not to let your grip turn to steel at his words. Instead, you rub your hand up and down his thigh soothingly, saying nothing. Soonyoung has never killed someone before. You would know if he had. He’s the last in your immediate circle of friends beside yourself to take on the weight of stealing life, and you’ve dreaded this day for a long time.
Murder is an inevitability in your family. Keeping the Choi Syndicate on top requires sacrifice, cruelty and cunning. Soonyoung had started serving as an officially ranked member of the Syndicate over a year ago, and though he had fucked up a lot of people and brought them to the brink of death, he hadn’t actually done it yet.
“I felt nothing,” he whispers, voice thick. “Fucking nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was no guilt. I didn’t even flinch. It was so easy, like fucking breathing. That’s not what my dad wanted me to be. He always said that those who felt nothing were just… baser creatures. That we were better because we were… made better.”
“I think your dad wanted a lot of things. You being alive was the most important of those things, Soonyoung.”
“I’m just tired of feeling fucking empty. I don’t give a shit that I killed someone, Baby. Honestly? I was fucking looking forward to it. I thought maybe - just maybe - I would feel something, even if it was guilt or horror or satisfaction. There was nothing.”
You have no idea what to say. Instead of words, you surge forward, letting go of Soonyoung’s knee to push yourself between his thighs, wrapping your arms around his middle. He flinches for a moment, arms hanging dead at his side as you press your cheek to his chest, squeezing.
Inside, you feel your heart crack open. You shove down the overwhelming sense of despair on his behalf, instead focused on him. There’s nothing to say with words, and you hope he can feel what you’re trying to tell him through touch, that he can feel everything you don’t know how to say as you hold him tight, clinging to him.
Slowly, his arms encircle you. It takes him a moment, but he applies a little pressure back. It makes you scoot in more, pressed as close as you can get to him. He buries his face in your neck, his breaths warm and smelling like tequila. He smells like him too, vanilla and sandalwood.
“I don’t feel like a person sometimes,” he whispers. “It’s like the ability for me to feel anything died forever ago. Like I killed it so that I didn’t ever have to hurt again. Now I only ever feel when-”
He cuts himself off and sinks into you a little more. You bear his weight, willing to carry any burden for him. You don’t think he realizes that he could ask you to jump and you’d say how high. You’ve always been willing to jump for him, always willing to do whatever he wants, whatever he needs.
Gently, you ask, “You only ever feel when what? You can tell me if you want. Whatever you need.”
“I feel when I’m with you.” Soonyoung whispers it like it’s a secret he doesn’t want you to hear. You feel the words hit your skin where he speaks them, a shiver slithering through you. His grip on you tightens a little with the admission, like now that he’s said it, he can’t let go. Won’t. “I feel most like a person when I’m with you.”
Pressing the flat of your hand to his back, you begin to stroke up and down slowly, touch following the careful ridges of his spine. He sighs, shivering in your hold. You want nothing more than to take the pain or whatever he’s feeling away, to rip it from him and to destroy it.
The fierceness of your love for him is hard to tamp down. A fiery admission of your feelings for him isn’t what he needs right now. You know Soonyoung like the inside of your own soul, everything that makes him tick, every habit he’s picked up over the years. You can sense him standing lost at sea, needing an anchor. Needing you.
“Okay,” you say softly. “So stay with me. Be a person with me.”
“I’m not made for you.”
“Yes you are.” Your nails dig into his back through his shirt, pressing sharply. The desire to covet him is so intense it overtakes you. “If I make you a person, then how could we be made for anyone but one another?”
Silence greets your logic. You stay holding him like that, desperate to keep him there, terrified he’ll shrug you off and get up. He’s done it before, shucking off your affection like something to be disposed of. And still you give it to him freely, begging him to take it.
He doesn’t shy away from you. Instead you feel him nod, mouth brushing tenderly across your throat in the ghost of a kiss. “If I stay right now, you will never get me to leave. Do you understand? I won’t… I will be incapable of ever letting you go. Ever. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
You hug him tighter. “Try to leave me at your own peril, Kwon Soonyoung.”
“Where’s your other half?” the voice causes you to turn from where you lean against the bar. Angel slides up next to you, cocking her head as she does. She looks like a wraith, dressed in a rain slicker over black long-sleeved shirt that’s tucked into black pants. Her jacket and combat boots are wet, suggesting it’s still raining outside. “You’re usually attached at the hip. My therapist calls that codependency. Says Hansol and I have it too.”
“Does your therapist also know you’re a murderer?” you mutter. The bartender slides drinks over to you and you nod in thanks. “Or that you’re only seeing her because Jeonghan made a bet with you? Or that your job often involves extortion? What does she think about that?”
As a Rook of the Choi Syndicate, Angel’s job is a far cry from the holy nickname she’s sported since she was a child. Like Vernon, her role within your father’s empire is to collect debts owed to the Choi family and to remind them never to fall behind on payments. Other times, she’s simply used as a good tool to put the fear of god into enemies of the Choi family, and she’s good at it.
Raised under the careful tutelage of the Yoon family, there’s no weakness Angel can’t find and use. The only one better at it than her is her step brother, who is probably sitting next to your brother behind closed doors somewhere in the Choi Estate holding a meeting.
As Seungcheol’s future second in command, it’s Jeonghan’s responsibility to learn the ropes just like your brother. One day, it’ll be the two of them leading your family, a thought that makes you cringe with worry.
Angel answers your question with a shrug. “I’m sure she knows I’m into some shit. I’m learning all kinds of new things about myself.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“I don’t like therapy. And I kind of want to ask my therapist why she thinks she’s qualified for therapy when she’s fucking three of her clients.”
A snort escapes you as you shake your head. Of course Angel knows that about her own therapist. Lifting the two drinks on the bar, you drift away from her, eyes flicking over the Rook. “Stay out of trouble, Angel. And give Vernon my love.”
She grins, wicked sharp and deadly. “No bar fights, hmm? Enjoy the party.”
The party in question is exhausting. You’ve been playing pretty princess all night, saying hello to all of the right people, shaking all of the jeweled hands, kissing all of the right asses. You’re exhausted and the tension in your shoulder has been knotting further and further.
Once upon a time you would have been thankful to at least not be Seungcheol. He shouldered a lot more responsibility. Now you’ve realized that you don’t shoulder less than him - it’s just different. If Seungcheol is the sword and shield of the Syndicate, you’re the face and smile. Galas, charities, celebrity events - it’s a never ending stream of smile, pose, shake hands.
It doesn’t hide the fact that you sit on a throne that belongs to a criminal empire, of course. But it’s also no secret that the Three Syndicates run the city. Your family has long been one of the stalwart backbones of the government and city infrastructure. Only the Kim family and the Yong family come close.
Still, appearances are everything. Especially when the Yong family owns most of the media outlets, weaponizing it against the Choi Syndicate every chance they get. You make it harder for them, using your appearances and platforms like a carefully wielded sword.
Spotting Soonyoung among those dressed in dark security uniforms is easy. He nearly blends in with the dark pipe and drape that has been set up all over the ballroom of your home, but you could find him anywhere, your internal compass pointing to him even in the dark.
Soonyoung’s eyes alight on you, sharp and intense. His face is a cool mask of indifference, but you can see the way interest sparks in his eyes as he drinks you in. He’s already seen you in your dress tonight, but it doesn’t stop him from refamiliarizing himself, eyes tracing every dip and curve.
God you wish you were somewhere else with him. Specifically wrapped in the gray sheets of his bed, sweat-slicked and out of breath.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you say shyly, handing him a drink.
He takes it and looks up at you, arching a brow. “I can’t drink this, I’m working.”
“It’s just soda with lime, the way you like it.”
His lips twitch in a smile as he takes a sip, nodding in confirmation. He doesn’t reach out to you and hold you close like you know he wants to, respecting the propriety of his position and the fact that he is on the clock right now.
“You look tired,” he murmurs, eyes studying your face.
So does he. As an official Sword of the Choi family, his job keeps him out late, bloodied, and tired. He’s completely changed from the man who sank into your arms that first night he killed someone, hardened into someone that your father sends to do just that often.
A weapon. A Sword. A trusted knife in the dark for the Choi family.
You think Soonyoung is more capable than being a heavy for your dad and his associates. Soonyoung is intelligent and sharp, having gained perspective and a wealth of knowledge from living with your family. Still, his dad had been the leader of the hired guns for the Choi Syndicate. Soonyoung is an efficient killer, his fate bound by his father long ago.
“When are you off tonight?” you ask instead of telling him how tired he looks.
“I’m not.” You frown. He sips his drink again and gives you a soft smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s been busy. The Yong family are getting in our way at the docks. I gotta head down there with Vernon and Jeonghan after the party.”
“The Yongs are doing it outright?”
“No. We’re pretty confident it’s them though. Jeonghan is working on it. If we can bring the Xu family under our wing, it would be a lot easier to push them out.”
“They have a son,” you note, thinking about the last event you attended where the Xu heir was in attendance. “Maybe marriage to one of our big hitters? Nexus Capital has an heiress.”
“I’ll mention it to Jeonghan. Who the fuck would want an arranged marriage, though?”
“Not me,” you laugh, wiping the eyelash you spot on his cheek gently. He gives you a tired, albeit affectionate smile. “You’ve been working nonstop. Tell Seungcheol you need a night off.”
“We both know it’s not Seungcheol working me to the bone, Baby.”
Swallowing thickly, you turn away from him under the guise of scanning the crowd. You know you don’t fool him. Both you and Soongyoung know your father does not approve of your relationship, taking it out on Soonyoung to keep him busy and away from you.
Your father would never hurt Soonyoung directly. You know that. He loves him like a son - sees his late best friend in the features of the man that Soonyoung has been shaped into under his care and tutelage. When you started dating Soonyoung seriously, you thought your parents might be happy. They adore him and they loved his parents just as much.
Soonyoung is below your station, though.
Your father will never say it outright. He wouldn’t insult his late friend’s son that way. But the way your father works Soonyoung harder than anyone else, holding him to a standard he doesn’t even keep for his highest level of men, you realize how deep the dissatisfaction goes. Even your mother’s adoration of Soonyoung does little to shield him from the petty assignments, try as she might.
Still, you don’t care. And at the end of the day, neither does Soonyoung. As long as he gets to have you, he’s willing to put up with the petty assignments and the working late.
“Hey,” Soonyoung says gently, bringing your attention back to him. He finishes his drink and sets it on a banquet table nearby. His eyes are averted, looking somewhere across the room as his hand slips around your waist to squeeze you quickly and press a kiss to your temple. “I’ve got to go - I’ve got a meeting with Vernon before we head out tonight. I’ll see you when I’m done. Probably won’t be until late morning.”
“Alright,” You sigh. His hand slips from your waist and you wish you could pull him back to you. “Love you.”
He grins brightly, giving you a wink before he melts into the crowd, weaving around party goers. Your heart squeezes when you lose sight of him.
Someone clearing their throat catches your attention. You spin around to see Lan, one of your father’s personal Swords nodding politely at you. “Your father wishes to see you in the West Parlor. I’m to escort you.”
“Oh. Sure.” You set your drink down on the banquet table, wiping your damp hands on your dress. “Lead the way.”
People bow their heads in respect as you go. You keep an even pace with Lan, which is hard to do with his long strides and your strappy heels digging into your ankles. He slows for your benefit and you give him a grateful smile, the swelling noise from the party leaving you behind as you step out of the ballroom and walk toward the west wing of the house.
Some people mill about the halls of the estate. You can spot the members of the Syndicate who are on duty, mostly Swords that belong to the security force employed under the Choi family. You spot Chan leaning against a wall while gesturing broadly with his hands as he speaks to the owner of a new club on the edge of the Pearl District. When he catches your stare, Chan winks before focusing his attention back on the owner. Probably trying to work out some sort of deal or partnership, as is his job.
The west wing of the house is quiet and off limits to the rest of the party. Your bedroom is just up two flights of stairs, your bed calling your name as you pass under the stairwell into the hallway that belongs to the West Parlor, the library, the study and your father’s billiards room.
Old Man Vero is standing outside your fathers study, his hands linked in front of him and his head straight forward. He glances your way as Lan leans you toward the door, cracking a bit of a smile on his leathery face and giving you a wink. You grin, lightly reaching out and touching his elbow as Lan opens the door for you. Your father’s Swords have been in your life since you were a child, permanent figures of fixed loyalty and familiarity.
They love you like they love your father, like they love your brother. It isn’t pure fear and power that keeps the Choi Syndicate together. Your father has plenty of that among the ranks, but the loyalty and love between him and his higher ranking members is real. Critical. It was a skill he taught you and Seungcheol, both of you arming yourself with your own shield of friends and confidants.
Your father sits in a leather armchair, leaned back with his eyes closed. Next to him, a cigar smokes in the ashtray, threatening to go out as the thin wisps of smoke vanish into the air. An old fashioned record player echoes in the far corner of the room, smoothe notes vibrating through the air.
“Tower,” you greet him formally, bowing at the waist. “How can I be of service to the family?”
His eyes flutter open and he looks at you tiredly. He looks so much like your brother that it’s uncanny, sometimes. But his youth has worn off, his age more and more evident these days as he spreads himself thin expanding the Choi empire. Your mother has asked him - begged him - to give more responsibility to Seungcheol, but he refuses.
At least you know where your stubborn streak comes from.
“So formal,” he notes, his lips twitching upward. He gestured for you to sit in one of the arm chairs. You do, smoothing your dress carefully as you sit. Behind you, Lan exits the room, the soft click of the door behind you. “You were always a better student than your brother.”
“That’s because he’s a man.”
A hearty laugh makes you grin, feeling a flutter of fondness. He was never an overly affectionate father, but he’s always been kind, though firm. You respect him, which is saying something in your world.
“Spoken like an intelligent woman,” he sighs. You wait patiently, watching as he seems to gather his words. Your stomach knots, sensing a trepidation about him that you’re not used to. “Your intelligence has always been your best asset, though you’re a little hot-headed like your brother.”
“Steadfast is the mountain,” you say, quoting the Choi family motto.
He grins and adds your mother’s family moniker, “But the fire does burn. I knew marrying your mother was a good choice. Marrying the right person is paramount in this life. Family unions can make or break an empire, and they forge old alliances anew or secure new alliances.”
A prickle down your spine makes you sit straighter. You had implied as much earlier to Soonyoung about the Xu family, knowing marriage was a viable option to bring the shipping mogul into the Choi empire. Now, though, the notion has you on edge, watching him like a frightened cat.
“I didn’t pick your mother, you know,” he muses, his eyes unfocusing somewhere far away. “But when my father recommended her, I knew he was right. I was familiar with her, of course. We went to school together. Fought like cats, but she was so intelligent and fierce.”
You’ve heard this story before. Your father hadn’t loved her to start, but your mother had loved him right away. Had always known that she loved him. She’d shown up at one of his billiard nights and told him exactly how she felt, asserting that they would be married and that he would be loyal to her.
He’d fallen in love with her that night.
He sighs heavily. “I see a lot of your mother in you.”
“Don’t let her hear you sound so disappointed. She might be offended.”
“She’s better than me,” he says. His eyes focus on you, flicking back to appraise you. Sweat slicks on your back and only years of training keep you from not fidgeting under his weighty gaze. “But it would be easier sometimes if you were more like me. Less fire, more mountain. Still, you are rational, so let us speak plainly: you are going to marry the Kim family heir.”
Silence hangs in the air. You stare at him, your brain taking a moment to catch up with his words. It’s like you’re moving in slow motion, processing the firmness in his voice, the way he looks at you with heavy countenance.
You are going to marry the Kim family heir.
A high-pitched ringing starts in your ears and you feel the buzz of panic start to tingle at the base of your spine. Your fingers dig into the arms of your chair a little, trying to fight the staccato rhythm of your heart from getting out of control.
“What?” you ask. It feels dumb, compared to the eloquence you’re capable of.
“Kim Yijun is a perfect match,” he says simply. “He’s in line to inherit the Kim Syndicate. There is tension with the Yong family, and I will not lie to you: they have a far larger reach than we would like. They don’t do things the old way like the Choi and Kim families. They have started to ally themselves with the Arash family in Veridian, giving them cuts and room in our city to spread their reach outside the bounds of their own city.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The Kim and Choi families have been united before. They’ve always been our first ally in times of city upheaval and Syndicate war, and they, like us, don’t believe in letting outsiders have a seat at the table. The Yong family don’t understand that, and are willing to let vermin have scraps if it means scooting us out.”
“I’m-” you shake your head. “You can’t ask that of me.”
“I’m not asking.” He reaches for a lighter and picks up the cigar. He takes a moment to relight it, taking his focus off of you. You feel your pulse spiking, your grip on the chair like iron. “I am telling you that this is what your future will be. I understand you like the Kwon boy, but-”
You sneer, baring your teeth. “The Kwon boy? Don’t reduce him to some stranger. Soonyoung grew up in this house, he is family. And I don’t just like him, I love him. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you bullying him because you’re frustrated that I love him. You love him too.”
“I do. I love him like my own. But he is not for you.”
“He is. I will not marry Yijun. I am asking you not as a member of this Syndicate, but as your daughter to drop this machination from your plans. I am your blood, you cannot ask this of me.”
“I told you, I am not asking. I am telling you.”
A tremor starts in your hands. Your heart races so fast that you feel sick, sweat slicking your skin as you begin to pant sharply. The ringing in your ears grows until you feel disconnected to it, like suddenly you’re living in third person. You’re aware that you’re hyperventilating and yet, suddenly it’s separate from you.
Standing abruptly, you feel the world tilt. You take a second to steady yourself, feeling the numb tingle spread throughout you like a flood.
“Sit down,” your father demands. You hear the warning. Recognize the firmness in it. This is the Tower of the Choi Syndicate speaking, not your father.
“Take this as my resignation from the family,” you tell him. Your voice doesn’t feel like your own, steady and without inflection. “I’ll renounce my inheritance and will not use the Choi family for any connection or advantages-”
“You will not!”
His voice startles you. Lures you away from the safety of your detachment. You look at him, eyes wide and shaking. His hand is fisted on the armchair, his rage crackling around him like a thunderstorm. “I will not have my only daughter sabotage everything this family has built for the affection of someone unfit for her station. Kwon Soonyoung is a weapon meant to serve you. You will marry Kim Yijun or I will remove the obstacle altogether.”
Your entire life there have been two versions of your father. The stoic leader of one of the oldest criminal empires in Hyperion, the vicious man who could be cold and calculating, and who was reverently feared by his enemies. The kind father who watched you and Seungcheol study math together, carefully explaining to you how to carry numbers over in the equation.
It is the former who sits before you now. Someone entirely unfamiliar to you, though you’ve always known he existed. And why would you? Your father has never had to be ruthless with you before, hiding the way he could cut from you until it was necessary.
Soonyoung knew. You know it with absolute clarity. You remember the fear in his eyes when you had slipped into his room that night asking for a kiss, the way that he is always so careful about when and where he touches you, the way he takes the assignments and the mistreatment without so much as a protest because it means he gets to have you.
“You would kill him?” you whisper, looking your father in the eye. “You promised to take him in when his family was murdered. He had no one, and you promised his father you’d raise him as your own. You would go back on that?”
He scowls. “If his father knew what he was, he’d kill Soonyoung himself. That boy is a dog to be set upon whoever his owner wishes, who kills with impunity.” You say nothing. I don’t feel like a person. Soonyoung’s words echo in your mind, haunting. “I hold the collar and I will put him down, if need be.”
“So you raised a pet to be disposed of at your convenience?”
“I raised a boy who should be grateful I haven’t put him in the fucking ground for sullying my only daughter. I let you two have time, and you should be grateful. It is my love for him that has stayed my hand this long. No more. You will marry Kim Yijun, or you will bury that boy. This is the command of your Tower.”
“Mother will not let you-”
“Your mother doesn’t let me do anything. I am the Tower of this family, and it does what I command. You will fall in line.”
Tears spill from your eyes. You suddenly feel like you’re standing on a cliff, the vertigo of nothingness at the bottom making you sick with fear. Desperation grips at you as you stare at your father, willing him to change his mind. Begging him.
His pity doesn’t come. There is only resolute silence, watching as you crumple in front of him, knees going weak as you abruptly sit - fall - on the floor. You bury your face in your hands, grief for something lost stealing your ability to maintain control before you’ve even given an answer.
I’m not made for you.
Soonyoung had tried to tell you a long time ago and you’d brushed him off. Of course he was made for you. He was all you’ve ever wanted, and you’ve always been given what you wanted. You made him whole, and he you. How could you not be made for one another.
“Please don’t do this to me. Daddy,” you whisper, trying to appeal to him with the little girl he loves. “Please, I love him.”
“Lan will escort you to your room.” You ignore his words, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, willing the tears to stop. You know later you’ll feel pathetic for the display of emotion, for the meltdown in the face of adversity. “You will announce your engagement at the end of the week.”
“Yes, Tower.”
“If you so much as remotely try to sneak around with him, I will put him in the ground and bear the weight of that grief for eternity.”
“Yes, Tower.”
“Know that I love you. We must make sacrifices for this family we wish not to. But you will make the sacrifice like I have so many times before. So will Soonyoung.”
You stand, limbs shaky as you look at your father, the heat of your mother’s rage fueling your gaze. “Yes, Tower.”
Sleep claws at you with greedy fingers, unwilling to give you up to the waking light of day. You groan, suspended in that moment of almost awake but achingly unaware. A brush of warm skin on your arm pulls you the rest of the way from heavy sleep, your thoughts sticky as they formulate and you open your eyes, squinting in the gray light of your room.
Squinting at the clock displayed on your nightstand, you realize it’s late morning. The tinted windows of your room keep out the sunlight, but a single panel has been adjusted to let some of the cloudy day in, a single shaft of gray spilling into your room like muddy water.
Warmth presses behind your back, the steady touch on your arm trailing up and down. For a second, you lean back into it, feeling your head thud against Soonyoung’s chest, his mouth pressing against the crown of your head. He drags his fingers up and down your arm absently, light as a feather. He smells like soap, a hint of his familiar vanilla and sandalwood.
“Have trouble sleeping?” the words are mumbled against you.
“Hmm?”
“There’s lines of crushed knockout on your nightstand, Baby.”
You look at the nightstand. Sure enough, the white pills you crushed are dusted across the surface. The reality of why you used them slams into you so suddenly that you stiffen, muscles locking.
Soonyoung notices immediately, his touch stilling. “What?”
Finding the words is impossible. You don’t know where to start, your father’s words make you dizzy. The sheets stick to your skin, Soonyoung’s warmth too hot to stand. You scramble from bed, kicking at the sheets and putting distance between you as you bolt toward the bathroom.
“Hey,” he calls after you. You don’t turn to look at him, the cool tile giving you goosebump as the lights flicker on. You close the door behind you firmly, pressing your back against it. Soonyoung’s knocks are immediate, his voice calling your name on the other side. “What’s wrong?”
The use of your name sours your stomach. You lurch forward, diving for the toilet as the contents of your stomach empty. The bile burns, your eyes watering as you press against the cold porcelain, clinging to it for life.
Soonyoung opens the door, letting himself in as you heave again. He’s quick to react, opening the medicine cabinet to remove an anti-nausea inhalent. He wordlessly pads over to you, crouching down to extend it toward you.
You avoid looking at him directly in the eye as you snatch it from him. His brows are pinched in concern, face swollen with what little sleep he got and mouth turned downward. Your stomach roils again but holds as you crack the inhalent and wave it under your nose, breathing in gently.
The stimulant makes your eyes water, but immediately the churning in your stomach subsides. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in and out slowly, trying to regulate yourself. Soonyoung watches in silence, his hands opening and closing at his sides like he wants to reach out and touch you but doesn’t.
When you open your eyes, there is so much love and concern on his face that you almost break right then and there. Instead, you clear your throat and straighten, tossing the medication in the trash.
“Thanks, just hungover. I need to shower.”
He looks doubtful. “Alright.”
Soonyoung stands, heading to the shower. You clear your throat and he pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Alone, please.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just want to shower.”
He says your name again. Not Baby. Not any other derivative. Your name. “You can talk to me.”
Your heart cracks. You panic. Your brain races for the only viable option. “I just want to take a fucking shower, Soonyoung.” You push yourself off the ground, scowling at him. He moves out of your way as you pass him, stunned to silence. “I don’t need you crowding my space every five seconds.”
Refusing to look at him as you hit the panel in the wall, you instead focus on the water that falls from the ceiling, a storm of heat and the smell of peppermint. You keep your back turned toward him, staring at the water as it heats, steam curling in tendrils where it hits the stone tiles.
“You can go,” you say sharply.
“Alright.”
The gentle click of the door when he leaves is barely audible over the hum of the shower. You let the rushing water lull you into a state of numbness, peeling your clothes off with unsteady, mechanical movements.
Hot water slicks off your shoulders. You close your eyes and hang your head, letting the feel of the peppering water sluice over your ears, eyes, nose, mouth. You let it blind your senses to nothing but the roar of water, blotting out everything else.
If I stay right now, you will never get me to leave.
You remember when Soonyoung whispered it against your skin just a few years ago, spoken carefully and clearly, a promise and a warning. He would never let you go. You had to let him go. Telling him what your father has asked of you - has threatened to take away from you - will only make Soonyoung’s feet dig in further.
For as long as you’ve known him, Soonyoung has been a covetous creature. You remember the night at the club he antagonized you just to see that spark of want, just to prove to himself it was him you wanted. You remember the way he clung to you in the dark of your bedroom, the only person who could ever make him whole. Who could make him feel.
Your father sees Soonyoung as a loyal attack dog - but it isn’t the Tower of the Choi Syndicate who holds Soonyoung’s collar. It never has been. Soonyoung has never asked your father how high.
Pressing your palms to your eyes, you start deep breathing exercises. In through your nose, out through your mouth. The shaking in your fingers begins to subside, the logic part of your brain turning on.
The threat on Soonyoung’s life is real. You saw the resolve in your father’s eye, the painful glint. He would hate to do it, but he would do it. You’re entwined too deep into your family’s affairs and business to vanish. There is nothing in the world you have that’s your own, no assets that are not connected to them in some way.
And if you tell Soonyoung, he’ll face the problem like he does everything that stands in his way: try to kill it.
For a split moment, your brain chases the thought like a mouse after cheese. Like a long math problem, you work out if it’s possible to commit patricide and get away with it. Your mother will never forgive you, but Seungcheol might. Your friends would - they’re loyal to you, especially Jeonghan and Angel.
The older generation, though-
You toss aside the thought almost as quickly as you thought of it - not because you don’t want to kill your father, but because it isn’t possible. Not just like that. There are too many pieces on the chessboard, too many domino effects spreading out in every direction if you take that route.
No. There is only a single path for you, set in motion by a hand with more power than you.
And there’s only one way you can move forward with Soonyoung.
There’s so much of your mother’s side of the family you’ve inherited. Her side has always been associated with the phoenix, the burning immortality of their name and their strength, a blazing glory. Your maternal relatives have always been the rage and the fire that was needed for a Syndicate to advance, a good partnership for the Choi’s who were cold and steadfast.
What you need now is the winter of the mountain, not the rage of the phoenix. You need to be a Choi.
Steadfast is the mountain.
You love Soonyoung. You love him you love him you love him youlovehimyoulovehimyoulovehimYOULOVEHIMYOULOVEHIM-
Pressing your fist to your mouth, you bite down for one, blinding moment of untapped rage. You feel your skin break, taste iron and salt, feel pain bloom.
Steadfast is the mountain.
Then it’s gone. You drop your hand from your mouth. Open your eyes. Turn off the shower. The rage is gone, buried beneath a layer of newly formed ice. If there is anyone you can do this for, it’s Soonyoung. You love him. You will destroy him. But he’ll be alive.
Soonyoung is sitting on your bed when you open the door. He’s got a tablet in his hand, the holographic images displaying above the screen, haloing his face in blue light. There are circles under his eyes and his teeth worry at his bottom lip, which is chapped. He’s shirtless, the compact planes of his body half shadowed by the single shaft of light filtering through a window.
He looks up at you but you ignore him, heading to your closet. The silence is brutal. You push through it, opening the closet doors to reveal a massive space nearly the same size of your bathroom. Track lights kick on, rows and rows of clothes by color greeting you. In the middle, there is an island counter, filled with drawers and biolocked jewelry safes.
Soft steps tell you Soonyoung is standing at the entrance of the closet. You still don’t face him, walking over to your section of black clothes. You flick through them, eyes scanning. Black seems appropriate. It feels like death, afterall.
Soonyoung’s voice is soft as his late night kisses. “What’s going on?”
“I’m marrying Kim Yijun.”
A beat passes. Then another.
“Is that supposed to be a joke? I’m not interested in pranks this morning.”
“It’s not a prank.” You pull out a black, silk dress. “The Tower has asked this of me, and I’ll be doing it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
You continue, undeterred as you put the dress back and keep looking. “The Kim family has agreed to the match ahead of the rising tensions with the Yong Syndicate and their new take on foreign allies. A united front of the old families will benefit our family-”
“You’re not fucking marrying Kim Yijun.”
“All of the metrics we’ve run for public opinion and potential city-wide reaction are favorable. The Tower needs his children to fall in line, and I intend to do so.”
Soonyoung storms toward you. You turn on your heel, holding a finger out to him, voice severe, “Don’t come near me.”
“Why? Because you know you’ll lose your resolve? Because the second I touch you, you’ll drop whatever bravado this is and let me help you?”
Exactly that. He knows you inside and out. Sees through the front. It doesn’t matter. You don’t need him to believe you, you need him to obey.
He takes another step and you back up. “I will scream,” you threaten, venom in your voice. “I will scream and Seungcheol and Vernon are right down the hall. Whose side do you think they’ll take, with your reputation for violence?”
“Fuck you, they know I’d never hurt you.”
You hear the waver in his voice. That tiny sliver of doubt, so small and tiny but there. They do know he would never hurt you, but Soonyoung isn’t convinced they’d believe him. It makes you sick, but you latch onto it, unspooling that tiny bit of hurt. “Do they, Soonyoung? I hear some of them call you a mad dog because you attack with no regard for anything. Do you really think they trust you entirely with me?”
Soonyoung is raging. His chest rising and falling, shaking his head back and forth as he tries to understand. You’re rooted to the spot, muscles coiled, pulse thudding in your throat. “You are not,” he growls. “Marrying Kim Yijun. You don’t even want to, don’t try to lie to me about your feelings or insult me thinking you can bait me. You love me. You are mine.”
“I belong to the Choi family and it’s what my family needs from me. I will do my duty.”
“Fuck your family!” His roar makes you flinch, briefly closing your eyes. His palm slams on the top of the countertop in front of him, sharp in the silence. “You have a duty to me. I told you I would not fucking let you go. You’re not doing it. I’ll fucking kill him, you think I won’t? I’ll murder every last one of them-”
“You don’t tell me what to do, Kwon Soonyoung. I will do this, and you will obey.” He bristles, going rigid as your words land like a slap. “When I say jump, you say how high. You’ve always known that.”
For a second, he cracks. The Soonyoung you first saw on your doorstep, crying and round-cheeked and ruddy returns. His lip trembles and the way he looks at you nearly melts your iron will. You’re so close to collapsing, to laying it out before him, to risking it all.
“Don’t do this to me.” His whisper is made of glass. Delicate. He presses his palm to his chest, right over his heart. Earnest. “I can’t - you know I can’t. I- please. I can’t do this.”
Licking your lips, you look him in the eyes. His eyes are your favorite. Dark. Stormy. Endless. They are lined with silver, panic rippling across the surface.
You lift your chin and push back your shoulders. “You can and you will, because I told you to jump, Soonyoung. Now ask how high.”
Sunlight warms the back of your neck, humidity clinging to your skin like a second layer. You take a deep breath, though the steamy air offers no relief. You snap open a silk fan, waving it in front of your face in hopes of chasing away some of the sweat, feeling the separation between skin and makeup the longer you sit in the wretched heat of the garden.
It’s not even real sunlight or heat. You can’t tell beyond the projection in the room, but you know that there are vents heating up the room and controls that make the air humid and sticky, making it feel like you’re sitting in a real garden outside somewhere lush.
Lin drones on and on about something. You tuned her out long ago, eyes flickering back and forth to your watch and the women’s faces around you. None of them here are really your friend - not in the way Angel is, the way Wonwoo or Jeonghan are.
Yet you’re expected to be here, entertaining the upper echelon wives of the Choi and Kim Syndicates, boiling away in an imaginary garden while you sweat to death, dress clinging to your skin and thighs slippery in the seat as you adjust yourself, uncomfortable.
“It’s hot as a motherfucker,” a whispered voice comes from next to you. You look up to see the newly engaged heiress of Nexus Capital next to you, glaring behind the dark shade of her sunglasses as Lin continues rambling about something. “Couldn’t she have made it less real?”
A smirk twitches on your lips. You haven’t spoken to her much, but her recent engagement to Xu Minghao had secured the position the Choi Syndicate had been fighting for in the shipping yards and docks with the Yong family, elevating her family into the favored circle of your father.
Suddenly, you remember who had recommended that marriage in the first place. You remember the party, the pretty dress you wore, Soonyoung’s hand briefly on your waist as he kissed you goodbye for a meeting. You had no idea then that your throwaway comment about an arranged marriage to benefit your family would become your own nightmare under an hour later.
Grief is a funny thing. You never knew that you could feel grief for someone who isn’t dead, yet sometimes you feel such an overwhelming amount of grief at the hole that Soonyoung has left behind that you can’t breathe.
Throat dry, you reach for water, drinking eagerly. You feel a bead of water run down your face, but you ignore it in favor of trying to focus on not panicking.
Anxiety attacks are new for you. Though your entire life has been colored with stressful situations unique to growing up in a criminal Syndicate, you could never say that you were anxious before. At least not in the way that made the back of your neck too hot and the tips of your fingers buzz with the threat of a looming meltdown.
You ignore it. It’s all you know how to do. The anxiety medication your therapist gave you doesn't work, and you can’t crush a bunch of pills and inhale them anytime you feel like you’re about to get tunnel vision and spiral.
Well, you suppose you can, but you’re trying not to get into the habit.
Instead of acknowledging the way the panic lurks around your edges like a predator waiting to pounce, you listen to the dull conversation around you. Focus on the gossip that you don’t care about, exactly, but know it’s good to have.
Since marrying into the Kim family, you’re not sure what your job is. With your family, your role as the face, the legacy and the representation of the Choi Syndicate had always been clear and obvious. Now, your husband sends you to stupid things like this with preening people that you don’t like and makes you leave events early when he’s irritable.
Gossip is a weapon, though. So you gather it when you can, taking in bits of information and storing it for yourself. Rarely do you offer it to Yijun - not that he would take it - but Jeonghan finds the information you share useful. So does Angel, but there’s rarely anything you know that she doesn’t.
Just as your anxiety begins to fade, the source of it materializes.
At first, you think you’re seeing things when a door appears in the wall depicting an apple orchard and Soonyoung strolls out into the fake-sun. You blink dumbly, spine tingling as you realize that your mind is not playing tricks on you and it is him.
He sees you immediately. His dark eyes burn like embers, pinning you to the spot. His face remains motionless but you see his jaw tick, the only sign that he is immediately on edge when he sees you. He’s dressed for work in an all black suit, required for the Swords of the Choi family.
Giggles breakout around the table as he approaches, the ladies around you all flushed cheeks and demure smiles. You feel the buzzing start in your hands again, this time worse. It goes up your arms, working its way to your chest as the anxiety increases tenfold, heart pounding.
Soonyoung bows. “I beg your pardon, ladies.”
“My goodness, Soonyoung,” Lin preens. “You must be horribly hot in that suit, but you do look handsome.”
You fight the urge to snarl at her that the imitation of the garden isn’t real and no amount of pretending will make it real. You even imagine reaching across the table and plunging her fish knife into her hand. Instead, you watch Soonyoung, your hummingbird heart fluttering.
He gives her a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be alright. I apologize for interrupting, but the Tower of the Choi family has sent me to escort his daughter home.”
“Home?”
“The Choi Estate.”
He doesn’t say what he means: the Kim Estate is not your home.
“Alright,” you say, voice reedy. Your hands are trembling as you slide your chair from the table, the metal legs grinding loudly against concrete. You flinch at the sound, hyper aware of every bead of sweat crawling down your spine, every beat of your heart that is too fast, too hard.
Static fills you as you mumble parting words to the women who watch you in confusion. At least, you think you mumble your goodbyes. Blood rushes in your ears as you take uneven steps toward Soonyoung, who turns on his heel and starts marching toward the apple orchard.
It feels like you’re in an echo chamber. Everything suddenly feels hollow and everything sounds as though you’re hearing it through a thin wall. Muted. Dull. He opens the door that you can’t quite spot even this close, ushering you inside as your vision starts tunneling to a narrow point, everything else blurry and distorted.
No. No no no no no.
Lifting your hands, you glance down at them to see them trembling, opening and closing your fists in an attempt to stop the buzzing feeling, as though you could will it away. You think Soonyoung says something but you can’t hear him over the roar of panic that grips you and tears you sideways.
Instead of following him down the hall, you lurch toward a different hall, rushing toward the powder room. It feels like the walls are narrowing as you throw open the door, breath coming out in pants. Everything feels tight and compact, crushing smaller still.
Stumbling to the sink you try to turn the faucet on. Once. Twice. Cold water spits from the faucet and you gasp, leaning down over the sink to splash freezing water into your face. It doesn’t have the desired effect, the water is not cool enough to shock you out of your panic.
Soonyoung speaks behind you. You can’t hear him, the grip of your anxiety so strong that you grab the edges of the sink to keep you up right. You’re heaving now, heart rattling so hard you think that maybe you’re having a heart attack instead.
A firm grip wretches your attention from the porcelain sink to the mirror, where you see your dripping reflection, eyes blown like saucers. Soonyoung is standing behind you, a hand on your bicep, squeezing. His face is no longer a mask of indifference, but one of confusion.
His mouth moves and you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “I can’t,” you gasp, ragged. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
Then, he does something that catches you entirely off guard. You watch in slow motion as he steps back and removes the gun from the holster underneath his suit jacket. You hear the safety on the gun click and the hum as the weapon charges, ready to fire rounds of plasma if he squeezes the trigger.
And then he points the gun at your head, the lights on it flipping from blue to red, signaling it’s ready to kill.
The world stops. The panic vanishes for a split second, replaced with utter shock as you stare at him in the mirror.
“What the fuck are you doing?” you demand, voice stronger than you expect.
Soonyoung is ten levels of crazy, but he’s never pointed a gun at you before. You stare at him, open-mouthed and wondering if he’ll do it. If he could pull the trigger. He’d told you a hundred times when you were together that he would never let you go and it was always with clarity that you understood what he meant: it’s me or no one.
With stark clarity, you realize there’s no reason for Soonyoung not to pull the trigger. He doesn’t care much about the value of his own life from what you can glean over the last two years, and he doesn’t really seem to care about yours.
Not that he should. You promised to make him feel human and you did. Then you took it away from him, leaving him adrift in a vast ocean of nothing alone and untethered.
No, you don’t think you inspire Soonyoung to feel human anymore. If anything, you probably make him want to be the worst version of himself.
Soonyoung’s voice holds no emotion when he asks, “Are you with me?”
“Why are you pointing a gun at me?”
“Breathe,” he says instead. He doesn’t lower the weapon, stormy eyes focused on yours. “Breathe,” he repeats. “Slowly, maybe.”
“Soonyoung, you are holding a gun at me, what do you mean breathe?”
“What do you mean what do I mean? I mean what I fucking said. Breathe normally.”
“Lower the gun!” He does. “What the fuck?”
He breaks eye contact, sliding the weapon back into his suit jacket. He turns away from you as though he didn’t have you at gunpoint a second ago. “You were having a panic attack. Sometimes a shock to the system stalls it. Your breathing has slowed down now. And you’re not panicking.”
A beat of silence passes. Then, “So you leveled a gun at my head?”
“It worked. Let’s go.”
“Are you fucking crazy?”
“Yes. Now let’s go. You’re needed at the Choi Estate.”
“Why?”
“Do I look like I have all the answers? I just do what I’m told. When a Choi says jump, remember?”
You visibly flinch as his words land. Soonyoung doesn’t wait for you to gather yourself, spinning on his heel and exiting the powder room to stride through the halls. Tightness gathers in your chest, left over from your anxiety attack.
Pressing your hands against your dress to wipe the sweat from them, you chase after Soonyoung. He’s already by the apartment’s elevator, jamming his finger into the button. He doesn’t look at you as he waits, content to stare at the metal door.
You don’t know where else to look - you want to look anywhere but him. Turning around, you fixate on the floor to ceiling windows. It’s still morning outside, but it’s hard to tell with the way the clouds block out the view, turning everything to mist.
This high up in the city is reserved for the elite. You can’t imagine why - there’s nothing to look at but clouds, clouds, and more clouds. It’s what makes them have virtual reality rooms in the first place, trying to recreate the experience that they might have if they were wealthy enough to own land.
The sound of the elevator arriving makes you flinch. Soonyoung ignores you, getting in and leaning against the wall as he hits a button to go to the parking garage. You scramble in after him, a little breathless as the doors close just behind you.
Immediately you start shooting down several floors. He glares at the wall, unseeing and unfeeling. You swallow thickly, watching the numbers decrease until you’re at Lin’s private parking garage. Soonyoung is out of the elevator before it finishes opening all the way, storming toward the car he’s left running idle.
Normally someone would open a car door for you. Instead, Soonyoung gets in the driver’s seat and slams the door shut. You reach for the handle of the passenger seat and pause. Normally you sit in the back when being driven somewhere, it’s always been like that. But this is Soonyoung and you’ve always been beside him in the car, his equal.
A muffled get in the fucking car reaches you. Deciding that sitting next to him is too personal, you open the back seat and slide in. You’ve barely shut the door when he punches the gas, slamming you into the back of the seat as he goes.
“Would you stop being an asshole?” you seethe, ripping the seatbelt from next to you to buckle in. Your hands are still shaking and it takes a moment for the clasp to click.
Instead of answering, you hear the way the car accelerates under his foot. Scowling, you look out the window. He speeds into the lift that brings the car down to the ground floor. Lights blur by as the lift drops at lurching speed, your stomach in your throat. You hate coming to apartments for this reason, the feeling of having to freefall to leave never growing on you.
It’s raining when the lift opens to the wet street. Soonyoung peels out on the pavement, tires spinning until they gain traction and the car slides onto the road, narrowly missing someone. You slam against the seatbelt, cursing and clinging onto the door as he pushes the gas down, engine roaring.
“Are you trying to kill us?”
Soonyoung doesn’t answer you. You think it might be because he’s not explicitly trying to kill the two of you, but he doesn’t care if he does. You try not to think about it so much as he powers through the streets of the Upper City, driving past towering businesses, luxury districts with entertainment and bars and apartment buildings.
The road starts to incline and you hit a line of trees. The city vanishes behind you as Soonyoung drives the car up the winding road, leaving a world of metal and lights for greenery and earth. The contrast between the cities below and the Estates above is stark, especially as he drive’s higher up the mountain, snatches of the city below visible.
“Why did you come to get me?” you ask, flicking your gaze to the rearview mirror to watch him. Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the road, but you see his mouth tighten. “Last I checked you’re not an errand boy.”
“So what, you check on me?”
“It’s a figure of speech, you know what I mean.”
“The Tower personally requested I come get you.”
That gives you pause. Soonyoung’s face reveals nothing as he turns on the street that will inevitably lead to the massive metal wall that blocks off the world from the Choi Estate. There can only be a single reason why Soonyoung was sent to fetch you when usually your husband’s staff would do so.
“What’s happened?”
Soonyoung doesn’t answer your question. Instead, he rolls the window down at the guard house to show his face. The security team recognizes him immediately, waving him through as the gate begins to slide open to reveal lush, green jungle.
Gravel crunches underneath the car tires as he drives through the winding foliage on Choi grounds. Your great-great-grandfather had built the Choi compound, the first of the few elite houses on the mountain. He thought it was important to keep the plant life and sprawling greenery to conserve, but you knew it was really about power. Symbolism. Greenery didn’t really exist in the city, and this much space and plantlife meant wealth.
The sprawling estate you grew up in reveals itself. Multiple buildings dot the property, making it more a family compound than an estate. Now that Seungcheol is old enough, he’s moved out of the main house and into one of the smaller homes, occupying the space with his own men and staff. Still, he’s just a brief stroll away from your childhood home.
Home. Even two years under a Kim family banner hasn’t erased the feeling of home for you. There is nothing in the house you share with Yijun that makes it feel like you. It is as devoid of love as your marriage, merely a placeholder for you to sleep, eat, and occasionally, try to produce an heir.
Soonyoung pulls up to the long building that serves as a garage, hitting a button on the car’s screen to open one of the bays. He pulls in slowly, the outside world fading as the garage door shuts behind the car, dousing it in darkness until the neon lights above flicker on.
Without a word, he powers off the vehicle and gets out. Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and get out of the car. He doesn’t wait for you - even shuts the door as he enters the main house so you’re forced to lug it open.
He’s already opening the door to the main house a few yards away, forcing you again to haphazardly navigate gravel in your heels as you give chase. You’re sweating and irritated by the time you’re up the steps and pushing through the front door, a nasty quip on your lips ready until you see your aunt coming down the stairs.
“Oh thank goodness,” she says, seeing you. She looks older than you remember, the lines of her face deep and the hair at her temples gray. “Come along.”
“What’s going on?” you ask, uncertain as you step into the foyer and let her take your arm.
She scowls. “Did that useless boy not tell you? Your mother suffered a heart attack this morning. She’s with Dr. Ymir in the medical wing.”
Your heart thuds to a stop as you wheel around to look over your shoulder at Soonyoung. His gaze is stormy but his face gives away nothing as he turns to leave the way he came, slamming the front door and vanishing down the steps to leave you alone.
“No,” you mumble as your aunt pulls you down the hall. “He didn’t tell me.”
Because that’s how much Soonyoung hates you. Hate isn’t even the right word, you think. It is something far deeper and far more sinister, fueled only by taking away something that he valued more than anything else in the world and forcing him to live with it.
I deserve this, you think as the door to one of the private medical rooms opens, a clinical smell hitting you in the face. I deserve everything that happens to me.
I deserve this. It’s all you can think of as you watch the black casket lower into the ground. Seungcheol stands beside you, his hands linked in front of him. You want to reach out and take his hand in yours, but you don’t want him to look weak. Don’t want others to see him crack like you know he will if you comfort him.
Instead, you comfort yourself as best you can, which isn’t saying much. You’ve never been good at dealing with your feelings, too much of your mother’s blood running through you. It was your father’s least favorite trait of yours and perhaps Soonyoung’s favorite.
Soonyoung, who has always been your emotional tether and outlet. You’re not accustomed to dealing with grief alone, and the pull of it feels like an undertow threatening to drag you under and drown you.
Someone shifts behind you, close enough that you feel Yijun next to you stiffen. You turn to look over your shoulder, blinking in surprise as you tilt your head up to see Soonyoung. He doesn’t look at you, dark eyes fixed forward and jaw flexing tightly. He’s standing closer than is necessary, as shown by your husband’s scoff.
Soonyoung doesn’t move, though. He remains nearly pressed against your back, so close that you can smell vanilla and sandalwood. Turning away from him, you feel your shoulders relax. He ignores you, but he’s there, a stoic guardian that’s just out of reach.
The Tower of the Choi Syndicate is too lost in his grief to notice or care about Soonyoung’s proximity to you. Your brother couldn’t care less, barely realizing that his brother by choice is an inch away from him. But you know Soonyoung is there and that’s all that matters.
The grief lessens, turning back from churning waters to gentle, lapping waves.
“Your brother doesn’t respect me,” Yijun asserts. You look at him in the bathroom mirror. He’s standing behind you in the closet, taking out glinting cufflinks to replace them in the countertop in the middle of the aisles of clothes. “You should work on that.”
“Seungcheol hardly takes what I say to heart.”
Yijun snorts, detecting the lie before you can even get it out. Seungcheol very much values your insight and opinion far more than he’s interested in Yijun’s. He’s made it clear at multiple parties and events now, often asking you how business is and how the shared Kim-Choi accounts are doing, despite not having anything to do with them.
Seungcheol hates your role within the Kim family. On more than one occasion he’s recommended Yijun make use of you somewhere in the family business, to make you the head of operation somewhere so that your schooling and experience weren’t going to waste. Yijun asserted that your social skills were being put to perfect use, entertaining the wives of his associates and serving as the perfect host when his business colleagues and friends were over.
“He’s going to be leading the family soon,” Yijun sighs. “It would be better for us if he saw me as a real ally.”
“He does see you as an ally. You’re married to his sister.”
“Exactly, so you should remind him that I’m family.” It doesn’t sound like a threat, but it also doesn’t sound like a request. Sighing, you shut the drawer in the counter forcefully. It draws his attention, gaze darkening. “Don’t you want your brother to respect your husband?”
No, you think. You don’t respect your husband, so why should Seungcheol?
Instead, you sigh. “Of course, Yi.” He doesn’t soften at the nickname. “I’ll talk to him, alright? He’s got a lot going on. And don’t talk about my father’s health that way.”
“I didn’t say anything about his health.”
“Please,” you snort. “I know what you meant about Cheol taking over soon.”
Yijun had been talking about Seungcheol more and more. You’ve watched with a sour taste in your mouth as your husband tries to earn your brother’s attention and trust, flashing what he thinks Seungcheol cares about in his face, telling him about the new car he acquired, or the historical art piece you purchased at an auction, and the new apartment building he’s constructing.
Seungcheol doesn’t give a fuck about any of that. The Choi family never has. Your ancestors didn’t make a name for themselves and carve it on the mountain they built their home on by showing off their wealth and what it could do for them. They did it by earning it, and by remaining steadfast and intelligent. Political.
Yijun understands none of that. As the eldest son of his family, it’s a shame. The real world of the Syndicates is lost on him. He has enough business acumen to run companies under his father’s careful tutelage and instruction, but he doesn’t have the social savvy for it, the right drive.
His brother does. You think of Kim Minchan and nearly shiver. The middle child of the Kim family has more than enough understanding of the way that things work, but the ocean of blood behind him is enough for you to prefer Yijun leading the Kim Syndicate any day.
“I’m just saying,” Yijun grunts, flicking off the lights in the closet. “Your brother has all the reason in the world to respect me and he doesn’t.” He looks at you, face hardening. “Do you tell him not to? Is that what it is? His baby sister tells him how useless her husband is?”
Danger is in the air. Yijun won’t lay a hand on you, but it doesn’t make this dance any less stressful. You turn away from the mirror, looking at him fully. He’s not terrible to look at - he has a sharp jaw and a broad nose and a pleasant shaped mouth. He’s handsome, even.
He’s not Kwon Soonyoung.
Swallowing away the thought, you reach up to put your hands on his chest, placating. “I wouldn’t do that,” you assure him, softening your voice. You hate the sound of your voice, hate the way you pitch it low and gentle. “You’re a reflection of me too. I would never let my brother think any of those things about my husband.”
Yijun swats your hands away, making you grit your teeth. “Don’t act like a whore. Just - tell your brother. I should be in his inner circle by now. Make it happen.”
As Yijun leaves the bathroom, the urge to grab him by his collar and yank him back in to smash his head on the counter almost wins. You stare at him until he vanishes in the bedroom, your rage a live, sentient thing. You feel it crawl beneath your skin, slithering and clawing and biting and begging to be let out.
Steady is the mountain. You take that fire and shove it down. Years of instinct of reacting with your mother’s temper peter out slowly. It’s a shame - you’re the last woman left from her side of the family, the only one who can carry the fire of the phoenix.
You glare at the bedroom. Somewhere, Yijun lurks, getting into bed. Oh how the shadows of the weak choke out the fire of the strong.
If killing Yijun wouldn’t risk everything, you’d have done it already. That first month spent with him where you realized this would not only be a loveless marriage, but a hateful one had almost driven you to it. The Choi Syndicate could surely survive a war with the Kim Syndicate - you had better assets, stronger loyalties, and more money.
But if the Kim family turned to the Yong family…
Avoiding unification of the Kim and Yong families is why you were married to Kim Yijun in the first place. To murder him now would mean Syndicate war, and despite the fact that every moment with him is hateful and poisonous, you’re too nervous to put your family at risk.
Especially with your father’s failing health, as Yijun had pointed out.
Syndicate war isn’t the only thing keeping you from stabbing Kim Yijun until you can’t feel anything anymore. Minchan’s shadow of a presence lingers over your thoughts, one of the few threats you truly fear. Any harm to his brother would elevate Minchan to a position where he could only wield his power more.
And he’d hunt you like a bloodhound. You’re unsure if there is any corner of the world he would leave unturned if you killed his brother, no matter how much it would benefit him if Yijun keeled over tomorrow.
Inside your bedroom is dark. It doesn’t feel like your bedroom at all. There’s nothing homey about it, no possession or unique decor, no pictures. You wouldn’t sleep in here at all if Yijun didn’t make you, insisting that he couldn’t trust any of the house staff not to tell your father you weren’t sleeping in the same room.
Your father doesn’t care. He stopped caring about anything the day you put your mother into the dirt. Even if he hadn’t, as long as your relationship looked functional to whom it mattered, it mattered little to him if you slept in the same room or if you even liked Kim Yijun.
He’d made that very clear the day he tore away your future with Soonyoung.
Yijun is already snoring when you climb into bed. You grind your teeth, reaching to pull open the nightstand for noise cancelling earbuds and sleep medication. The medication isn’t as strong as the crushed up knockout you might have used previously, but it helps take the edge off without making you vulnerable to attack.
Which is something you still worry about.
Setting your phone on silent, you settle in for sleep. It takes a long time, but you finally drift away to thinking about smothering the man next to you in his sleep.
Something wakes you. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you sit up in bed and look around the room. It’s dark, but you can see the barely-there outlines of the furniture in your bedroom. Next to you, Yijun is gone. You can feel the lack of presence there more than you can see it, reaching your hand over to confirm the bed is cold and that he’s not been there for a while.
You reach for the phone on your nightstand but can’t find it. Frowning, you press your hand on the cool marble, sweeping back and forth to no avail. You lean further, finger finding the button to the light function on the stand and press down.
Dim, lavender light halos the top of the nightstand. Your phone is nowhere in sight. It’s just your jewelry dish, a decanter for water, and your sleep medication. You’re pretty sure that you put your phone face down before you went to bed, but you can’t be sure.
Pulling open the nightstand drawer only makes the back of your neck sweat. Your phone isn’t there, but neither is the gun you keep in the top drawer. Both you and Yijun sleep armed, despite having armed guards on the premises at all times.
Snapping the drawer shut, you roll to the other side of the bed and pull his open. A book, a watch, some pill bottles and a pack of cigarettes fill the drawer. No gun.
The back of your neck tingles. You rip the sheets off of you, heading to the bedroom door. The house is mostly dark when you open it, the entire second floor dim. Leaning over the banister, you can see a shaft of light falling across the room, perhaps coming from the kitchen.
Quietly, you stalk toward the top of the stairwell, trying to reduce noise as you creep down. A high pitched whine rings in your ears, heart thundering. You have no idea why you’re so afraid all of the sudden, especially in your own house, but your instincts tell you to be alert and quiet.
At the foot of the stairs, you confirm the light is coming from the kitchen. It’s not uncommon for people to be in the house in the middle of the night. Official Syndicate business happens at any time, and often goes into the early hours of morning.
Tonight, it’s not busy. Before you’d gone upstairs to bed, you’d noted that it was a skeleton crew security team for the night, just a few of them at the gate house and walking the premises while you and Yijun returned upstairs for the evening alone.
Creeping toward the hallway, you pause when you hear voices. You identify Yijun’s voice right away, holding your breath and straining your hearing as he says, “What do you want me to do here?”
“Keep her contained. Make sure no one from her family can reach her.”
“I already took her phone and her gun.”
Your stomach drops. “Good.” That’s Minchan’s voice, you realize, dread growing tenfold. “The second she finds out the Tower has fallen, she’ll try to run or her brother will try to get her.”
“Or that psycho fuck,” Yijun mutters.
“You’d be lucky if it was Seungcheol who came to get her. If Kwon Soonyoung comes looking, call me immediately. We’ll make our move in two hours. We’ve got the biggest team outside the Choi estate ready to go in and we’ve got men and women stationed at all the key points.”
“So I’m just supposed to sit here and babysit my wife?”
“Yes.” Minchan’s tone is nonnegotiable. “We’ll leave the guards at the gatehouse but we can’t spare anyone else. This kind of assault requires everyone. The Yong family will take care of the Pearl District and the Salt.”
Yijun hesitates. “What about the Yoon family? Are they all accounted for?”
“Yes. I have a team on the crazy one - what do they call her?”
“Angel, I think.”
Minchan laughs. “Demon is more fitting. Stay here. Stay by your phone. We’ll call thirty minutes before we give the signal to link everyone on comms. We do this right, and the Choi Syndicate is gone.”
Panic presses in for a moment. Your heart hammers. Your hands shake. Bile churns your stomach. It feels like you can’t get enough air, the pieces of what they're talking about falling into place.
The Tower has fallen.
Your father is dead, and in the wake of the crushing blow, the Kim family intends to strike at yours alongside the Yong family. The realization lands like a blow, immediately slapping you out of your panic.
Fear turns to rage. Rage turns to ice. You are fire, you are the mountain.
Steadfast is the mountain, but the fire does burn.
As quietly as you can, you creep up the stairs. You keep turning over your shoulder to ensure Minchan doesn’t leave the kitchen and catch you creeping back toward your bedroom. When you hit the second floor landing, you all but sprint to your room, gears turning.
Yijun took your phone and intends to keep you locked in the house until they finish their plan. From their discussion, you know they intend to mobilize within two hours, targeting important members of the Choi Syndicate across the city with the help of the Yong family.
It means you have only a few minutes to warn your family to respond, to prepare and to fight back or strike first. Which is hard to do without a phone, but your husband doesn’t know you nearly as well as he thinks.
Door closed behind you, you flip the lock on the bedroom door and dash for the closet. The lights above come to life, bathing you in ghoulish, grey light. You dive to the floor toward your shelf holding all of your shoes, the carpet burns nothing compared to the pain starting to bloom behind your sternum where your grief builds slowly under your anger.
Your father is dead. The Kims are going to turn on you anyway. Your marriage to Kim Yijun to secure alliances against the Yong family was for nothing.
You’ve endured for nothing.
Snatching a pair of boots, you swallow down the bile again. You will not break now, not when there are more important things than the time you’ve wasted withering away in this cold home. Shoving your hand inside the boot, you come into contact with what you were looking for. Your hand closes around the device, yanking it out and powering it on.
The screen flashes to life. You press one and hold, hearing the buzz on the phone as it begins to ring. You cradle the phone against your shoulder and ear, nearly sick with the adrenaline that is pounding through you, your vision blurring, hands shaking.
You grab another shoe, this time reaching inside carefully instead of shoving your hand in. The smooth, bone handle of a knife meets your hand and you wrap your fingers around it firmly, pulling it out.
Soonyoung answers on the fourth ring. “Where are you?”
“The Kim family has turned on the Chois. They’re mobilizing for a full scale attack in roughly two hours. The Yong family is helping them. They’re at the estate and all over the city - anyone who is important to us regardless of position will need to be warned. The Yong family is handling the Pearl District and the Salt.”
“How many men are at Yijun’s estate?” You can hear him moving on the other side of the line, something rustling. Perhaps clothes as he gets dressed. “Are you armed?”
“There are men at the guard house and one walking the perimeter. It’s just me and Yijun inside, I think Minchan is leaving. I’ve got a knife.”
“Where are you in the house?”
“Bedroom, second landing to the right and all the way at the end of the hall. There are windows but they don’t open.”
“Listen to me,” Soonyoung says, voice like ice. “The second we start moving into position to accept the assault, they’ll know something is off. When that happens, Yijun is going to try to kill you, do you understand?” When you say nothing, he asks again, voice louder. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“I need you to fight back. Either kill him or hold him off until I’m there.”
“You need to warn-”
“Don’t worry about the fucking Syndicate! We’ll be fine. You’ve given us more than enough time. I need you to be entirely focused on yourself.”
You take a deep breath, letting it out shakily. “Okay.”
“Do you have frostbyte?”
“Maybe? Yijun might have it in the nightstand.”
“Take some. Not enough to fuck you up, but enough to pump that adrenaline and make your head clear. I will be there in thirty minutes.”
“Okay.”
You squeeze the phone, unwilling to hang up. It doesn’t matter that you haven’t heard his voice in months. It doesn’t matter that he hates you, it doesn’t matter that you know whatever used to be between you is broken and it’s entirely your fault. You just… don’t want to hang up.
“Hey.” Soonyoung’s voice is soft, drawing you from your trembling spiral. “Do what I said. Do the frostbyte and kill him if you have to. I have to go.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you in thirty minutes.” Soonyoung pauses, the silence heavy on the line. “I love you.”
Nothing breaks you like those words, whispered but firm, whispered in case you die before he gets there. He doesn’t have to say that’s why he’s saying it - you know. You know the chance of him not getting there fast enough is likely and real. He does too, but instead of telling you, he gives you this.
You whisper back, “I love you.”
Soonyoung hangs up the phone and you fight a sob. You bring the knife up to your hand, pressing your pointer finger down on the tip. The sting is immediate, making you his in pain as blood beads on the tip of your finger, red and garish in the closet lighting.
The sting grounds you enough to push yourself from the floor, following Soonyoung’s directions to Yijun’s nightstand. You yank it open, rattling around the contents until you find the bag of frostbyte you were hoping was there. Yijun uses it the nights he attempts to put an heir in you, numbing himself the way you never did, taking your punishment for what you’d done to Soonyoung raw.
Not enough to fuck me up, you think, untwisting the bag and shaking. Just enough to make it easier.
Dipping the tip of your knife into the bag, you pull out a small lump of the glittering drug. You try not to think about that night at the club all those years ago, when you and Soonyoung were still dancing around one another’s feelings, doing anything you could to get a reaction out of one another.
You take a sharp breath in. The drug hits your nasal passage and it burns, your eyes smarting as you tilt your head up, cursing and blinking away the tears. It hits the back of your throat, bitter and awful as you cough a little, trying to wait for it to clear your nasal passage.
When the burning subsides a little, you do it again. It’s less harsh than the first bump but still just as awful, making you wonder how the fuck you did this on the weekend with your friends as a teenager. Tossing the back on the nightstand, you stand waiting, closing your eyes and trying to do deep breathing exercises your therapist taught you to calm down.
Frostbyte works fast. It hits your bloodstream and an electric calm comes over you. Everything comes into sharper focus, the adrenaline pumping as your simmering rage turns to a boil, ready to kick the fucking door down and hunt down Yijun yourself.
Nerves fade away to the background of your mind. You walk toward the door, waiting to the side so when Yijun ultimately kicks it down, you’re ready.
Ten minutes pass. The entire time your ears are ringing, heart thundering in your chest. You think the frostbyte was a good idea - if you had to wait in silence like this without it, you would have gone crazy by now. Even with the drug, fear nips at your ankles, a hound ever on your tail.
Yijun’s footsteps thunder up the stairs. Your heart lurches and you inch away from the door, readying yourself. He storms down the hall, fury in each step until he gets to the door and turns the handle. It doesn’t move. He tries a few more times, shaking the door.
His roar on the other side of the door is loud and feral, making you grin as he thrashes against the door, cursing and screaming at you. The door holds, rattling in place as he slams what you think is his shoulder into it multiple times.
The bombardment pauses for a second and then restarts ten times stronger. This time, you recognize that it’s his foot slamming into the side of the door. You realize he’s kicking where the door is latched, trying to break it open instead of kicking through it.
A small crack sounds. You take a breath, readying yourself as you hear another snap go through the door, now rattling loose in its frame. He kicks hard again and the door blows open, nearly smacking you as it does. You roll away from it on the wall, keeping close as Yijun barrels past you, swinging his head from left to right as he looks for you.
It’s your only chance to get the jump on him. You slide from the dark, heart hammering. You’ve never stabbed anyone before, but you’ve practiced. You drive the knife upward, intending to puncture his kidneys. Yijun twists a little to the side, sensing your presence as the knife plunges into his side.
Yijun screams. Your satisfaction only lasts a second before he throws his elbow backward, catching you in the nose. Pain explodes in your face, blinding you as your eyes water and you stumble backward hands shooting to your face.
Removing the knife from his side, Yijun screams at you, spit flying as he comes at you. Through tears and warm blood rushing from your nose, you reach for anything to use as a weapon. Your hand closes on the ceramic artwork on the dresser and you launch it at him, hitting him hard in the face.
The ceramic shatters and he drops the knife. You dive for it but he grabs you by the hair, ripping you upward and backward like a ragdoll. You lose your footing, screaming as he tightens his fist in your hair and drags you toward the bed, tossing you there.
With a feral shout, you kick your foot forward, catching him in the lower gut. He grunts but wraps his hand around your ankle, yanking you back off the bed onto the floor, where the knife lays. You reach for it, seething, your hands managing to close around it just as he pivots, foot landing against your ribcage.
Again, pain explodes inside of you. With the frostbyte, you barely recognize it, grabbing the knife and stabbing him in the calf. He shrieks and collapses to a knee, reaching for the knife. This time you rip it back out, nearly losing your grip on the bone handle, fingers slippery with blood.
You stab him again, this time in the thigh. His knee presses into your stomach, crushing you and forcing air from your lungs. You ignore the pain, stabbing him again and again in the thigh until he falls backward off of you, muscles malfunctioning, tendons give away.
Yijun kicks out at you with his good leg but you’re already moving, ignoring the way your body is screaming in utter agony, every part of you throbbing and begging you to give up.
You don’t. You scramble on top of him. His hands shoot up to your throat but you spit at him, a spray of blood blinding him and making his grip loosen momentarily. It’s enough to bring the knife down home again, this time directly in the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
For a second, he fights back. You hear the wet gasp and he thrashes, but you stab him again. And again and again and again and again -
You think about all of the times that you were forced to submit to him.
And again and again and again -
The way he heaved himself on top of you, trying to force a child into you so he could be done with you, the way you’d wish it had been Soonyoung instead.
And again and again and again -
The way Soonyoung’s face broke that morning, begging you not to do this to him.
And again and again and again -
All for the Kim family to turn on the Choi’s anyway, wasting the entire time you’ve spent under lock and key, doing Yijun’s bidding while Soonyoung hated you. Loathed you. Wish you never happened to him.
Again and AGAINANDAGAINANDAGAINAND-
Yijun isn’t moving under you. Your hand is warm and wet, the knife becoming slippery as you let it go. It clatters to the floor and you sit backward on his knees. He’s unmoving as you heave, sucking down air that tastes like iron and salt.
Sweat slicks the back of your neck and down your spine. Somewhere in the house, there’s a crashing noise. You leap for the knife, rolling off of Yijun’s mutilated body toward the door, positioning yourself in a defensive position as feet thunder up the stairs.
You bare your teeth, knowing this is it. Knowing Soonyoung hasn’t come quickly enough but it doesn’t matter, because you warned them and they are safe. Your penance for destroying him has been paid in half, though never full, and -
Soonyoung appears in the doorway. He looks like an angel from hell, wreathed in shallow light that comes from the first floor, his silver hair stained with blood. He’s in black trousers and a short-sleeve shirt with his favorite band on it - one of his sleep shirts.
For less than a second, he stares at you. Then, Soonyoung dives at you, dropping the gun in his head and grabbing you. You hadn’t realized that you’d sunk to your knees, looking up at him as he grabs your face, turning you this way and that. He’s asking you a question but you can’t understand him, dizzy and confused and in so much pain that the edge of your vision wavers.
“Baby,” Soonyoung begs, his voice warped and echoey. “Hey, I need you to answer me. Where are you bleeding?”
“S’mostly his,” you answer, feeling how heavy your tongue is. Your thoughts are sticky and slow. Concussed, you think. “Maybe broke my nose.”
Soonyoung’s thumb brushes gently across your cheek, smearing blood. “Can you walk if I help you?” You think about it. Shake your head. “Okay. I’m going to lift you up, alright? Tell me where it hurts so I don’t hurt you, Baby.”
“Ribs.”
“Left or right?”
You pause, breathing in and feeling the pain bloom. “Right.”
“Okay, tell me if I hurt you, okay? We’re going to take you home.”
“Thank you.” Soonyoung hesitates at your tone, looking at you. His eyes are vulnerable and open, more raw than you have seen them since you were kids. “You didn’t have to come get me.”
He stares and stares at you. The world fades a little and Soonyoung lifts you toward him. “Of course I did,” he murmurs, so soft you barely hear what he’s saying. “When you say jump, remember?”
“Where's this?” You mumble, looking out the window at a small home behind high gates.
Soonyoung has been driving for an hour and a half, his silence nearly unbearable as you both left the city. You don’t ask about where you’re going or if everyone is okay - you don’t think you can stomach the answers right now. Not while in the car.
Rain mists through the window as Soonyoung rolls it down to punch in a code in front of the gate. It flashes green and the metal starts to roll open, revealing a large but modest house - at least by Syndicate standards. He drives through, gravel crunching beneath the tires.
“Safe House. Very few people know it exists.”
“Are we in Levin?” He nods his head. You’ve never been to the small town, but you know it’s mostly a vacation village on the coast. “Who does this place belong to?”
“Me.” You look at him, surprised. “I bought it when you… got engaged.”
It’s like a stone sinking to the bottom of your stomach. You don’t have to ask why. It was his failsafe for you, a way to get you away from Yijun if you had just asked.
You should have asked. Should have just thrown it away and called him, should have begged him from your knees-
Soonyoung turns the car off and opens the door. You open yours, rain pattering against your red skin. He rushes to help you out of the car, hands hovering around you, unsure where to touch. It makes you want to sob. You want him to touch you anywhere - everywhere.
Instead, he leads you to the house, a hand wrapped firmly around your forearm to keep you upright and steady as you walk up the steps.
A porch light flickers on. You cringe away from the brightness, squinting through your fingers as the door opens to reveal Vernon standing on the other side. His eyes flicker between the two of you and he nods, stepping to the side to let you in.
Warmth blankets you as Soonyoung shuts the door. You’re standing in a small entryway with a staircase to the right leading to the second floor. Straight on, the lights are on, revealing a sliver of the living room. You can hear voices pause as they hear the door shut.
Angel materializes in the doorway, her hair damp. She’s dressed down like she recently showered, her eyes on you as she heaves a sigh of relief. “It’s Hoshi and Baby,” she calls over her shoulder, coming forward.
Soonyoung nudges you toward Angel gently. “Take her to shower.”
“Yeah of course.”
“Where’s Seungcheol?” You ask, turning to look at Soonyoung, who is already looking at his phone, holoscreen lighting up his face.
“On his way. The main crew is safe.” He hesitates. “We lost Lan, Old Man Vero and Yoon Minji.”
Your heart seizes, eyes darting to Angel. “Angel, I’m-”
“Jeonghan is taking care of it.” For the first time in years, you hear a note of pain in her voice, raw and real. Angel has - had - a complicated relationship with her step-mother, the matriarch of the Yoong family. “I’ve already satiated my vengeance. This is his. Come on.”
You hesitate. Soonyoung nudges you toward the stairs gently by the hip, suddenly looking tired. “Go. I’m going to find a doctor for that nose.”
“Is it terrible?”
He huffs, trying not to laugh. “No, but it needs to be fixed. Go. Shower.”
I love you. It’s on the tip of your tongue, right there. I love you. It’s all you can think about, thundering in your ribcage. I love you. It consumes you, makes you freeze up, staring at him. I love you.
Angel tugs your wrist delicately and breaks the spell. You follow her up the stairs. She’s careful with you, making you take one step at a time. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her so gentle, her eyes softened with worry and her touch on you delicate as butterfly wings.
Upstairs, she leads you into a room that smells like vanilla and sandalwood. Soonyoung. This room belongs to Soonyoung. You spot his subtle touches, a gaming computer shoved in the corner and powered off. A closet with a metal door that is under lock and key. A single gun sitting on top of the nightstand.
But what makes the room spin is the touches of you. A teakwood candle sitting on the dresser. Weighted blankets folded at the end of the bed. A bookshelf with all your favorite titles. A jar of saltwater taffy in multiple flavors.
Angel hesitates by the bathroom door, watching you drink in the room. You turn to her, shaking your head, confused and mouth open. She nods. “I know. I didn’t know either.”
“I could live and die a thousand times and never deserve him.”
“I’m not the best judge of character, but I don’t think I believe that to be true.”
Angel isn’t the best judge of character. But she also doesn’t say things she does not mean. She’s the last person in the world to offer words of comfort, and yet she’s standing in the bathroom staring at you like she can see through you, right down to the very core.
Maybe she can. Seeing what is rotting people on the inside and sniffing out their weaknesses is what she does best.
Instead of pointing out where you hurt, she manages to get you into the bathroom. It’s spacious but not grand like what you’re used to - it’s small. Safe. She starts the shower and backs away, helping you get out of your bloody clothing.
Everything hurts so bad. Your ribs ache, the bruising on them blotchy and horrendous as Angel peels back your shirt. She thankfully doesn’t react - she’s seen worse and done worse. Suddenly, you realize why Soonyoung picked her to help you. She’s steady, her fingers sure as she holds your arm while you pull your pants down.
You don’t dare look in the mirror. From what you can see without it, it’s already bad enough. Yijun hadn’t dealt fatal damage, but you know you’re bruised and covered in dry, flaking blood.
Angel leaves you in the shower, shutting the door to go sit on the sink, a guardian willing to give you space but ready to help when you need it. Shaking, you shuffle into the stream of hot water, hissing when it hits your skin.
It’s both heaven and hell. The hot water feels so good on your aching muscles and throbbing pain, but it also hurts when the water taps against your nose, reminding you that it is indeed broken. You suck in sharp air as you slowly begin to work your fingers into your skin, turning the water pink as you wash off the blood.
Blood that belongs to you. Blood that belongs to Yijun.
Yijun.
You’re not sorry you killed him. It was satisfying and necessary. But… the weight of your grief comes crashing into you. You could have killed him years ago and ran. Could have gone crawling back to Soonyoung and asked for his help. Could have told him that the only reason you ever agreed to marry him in the first place was to protect him.
None of it mattered. You bought him a paltry couple years worth of protection and for what? To shackle yourself to a man who thought little of you, who wanted to fuck you until you gave him another version of himself, who wanted to kill you at every moment because he knew you didn’t respect him and because he was afraid of you and the way you command respect from your family, but he never did.
All that time you’d made yourself smaller for him. Held back your bite. Hid your teeth. Mourned Soonyoung everyday, knowing that you’d never touch him again, that he would never kiss you again, that you’d never wake up in the morning when he got home from work and crawled into bed with you.
A potential lifetime of happiness, one of your own making, wasted on a promise that they broke anyway.
For nothing. It had been for nothing, you’d hurt Soonyoung for nothing, shut him out, promised you would never leave him and threw him away, forced him to jump for you, forced him to leave you when he said he wouldn’t all for nothing nothing nothing nothing notHING NOTHINGNOTHINGNOTHINGNOTHING-
Angel’s arms are around you. You startle, looking up to see that she is in the shower fully clothed, holding you to her. You hadn’t realized you’d been crying - screaming - in the shower. She presses you closer to her, the only way she knows how to tell you that she’s got you. She’s there. She understands.
You crumble, leaning heavily on her as you let it out, sobbing. Your throat is raw, your face throbbing each time you squeeze your eyes shut. Angel says nothing, content to hold you while her clothes soak up the water, weighing her down as you let out your grief in full, ugly waves.
Eventually, the water starts to get cold and your tears start to dry up. You sniff and groan, the pain in your face so poignant that it can’t be ignored. Lifting your head from her shoulder, you glance at her boots, soaked and murky red around the edges.
“Can I tell you something?” Angel asks, voice low. You nod. She hesitates, putting the words together before she says, “He’s going to accept you back. He’s going to do it with no conditions, and ask nothing of you. You’re going to want to torture yourself and beg for his forgiveness and deny yourself of him because you think you should be punished, that there is not a god powerful enough to hurt you the way you deserve.”
You blink in surprise. Angel isn’t religious, despite the nickname. She also isn’t overly emotional or wordy. But you see the severity in which she tells you this, see the pain in her eyes. You remember that she has demons far older than yours, ones that have followed her since childhood.
And she’s right. She reads you like a book, seeing the fucking pain radiating inside of you, the desire to be punished and hated and whipped-
“Let him take you back.” Her words are firm. “Don’t make him punish you. Don’t believe for a second that Soonyoung wants to make you pay. He doesn’t. He doesn’t care what you did or why. Just… let him have you. You’ve endured enough.”
You nod. “Alright. I’ll try.”
“Good. Um - can we get out of the shower though? It’s very cold in here.”
You laugh, immediately followed by a groan. “Please don’t make me laugh. I am in so much pain.”
“Yeah, let’s go get you some drugs, dude.”
The three Syndicates of the city are officially at war. Of all the news that has poured in over the last few days, this is the least surprising. When you’d seen Seungcheol that first night after everything went to hell, he’d held you close and promised that he would kill every last Kim in the city.
He had also told you he was proud of you. Not just for surviving Yijun long enough for Soonyoung to come get you, but for being able to warn the family what was coming. Your single warning alone had saved them a great deal and wounded the Kim Syndicate more than you could understand.
The days following your father’s death are strange. It doesn’t feel like he’s dead - at least, you haven’t truly processed it yet. There are things that demand your attention like being seen by Dr. Ymir for your fractured nose and bruised ribs, and the accounts and logistics of what being at war with the Kim and Yong family truly means.
On the fifth day at the safe house, you go back home. Seungcheol makes you ride with him, unwilling to let you out of his sight these days. You’re the only two members of the Choi family left, and it’s up to the two of you to rally the troops and remind everyone what the mountain can do.
Seungcheol replaces your father as the Tower of the Choi Syndicate. Typically there’s a small ceremony to pass the torch so to speak, but there’s no time for that. Seungcheol is buried in problems and trying to maneuver the family into a favorable position, but it’s hard - the Yongs and Kims have been preparing this for a while.
You’re suddenly given a job again. Fresh in his position leading the family, Seungcheol needs those he trusts by his side, immediately appointing you as the Architect of the Syndicate. There’s no one he trusts more with the finances and the logistics of the businesses under the Choi banner and who have pledged to his family.
With Yoon Minji’s death, Jeonghan’s takes his rightful side as the Wisdom and second in command to Seungcheol. It’s like you’d always known it would be as a kid, but it brings you no joy to see the two of them together in an office until the early hours of the morning, worn at the edges and sick with the grief they’re ignoring to push forward.
With no surprise, Seungcheol immediately promotes Soonyoung to the lead military position, rising from Sword to Sentinel in a single night. It’s the same position his father held under your father, and Soonyoung takes it with steely resolve.
It also means you don’t see him. You move back into your old room at home. At first, it doesn’t feel like your room at all because Soonyoung isn't in it. He had moved into your room when you first started dating, spending two years in that bed with you. Now, he’s taken up residence in his room down the hall, so close and yet the distance feels larger than ever.
Of all the problems mounting for you to solve, Soonyoung is the most important. You know he shouldn’t be. There are a thousand other things that you need to figure out, like how to assure that the businesses you own in and near the Kim and Yong family territories won’t go under or be attacked, or how to assure that payment to the family won’t increase now that there’s a fight.
Your days are filled with countless meetings, assuring loyal patrons that the Choi Syndicate will not fall and will not fail them, and that the Choi’s protect their own. You can see the fear in people’s eyes - the city hasn’t had the big three at war in a long time. Already the city officials are cracking down on Syndicate activity to try and establish order.
It’s farcical at best.
Squeezing your temples between your fingers, you lean back from the desk in your newly appointed office - which is really just your father’s. It feels weird to be in here. It still smells like leather and sweet tobacco, a little bit of smoke hanging in the air.
The last time you’d been in this office, you’d fallen to your knees and begged him not to make you marry Kim Yijun. Now you sit at the desk, hanging up the phone as another call ends - not as bad as the first, but not as good as you’d hoped.
Quickly, you scribble down a summary of the call to give to Seungcheol. You know he’ll read every word you write, determined to hear each concern of those under Choi patronage, whether they’re valid or not.
At the sound of the door opening, you glance up. Soonyoung sticks his head in, surprising you. You straighten in your seat, heart racing when you take him in. His silver hair has grown longer, tapered a bit at the neck. He’s dressed in all black but he’s clean, indicating that he showered not that long ago. You thought he would be out all day like usual, looking at your watch to see he’s back far earlier than normal.
“Is everything alright?” You start to get up and he rushes to you, hands lifting to help you. “I’m alright. I am well on the mend.”
He chews his lip, nodding before dropping his hands hesitantly. “Everything’s fine I just.” He hesitates. “Do you want to eat lunch?”
“Oh. Sure.”
Soonyoung’s smile is tentative. Shy. You give him one back, following him out of the office while sending a quick note to Jihoon that you’ll meet with him later. He sends a thumbs down back, less than pleased that you’ve not made time to talk to him about your potential murder charges for Yijun.
“Are you busy? We don’t have to-”
“It’s just Jihoon.”
“Ah. He’s persistent, are you sure-”
“I want to have lunch with you, Soonyoung.”
He blushes and you grin. “Alright,” he murmurs. “When you say jump and all that.”
That makes you pause. “You don’t have to do anything I tell you.”
“What?” He stops walking, confused.
“You don’t have to ask how high if I tell you to jump... I’m wrong a lot of the time. I don’t… want to be that.”
I don’t want to repeat my mistakes. You don’t say it, but you think Soonyoung senses it when he says, “I’ve always wanted to jump for you. That hasn’t changed.”
Let him take you back. Don’t make him punish you.
Angel’s words come back to you so you swallow down your guilt and you nod, giving him a tentative smile that he returns. This time, he holds out his hand to take you in the kitchen. You take it, the feeling of his fingers wrapping around yours both foreign and familiar.
The way he holds your hand in his makes you tremble. It’s something so simple and benign and yet you’re screaming on the inside, looking at where your fingers twine together like it’s everything, like it’s the only thing.
Lunch consists of very badly burned grilled cheese. You don’t care because Soonyoung makes it, insistent that he wants to and that he can. He’s good at a lot of things, particularly on the spectrum of murder and weapons, but he is terrible at putting bread, cheese and butter in a pan.
You eat it anyway, burnt bread and all. He sits next to you, his stool pulled so close that your thighs touch. You want to reach out and brush your fingers across his face, down his neck, through his hair. You want to touch until you’re grabbing, grab until you’re pulling.
Instead, you let him lead this dance, too afraid to initiate.
Let him take you back. Don’t make him punish you.
You don’t, but you can’t let go of the fear of rejection. Can’t bring yourself to toe the line beyond what he’s giving you, which is more than you ever dreamed of. So you accept when he offers to take your plate, fingers brushing over the top of your hand either by design or by accident you don’t know. His touch makes you shiver and he notices, pausing.
Slowly, you look up at Soonyoung. His eyes are dark and misty as ever, churning with emotion that you’re a little too afraid to read. Instead of taking the plates to the sink, he sets them down and reaches for you, cradling your face in his hands.
A sob works its way up your throat but you force it down. You will not cry over this. You will not make him comfort you.
“Are you afraid to touch me?” His question is gentle. You nod, eyes fluttering shut as his thumb brushes back and forth across your cheekbone. “Why?”
“I… want to so badly. I just want it to be your choice.”
“I want you to.” You open your eyes. His earnestness is right on the surface of him, rippling for you to see. “I’m dying for it. Please.”
Soonyoung’s please sounds like that morning he’d begged you all that time ago. It freezes you in place, heart beating like a prey animal in fight or flight. He steps closer, his breath on your forehead when he whispers, “Please.”
Slowly, you bring your hands up to his wrists. Licking your lips, you place your hands on him. His eyes close. His skin is warm to the touch and you feel him tremble as you brush your hands upward, tracing his forearms, his corded biceps. You brush your fingertips over the sleeves of his shirt and toward his neck until you’re cupping his throat, your thumbs resting against his hammering pulse.
You close your eyes, remaining still. Both of you remain that way, his hands on your face, yours on his neck. You’re shaking under his touch, feel his breath against your forehead. His fingers add a little pressure to your face, careful not to hurt you where your bruise is finally fading on your nose as he turns you to look up at him.
Soonyoung licks his lips, eyes open. “There is not a second I didn’t love you.”
And there it is. The admission that he never hated you. You bet he tried - you know he tried. You know the inside of Soonyoung’s soul better than you know your own, no part of him hidden to you even with time.
“I don’t care why you did it,” he continues. “Not anymore. Not after everything. I don’t care about any of it. I just… want you.”
“Soonyoung-”
“I know you’re sorry. I know you hate yourself. I know there is guilt eating away at you. Get over it, because none of it changes how I feel. I love you. You’re mine. I don’t want to leave you again. You cannot make me.”
“I know. I won’t make you.”
“Good.” Soonyoung presses his forehead to yours gently. He’s careful not to knock noses with you too hard, aware of the pain it’ll cause. “I cannot do any of this without you.”
“I know.”
Soonyoung’s mouth is tentative when it presses against yours. Your grip on him tightens, leaning forward into the kiss. It is everything - the only thing. You feel something wet on your face, thinking that you’ve got another nosebleed, but when you pull away, you realize it’s because Soonyoung is crying.
Crying for the first time since his parents died.
You stand up from the stool, gripping the back of his neck to pull him toward you. He melts under your touch, letting you meld your mouths together. He tastes like his burnt sandwich and like him, his mouth warm and wet against yours. Vanilla and sandalwood invade your senses, overwhelming as you grip him for dear life, never wanting to let him go.
He doesn’t want to let you go either. His grip on your hips is crushing, fingers digging into flesh and bone as though he can force you to become one. The thought makes you dizzy. You slide your fingers in his silk-soft hair, wrapping the strands around them to pull lightly, pull him closer, pull him to you, pull him back.
Soonyoung whines against your mouth and you break the kiss, panting. “Take me upstairs,” you whisper between peppering kissing against his mouth, his bottom lip, the corner of his lips. “Please take me upstairs.”
He does. Soonyoung grabs you by the hands, tugging you toward the stairs that lead to your room - the room you used to share. The room that still smells like him, even if faintly. He takes you to your bed, where you’ve spent hundreds of nights with him, and lays you down gently like he has a million times before.
Soonyoung touches you like you’re holy. His hands skim over you in worship, they scratch you in penance, they hold you in reverence. He slots himself between your knees, stealing a kiss from you like it’ll breathe new life into him, bare him anew, purge him of sin.
You love him. You love him you love him you love him you love him you love him -
A moan leaves his mouth when your nails drag down his back. He is quaking under your touch, his mouth hungry but careful against yours, wanting to swallow you whole but knowing you’re hurt. You know he won’t break you but you wish he would.
There’s time for that later. Now isn’t the time for rough and biting. Now, Soonyoung peels the shirt from your skin, immediately covering your arms, chest, collarbones, shoulders in kisses. You vibrate under his touch, lashes fluttering as he sucks at the sensitive skin of your neck, tongue pressed flat to your pulse as he tastes you.
You tug at his shirt and he complies, leaning upward to toss it. He’s back on you in a second, pressing you close, hip to hip as he tangles his tongue with yours, drinking you in. His touch ignites a fire and you’re burning, a complete inferno as you drag your fingers up the hard contour of his stomach to the firmness of his chest and around to his shoulders.
“I love you,” he mutters against your mouth, rolling his hips into you. You let out a breathy sound and he groans. “Fuck I love you. I missed you. I love you.”
“Please,” you beg. He understands, burying his face in your neck and biting down lightly. You feel like you’re going to burn up under him, an out of control blaze while his fingers work the buttons on your pants. “Never let me go.”
“Never.”
Jeans scrape down your legs, his hands following. He drags his blunt nails down your thighs. Your hips twitch upward, loving the scratch, loving the way he touches you, loving him. He returns his mouth to yours, unable to get enough of your kissing.
Soonyoung’s hand slips between your thighs, the pads of his fingers pressing against your clit through your underwear. You keen for him, pulling at the long strands of hair at the back of his neck. He moans in tandem, his pleasure driven by yours, loving the way you sound as you start to come apart under the gentle circle of his fingers.
He only teases you a little, knowing the friction with the fabric between his fingers and your aching cunt isn’t enough. He finally decides that you’ve had enough, hooking a finger to pull them aside, the cool air hitting your sticky folds.
Before you can complain, Soonyoung’s touch is there. He drags his fingers slow-soft from top to bottom, circling your clit slowly. He’s not in a hurry, dragging it out as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, sliding his fingers back down to press against your entrance but not breach it.
You whine and he grins, pulling your bottom lip with his teeth until he lets go with a pop. “I love those sounds you make.”
“Feels good,” you admit, head falling to the side as you close your eyes, enjoying the pressure he puts on your clit, wiggling his fingers back and forth. Your thighs close around his hand but he’s unbothered, drawing more arousal from you as he plays. “Fuck, your fingers.”
His laugh is throaty and he shakes his head, attaching his mouth to your jaw where he sucks at the skin. He makes himself comfortable with nibbling toward your neck, both of his hands reaching for the sides of your underwear to pull them down. You let him, folding your knees toward your for a moment to help.
Soonyoung’s hand returns to the wetness between your legs except this time, he’s not teasing. He presses a finger in deep and you whine, hips wiggling. You squeeze down on his finger, pussy spasming as he begins to pump leisurely, like he has all the time in the world.
And he does, doesn’t he? The work is far from done and the world is falling apart, but it doesn’t matter because he’s here with you. Because Soonyoung is yours again - always has been - and because he’s drawing your mouth toward his to kiss you messily, swallowing down your moans as he presses in another finger.
Now you crumble beneath him. You can’t stop your hips from coming off the bed. You loop your arms around his neck, keeping him close, breathing the same air. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes impossible dark and half-lidded as he hooks his fingers, dragging them against that sensitive spot.
You cry out his name and he grins. Now he knows where it is, pressing repeatedly as he fucks you on his fingers, driving you directly toward an orgasm. Your breathing becomes labored, your legs squeezing his hips, your fingers digging into his shoulders. It is so good that you think you might die, letting him yank you toward release.
Soonyoung kisses you again and you come crashing down, cumming around his fingers, body squeezing, ignoring the ache in your ribs and the millions of other places that you’re sore. He doesn’t slow down, scissoring his fingers to pry you open, to stretch you more.
“Soonyoung,” you gasp, voice wrecked. “Soonyoung Soonyoung Soonyoung.”
“Just like that,” he agrees. You can tell he loves the way you say his name, knows that on your tongue it means something different. “Come on, one more.”
You’ll give him anything he wants. Never again will you deny him. You let him work you up again, feeling the way your breath gets stuck in your lungs and you shiver, another wave washing through you as you shudder around his fingers.
When you start to pant, he pulls his fingers out. You feel the wet schlick as he does, immediately hating the way you feel empty, hating the way he leans away from you. Whining, you reach out toward him, needy. He hushes you with a brief kiss, only standing to rid himself of his jeans and briefs.
Using the fingers covered in your arousal, Soonyoung pumps his cock, smearing a mixture of your slick and his precum down his shaft as he kneels on the bed again, taking his place between your thighs again. You watch with hooded eyes as he rubs the head of his cock through your messy folds, a moan dripping from your lips.
Soonyoung is beautiful, skin flushed and a sheen of sweat on his arms. His stomach flexes and clenches as he presses the tip of his cock into your entrance, both of you taking a shaky breath together. He slowly slides home, the stretch of him driving you wild, pussy fluttering around him until he’s slotted to the hilt.
He hangs his head, panting as he plants his hands on either side of your head. He takes a moment to collect himself, shaking. You turn your head to the side, kissing his wrist, peppering any skin you can reach with your love while your hands drift up his back, feeling the muscles flex.
When he begins to move, you nearly die. It feels so good, your breath lodged in your throat. He lowers his face to yours, kissing you as gently as he fucks you. His thrusts are deep and timed, not hard or fast but slow and measured, pressing all the way in as he uses his weight to his advantage.
Your fingers turn to talons on his back, nails biting his shoulder blades. He’s precise, the tip of his cock finding the right angle to make you nearly sob in a matter of a few thrusts. It’s familiar. Home.
Soonyoung lowers himself to his forearms, pressing your chests together. The friction of his skin against your pert nipples makes you squeeze around him, his name a whisper on swollen, kiss-bitten lips. He presses his forehead to yours, breathing shakily as he continues to fuck you.
You feel him everywhere, feel everything that he wants to say. Soonyoung has never needed words to communicate to you and he doesn’t now, the way he shakes as he lets out a wispy moan enough, the way he slides one of his arms under your back to cradle you to his chest, closer closer closer.
He wants to be closer and so do you, arms around his neck, drawing him to you. You never want to let him go, never will let him go. You’ve learned your lesson and this, right here with him is the only thing that matters.
“Shh,” he hushes. You realize you’re crying, tasting salt on your lips when he brushes his mouth against yours. “I know.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
Soonyoung’s pace picks up only a little bit. It’s enough, sending you careening toward your third orgasm. He can feel it - needs it. He chases after your high, catching your mouth to brush his tongue against yours, rolling his hips until you’re clenching around him, whining into his mouth, lips buzzing against his.
He hums against you, waiting until your pussy lets go of its vice grip to speed up a little bit, the wet smack of his hips against yours loud and lewd, driving him forward until he comes, your name on his lips, his face buried in your neck. His thrusts slow, both of you trembling like leaves until he finally stops, remaining seated inside of you.
“I will love you for a thousand lifetimes,” he mutters against your mouth, with no intention of moving. “You know that, right Baby?”
You nod, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. “Leave me at your own peril, Kwon Soonyoung,” you rasp, quoting yourself that first night he finally caved, where he finally told you that he couldn’t exist without you. “I will never go anywhere ever again.”
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SYNDICATE ROLES
Tower - title for a Syndicate boss Wisdom - title for the second-in-command to a Sydnicate boss Architect - title for the main business affairs and political tactician Sentinel - title for the main military leader of a Syndicate Riots - title for a member of the Syndicate responsible for sowing discord Swords - title for a member of the Syndicate who is a fighter/military role Chariots - members of the Syndicate who make deals/act as business brokers Rooks - members of the Syndicate who collect debts/lead the extortion practices Justices - members of the Syndicate on the legal counsel Hanged Men - members of the Syndicate who betrayed their Syndicate Watchers - members of a Syndicate who are spies/informants Patrons - citizens who pay homage/have an alliance/are under the protection of a Syndicate Vanguard - official members of the Syndicate who don't have specific roles but do work for the Syndicate
i read this fic last week and i’ve been trying to let it marinate in my head just so i can find the right words to encapsulate how much i loved it and yet here i still am coming up empty 😭 but i’ll try my best.
(( more beyond the cut, may contain spoilers! ))
“…when you say jump, right?”
every time soonyoung said this, i had to physically clutch my chest BECAUSE 😭😭😭 HE’S SO DOWN BADDDDDDDD
i also loved the old phone detail 🥹 i KNEW that would be very vital in the story and i was right 🙂↔️
BRUH i absolutely LOVED every single thing about this fic, it’s sooooo very cohesive imo and very just right—and i mean that in the most respectful way— it had everything i could ever ask for: interesting plot (✔️) smut (✔️) bit of angst (✔️) down bad SOONYOUNG (✔️) childhood besties to lovers (✔️)
I THINK I’M NOT ABLE TO EXPLAIN IT THAT WELL BUT DANGGGGG i’d be rereading this masterpiece regularly !! i have recommended this to my bestie (also a hoshi girlie & a sucker for good fics) and i am hoping she gets to read it soon so i can dissect it with her !!!!!
TL;DR
i love this fic and i love you (!!) i will surely be reading all of ur works from here on out 🥹🤍
how quiet can you be?
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: choi seungcheol x afb.reader
You’re not worried about Jeonghan seeing you, more so you’re worried he’ll hear. You and Seungcheol have an issue trying to stay quiet. More than once, Joshua and Jeonghan have complained about your noise level. It turns out, you’re so loud that Joshua had invested in noise-canceling headphones.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞(𝐬): established relationship, smut with a little plot
𝐚𝐮(𝐬): nonidol au
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k
𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: lots of teasing
𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotect p in v, clit play, creampie, sex while people can hear from the other room, these two are known to be loud, sex while staying as quiet as possible, marking, mentions of Jeonghan walking in on them in the past.
𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ nsfw
𝐚𝐧: thank you to these lovely humans @facethesunflower , @kwanisms & @supi-wupi for beta reading
𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.
Laying on his soft bed, his toned body is pressed up against your back. His lips are sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck as his large hand is massaging your breast, sending shivers down your spine. He runs his tongue along your skin, knowing exactly what to do to drive you wild. In all the time he’s been with you, he’s learned all the ways to turn you on with little to no effort.
Slowly, you roll your body back against his, earning a sinful moan from him. He rolls his hips against your butt as his length already starts to harden.
“Aren’t we supposed to be going to sleep?” you whisper. You know how this is going to end.
“I would rather do more than sleep,” he rasps, rolling his hips again.
“Jeonghan is going to come home any minute,” you moan as he gently nips at your skin.
“He knows you’re staying the night. He’ll knock before entering.” Jeonghan has a habit of bursting into Seungcheol’s room without asking.
His large hand grips your hip, pulling you closer to his hardened length. You’re not worried about Jeonghan seeing you, more so you’re worried he’ll hear. You and Seungcheol have an issue trying to stay quiet. More than once, Joshua and Jeonghan have complained about your noise level. It turns out, you’re so loud that Joshua had invested in noise-canceling headphones.
“You can’t promise that.” You wiggle your butt against him. You’re playing with fire right now. You know Seungcheol would have no problem having sex with you right now. The thought of Jeonghan accidentally walking in won’t stop him, or even the idea of one of his roommates hearing you.
Seungcheol used to get embarrassed when Jeonghan or Joshua would catch you making out on the living room couch, but you've been walked in on too many times to count. It's at the point where he literally doesn’t care. He’s not the type that wants to have sex out in the living room where his roommates could see, but if they’re stupid enough not to knock and barge into his room, he won’t get embarrassed. There have been a handful of times when Jeonghan has burst into the room and found you fully naked while your boyfriend fucked the living daylights out of you.
“I would prefer that Jeonghan doesn’t see me naked again,” you say, biting back a smile.
“You don’t have to be naked for us to have sex.” His lips brush your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You know if you say no right now he won’t push the issue anymore. The thing is, he’s got you so turned on at this point that you aren’t even sure if you care if Jeonghan walks in or hears you having sex.
“You win. But we have to stay under the covers, and we’re staying in this position.” You can’t help but smile. Having sex while spooning is one of your favorite positions. Seungcheol has not only a long cock, but it’s also thick. When he fucks you from behind, he’s able to hit places and make your brain turn to mush.
He wastes no time pulling off your underwear and pushing his boxers down his thick thighs. His hand reaches over you. His fingers start toying with your sensitive clit. Biting your lip, you try your hardest to hold back your moans.
“Is my baby trying to stay quiet?” He loves to tease you while having sex.
“Cheol—“ you quietly whimper.
“Baby, Shua is in his room. Are you scared he’ll hear you?” His fingers dip down and slowly start pumping in and out of you.
“Um—“
Pulling his finger from your core, he presses his lips to your shoulder. “Lift your leg a little for me baby.” Without a word, you follow his request. Slowly, he pushes in, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. It doesn’t matter that you’ve done this over one hundred times; your body is never fully used to the sheer size of him.
Filled to the brim, his hand rests on your stomach. His lips are kissing anywhere they can reach. Your bottom lip is captured between your teeth.
“Let’s see how quiet you can be,” he teases.
He starts at a slow and deep pace. His hand has moved down so it rests on your mound. His fingers draw slow, lazy circles on your clit. It's clear he’s not trying to make this a quick romp. He intends on dragging this out for you.
One hand grips the sheets below you, while the other holds on to his arm. He’s hitting so deep you feel like you’re seeing stars. The room is filled with the soft sound of his hips hitting your butt and silent gasps. He moans softly in your ear.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to focus on staying silent.
His fingers playing with your clit pick up the pace. He’s trying to push you over the edge. Tilting your head to the side, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses. There is no way he’s not leaving behind marks.
Pushing your hips back, you try to meet his thrusts. Quiet gasps keep passing your lips. It’s taking everything in you not to whine and whimper loudly.
“Such a good girl,” he whispers against your ear.
“Fuck—“ you whisper.
“Come for me, baby.” A tidal wave washes over you. Squeezing your eyes closed, you whisper his name like a sinful prayer.
His large hands grab your hips, holding you still. His thrusts become firm as you ride out your high. The low groans passing his lips let you know he’s on the edge of the cliff.
As your high fades away, you focus on helping him find his release by squeezing your walls around him.
“Baby—“ His grip on your hips tightens and he moans your name in your ear. He paints your walls with his milky release.
He’s snug inside you for a long moment before he pulls out. He crawls off the bed and you lay on your back, staring at the ceiling. He helps clean up his sticky cum that’s already starting to leak out.
He sits next to you, smiling gently while rubbing your thigh. “Just so you know, Shua isn’t home and Jeonghan is on a date with his friend he’s in love with. We have the place to ourselves.” Your smile drops at the fact that this man made you believe you had to be quiet so roommates didn’t hear you.
“You asshole—,“ you scream at him.
“But you were so good, baby. Nice and quiet.”
He’s wearing a cocky grin, and even though you want to be mad at him, you can’t deny that this was a fun game.
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dang this is hot 🥵
and also cheol yOU LITTLE SHIT 😭😭😭
