minnie's note: i would kill anyone just to get arrested by officer choi 👅💦
The knock on the door came at 2:13 a.m.
by the time officer choi seungcheol stepped inside your dimly lit living room, the tension between you was already thick enough to taste.
you sat on the wide leather couch, legs crossed, dark red silk robe barely holding itself together. every time you shifted, the fabric whispered against your skin and slipped a little further off your shoulder, teasing the soft swell of your breast.
seungcheol tried to remain professional. he really did. but his eyes kept dragging over your body.
he cleared his throat and pulled out a small notepad.
“mrs. ___,” he started, voice deep and steady, “i’m going to need you to walk me through tonight. from the beginning.”
you swirled the wine in your glass and smiled faintly.
“of course, officer. where would you like me to start?”
“your husband was found in his office just after midnight. blunt force trauma to the head. neighbors reported hearing raised voices around 9 p.m. can you tell me what that argument was about?”
you leaned back, letting the robe slip another inch.
“the usual. money. his wandering hands. my refusal to keep looking the other way while he embarrassed me in public. married people fight, officer choi. it doesn’t mean i killed him.”
seungcheol’s eyes narrowed. he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“no one said anything about killing. i just find it strange that you seem… calm. most wives would be crying. shaking. you’re drinking wine like it’s any other night.”
you tilted your head, letting your gaze linger on his broad shoulders and the way his uniform stretched across his chest.
“would tears make you feel better, officer? would they convince you i’m innocent?” you took a slow sip, then added softly, “or are you hoping i’m guilty?”
his jaw flexed. he looked away for a second, then back at you.
“where were you between 9 and 11 p.m.?”
“home. i took a long bath. poured myself this wine. tried to forget how loud he could get when he was angry.”
“alone?”
“unfortunately.” you uncrossed your legs slowly, the robe falling open just enough to show you were bare underneath. “very alone.”
seungcheol’s gaze dropped. he stared longer than he should have, throat working as he swallowed. when his eyes finally lifted, they were darker.
“the statue in his office… the one missing a piece. you know anything about that?”
you smiled sweetly.
“it was ugly anyway. he liked expensive, ugly things.”
the room felt hotter. the grandfather clock ticked louder.
seungcheol stood up and walked closer, stopping just in front of you.
“you’re not afraid of me at all, are you?”
“should i be?” you rose slowly until your bodies were nearly touching. “or should i be more afraid of how much you keep looking at me instead of asking real questions?”
he exhaled sharply.
“you’re playing a dangerous game, mrs. ___.”
you reached up and lightly brushed a finger along his tie.
“i think you like it.”
that was all it took.
seungcheol grabbed your waist and pulled you against him, mouth crashing into yours with months of pent-up frustration.
his hands were rough, sliding under the silk robe and pushing it off your shoulders until it pooled at your feet. he groaned at the feeling of your bare skin, palming your ass and squeezing your breast as he walked you backwards toward the couch.
“fuck… you’ve been teasing me this whole time,” he growled against your mouth. “sitting here like a fucking dream while i’m supposed to be investigating you.”
you moaned softly, tugging at his belt.
“then investigate me properly, officer.”
he cursed and pushed you down onto the couch. in seconds he was on his knees, spreading your thighs wide and burying his face between them. his tongue dragged slowly from your entrance to your clit, tasting every inch of you before he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth.
“officer—” you gasped, back arching, fingers burying in his dark hair.
he ate you like a starving man — messy, greedy, and relentless. two thick fingers pushed deep inside you, curling against that spot that made you see stars while his tongue flicked fast and hard over your clit. your thighs shook around his head.
he didn’t stop even when your moans turned into broken cries, sucking harder until you came hard on his tongue, soaking his mouth and chin.
but he kept going, licking you through it, drawing out every shiver until you were whimpering.
when he finally pulled back, his lips were glossy. he stood up, quickly unbuckling his belt and shoving his pants down. his cock sprang free — thick, heavy, and leaking. he stroked it slowly while staring down at your dripping pussy.
“turn around. bend over the couch.”
you obeyed, gripping the back of the couch as he lined himself up. he rubbed the fat head of his cock up and down your folds, teasing your clit until you were pushing back against him desperately.
then he thrust in deep in one stroke, stretching you open.
“fuck— so tight,” he groaned, gripping your hips hard. “this pussy is going to ruin me.”
he started fucking you with deep, powerful strokes, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the mansion. every thrust made your breasts bounce and pulled filthy moans from your throat.
he leaned over you, lips brushing your ear.
“tell me the truth,” he rasped, still pounding into you. “you killed him, didn’t you? smashed that statue over his head while he was yelling at you?”
you clenched hard around his cock.
“yes—” you moaned. “and i’d do it again.”
“fuck,” seungcheol snarled, slamming into you harder. “such a dirty little murderer. letting the cop investigating you fuck you raw the same night.”
his hand slipped around to rub your clit in tight circles. your second orgasm hit you like lightning — legs shaking violently, pussy pulsing around his thick length as you cried out his name.
seungcheol followed with a deep groan, burying himself to the hilt and filling you with hot, thick ropes of cum. he kept thrusting through it, pushing his release deeper inside you.
for a long moment, only heavy breathing and the ticking clock filled the room.
he stayed buried inside you, chest pressed to your back, pressing lazy kisses along your shoulder.
“this never happened,” he whispered, voice rough.
you smiled and squeezed around him.
“of course not, officer… i have no idea how my husband died.”
he chuckled darkly and kiss your shoulder.
“liar.” he slowly pulled out, watching his cum drip down your thighs with dark fascination. then he turned you around and kissed you again, slower, deeper.
his hand gently cupped your jaw.
“you know i’ll have to come back tomorrow for a follow-up.”
you ran your fingers through his messy hair and smiled.
“good. i’ll be waiting… with more wine and fewer answers.”
seungcheol’s eyes darkened again as he tucked himself back into his pants.
“dangerous woman.”
you leaned in and whispered against his lips,
“you have no idea, officer choi.”
The knock on your door came again the next night.
you weren’t expecting him so soon. your heart jumped when you opened the door to find officer choi seungcheol standing there in the same uniform, looking more tired and more dangerous than the night before.
“officer,” you said softly, stepping aside to let him in. “back already?”
he didn’t answer right away. instead, he stepped inside, closed the door, and locked it. his eyes scanned the hallway before landing on you — dark red silk robe, bare feet, wine glass in hand like always.
“we need to talk,” he said, voice low. “now.”
you led him upstairs to the master bedroom, the one you used to share with your husband.
the room still carried the faint scent of his cologne, which made your stomach twist. seungcheol followed you silently, his heavy footsteps echoing behind you.
once inside, you turned to face him.
“what’s wrong? you look… different tonight.”
seungcheol reached into his jacket and pulled out a clear evidence bag. inside was the rest of the broken marble statue — the larger piece you’d hidden in the garden yesterday.
your blood ran cold.
“how did you—”
“i went back to the scene this morning for a second sweep,” he said, placing the bag on the dresser. “found this buried under some soil. you didn’t do a good enough job hiding it.”
you stared at the bag, shock freezing your tongue for a few seconds. your fingers tightened around the wine glass.
“are you… arresting me?” you whispered, voice barely audible.
seungcheol looked at you for a long moment. then he walked over to the marble fireplace in the corner of the bedroom, took the statue piece out of the bag, and smashed it hard against the stone hearth. it shattered into smaller fragments.
your lips parted in disbelief.
“seungcheol… what are you doing?”
he didn’t stop. he gathered the pieces and threw them into the fire that was already crackling low. the marble began to blacken as the flames licked over it.
“i’m helping you,” he said simply, turning to face you. his expression was unreadable. “no fingerprints. no weapon. no case.”
you took a shaky step back, heart hammering.
“why? you’re a cop. this could end your career. why would you risk everything for me?”
he walked closer until he was right in front of you. his hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your lower lip.
“because when i stood in that office yesterday and saw the way he had destroyed everything around him… i knew what kind of man he was. and when i looked at you — calm, beautiful, relieved — i knew what kind of woman you are.” his voice dropped. “you survived him. and i’m not going to let the system punish you for it.”
you were genuinely shocked. your eyes stung with unexpected tears as you searched his face.
“you believe me? just like that?”
“i believe you,” he murmured. “and i want you. even if it makes me a terrible cop.”
the weight of his words hit you hard. you grabbed his uniform shirt and pulled him into a fierce kiss, pouring all your shock, relief, and hunger into it.
seungcheol groaned against your mouth, backing you up until your legs hit the edge of the large king bed.
“i still can’t believe you’re doing this for me,” you whispered between kisses, fingers frantically undoing his buttons.
“believe it.” he pushed the silk robe off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
his hands roamed over your naked body, squeezing your breasts, sliding down your waist. “now get on the bed.”
you climbed onto the mattress, watching hungrily as he stripped off his uniform.
his body was even better than you imagined — broad chest, strong arms, thick thighs, and a heavy cock already hard and leaking for you.
seungcheol crawled over you, spreading your legs wide. he kissed down your body slowly, taking his time to suck on your nipples until they were swollen and sensitive, then moving lower until his mouth hovered over your pussy.
“so wet already,” he groaned. “all this because a cop is helping you cover up murder?”
“yes,” you moaned, hips lifting toward his mouth.
he licked a long, slow stripe up your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth. two thick fingers pushed inside you, curling perfectly while he ate you like he was addicted.
your moans filled the bedroom, getting louder as he worked you closer and closer.
“seungcheol— fuck— i’m going to—”
“cum for me, baby.”
your orgasm crashed over you hard. your back arched, thighs shaking around his head as you cried out his name. he kept licking you through it, gentler now, until you were trembling and breathless.
he moved up your body and kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you felt the thick head of his cock rubbing against your soaked entrance.
“look at me,” he ordered.
your eyes met his as he slowly pushed inside you, stretching you open inch by inch. the feeling was overwhelming — so full, so deep.
“fuck… you feel perfect,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck.
he started moving, deep and steady at first, then harder. the bed creaked beneath you as he fucked you into the mattress, one hand pinning your wrist above your head while the other gripped your thigh.
“tell me again,” he rasped between thrusts. “tell me you’re glad he’s gone.”
“i’m glad,” you moaned, legs wrapping around his waist. “i’m so fucking glad. and i’m yours now.”
seungcheol’s hips snapped harder, pounding into you with wet, filthy sounds.
“that’s right. you’re mine. no one else touches you. no one else investigates you. just me.”
your second orgasm hit you suddenly, pussy clenching tight around his cock as you gasped his name.
seungcheol groaned loudly, thrusting deep a few more times before he came hard inside you, filling you with thick, hot spurts.
he collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily, skin slick with sweat.
after a while, he rolled to the side and pulled you against his chest, still buried inside you.
“you’re really not going to turn me in?” you whispered, tracing a finger over the tiny scar on his eyebrow.
seungcheol kissed your forehead.
“no. we’re going to make this look like a break-in gone wrong. and you’re going to play the grieving widow perfectly.” he smirked. “think you can handle that?”
you smiled against his chest, squeezing around his cock.
“i’ve been playing roles my whole marriage. this one will be easy… especially with you helping me rehearse every night.”
he chuckled darkly, already hardening again inside you.
“then we should practice more. starting now.”
you kissed him slowly, whispering against his lips,
“yes, officer… please investigate me all night long.”
🖤 vernon x f!reader
🖤 2.6k
🖤 mafia au
🖤 guns. blood. torture and interrogation and murder. mentions of various torture tools/methods. guard/attack dog vernon. gunplay. devotion bordering obsession (theyre both insane abt each other). slight misogyny directed towards reader. not smutty but they kiss bc ofc they do. it's not super super dark but proceed with caution. lmk if i forgot anything please!!
🖤 i... have no excuse. the thought entered my brain and clawed its way out and this is nothing like what i've written here before, but... wow, was it fun. and unhinged. and possibly toxic. BUT ANYWAY!! two drabbles in like 12 hours, i'm on a roll wow. thank you @bubbliegubs (and @gent1es3xy) for enabling me lol
Vernon does anything you ask of him. It makes interrogations... interesting.
🖤
Your heels click against the concrete floor – back and forth, back and forth. The man in front of you, bound hand and foot to a chair, is far too confident at the moment for your taste. (The man behind you, silent and stoic and ready, is perfect.)
“I’m not telling you anything,” the scum snaps for the hundredth time. It’s almost enough to make your eye twitch, the way he looks like he might spit at you. If he did, you know he wouldn’t last the night. Maybe he knows it, too, with the way his eyes dart around the room. What was his name? Dojun? Something like that.
He doesn’t really matter, anyway. There are dozens of runners like him that know the name you need. He, like so many others, is expendable.
But it’s so much more fun this way.
“Let me tell you something about myself,” you begin, letting your fingers drag across the careful assortment of weapons on the table. Your nails skitter over them – Scalpels. Knives. Tongs. Ooh, those are always fun. But tonight, as Dojun’s eyes track you back and forth, you know exactly what kind of fun you want. “You know who I am?”
Dojun raises his eyebrows. Scoffs. “Of course I know. But those are just rumors.”
“Mm, rumors. Yes. I’m sure nothing about how I built this empire from my father’s ashes could possibly be true. Because I’m a woman, maybe?”
You toss your hair over your shoulder. Dojun’s eyes follow you. So do someone else’s.
“You’re too pretty for this kind of work,” Dojun says, too cocky for someone tied to a chair. You have half a mind to backhand him. But on the other hand, you just got your nails done, and you’d hate to break one on someone like him. “There’s gotta be someone doing your dirty work, doll.”
“Oh, there is.” He’s given you an opening. The perfect one, maybe. You grin. “He’s perfect, actually. He does anything I ask of him. Shuts up when I tell him to. Speaks when I ask. You could take notes.”
A familiar shadow falls over your shoulder, and your smile widens.
Vernon. Silent and stoic and ready as ever.
You lift your hand, eyes still on Dojun, and let your fingertips trail down Vernon’s cheek. His head bows obediently. His lips ghost against the bare skin of your shoulder.
“You know,” you say, tilting your head to frown at Dojun, “we weren’t supposed to be here tonight. I had reservations at our favorite place.” You click your tongue, flick your finger, and Vernon’s hands move to your hips, just… holding. Dojun’s eyes drop, and you can’t blame him – Vernon’s firm grip and pale skin contrasts beautifully, delectably, with the dark glitter of your fitted dress. It always does. Always will. “And my poor Nonie isn’t very happy about that, is he? Are you, darling?”
Vernon’s voice slides through the cold room, vibrating against your skin as he speaks into your shoulder. His chest burns against your back.
“No, my love.”
You hum. “And what are you hoping for?”
“I’m hoping you kill him quickly.”
Dojun’s eyes flicker with uncertainty, just for a moment. You smile and tilt your head, and, having received permission, Vernon leans in and presses a kiss to the side of your neck. “Thank you,” he even whispers against your skin. You tug on his tie, just once, as you step away, and he lets you go, his feet rooted to the floor.
“Now,” you say, heels clicking as you approach Dojun once more, “I hope you see that I could make him do anything to you. He wouldn’t flinch. I might not want to bloody my fresh set of nails,” you tell him with a flick of the nails, the pretty sparkly set that Vernon lost his mind over just two days ago, “but he has no such qualms. I might not be strong enough to rip your stomach out with my bare hands, but he certainly is. And he quite enjoys it, I might add.”
Dojun scoffs immediately – but it’s too immediate. Too quick. “No one’s crazy enough to do that.” He shifts in the chair, though the restraints make it hard. Good. “You’re just bluffing.”
A laugh of indignation rises, and you turn sharply on your heel to keep from slapping him. He’s really not worth breaking a nail on.
Instead, you hold your hand out, palm up.
Within moments, Vernon’s gun is in your hand, freed from its holster with the smooth fingers and steady hands that have guided you through so much. You smile and face him fully.
“Turn around,” you say, light, like it’s not even a command.
Still, he turns around, his back to you and his hands slipped easily in his pockets. There’s not even tension in the strong line of his shoulders. He’s entirely, utterly, relaxed.
You press the cold tip of the barrel against the soft spot at the base of his skull. His muscles jump for a moment, just a little, but he’s well-trained, and the calm returns rapidly.
“Knees.” This one’s an order. He drops, swift and silent, his knees hitting the ground with the softest little thud. You know he’s been practicing, not wanting to risk hurting himself. It’s endearing, really. You pull the gun away, just for a moment: “Head.” His head snaps back, jaw sharp, eyes meeting yours, and you have to smile, just a bit, at the way his pretty eyes glitter and shine. Just for you. Always just for you.
Then you walk around to his front. His eyes stay fixed on you, his hands still in his pockets, his head craned back even though it cannot be comfortable. His thighs will start to shake, eventually, with how far back he’s leaning. Not yet, though. He’s strong.
You hold out the gun, handle towards him, but he doesn’t move.
“Spin the chamber,” you tell him, and just like that, the gun is in his hands. He spins it, quick and precise, then locks it in place and returns it to you. His eyes only flick down once, but they return to yours as quickly as they’d left. You take the gun with one hand, and with your other you cradle his chin. His eyelashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes open and on you.
You tilt his head even further back and press the tip of the gun to the hollow of his throat.
Then his Adam’s apple. He goes completely still – doesn’t swallow. Doesn’t even breathe.
Then the underside of his chin. The muzzle fits neatly into the crook of his bone, dark against his pale skin.
You cock the gun. One move, now, one twitch of your finger on the trigger, and he’s gone.
Vernon knows. But his eyes stay fixed on you. I don’t mind, he told you once, as long as I can see you. Then if anything were to happen, though I trust that it won’t, your face will be the last thing I see. You’d kissed him for that. Again and again and again. And now his eyes stayed on you, beautiful and brown and trusting, despite the active weapon against his skin.
He’s gorgeous.
“There’s no bullets in there,” Dojun declares.
Ugh. You’d almost forgotten he was there.
“You’re just pretending –”
You turn your head just enough to glare at him, and he shuts up.
“Would you like to tell me the name of your supplier now? Or do you need more proof that he would do anything I asked of him, including bringing me your spine to hang on my wall?”
Vernon’s fingers twitch where his hands are folded in front of him. He’s so eager. It’s adorable. You glance at him with a smile that eases the apology from his face.
“Not yet,” you tell him softly. “Soon, darling.”
“Soon?” Dojun blurts, but you ignore him. Let him stew in his own thoughts for a moment. Vernon, with his patient eyes and his trembling thighs, matters far more.
You tilt the gun, letting it dig into his chin a little more, and he rises with the pressure, nearly contorting his body to follow the slow rise of your hand. He could just stand up. But he doesn’t. He lets you guide him.
“The thing about someone like my Nonie,” you tell Dojun, although you don’t look at him, “is that he’s very hard to control. It might not look like it, I know, but trust me. I’m the only thing holding him back.”
You snap the hammer back into place, spin your grip on the gun, and level the barrel at yourself. Vernon’s eyes flash for a moment, worried, but then the trust settles back in.
“If anything happens to me,” you say as Vernon takes the handle, “he has full permission to do as he likes with you.” You let your fingertips trail down the barrel, guiding the tip to rest just above the line of your dress, in the hollow of your throat. It’s warm now, pressed against Vernon’s skin for so long. Your eyes drift to Dojun. He’s watching, silent, and you can almost see his heart beating in his throat. “And he likes to get messy with his toys.”
You reach up, eyes still on your prey, and cock the gun.
Once again, your life is in Vernon’s hands. There’s nowhere else you’d rather have it be.
Vernon doesn’t move. You lace your hands together behind your back. “But nothing is going to happen to me,” you say easily, “because Nonie is going to point that gun at himself, instead.”
You haven’t even finished by the time he’s fitted the muzzle back under his chin, finger still on the trigger.
“Good,” you tell him, brushing the backs of your fingers across his cheek. His throat bobs, and his eyes fill with an adorable longing, but you know he’s alright. He’d let you know if he wasn’t. “Stay.”
Dojun flinches as you turn to him. Oh. That’s good.
“So?” You smile.
He clears his throat. It doesn’t stop his voice from squeaking when he says, “I still think there’s nothing in there.”
You let your smile drop.
“Nonie, shoot him.”
BANG!
Vernon’s arm is extended past your shoulder, finger tight on the trigger, and Dojun’s screaming as blood trickles from a neat hole in his shoulder. You pat Vernon’s cheek, then step forward again, careful to avoid the growing puddle of blood. You’d hate for your dress to get dirty.
“Sorry,” you hum, tuning out the mindless blabber of screams. “What was that you were saying about the bullets?”
He just screams.
You sigh. “Never been shot before? How disappointing. I was hoping you’d have a higher pain tolerance. But maybe we should work on that. Put a matching bullet in your other shoulder, perhaps?”
“NO!” Dojun screams – the first comprehensible word since the bullet went in him.
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh. Then tell me who your supplier is.”
“THE BULGAE!” Is Dojun crying? Oh, he really is disappointing.
But there’s your answer.
You straighten up. He’s begging for his life now, or something; you’ve stopped listening.
Vernon holds out the gun, handle offered to you, and you take it. But then you pause and glance up at him. His eyes are alive, his face sharp and perfect as ever, but a single lock of silvery hair has fallen into his face.
You brush it aside with the tip of the gun. He doesn’t flinch. He just looks down at you, gaze dark with adoration.
“There,” you say decidedly. “Perfect.” Dojun’s still screaming. He might be fully sobbing now. You really couldn’t care less.
You hook the gun beneath Vernon’s chin again. Slowly you draw him in. His breath catches, but you know it’s not from the burning steel against his skin. Not when his eyes are roving over your face, desperate as a dying man in the desert.
But he doesn’t move past where you’ve led him to. Because he’s a gentleman. (And a good boy.)
Oh, he’s everything.
“Go ahead,” you whisper, and Vernon doesn’t need to be told twice. You’ve given him permission, now, for whatever he wants, and he’s going to take it.
He cradles your face in his hands like you’re gold and jewels, and he kisses you like you’re oxygen and he can’t breathe. He’s been waiting so patiently, and you know what? So have you.
You let go of the gun, and before it can even fall he’s dropped a hand from your cheek to catch it. He knows you so well. He kisses you so hard that you almost don’t hear the screams.
Your hands curl into the lapels of his suit. His mouth burns against yours, soft and wet and perfect. His other hand slides from your cheek to your shoulder, down your back to your waist, and then his arm locks around your waist and he dips you.
Vaguely you notice the gun, reaching out over your head. Vaguely you hear it fire, again and again and again, and you feel Vernon’s body rock with the kickback as he empties the chamber into Dojun’s body. You don’t really care anymore. You barely cared in the first place. All that matters now is the way Vernon’s tongue dances with yours.
By the time you come up for air, the room is silent but for Vernon’s ragged breaths and your own quiet pants. His eyes are wild, sparkling, fixed on yours, riding the high of kissing you and killing a man at the same time. That’s his favorite way to do it, anyway.
There’s a little spot of blood on his cheek, dark red against pale skin, and you reach up and swipe it away with your thumb. You let your nails rest against his cheek, lifting your thumb just enough for him to see the red smear.
“Messy,” you chide. He drops his eyes to your hand, but only for a moment. Then his fiery gaze meets yours again.
“I’m sorry, my love.” His voice rolls over you, low and soft and worshipping and truly apologetic. “Here. Let me.”
He leans forward and presses his lips to the pad of your thumb. Gently, ever so gently, he kisses the blood away, his gaze locked on yours, and you just… watch. He’s so incredibly perfect. He only needs one arm to keep holding you up, even halfway to horizontal in this wonderfully low dip. The other hand, holding the gun, stays far away from you; he’d rather let his arm get sore than risk burning you.
When the blood is gone, he starts to pull back, but you catch his tie before he can move too far. He doesn’t even need you to guide him in again, and this time when he kisses you, it tastes of iron and steel and fire.
Eventually he guides you back to your feet, drawing you back towards the door and away from the bloody mess spilling over the concrete. He tosses the gun in the corner. His hand stays firm on your waist, even as he opens the door and ushers you through. He doesn’t like letting you go, and you don’t mind. You’ll be in his arms again soon, anyway, so why waste time?
“Clean up,” you order with a flick of your hand, and someone slips away. “The Bulgae have been supplying him and the others,” you tell someone else, and he nods and disappears.
The rest of the hallway empties quickly. Everyone knows not to get in your way.
Especially not when you’ve got Vernon at your side.
🌕 pairing: husband!dad!seungcheol x fem!reader
🌕 genre/content: parent au, idol au
🌕 warnings: suggestive babymaking at the end LOL
🌕 summary: Seungcheol thinks about the best gift he's ever received
🌕 a/n: you ask for more dad seungcheol, i deliver!
🌕 dad!seungcheol series: a chance encounter | mess | snow
You smile at your husband as he walks around to your side of the bed and places a glass of water on your nightstand. He then immediately proceeds to climb on top of you to get to his side of the bed instead of going around again.
You laugh while shoving Seungcheol off of you.
“Babe, you’re heavy,” you groan when he stops moving and lies his whole body on you.
“Funny, you weren’t saying that the other night,” he teases with a cheeky wink.
“Ugh, you’re nasty!” you laugh, successfully pushing him off of you.
He rolls next to you and gets under the covers so he can pull you into his chest. Not before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
This is his favorite part of your nighttime routine. Just a quiet moment before bedtime before…
“Daddy!”
He spoke too soon.
You and Seungcheol watch as your six year old son comes running into the room holding a book and his big black bear plushie.
Seungcheol reluctantly lets go of you so he can pull his son into his lap.
“What’s up, buddy?”
“Daddy, what is the best gift you’ve ever gotten?”
Seungcheol pauses for a moment to deeply think about life’s greatest gifts, even though he already has an answer.
Getting approached in the street by Pledis for an opportunity that would blossom into something bigger than he could’ve ever imagined when he was in middle school.
Building an incredibly strong relationship with the twelve other members of his group over twenty years. They’ve taught so much about what it means to work hard, have fun, and be kind.
Having a flourishing career that has allowed him to make his own music with his friends, travel to many parts of the world with unique cultures, meet people who love and support him beyond words, and pursue opportunities that take him outside of his comfort zone.
The day in September when he went to the animal shelter and saw a small white dog, whom he ended up adopting. Kkuma taught him responsibility and gave him a reason to go home every night. And it was Kkuma who led him to … you.
You. You are the love of Seungcheol’s life. While he loved his career, it was incredibly difficult to maintain romantic relationships. He was always away, always trying to be better, always careful with his every move, and after a few failed relationships, he stopped trying. But then he met you and knew he had to give love another chance.
And here you are years later, married with two children.
With a quick, dimpled smile at you, Seungcheol adjusts his son in his lap and pretends to think out loud.
“Hmmmmm,” he ponders with a finger to his chin and his eyes to the ceiling.
“My favorite gift?”
Your son giggles, holding his bear close while he waits for his dad to answer.
“The best gifts I’ve ever received are you and your sister!” Seungcheol exclaims with a poke to his son’s tummy.
While your son tells his dad how pleased he is with this answer, you take a long look at your husband.
Yes, he’s handsome and has a nice body and nice arms, but this is who you fell in love with. Seungcheol, who would insist you go back to sleep when your son was a newborn and crying at 2 in the morning. Seungcheol, who changed diapers and read bedtime stories and bought mountains of toys. Seungcheol, who did it all over again when you had a daughter a few years later. Yes, you loved Seungcheol as a husband, but you have loved him even more as a father.
He wears his heart on his sleeve, out in the open. He teaches your children to be kind and grateful. He reminds them how much he loves them.
You don’t think you could’ve picked a better man to be the father of your children.
Your son leans over to give you a hug good night and you watch Seungcheol carry him to bed.
Fatherhood looks good on your husband. But you always knew that.
When he comes back a few minutes later and gets into bed, you get closer and grasp his face in your hands and kiss him. He’s surprised at first, but he instantly takes over and lays you down on your back so he can kiss you harder. When you pull apart, you’re both breathing heavily. His eyes have gone a shade darker. He licks his lips as he looks down at you, thinking about where he wants this night to go. You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper how much you love him.
genre: idol!wonwoo, nonidol!reader, mention of nudes, kisses, menace reader
word count: 755~
the sun was blazing over the resort pool, but it did nothing to warm the sulky cloud hanging over you.
you lay stretched out on the sunbed in your sleek black bikini, the one that hugged every curve like it was custom-made for trouble. your phone rested on your stomach, screen dark for the tenth time that hour.
wonwoo’s last text had been a dry “busy with soundcheck, miss you” four hours ago.
sohee dropped into the lounger beside you, cocktail in hand, sunglasses perched on her head.
“okay, spill. you’ve been staring at that phone like it personally betrayed you for three days straight. what did your fiancé do this time?”
you sighed, swirling the straw in your own drink.
“he’s just… short. one-word answers. voice notes that end in two seconds. i know the tour’s exhausting, but I’m starting to feel like an afterthought.”
sohee smirked, that dangerous little smile she got when an evil plan was forming.
“men are so predictable. especially when they’re away and think they have everything under control.”
she leaned in, lowering her voice even though no one was around. “send him a picture. right now. you in this bikini. view once. make it impossible for him to ignore.”
you blinked. “sohee—”
“trust me. he’ll either reply like a normal human or book the next flight. probably both. they act all cool until you remind them what’s waiting at home.”
you chewed your lip, heat crawling up your neck that had nothing to do with the sun.
the bikini did look lethal on you. after a moment of hesitation, you angled your phone, took a few shots arched back, one hand in your hair, sultry half-smile and picked the best one.
View once. Sent.
you tossed the phone aside and tried to act normal. sohee just cackled and clinked her glass against yours.
fifteen minutes later, your phone rang.
wonwoo’s name flashed on the screen.
you answered with a lazy grin. “hello, stranger.”
“baby” his voice was low, a little breathless. “send it again.”
you laughed softly. “oh? the picture’s gone already? That’s crazy.”
“i know you did it on purpose.” He sounded equal parts amused and desperate. “come on. just once more.”
you sat up, enjoying this far too much. “you barely texted me for days, wonwoo. short replies, no calls… and now you’re demanding pictures?” you made a thoughtful hum. “i think compensation is in order.”
“name it.”
your smile widened. “kisses. through the phone, until i say stop.”
there was a half-second pause—then the soft, unmistakable sound of him kissing the speaker. once. teice. slow, deliberate, almost embarrassingly sincere.
he kept going, murmuring between each one, “miss you… want you here… love you…” in that deep, velvet voice that always melted you.
you bit your lip, cheeks burning. “more, convince me you’re sorry.”
he obeyed like a well-trained puppy, kissing the phone again and again without complaint.
on the other side of the world, in the green room backstage, mingyu and seungkwan froze mid-conversation.
wonwoo was sitting on the couch, phone held close to his face, eyes half-closed, repeatedly pressing his lips to the screen with soft little sounds.
mingyu’s water bottle stopped halfway to his mouth.
seungkwan’s eyes went comically wide. “hyung… are you… making out with your phone right now?”
wonwoo didn’t even flinch, too focused. “Shh.”
your voice suddenly floated out from the speaker, playful and teasing. “Keep going and maybe I’ll send you the bikini one again… plus a couple without the bikini this time.”
mingyu choked.
seungkwan let out a scandalized squeak before dissolving into laughter, nearly falling off the arm of the couch. “nude pics?! Yah, keon Wonwoo! in the green room!”
Wonwoo finally lowered the phone, ears bright red, but the tiniest smirk played on his lips. He looked completely unbothered by his members howling at him.
“laugh all you want,” he said calmly, already typing something back to you. “at least I have a fiancée who sends me pictures like that.”
mingyu wheezed. “he’s not even ashamed!”
seungkwan clutched his stomach. “hhe stoic wonwoo hyung is down bad. Someone take a picture—wait, no, he might kiss that one too!”
wonwoo just shook his head, phone already ringing again as he stood up to find a quieter corner. he didn’t care that he was the group’s laughing stock for the rest of the day.
he had you waiting on the other end of the line.
and he was booking that flight the second the tour schedule allowed.
age gap arranged marriage with wonwoo. takes your virginity months after the wedding day. thinks you’re all innocent and naive but once you start dirty talking him he realizes you’re a freakkk. 🙈🙈🙈 love your writing btw!!
Thank you for saying that about my writing, I love your request 😏 I hope you like it!! i LOVE a good age gap
18+ content, MDNI
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who really didn't want to get married at all but his parents need him to have an heir to the Jeon fortune. They said 35 is a ridiculous age for a man of his place in society to be unmarried and so he had to leave his bachelor lifestyle behind him.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who isn't mad when he meets you a few days before the wedding. You're fresh out of university and the heiress to a fortune, add that to your classic beauty, he knew he could've fared a lot worse from this little arrangement.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who senses that you're maybe not entirely comfortable with him yet, he gets it, he doesn't know you either and this is only a marriage of convenience after all. And so he doesn't try to make anything happen between the two of you, he's aware you're a virgin and he knows you'll be worried about the whole sex thing.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who one day a few months after your wedding brings up the awkward conversation he'd just had with his father. "Any news on an heir yet? You firing blanks or something?" was what his father said to him and he knew it was time to finally do something.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who is a little taken aback when you say yes straight away, even somewhat eagerly. He's used to you tripping over your words a little with him and, if anything, he finds his ability to fluster you pretty endearing. You're so gentle around him that he's a little worried that you're going to shy away from him when it comes to actually doing it.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who is laying against the headboard that same evening, not expecting anything to happen straight away. Losing your virginity is a big thing and he doesn't want to rush it.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo whose book nearly flies out of his hand when you crawl up the bed and into his lap, freshly showered and in the skimpiest little black silk nightgown he's ever seen.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who feels his dick stir straight away against his pyjamas when you sit on him, nightgown so far up your thighs that if he really looked closely he'd see you've nothing on underneath it, and so low that he can almost see your nipples from the way it's clinging round your perfect tits.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who if he was shocked by the way you've just crawled up his body, is completely baffled by the way you pout innocently, your finger tracing patterns on his chest, and ask him to please please fuck your needy little pussy, you've been waiting so long for him to finally make you his.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who doesn't stop you when you move down his body, taking his pyjama bottoms with you and begging him to choke on his big dick, telling him that you've being thinking about what it'd feel like to have him in your mouth for so fucking long.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who was expecting anything but this from the timid little virgin he married a few months ago, especially when you lick a long strip up his fat dick and tell him you can't wait to find out what it feels like to taste him.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who really wants to be kind about this, its your first time, but somehow your mouth is like fucking heaven on his dick and he can't resist holding the back of your head and shoving you down on his hard length. When you moan from the grip he has on you he starts to realise even more that you're NOTHING like he expected.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who smirks wickedly at you when you finally come up for air from the best blow job of his life and pout, it that same fake innocent way that you did earlier, telling him that you really want him to cum down your throat but your pussy is so desperate for him, that you want him to fuck you into the mattress.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who can do nothing but stare at you in awe when you throw your nightgown off and lay spread out for him, begging him to fill your tight little virgin pussy up with his big delicious dick. Telling him about how you've always wanted an older man to take it because they really know how to fuck and asking him does he not want to know how good your younger tighter body feels around him?
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who lines himself up with your dripping core but just as he's about to ask if you're really ok with this, you tell him to hurry up and fuck you, you just want to know what it feels like to be full of him.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who feels like he's hit the fucking jackpot when you tell him how fucking good he feels inside you and you're going to be such a good fucking wife for him, that you'll be the best fuck he's ever had and how fucking good he feels inside you. The fact that you're pussy feels better than any other he's ever had is just an extra bonus.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who growls in your ear when you beg him to fuck you harder, harder until you're moaning like even the best pornstars and your pussy is just a wet, squelching mess.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who thinks the sound of you cumming around him might be the best sound he's ever heard.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who quickly changes his mind about that the second he hears you begging him to fill you up. Your filthy fucking mouth telling him again and again how much you want his hot sticky cum deep inside you. And who is he to refuse?
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who can't help but think he might really love you when you say thank you for filling you up so well, that sweet innocent look back on your face after you've just been one of the filthiest fucks he's ever had.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who can't help but chuckle when you both get cleaned up and get back into bed and you seem somewhat shy when he opens his arms to cuddle a bit before you go to sleep, wondering where on earth the dirty minded virgin has gone.
Arranged marriage Wonwoo who thinks that his parents may have inadvertently found the love of his life and promises himself he's going to eat you out so fucking well in the morning, just to hear what other filth might stumble out of your pretty little mouth.
Warnings: smut (MDNI), Roughish sex, dom!mingyu x sub!reader, degradation (mingyu calls the reader a slut), marking, fingering, anal, spanking, multiple orgasams, overstimulation,
Genre: Smut (MDNI)
A/N: HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO MY GOLDEN BOY. JSJSBSSJWJ.
The clock struck midnight, and the apartment was dimly lit by the flicker of birthday candles on a half-eaten cake. Mingyu's birthday had been low-key. Just you, him, and a bottle of whiskey that had loosened both your tongues. He lounged on the couch in his black tank top and sweatpants, his broad shoulders relaxed, but his eyes burned with that familiar hunger as he watched you clear the plates. At 29, Mingyu was all muscle and mischief, his sharp jawline shadowed by stubble, and those full lips curved into a smirk that made your thighs clench.
"Best birthday yet," he murmured, voice low and gravelly from the alcohol. You sauntered back, hips swaying, wearing nothing but his oversized shirt that barely skimmed your ass. No panties underneath, your little secret for the night. You straddled his lap without a word, feeling the heat of his body through the thin fabric. His hands immediately gripped your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
"Happy birthday, Gyu," you whispered, grinding down against the growing bulge in his pants. He groaned, head falling back as his cock twitched under you. "What do you want for your present?"
His eyes darkened, one hand sliding up to fist your hair. "You. All fucking night. No holding back." He yanked your head back, exposing your throat, and latched his mouth onto your skin, sucking hard. Teeth scraped, marking you as his. You gasped, pussy already soaking the front of his sweatpants as you rocked against him.
Mingyu flipped you onto your back in one swift move, the couch creaking under his weight. He ripped the shirt open, buttons popping, exposing your bare tits. His mouth descended, capturing one nipple between his teeth and biting down just enough to sting. You arched, fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer. "Fuck, yes. Harder."
He obliged, sucking and nipping until your nipple was red and swollen, then switched to the other. His free hand shoved between your legs, fingers finding your slick folds. No teasing, he plunged two inside your pussy, curling them against that spot that made your walls flutter. "So wet already," he growled against your skin. "This cunt's dripping for my birthday cock."
You moaned, legs spreading wider as he pumped his fingers, thumb circling your clit roughly. The wet sounds filled the room, obscene and filthy. He added a third finger, stretching you, scissoring them to open you up. Your hips bucked, chasing the pressure building in your core. "Mingyu, please, I need you inside me."
He pulled his fingers out with a slick pop, bringing them to your mouth. "Taste how nasty you are for me." You sucked them clean, tongue swirling around his digits, eyes locked on his. The salt of your arousal mixed with whiskey on your tongue. Satisfied, he stood, shoving his sweatpants down. His cock sprang free, thick, veined, the head already leaking pre-cum. Nine inches of hard heat that made your mouth water and your pussy throb.
Mingyu grabbed your ankles, yanking you to the edge of the couch. He slapped his cock against your pussy, the heavy weight smacking your clit. You whimpered, trying to angle for penetration, but he held you still. "Beg for it. Tell me what a slut you are on my birthday."
"Please, Mingyu," you panted, voice breaking. "Fuck my pussy. Stretch me with that big cock. I want to be your dirty little present. Use me, cum inside me."
With a feral grunt, he thrust in, bottoming out in one brutal stroke. Your walls clenched around him, the burn of the stretch making stars burst behind your eyelids. He didn't wait. Hips snapping forward, pounding into you relentlessly. The couch shook with each slam, his balls slapping against your ass. "Tight as fuck," he hissed, hands pinning your thighs wide. "This pussy's mine tonight. Gonna wreck it."
You clawed at his arms, nails leaving red trails on his biceps. Every thrust hit deep, his cock dragging against your g-spot, building that coil in your belly. Sweat dripped from his brow onto your tits, and he leaned down to lick it off, tongue flat and rough. "You like that? Getting railed like a whore on my special day?"
"Yes, god, yes," you cried, pussy spasming around him. He shifted, hooking your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half. The new angle let him go deeper, his pubic bone grinding your clit with every plunge. You were a mess. Juices leaking down your ass, tits bouncing wildly.
Mingyu's pace turned punishing, grunts mixing with the wet squelch of your bodies colliding. He reached down, pinching your clit hard, and you shattered. Orgasm ripped through you, walls milking his cock in tight pulses. "Fuck, cumming!" you screamed, squirting around him, soaking his thighs.
He didn't stop, fucking you through it, prolonging the waves until you were sobbing. "That's one," he panted, pulling out suddenly. His cock glistened with your cum. He flipped you onto your stomach, yanking your ass up. "Now for round two. Spread those cheeks."
You obeyed, reaching back to part your pussy lips, exposing your dripping hole. Mingyu spat on your asshole, rubbing the saliva in with his thumb. "Gonna claim every part of you tonight." He pressed the head of his cock against your pussy again, sliding in slow this time, teasing. Then, without warning, he pushed his thumb into your ass, breaching the tight ring.
The double penetration made you keen, pushing back for more. He thrust his cock deep while fingering your ass, alternating rhythms to keep you on edge. "Such a nasty girl. Taking it in both holes for my birthday. You love being stuffed, don't you?"
"More," you begged, face pressed into the cushions. "Finger me harder. Make me cum again."
He added a second finger to your ass, scissoring them wide while his hips pistoned. The fullness was overwhelming, your pussy gushing around his cock. Mingyu's free hand came down on your ass cheek. Smack. Leaving a red handprint. "Count them," he ordered.
"One," you gasped as he spanked again, the sting blooming into heat. "Two. Three. Fuck, Mingyu!" By ten, your ass was on fire, each slap making your pussy clench tighter.
He pulled his fingers out, replacing them with his cock. No prep, just the slick from your pussy easing the way. You cried out as he sank into your ass, inch by inch, the tight heat gripping him like a vice. "So fucking tight back here," he groaned, bottoming out. He started slow, letting you adjust, then ramped up, fucking your ass with deep, rolling thrusts.
You reached under, rubbing your clit frantically as he reamed you. The taboo fullness pushed you over again, orgasm crashing hard. "Cumming. Your cock in my ass is making me cum!" Your body shook, ass squeezing him rhythmically.
Mingyu growled, pulling out and flipping you once more. He straddled your chest, fisting his cock. "Open wide. Gonna paint your face and tits." You stuck out your tongue, mouth eager. He jerked himself fast, the veins bulging, until ropes of hot cum shot out. First across your lips, then your cheeks, dripping down to your neck. He aimed lower, coating your tits in thick spurts, marking you completely.
Panting, he smeared the cum over your skin with his cockhead, then pushed into your mouth. "Clean me up, birthday slut." You sucked greedily, tongue lapping every drop, tasting your ass and his release mixed together.
But he wasn't done. Mingyu hauled you to the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed. He stripped fully, muscles rippling under tanned skin, cock already hardening again. "On your knees. I want that pussy riding me until I fill it."
You mounted him as a reverse cowgirl, sinking down onto his length with a moan. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you bounced, ass jiggling with each drop. He spanked you sporadically, the slaps echoing. "Faster. Milk my cock with that greedy cunt."
You rode him hard, grinding your clit against his base, chasing another high. Mingyu sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist, his other hand choking your throat lightly. "Cum with me," he demanded, thrusting up to meet you.
The pressure built fast. His cock swelling inside you. You shattered first, pussy convulsing, and he followed, flooding your depths with pulse after pulse of cum. It overflowed, trickling down his balls as you collapsed forward.
He held you there, cock softening inside, kissing your shoulder. "Best fucking birthday," he whispered, voice sated but still intense. You smiled, spent and sticky, knowing you'd do it all again tomorrow.
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