ꨄ︎ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Seungcheol is quite needy this morning. Will you give in?
ꨄ︎ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: husband!Seungcheol x f.reader
ꨄ︎ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: pwp, smut, a lil fluff, 18+
ꨄ︎ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (missionary, riding), nail digging, overstimulation, clit stimulation
ꨄ︎ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.8K words
ꨄ︎ 𝐀𝐍: Randomly thought about Seungcheol begging for it randomly this weekend and I needed to write it haha. Thank you @hannieoftheyear for looking at this so quickly. Love youuuuu <3
“Come on, baby—”
“No, Cheol. I have to go to work, and I cannot be late again.”
“Just the tip, please—”
“Cheol.”
It’s one of those mornings when your husband, Seungcheol, can’t keep his hands off you. It started early this morning when he woke you up with kisses before your alarm went off five minutes later. Not wanting to risk being late, you slipped out of bed and ran into the shower, hoping it would stop his antics. But then you catch him watching you as you dry off, discreetly palming himself under the blanket. You feel him creep up on you as you’re bent over, rubbing your body with your favorite lotion that leaves you smelling divine. You throw him a look in the mirror, watching him gaze at you with a mix of love and lust.
“It’s not happening, sir,” you warn, turning to face him. “I can’t be late to work today.”
“Why?” He raises his brows. “Do you have an important meeting today?”
“No,” you say carefully, acutely aware that you are still naked. “I just don’t want to be late today.”
You are putting up a brave front, stepping around him and into the closet. His hand brushes against your hips on the way, and tiny jolts of excitement spread throughout your body. Despite you saying no, your body says the opposite, your insides practically screaming to let him put in said tip. It doesn't help that Seungcheol looks the sexiest in the mornings, with his sleepy look and slightly disheveled hair. You imagine your fingers running through it, tugging it tightly while you kiss his perfect lips, riding him—
“Ahem.”
Snapping out of your reverie, you glance at Seungcheol before praying your perfume and body mist. He saunters toward you, his hands caressing your hips as his lips grace your neck. Your breath hitches involuntarily, your body betraying you as it reacts to his touch. He knows what he is doing, and you want to give in, but you must stay strong and stick to the schedule.
“Seungcheol,” you softly murmur, attempting to free yourself from him gently. “Not now.”
His fingers sneak lower, flirting with your bikini line. You turn, squinting your eyes at him before successfully unwrapping his hands around you and walking away. You had to leave for your own sake, because if you stayed a minute more, he would have you bent over the bathroom counter, again.
“I don’t know why you’re fighting it,” Seungcheol’s voice carries from the closet. “I know you’re thinking about it.”
A slow smirk plays on your lips, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the vivid imagery playing in your head. Your body tingles with excitement and lust, thinking of the last time he suggested ‘just the tip.’ You hear shuffling in the closet, and you pretend to look busy, digging for something imaginary to deter Seungcheol on his conquest. Unfortunately for you, when you turn around, Seungcheol is shirtless, twirling the matching set of bra and panties you had set out for today. He has a mischievous glint in his eye that makes you gulp. God, you are in trouble.
“Are you looking for these?” Seungcheol asks, feigning innocence.
“Possibly…” your voice trails off, squinting your eyes at him. “Not sure how you ended up with them.”
“Maybe I wanted to help you get dressed, since you don’t want to be late and all.”
You scoff, moving towards him and attempting to grab your undergarments. “I’m a big girl,” you roll your eyes. “I can dress myself.”
“I know, I know,” Seungcheol nods in agreement. “But wouldn’t it be so much quicker if you had help?”
You raise your brow at him, aware of the game he is trying to play. You watch him lower himself to his knees, lifting your leg and sliding your panties through it. His eyes are pleading, practically begging for what he wants. He licks his bottom lip at the sight of your naked center, a small sigh escaping his lips. Heat surges through you like a blue flame, your cunt undoubtedly wet and craving his tongue.
“Stop,” you murmur, locking your gaze with his. “You know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?” Seungheol teases, kissing your inner thigh. “Tell me.”
“Don’t be coy with me,” you say with a resigned sigh. Looking at the time displayed on your digital clock, you gently grab his chin with your fingers. “Do it before I change my mind.”
“With pleasure, baby.”
His tongue graces your folds, tasting and playing with your clit in ways that make you gasp, clutching onto his hair. He doesn’t break his contact with you, carnal lust taking over him as he hums in your pussy. Pleasure courses through your body at the littlest movements, your hips slowly riding his tongue.
Seungcheol grips your thighs tighter, and he delves deeper, slurping and moaning sounds echoing in the room. The vibrations of his lips make you twitch, gripping his hair tighter. “Fuck, Cheol,” you grit your teeth, pleasure shooting through your abdomen.
“You look divine on my tongue, baby,” he murmurs, not letting up. “Give me more.”
With renewed vigor, Seungcheol slips two fingers inside of you, and you see heaven. Your pussy clenches around him, his tongue flattening against your clit as he thrusts into you relentlessly. You’re coming undone, legs shaking as his name spills from your lips like a mantra. You make the mistake of looking down, his lips and cheeks covered with your nectar, and it sends you over the edge, screaming colorful obscenities as you fall into an abyss of pleasure.
Seungcheol is earnest, lapping up everything you offer him, gripping you tighter until your legs give out, your bed being your saving grace as you fall back. He chuckles, licking his lips incessantly as your wetness is spread all over his face. Mind fuzzy from the pleasure, you lie back on the bed, your sheets giving you a soft, cool reprieve to the hot sensation spreading all over your body.
“Are you okay, love?”
You make a minimal effort to lift yourself, studying your husband as he licks his lips, completely satisfied.
“I am… a puddle,” you burst into a giggle, in disbelief. “I can’t believe I let you rope me into that.”
“I can be creative,” Seungcheol gloats, running his fingers through his hair. The bed creaks as he climbs on, towering over you and kissing you deeply. You’re in a daze, his lips and your taste on his tongue putting you in a trance. You feel strung out, overflowing with a lust that only your husband can fix, and it doesn’t help that his tip is poking at your entrance through his boxers.
“So,” he clears his throat, drawing lines across your chest. “Did I earn it?”
You throw him a look before letting out a silvery laugh. Seungcheol, ever the pleaser since you first met him, will always make sure he does a good job. “I think you managed.”
Seungcheol looks at you, surprised, amusement etched on his face. “Managed?”
“Yes. Managed,” you tease him. “You could always be better.”
You roar into laughter as Seungcheol lifts your legs, shoving down his sweats and his large cock springing free. He taps it on your clit, oversensitivity and pleasure shooting through your thighs. Your nails dug into his arm in retaliation, a fire burning your belly as you crave to be fucked.
“Just the tip?” He asks, sliding slowly into your wetness. Your fingers cling to your sheets, your eyes rolling back as his girthy cock goes in inch by inch. You shouldn’t have teased him, you know this, because now he has you where he wants you, just as he planned.
“More than the tip,” you purr, accepting the inevitable. “All of it.”
Without warning, he snaps his hips into you, fucking you without mercy. His strokes are long, deep, the kind that fill you up with joy and leave you with tears in your eyes. He pulls you closer, tasting your skin as your nails dig deeper into his back. Your walls spasm around him, loving every minute of the dick he is dropping off, for sure punishment for your teasing earlier.
“Fuck,” you rasp, feeling your peak reaching once more. “You feel so fucking good.”
You feel him grin against your neck, hitting you with a final stroke before lifting you and turning you over. He scurries to the baseboard, beckoning for him to come to him, wiggling his glistening cock. You crawl over to him happily, climbing over and sinking on him slowly, both groaning in unified satisfaction.
“Come here,” Seungcheol mutters, pulling you closer. “Give me your lips.”
His kiss is gratifying, your tongues interwining with another as you ride him, bouncing on his cock the way he likes it. Your pussy gushes as he fucks back, his fingers rubbing your clit vigorously like he owns it. Hit with a shock of pleasure that courses through your veins, you increase the pace and pull his hair, chasing your second orgasm. As if he read your mind, he pounds into you harder, taking your nipple and sucking on it fervently.
“Fuck, I’m close,” you whimper, everything turning white.”Don’t stop.”
“Never, baby,” he grunts. “Give it to me.”
It comes sharp and quick, your legs shuddering and your moans throaty and wet. You cling to Seungcheol as he talks you through it, whispering songs of praise and peppering you with kisses. His thrusts become rigid, signaling his own release as he lets out a loud guttural moan, your walls still pulsating as he empties himself into you. Relishing in each other, you still, your hearts beating as one, as he caresses your back. Love can’t describe what you feel.
“Are you still going to go in?” Seungcheol asks, drawing lines along your back. “Stay home and make it a 3-day weekend.”
Chuckling in the crook of his neck, you gaze at him, kissing him softly. “This was all a part of your plan, huh? Fuck me good and leave me too tired to move?”
Seungcheol peals into laughter, caressing your cheek. “And if it was?”
You lock eyes with him, a knowing look on your face as you lift off him slowly. “Do you remember the last time you begged for ‘just the tip?’” You point at the nightstand, your finger directed at a shiny baby monitor on display next to your wedding portrait.
“So?” Seungcheol shrugs with a smug look. “We can always have another.”
You shake your head with laughter, making your escape before you give him any ideas. A baby’s cry is heard through the monitor, and your heart pangs with guilt. The sunlight shines through the blinds, casting a soft glow that promises a peaceful day. You silently laugh, your shoulders shaking heavily as it dawns on you that at the end, Seungcheol is going to get what he wants.
💋Who: Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x female reader
💋What: Friends to Lovers. Smut (18+). Fluff. They are in LOVE okay. Some Humour. Birthday boy Gyu 🎂
💋Word count: 9.8k
💋Warnings: Profanity. A single solitary thigh spank. Oral (female receiving). Gyu gets a little possessive over reader for a second, but it's more amusing than anything. Fingering. PIV sex. Protected sex, and a discussion about birth control beforehand. Quick mention of leaving scratches on his back. Some cockwarming. Just very wholesome stuff really, even the smut.
💋Summary:
The intention is to sneak into Mingyu's apartment, set up banners and balloons ready for when he wakes, cook him a meal like he's been asking you for ages, and then give him his birthday gift. You don't really have a plan for what happens after that; you assume you'll just hang out.
You really don't expect a love confession and to end up in his bed.
Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio, or for any of the reasons listed in this post, including blank blogs and blogs without any fics reblogged.
Masterlist
A/N- This was originally on my old account @/whipped-for-kpop-fics, but I’ve decided to private a lot of stuff on that account and just move it over to here after some editing, where I can actually track it all properly.
- Originally written for Mingyu's 2024 birthday.
Honestly, it's a little worrying just how easy it is to sneak around the apartment without detection.
You have known that Mingyu is a heavy sleeper for quite a while now, but it still concerns you that you manage to enter his room, tidy the little mess, set up decorations, then leave the room, all while he sleeps obliviously in his bed with his mouth wide open in a sign of good sleep.
Still, it makes everything all that much easier.
“Oh my god, Wonwoo!” The thrilled gasp, edged with a just-awake roughness, alerts you to the fact that Mingyu has finally woken and spotted the decorations in his room. A few seconds later, he’s stumbling through the apartment in search of his flatmate yet instead finds you in the kitchen. “Oh, you're not Wonwoo,” he mutters dumbly with eyes wide. Yours are too, but mostly because he’s wearing rather skimpy little, black boxers and nothing else.
“I'm not,” you confirm, staring without blinking at the extensive beautiful skin exposed to your eyes. Not that you’ve never seen Mingyu topless before, or even in shorts, but this is something else entirely. Something that you have only dreamed of until now.
Suddenly, Mingyu realises what he’s wearing, or more specifically what he isn't wearing, and squeaks as his hands dart down to cover his crotch before he rushes off with an embarrassed blush burning up his neck and cheeks.
When Mingyu returns ten minutes later, he’s freshly showered and fully dressed, much to your disappointment. But at least he isn't just in sweatpants and a hoodie like you had expected. He's pulled on his nicest jeans and a crisp, plain black t-shirt that clings to his torso, and is perhaps more devastating than seeing him bare. At least when he was bare it was less like being teased with something just out of sight. Either way, he’s out of reach in every way.
The outfit choice makes you tilt your head a little in puzzlement. “You put on your date outfit,” you comment, knowing that the jeans and t-shirt combo is a very common choice for Mingyu when he's going on a casual date with someone.
“You look nice, I thought I should too,” is his simple response as he shrugs and walks over to put his arms around your waist from behind and finally greet you as you usually greet one another; with a hug that is perhaps a little too lingering for the nothing-more-than-friends status you both claim to have.
Which is true, nothing has ever happened between you two that passes platonic. It's just the fact that you want it to, and if your mutual friends can be trusted, so does Mingyu.
“You said you like this dress,” you inform while turning back to the food that you’re working on. “And regularly complain that I never make an effort when I hang out with you. Seeing as it's a special occasion, I figured I should grant your wish, birthday boy,” you tease, and feel him grin happily against your neck where he’s still tucked down into like he favours. It always amazes you how such a giant man will shrink down for extended periods just to give affection to those he cares about. “Go sit at the table, this'll be ready soon. Your breakfast, my lunch,” you muse, pointing out that it is already almost 1 pm, but you had honestly expected as much. Mingyu is notorious amongst your friends for sleeping into the afternoon on days when he doesn't have to get up. And he always takes his birthday off to allow that luxury.
“Ah, you’ve finally agreed to cook for me,” he coos, and squeezes you happily before letting his arms unwind, hands sliding over your waist in a way that has you suppressing a shiver. Either he doesn't notice your little shaky inhale or simply chooses to ignore it as he relocates over to the dining table.
“I asked what you wanted for your birthday; you said you wanted me to cook for you,” you remind and glance over as he gasps and picks up the little ribbon-wrapped box on the tabletop while he sits down.
“Is this for me too?” He looks over at you with big eyes full of innocent excitement. He's so fucking cute that it is honestly a giant problem for your ability to keep a level heartbeat.
“Mm, of course, do you see another Mingyu here?” You raise an eyebrow, and then he notices the tag with his name on and giggles embarrassedly. “Happy birthday, Gyu.”
“Thank you,” he breathes out, looking at you fondly for a few long seconds, and then turns down to the box. “Can I open it now?”
“Whenever you want, it's yours,” you confirm simply while turning off the heat to dish up the food onto two plates.
“Ah, after food,” he decides and puts down the box to jump up with every intention of helping you; though you tut disapprovingly, causing him to lower back to his seat like a scolded puppy.
“It's your birthday, let me dote on you.”
“You dote on me anyway.” He pouts slightly as you carry the plates over to put on the already cutely laid table, which includes a little vase with fresh flowers in it. Mingyu has obviously noticed them and knows they're from you, Wonwoo wouldn't buy flowers for their apartment after all, but Mingyu does not have the mental capacity to point them out. It's too much for his poor, smitten heart to handle after waking up to birthday balloons and banners and then seeing you looking so beautiful cooking in his kitchen domestically. If he's forced to voice anything in regard to the appearance of his favourite flowers, he’s pretty sure he'll do something stupid like confess his undying love for you and ask you to never leave.
“Yes, and you do it too, but today is about you, birthday boy,” you retort and make a move to sit down. Mingyu is on his feet before your ass even touches the chair, just so that he can tuck you in like he always does. You let him have this one and just roll your eyes at his inability to not take care of you, even on a day entirely about him.
Soon, Mingyu is making happy sounds in his seat on your adjacent left as he thoroughly enjoys every mouthful of food. As much as Mingyu is a foodie and savours his food in general, he still tends to practically inhale whatever is in front of him when he hasn't eaten in a while, but he is genuinely taking his time to absorb every flavour and texture of this meal. It makes your heart flutter to see the genuine appreciation he has for what you cooked for him.
It occurs to you as you take a photo of him enjoying his food to send to the group chat, that the scene very much looks like a date. Your friends all know what Mingyu tends to wear for dates and if they know your own outfit of the day, which Wonwoo at least does from letting you into the apartment on his way out as planned, then they will also know that it's one of your own date looks.
You stare at your screen for a second, then lock the device as you decide against sending them anything despite having agreed to send update pictures. You’ve already sent photos of the decorations in Mingyu's room though, so that will be enough, right?
You know that it most certainly is not enough where your nosey friends are concerned. Still, ignorance is bliss.
For the first time perhaps ever, you finish eating before Mingyu, so just sit back and watch him contently. He knows that you're watching him and keeps grinning closed-lipped at you, not at all bothered by your attention.
He isn't a hypocrite; he’s watched you eat his own cooking in such a way many times before and will continue to do so. Mingyu knows exactly how wonderful it feels to witness anybody enjoying your own cooking, especially those you care about. And Mingyu knows that you care about him an awful lot. He’s just kind of in denial that the care had long ago stretched way past platonic territory.
As soon as Mingyu puts his cutlery down on his empty plate, you jump up to take the dishes away making him whine. “I was about to do that!” he complains while pouting at you with his left hand wrapped around his glass of water, which he had barely managed to touch before you darted away with the dirty dishes and distracted him from his drink.
“No, you weren't, birthday boy,” you sing-song, already rinsing off the dishes to put in the dishwasher ready for later in the day when it will be full enough to warrant being turned on.
“Are you really going to do everything for me today?”
“Yep, whatever you want, I'm at your disposal, Gyu.”
“Whatever I want?” he mumbles, more to himself than you, which is good because you don't hear his voice over the gentle clatter of dishes being placed into the dishwasher.
All he can think about is getting the one thing he’s wanted almost since the very day he first laid his eyes on you. Your lips. Your hands. Your body. You in your entirety. You by his side always so that he doesn't have to face the ache of watching you walk away ever again. But he can't ask for that, not even on his birthday.
After washing your hands, you return to your place at the table and lean onto your elbows on the tabletop. You don't notice the way the position accentuates your cleavage, but Mingyu certainly does. It takes everything in him to not look down at your chest.
“Are you going to open your gift now?” you prompt, nodding towards the little box.
“Oh, yeah!” He perks up and reaches out for it. “Though you really didn't have to get me anything, you already cooked for me and that's the best gift I've ever received.”
“Don't be ridiculous, Gyu, it was just a meal. Not even a particularly exciting one either, you regularly cook much more extravagant meals for me.” You pout a little, feeling guilty about the meal you made for him.
You spent weeks trying to come up with something special to cook for him. You even made a secret group chat with some of your friend group, who you thought would be helpful and not just ignore the chat, to send recipes and ask opinions. It had actually been Seokmin in the end who had not quite snapped but got fed up with your consistent worries over the planned meal and told you that Mingyu wouldn't give a single fuck what you cooked, he just cared that you cooked it. Seeing Seokmin speak up like that made you finally listen to the reason the entire chat had been trying to talk into you, so you stopped looking for something fancy and just cooked something you’re confident in already.
Still, you wish you did more. Something more deserving of Kim Mingyu.
“It's not about that,” Mingyu insists, looking at you earnestly. “It's about the act itself; cooking something for me no matter what it is, shows you care. That's what I care about, not the meal itself. Though it was delicious and I really hope you cook it for me again.” His smile turns cheeky by the end, making you let out a soft laugh.
“Mm, just say when,” you agree, smiling when his whole face lights up. You playfully scrunch your nose at him. He returns it without hesitation.
A moment passes between you, not a new moment, but one you have both felt many times. A moment with something meaningful floating in the air between you. But as per usual, neither of you are brave enough to reach out and capture it.
At the same time, you both look down at the box still in his hands to redirect your attention to something that doesn't feel quite so big in your chests.
Carefully, Mingyu pulls on the ribbon to untie the bow that you had spent a good half an hour trying to perfect that morning, so that he can then pluck the lid free. After moving the tissue paper aside, Mingyu's eyes land on the jewellery within. His expression melts along with his posture. With a cautious hand, he reaches out to touch one of the silver chains.
“I hope they're what you wanted. You were very vague when you said matching bracelets. I don't know who you intend to wear them with, but I hope you both like them. And that the design isn't entirely opposite to your intention.” You worry a little at the end, your own gaze settling on the little double hearts on each somewhat dainty chain.
Jeonghan had given you a look as if you were crazy when you had shown them to him last week; he insisted that Mingyu would break the chain within the first day of wearing it. But you know they are much more resilient than they look, after extensive testing on them both. You’re confident that even Mingyu's accident-prone self won't destroy the chains, yet even if he does, you'll just buy him more. Any many as he wants. So long as he's happy, you'll buy him anything his heart desires.
“I just know you like love heart designs and everything else didn't really suit you in my mind,” you explain.
“They're beautiful,” he breathes out, then scoots closer to you and holds his left arm out over the tabletop. “Put it on me, please?”
“Sure,” you agree, even if you're confused about why he isn't waiting until he gives the matching one to whoever his intended recipient is. Still, you pluck one of the bracelets from its secure seat in the box to wind it around his wrist and clasp it in place. Your fingers trace over the chain and his skin for a second before you start to pull back. But Mingyu quickly, though gently, grasps your right hand to tug it closer to him. “Gyu,” you murmur with widened eyes when he pulls the remaining chain from the box. “Gyu, I didn't buy it with this intention,” you explain rapidly, worried that he thinks that you expect him to give the other to you purely because you had purchased the matching pair.
“I asked for it with this intention,” he admits, eyes focused on the chain he ties around your wrist. “Why do you think I asked you to get me matching bracelets if not to share with you?”
“I don't know. I've bought you stuff to match with the guys before.”
“Mm, true,” he agrees and looks up at you, though his fingers remain on your wrist tenderly. “But I wanted these for us. Something I can wear every day and have a reminder of you; so that I can look down and feel better because I'll be thinking of you.”
“Gyu...” you murmur in a breathless exhale.
His words hold far more weight than anything the pair of you dare to utter to one another; like he has finally reached out and caught onto that thing between you, and now he’s offering you the chance to reach back out. But you don't know what to say, how to reach out without risking the weight of his words not being what you hope.
He stares at you for a moment, lip between his teeth as he chews on it a little with nerves filling his chest. He's already said it; there no going back now. So, he decides that if he can't go back, he should keep going forward and take that leap that he truly hopes with everything in him will end in your open arms.
“You said whatever I want, right?” he recalls. It takes you a second to understand what exactly he means, but then you nod. “Well, I have something that I've wanted for a really long time, something only you can give me. But I don't want you to give it to me just because I asked and it's my birthday. Okay?”
“Uh, okay?” you reply, confused yet very hopeful that whatever his request is, it will be enough that if you reach out, your hand will find his own doing the same. “What is it?”
“Will you kiss me?” Your eyebrows lift in surprise as your heart races in your chest. “And not...not just because kissing is nice and you haven't kissed anyone in a while so you're happy to kiss for that reason.” You don't even care that he’s bluntly mentioned your lack of any kind of action in the past months, you’re more interested in where he’s going with this. “But because you want to kiss me, and not because I'm one of your closest friends, or just for a sexual thing, but because you like me and want me the way that I want you.”
Your voice is barely a whisper when you respond. “And how do you want me?”
“By my side from now until forever as mine, and me as yours entirely.”
“Really?” your voice is choked and there are tears in your eyes from his sincere words.
Mingyu's own eyes look as if they are gathering tears too. Though his aren't wet just because of the rapidly growing cloud of something between you with his hands deep inside as he tries to direct it to your own touch. He's fucking petrified that he’s ruining everything between you, yet he hadn't been able to stop talking and let his truth flow free. He will never forgive himself if his honesty pushes you away; he'd rather have you as nothing more than a friend than not at all, so long as you're still such a big part of his life.
“Yeah, I-I'm kind of really in love with you,” He admits with a weak chuckle. He tries to lighten the mood with a smile but it's much too shaky to do the job.
Luckily though, you don't notice, you're already darting forward to lean over the table and kiss him, far too utterly overwhelmed by his confession and the swell of your heart to have the mentality to voice anything in response. You hope your lips against his will suffice until you have your full faculties back.
For a handful of seconds, Mingyu remains frozen solid in his seat, eyes wide on your own closed ones closer to his face than you’ve ever been before. He had hoped you'd react positively, but he hadn't dared to expect it. The hope itself had seemed like a dream. So, it takes him a few seconds to fully register that you’ve just fucking kissed him despite all he said. You two have such a solid mutual respect for one another that he knows that you will never play with his emotions in any way. It's that mental reminder that has him jerking back to reality. His hands fly up to cup your face as his eyes close and he finally kisses you back with a soft groan.
Considering that the kiss had been rather one-sided at its start, it isn't a sweet kiss by any means. It's passionate from the first second that his lips press back against yours; both of you are full of so much emotion for one another for so long that it's being released all at once.
You don’t intend to get carried away in the way Mingyu's tongue caresses your own, or how he regularly lets out little low sounds from the back of his throat to show how pleased he is with the way that your mouths move with this same pure need for one another, but you do.
Only when you find yourself on his lap, table edge pressing into your lower back and his erection grinding up between your spread legs, do you actually recall that you hadn't meant to do more than just kiss the man until you gain your mental clarity back. Not that you do gain your mental clarity back, but you've both pulled apart to desperately refill your lungs, even without stopping your hips moving against each other.
“Gyu,” you manage, holding his face firmly and looking into his heavy gaze. He licks his lips but doesn't respond verbally. He's at least staring at you intently enough that you know he will hear you even over the lust thick in his veins. “I'm in love with you too.”
All at once, Mingyu falls still and blinks at you in dumb surprise. He hadn't expected you to say as much; even if you do feel the same way, he thought your return confession would come later. You know, after he's fucked you until you can't walk without thinking of his cock every single step.
“You are?” he asks, not because he thinks you'd lie, but just because his blood is not circulating around his brain enough for him to have the ability to decipher if it's just a horny hallucination fuelled by his own love for you.
“Yeah, have been for a while.”
“Oh.” Another few empty blinks at you, before he beams and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. “I love you so, so, so, so, so much, sweetheart. You'll be mine, right?” He leans back to look at you with big eyes full of love and a hint of pleading.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” you agree, beaming right back at him with your arms around his neck. “For as long as you want me.”
“How does forever sound?” Mingyu offers with a cheeky smile.
You take a moment to just admire him, admire the man who owns your entire heart and soul. “I'm not sure it's long enough.” You will happily dedicate an eternity to loving Kim Mingyu but even then, you aren't sure that it's long enough in comparison to the devotion he deserves.
“But it's a start.”
“It's a start,” you agree with a single nod.
He smiles adoringly at you then lifts one hand from around you to cup your cheek tenderly and leads you into a kiss. This one isn't like the other, there's no lust in this, even if it still burns in your very blood, and clearly in his too based on the bulge still pressing against you. All the kiss contains is pure, unfiltered love, and you hope to have many more like it in your future together. You're positive that it’s going to be a long and happy future.
The longer the kiss goes on, the more the lust trickles back in. Soon enough, you're grinding against each other looking for friction and to feel one another closer.
“Baby,” Mingyu pants out, gripping your hips tight to force you to a stop. You pout at him, confused and rather offended. “There's something else I want. For my birthday.”
“If it's to fuck me, you have my very enthusiastic consent,” you reply immediately, and try to move back in to reunite your lips, but he holds you still, making you whine. “Gyu.”
“No, it's not. Well, I mean, I do want to fuck you, a lot, but that's not what's on my mind right now.”
You pointedly look down at the borderline obscene bulge in his jeans, then back up at him. He giggles a little, kind of shy and very out of place, but so fucking cute that you can't help but smile in return. “Okay, what do you want, birthday boy?” you coo, brushing your fingers through his hair.
“To eat you out.” You raise a surprised eyebrow at him. You thought he'd ask for a blow job if anything, not for him to go down on you. Not that you're against that at all. “Can I?”
“Mm, sure, baby, whatever you want,” you agree. He grins, then abruptly hoists you up onto the table, making you yelp in alarm at being manhandled out of the blue. Once again, not that you're against it at all.
“I've wanted to get my mouth on you for so long,” he admits breathlessly as he watches his hands smooth up your spread thighs in front of him. “Thought about how you'd taste, dreamed about it.” He slowly pushes the skirt of your dress up, and up, and up, until it's bunched at the crease between your thighs and hips.
You watch him stare at the seat of your panties for a moment, his fingers pressing into your thighs and mouth open. “For someone who's wanted this for so long, you're taking your time getting to it, baby,” you tease, tapping his chin, causing him to snap his mouth shut embarrassedly while flicking his eyes up to you.
“Shut up, I'm overwhelmed,” he mumbles, tilting his head towards your hand so that you cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes over his lips, so he presses a kiss to it without thought.
“Overwhelmed in a good way?”
“The best way,” Mingyu confirms, nodding in your hold. “I just found out that you love me, and now I get to touch and taste you. It's a lot. I'm not sure I've even absorbed that you love me yet.”
“Will it help if I say it again?” you tease, leaning down towards his face. He straightens as you lower, as if drawn to you without him even needing to consciously move his body. You’ve only just come together but already, it's so natural to you both.
“Only one way to find out.”
Instead of saying the words, you press your lips to his. You kiss him softly, slowly, in a way that makes his breath hitch, and his fingers tremble a little against your skin. With just a hint of sweetness. “I love you, Mingyu, more than I can put into words.”
“I can't either,” he agrees and brushes his nose against yours softly before pressing a flutter of a kiss to your cheek, and then another a little lower. “I'm not good with words-” another kiss below the last “-I never have been-” he continues to speak in between creating a trail of his lips over your jaw and down onto your neck, trying his utmost to carve a path of his love into your skin in hopes of it reaching your very centre and finding a home there. “-And I'll spend my whole fucking life trying to find them for you.” His lips are at your collarbones by now, with little flashes of his tongue to taste every inch of you he can. It sends your stomach both fluttering and burning. “But for now, let me try and show you instead.” He pulls his mouth from you to stand up and hover over you, with both of his hands finding your face to direct your gaze up into his own.
You nod a little in agreement. “Show me, Gyu,” you encourage in a whisper, before his lips are back on yours, tongue sliding into your mouth as he encourages you to lay back against the tabletop without once breaking the kiss.
And then, in true Mingyu fashion, once you are flat against the wood and he reaches up to prop himself up over you, he knocks over the vase of flowers. He shrieks and flails his arms out to try and catch them, but the vase topples over, spilling water out over the wood, and thanks to his failed correction, in your direction.
You just stare dumbly at him. It all happens so fast. One second, you're making out with your boyfriend and the next, you're soaked and not in the ideal area. Luckily, it actually isn't an awful lot of water but having it over half of your face and chest really is not enjoyable in any way.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry, baby,” Mingyu rushes out when he looks at you instead of the mess of stems and petals over the table amongst the water. “I didn't mean to get you wet!” You raise an eyebrow with a suggestive grin. Instantly, his worry goes and he laughs. “This is the wrong kind of wet,” he muses and plonks the vase down so that he can wrap his arms around you and pull you upright against his chest. “Will you be upset if I ignore the flowers you bought me to take you to bed and make you wet in the other way?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“I think I'd be more upset if you focused on the flowers.”
“Good.” Mingyu lowers just enough to get your thighs up around his waist and his hands under them securely before lifting. “Always wanted to pick you up,” he admits off-handedly as he traipses through the apartment.
“Why?”
“Because...you let Seungcheol do it that time, but no one else.” He pouts and you giggle, absently playing with the hair at his nape where your fingers lay comfortably. “Don't laugh at me,” he whines. The slap of his palm against the underside of your thigh isn't hard and doesn't hurt at all, but the point gets through. Even if it is entirely contradictory behaviour to his sulking.
“Yes sir,” You reply, a tease, but your voice is serious. The only sign of the playful response is in the way your eyes sparkle on him. He gives you an unimpressed look but quickly breaks and smiles.
Though seconds later, the smile turns into a smirk, and he tosses you onto his bed. “You look good in my bed.” He grins, eyes darkening as they roam you from where he stands at the side of the bed with his hands on his hips.
“Look better with you on top of me, come on.” You settle with your head on the soft pillows and spread your legs invitingly while pulling your skirt up higher.
Mingyu is between your thighs in seconds, chest flat to the mattress and face alarmingly close for the speed at which he moves. For a second, you really think that he's going to harshly collide with you. Although you have wanted Mingyu's mouth on for a long time, that would certainly not be how you fantasised.
“Oh my god, I thought you were going to faceplant my vagina for a second,” you admit with a relieved exhale. He snorts a laugh, then shuffles a little closer so that he can press a kiss at the crease of your inner right thigh over the edge of your panties.
There aren't any further words exchanged between you, just a moment of heated eye contact before Mingyu adjusts his position and pulls aside the seat of your panties to expose you to him. He takes a few seconds to burn this image of you all slick and bare for him in his mind; something for him to look back on when he misses you.
Because he knows he will. He missed you before he even had you, and now that he has you? Good luck ever going a day without him whining for you in some way.
You let him look even if it makes you blush and squirm a little, half shy, half aroused at the intensity of his burning gaze locked between your spread thighs. He isn't even holding your legs open, just resting his left hand on your inner thigh without any pressure while his right keeps your panties aside. If he was anyone else, your thighs would've closed already, but this is Mingyu, the man you hope to spend a lifetime with, so you figure you shouldn't be shy with him. He'll see it all eventually anyway.
Just before you can change your mind and try to encourage him either verbally or by reaching out and pulling him in, he leans down and licks a broad stripe over you, pulling your wetness onto his tongue and making you inhale sharply at the sudden, wet touch. He groans deeply and his eyes almost roll back as he sucks the flavour of you from his tongue to swallow down. And then he's back, diving right down with his left hand moving to use his thumb to hold you open and give him easier access to lap at the arousal trickling from your hole.
He doesn't really give you any chance to think, just grip the sheets below you with your mouth open and eyes shut while he devours you with more enthusiasm than you could've ever expected. If you didn't think it before, you certainly do now; Kim Mingyu is the personification of your wettest dreams. The way his tongue travels over your folds hungrily, lips joining to suck and kiss wherever his heart desires, is so fucking sinful in the best of ways. You think he may very well suck your soul out of your clit at this rate, and you'll thank him for it.
“Gyu,” you finally manage to make a sound beside the whimpers and moans he skilfully pulls from your throat in a way nobody has, not even yourself, and you truly thought you know your body through and through by this point. But boy were you wrong. And for the first time, you're very fucking happy to be proven incorrect.
Though apparently, calling his name out of the blue is not a smart move, because he immediately leans up to look at you with wide eyes of concern. “Yeah, baby? You okay?”
“Don't fucking stop!” you wail in complaint, reaching out to knot your fingers into his hair and force him back down. Though he's more than willing to get his mouth back on your dripping pussy and lowers easily under your hands with a pleased groan. “Don't stop,” you repeat in an exhale, watching him devour you as if it's his sole reason for existing. You wish you could watch him for longer, but your neck quickly starts to hurt from the awkward angle, so you flop back down and let your eyes close again.
Mingyu glances up at you for a second, then also closes his own eyes with a self-satisfied smirk. He’s imagined this so many times before; how you'd taste on his tongue, how you'd feel against his lips, but nothing he imagined can hold a candle to the haven he's discovered between your thighs. He knows he could happily spend all day with his head between your thighs and his tongue buried in your pussy. He wonders if you'd let him. Not right now, he thinks that would be too much for your first day together, but in the future for sure. Tomorrow? Yeah, he'll ask to do it tomorrow, you can both call in sick to work as far as he's concerned.
Honestly, Mingyu is too lost in his own actions to register the way your legs are pulling in either side of his head and your moans changing in pitch and frequency. He only notices when suddenly, he has a thigh pressed to either side of his head and you're pressing down against him with a call of his name. His eyes fly open to watch you arch off of the bed as your orgasm shocks through your body. He doesn't mean to groan lowly where his lips are wrapped around your clit, but he does, and the vibration is too much when you're barely through your climax, so you scramble to push his head away.
“Sorry, sorry,” he pants out, crawling up the bed to hover over you while you slump down, eyes closed and chest heaving. He lowers onto his elbows on either side of you to kiss your neck softly while he waits for you to catch your breath back. He isn't expecting anything more than this and will be happy if you want to just leave it here for today, but he's sure as shit hoping you'll let him put his cock in you, even for a moment.
At this point, he's sure it won't take more than just a moment or two for him to cum anyway, his dick is throbbing in his boxers, pressing against his jeans in a way that he's only now realising is actually a little painful.
The second your breath is back, you tug him up to lock your lips together. His are a little damp and sticky still, but you find you don't mind tasting yourself when it's on Mingyu's tongue.
You don't wait long at all before reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt to pull it up. He leans back to give you a questioning look, more to make sure you're certain than anything else. You continue to pull it up, so he manoeuvres to allow you to remove it from his body.
“You're insane, you know?” you murmur out awed as you take in his defined torso. For the first time, you can touch him to your heart's content, so you run your palms over his newly exposed skin, memorising the warmth, the dips, and ridges of him.
“What?” He laughs confusedly, looking between your bodies and taking in how your hands look against him, how your skin tone compliments his own perfectly. Like you were made to complement each other. For each other. As he looks up at you and observes the reverence on your beautiful features, he thinks perhaps you were. It's that thought that has him lowering back to your lips again before you can even answer his question. He has the sudden urge to love you in every way he possibly can. Not that he never does, but right now, it's less of the usual consistent buzz, and more like a heated thrumming right under the surface of his skin.
You let out a little surprised 'mmh' against his lips, yet don't hesitate to kiss him back. Your hands first lift to hold his face, but then they move back down, over his pecs and abs all the way to the waistband of his jeans, where you tuck your fingers underneath in a silent request. He groans a little and presses forward against your hand in wordless consent, so you quickly open the button and pull down the zipper, so that you can snake a hand underneath and palm at him over his boxers.
Mingyu immediately pulls out of the kiss with a hiss and a low curse. “Baby, I'll cum if you touch me,” he warns, locking pleading eyes on you. You can't quite tell what he's pleading for though. Not when his words say one thing and his hips rolling against your palm tells you another.
“Isn't that kind of the point?” you muse, lifting a teasing eyebrow.
“I don't want to.” He pouts. Without hesitation, you pull your hands away and hold them to yourself. “No, I didn't mean to stop,” he whines.
“What the fuck, Mingyu?” you complain, pinching his nipple, making him yelp and squirm away a little, but only for a second as he returns right back. Always drawn to you and unable to hide it anymore, he doesn't want to hide it anymore. Wants the world to know if at all possible.
“I mean I don't want to cum like “that,” he explains, soothing your displeasure with a few sweet kisses to your forehead and temple. “I really want to be inside you.”
“Oh.” Your expression swiftly shifts into understanding and then delight. “I really want you inside me too, Gyu.”
“Yeah?” It's kind of comical the way his eyes light up in pure excitement. It’s more like he’s been offered his favourite food, not to fuck you. Well, considering the enthusiasm with which he ate you out earlier though, you may very well be his new favourite thing to eat.
“Yeah, so get naked,” you confirm with a giggle that only grows when he scrambles off of the bed to shed his clothes. He stumbles multiple times in his haste and honestly, you're too fucking endeared and in love with this giant, clumsy idiot to do anything but sit and watch him with a stupid grin on your face.
He only notices that you haven’t done anything but sit upright when he turns to climb back on the bed entirely naked and spots you watching him. “You're not naked,” he comments, a fresh pout pursing his lips.
“I got distracted watching the man I'm in love with,” You explain smoothly. Mingyu's cheeks flush as he smiles at your words, his heart swelling with his own love in his chest. He's not sure he'll ever get used to hearing you admit to your love for him. He doesn't think he wants to get used to it.
He climbs up onto the bed further and reaches out to the hem of your skirt. You get up onto your knees in front of him and lift your arms. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before removing the dress from your body to toss it to the floor carelessly. Later he’ll worry about the creases in it from being on the floor, but right now he can't think about anything but you.
“You're so beautiful,” he exhales heavily as he roams his gaze over your bra and panty-clad body. You're glad you wore one of your nice matching sets today, you think he deserves to see your nice lingerie for your first time together at least.
“So're you.” You reach around your back to unlatch your bra. Mingyu's eyes widen in interest for a second, then he moves in and pulls the straps from your shoulders so that he can also discard that piece of clothing, leaving you in your damp, slightly stretched-out panties. “How do you want me?” you ask as you hook your thumbs in the waistband, but Mingyu bats your hands away gently so that he can have the honour of stripping you naked.
“On your back,” he murmurs as he works the material down your thighs.
“Don't want me to ride you?” You offer.
Mingyu’s eyes snap up to you and he goes very quiet and still for a few seconds as the mental image of you bouncing on his cock assaults his mind. And then he's shaking it away with a physical shake of his head and nudging you down to your earlier position on your back, so that he can remove the last item keeping you from being as bare as him. “Not right now, I'll cum too fast,” he admits, settling between your thighs on his knees and just looking at you with his hands on your inner thighs just above your knees. “Might cum too fast anyway,” he confesses in a mumble, making you choke out a laugh at his abrupt confession. “Will you break up with me if I cum as soon as I feel your pussy on my cock?” he asks, looking genuinely worried at the thought and like he seriously wants an answer.
So, you take a breath so that you don't laugh again and shake your head a little. “No, Gyu, I won't break up with you if that happens.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” you assure, squeezing his hands a little. His left moves up to grab yours in return and lace your fingers together on your thigh.
“Okay.” He relaxes as he accepts your words as truth then looks down to focus on his right hand as it moves from your thigh and to between your legs. “I should've stretched you earlier when I had my mouth on you,” he realises, prodding at your entrance with his lips slightly protruding in concentration and a little regret at his lack of forethought destroying his plans of sliding into your pussy any second.
“Do you want me to do it?” you offer. Two of his fingers slide into you in answer, making your breath catch, but then you laugh a little at his reaction.
“No, nobody touches this pussy except me,” he argues firmly, already working to move his fingers within you, in and out, while scissoring them with his only goal to stretch you enough to comfortably fit his thick cock inside.
“I-I can't even t-touch my own body now?” you ask amused, but his fingers in you feel too good for you to actually put any emotion into your voice. You vaguely hope he doesn't take it the wrong way and does understand that you're trying to joke with him, but mostly you don't care how he takes it so long as he keeps stretching you out in that way.
It's a rushed job, you know that; you can tell that he obviously only wants one thing right now and this isn't for giving you any pleasure, but it still is. Maybe it's the way he's being a little rough about it without actually being rough; he's giving you the chance to adjust to his fingers, but he's already adding a third and jabbing them into you sooner than you would yourself.
“Not like this,” Mingyu answers, eyes still on his task between your thighs, though now he's seeing the way you're leaking even more, and he's sort of clicking back into the fact that he should consciously be making this good for you. Though the slick sounds mixed with your laboured breathing and intermittent soft moans tell him that he doesn't really need to try to make this good for you. But next time, next time he'll make you cum until the sheets are soaked down to the mattress before he puts his cock in you. “Are you on birth control?” the question feels entirely out of the blue so you can't be blamed for not answering and just blinking at him for a second. He slows his hand to a stop and lifts his head when you don't answer. “I really want to cum in you,” he explains.
“Oh, uh, no. I kept forgetting to take it,” you answer and feel genuinely bad when his expression falls. He looks kind of heartbroken. “I plan to get something else soon though, so in the future, you can.”
“Okay.” He smiles agreeably then removes his fingers from you to reach over to his bedside table, open it and rummage inside to find a condom.
“You'd have more luck if you let go of my hand,” you muse, watching him struggle to open the foil packet with one hand, the corner of it carefully held between his front teeth.
“No,” he refuses though closed teeth. There's a victorious sound from him when the foil rips open. He spits out the ripped piece of the packet to the side, and you watch the corner flutter away, knowing he’ll be annoyed at himself for littering his floor later. “Uhm,” his lost mutter draws your attention back to him. He's kneeling there, the tip of the condom pinched between his fingers as he stares between it and his erection. Clearly, he did not think this through.
You huff a soft almost silent laugh before you sit up and move his hand to his dick so that he can hold the condom and allow you to roll it down his length. He bites his lip and tries to not let your touch get to him.
“Teamwork,” Mingyu giggles when you lean back and look up at him. “We make a good team, right, baby?”
“Mm, the best,” you confirm, tugging him down by the back of his neck to connect your lips.
Mingyu's free hand brushes appreciatively over your arm before he starts to lean forward, urging you back slowly until you're against the mattress and he's over you with his right arm holding him up, his left hand still locked with yours, but now it's by your side.
You can feel his erection against you, the latex sliding against your thigh until you lift your legs to nudge him over a little by his hips. He presses down, gliding his cock over your folds and catching on your clit. He can't really get the position right like this though, not to slide into you.
Mingyu lifts your connected hands up to the pillow beside your head so that he can move his weight over to his left elbow and get his right hand between your bodies. He grasps his erection loosely, just enough of a grip to line himself up with your dripping hole. “Ready?” he breathes out after leaning up enough to look down into your eyes. You nod without hesitation, so he pushes in. He's only an inch into you and he's already convinced that your pussy is the greatest pussy that has ever or shall ever exist.
As Mingyu gradually feeds his thick length into you, you have the honour of watching his face contort beautifully in pained pleasure. He's trembling and his gaze is unfocused, even as he stares back down at you with his mouth dropped open wide without a single sound coming out. You're not even sure he's breathing, and honestly, you're not sure you are either.
The stretch of his cock against your walls is utterly mind-numbing. You've had your fair share of sexual partners in the past, and plenty of sex toys to keep yourself happy otherwise, but nothing, absolutely nothing has ever felt the way Mingyu feels tucked up snug inside of you. You're not sure if it's because his cock is just that good, big in all the right ways without being too big, or if it's just that you're in so fucking deep with this man that anything he does feels ridiculously good. You're leaning towards the latter, though you’re pretty certain that he has the most perfect cock to have ever graced this earth, if not the universe.
When Mingyu's hips finally press up against you, signalling that he is fully sheathed within you, you're half certain that you can feel him in your stomach and absently press down with your left hand just to test that theory. You can't feel him, but you can imagine it all the same and wrap your arm back around his neck loosely.
“You okay?” you whisper when he remains that way, eyes still unfocused on your face and both hands on either side of your head, where his right is gripping the pillow with everything in him.
“No,” he chokes out, finally blinking alert. “Feel so good,” he slurs. “Don't wanna cum yet, wanna stay in you forever.”
“You don't have to pull out right away.” You soothe your hand over the back of his neck, fingers digging into the muscles a little in an attempt to calm your overwhelmed boyfriend. “And I don't have any plans today, so we can spend as long as you want in bed, and you can fuck me again later when you're ready.”
“Really?” He perks up a little. “N-no plans?”
“No, baby; I wanted to be available for whatever you want to do today. Granted, I thought it might be a drive or trip somewhere, not sex.”
“Would you rather the trip?” he teases with a little smirk as he slowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock along your walls that try to keep him in place. His smirk wavers.
“No. Fuck me,” you reply firmly, knowing that he really can't hold out anymore. You really don't want him to either. He nods and thrusts back into you.
You expect him to move fast and frantic; to chase the pleasure he has been dancing along the precipice of for a while now. Yet Mingyu fucks you slowly, rolling his hips deep into you, and then all the way out until his tip is barely in you, before sliding back in. He fucks you like he's got something to prove. It reminds you of his earlier words, that he wants to show you what he doesn't yet have the words to say.
“I love you,” you blurt, suddenly overcome with the urge to say it.
Mingyu stills for a second, then surges down to kiss you passionately, spilling his response into your mouth wordlessly as his hips return to work. Now though, he barely pulls out before fucking back into you. It's more of a grind than anything, his body pressed close enough that his pubic bone is applying pressure to your clit in a way that is shattering you from your mind to your lower stomach.
Very quickly, the pleasure is too much for either of you to make your lips work further, so Mingyu leans up, propping himself up on his right elbow on the pillow, his fingers threading into your hair to hold you as his body continues to make your body burn brighter with every passing second.
His forehead presses to yours for a few seconds before he lifts his head and looks to his left. You look over too, wondering what could possibly be drawing his attention right now when he's fucking you like no one ever has before.
At first, you don't understand at all, all you can see in his line of sight is your hands. Which is nice, sure; the sight of your fingers locked together as he shows you how much he loves you with his cock buried deep within you and grinding against more sensitive spots than you ever knew you had before, though you don't understand his laser focus.
But then, you find the matching silver chains on your wrists, the hearts almost pressed together with the angle you’re holding each other, and you understand.
Those bracelets were always supposed to be a sign of love for him, even if you didn't know it. He had asked you to pick out bracelets for you to wear together so that he can always have a piece of you with him, and you a piece of him. You’ve exchanged hearts metaphorically, and quite literally now with the physical representations tied securely around your wrists.
Something about that very thought sends you tumbling into an intense orgasm without you realising it's going to happen until the blinding pleasure is washing over you. Your hands both grip Mingyu, one in his hand and the other around his back and drawing red lines into his shoulder blade. You're not even aware of it, of how you call his name and clamp down around his cock as you gush over it, promptly sending him spiralling into his own mind-numbing orgasm.
It's minutes before either of you return back to earth.
You're back first, blinking away the tears that you hadn't realised formed until now. Mingyu is pressing up against your chest with his head on your shoulder; the only movement of his body is the rise and fall of his back as his breathing starts to even out.
It hits you that you missed his orgasm; you’ve always wanted to know what he looks like during such intense pleasure, but you missed it thanks to your own. You frown a little, though a quick glance at your still connected hands reminds you that you are his and he is yours, therefore, this will not be your only chance to see his handsome features contort with pleasure.
“I love you, but I also love breathing,” you point out after a few minutes of tracing patterns on his back with your left hand. At first, his weight on you hadn't been too much, but it seems that your gentle trails on his sweat-sticky skin have made him relax a little too much and let his muscle-thick frame lay heavier on you.
“Mmm, can we still cuddle?” he requests, making no attempt to get up, though he does do his best to lean more onto his right elbow again, even without lifting up from your shoulder.
“Of course.” Though he still doesn't get off of you. “Are you going to move, Gyu?”
“But then I won't be in you.” You can hear the pout in his slightly muffled voice, even if you can't see it. “You're all warm, s'nice.”
“So, you'd rather cockwarm than let me breathe easily?”
He hesitates, then giggles when you tug on his ear with an offended gasp. “I'm joking, I'm joking!” He leans up entirely onto his elbow, freeing your torso from him. “I will always pick your health.”
“I should hope so.” He scrunches his nose at you playfully. You return it without hesitation.
Although he hadn't wanted to get up initially, Mingyu goes to the effort once off of you to go all the way to the bathroom once he has disposed of the soiled condom, where he fetches a warm damp cloth and a dry towel to clean you up first, then himself. You expect him to return to your side, but he saunters off again, allowing you to once again marvel at his exposed ass as he walks away, and returns with a couple of water bottles and an armful of snacks.
The water makes sense, you think, but the mass of snack packets is a little questioning, so you raise an eyebrow at him while you shuffle to sit up against the headboard and accept one of the bottles.
“What?” he innocently replies, putting the other bottle down on the side table to free his hand and allow him to set up the various snacks there too. “You said we can spend as long as I want in bed, I just want to be prepared, sweetheart.”
And well, you can't really argue with that, nor his cheeky, endearing smile, so you just laugh softly and hand over the open bottle to let him swallow down some of the cool liquid himself before he climbs up onto the bed and wraps his arms around your body to hold you in the way you’ve both wanted for so long.
Later, when you both have your energy back and Mingyu is no longer constantly on the verge of cumming too soon, he presses you back down against his bed all over again, so that he can see every expression on your face as he takes you apart piece by piece, just to see how you work at your very core. He learns all of your curves and edges so attentively and allows you to learn his in return.
By the time you're once again laid side by side much later, tucked up in each other's arms tired yet sated, you're certain that somewhere along the way, your pieces got mixed up and Mingyu found himself a permanent home in your chest. He’s taken a piece of you for his own and given you a matching piece of him in return.
You can't see it, but it feels an awful lot like his heart.
Silently, with nothing more than a soft kiss on his shoulder, you vow to him that you will spend your life protecting it with everything in you. And you're confident that he will do the same with yours as his lips press to your head in return.
Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖
TILL DEATH IS NOT LONG ENOUGH . . . one - shot (18+)
pairing : gomez!san x morticia!f!reader
genre : addams family au, smut, established relationship
word count : 1.2k
warnings : unprotected sex, morning sex, cunninglingus, being woken up with sex (but its consensual in case you're wondering), püssy talk, püssydrunk!san, both san and yn are devoted to each other
note : surprise!! this is a late birthday present for my lovely braincell @sanjoongie who brought up gomez!san and i wanted to do this for her 🖤 i hope you enjoy braincell and you don't mind me doing this for you 🖤 also the fence border credits to @/enchanthings!! sorry i'm a little rusty on the writing 😖
you and san are shameless when it comes to each other. from the moment you wake up san makes sure you know how devoted he is to you.
the storm that had been raging on since last night had, unfortunately, subsided by the time you woke up the next morning. it was truly tragic to wake up without the sound of vicious thundering and rain hitting the windows, but oh what are you supposed to do?
well, at least you didn't wake up with two disappointments. your eyes fluttered open, sheets pulled aside and you glanced down to see san, your disturbingly handsome husband, in between your legs. his dark eyes already looking at you as his tongue runs between your folds. you let out a moan as you feed your fingers through his black strands and you make sure to tug a little on them.
san moans in response and it sends a vibration straight through your core as he goes to suck on your clit. his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he pulls them further apart to the point of where they rest on his board shoulders.
you let out a soft laugh, "you devil, walking me up in the most sinful way."
"it is not sinful if you are my whole reason. i am devoted and wish to worship you," san replies back before he's diving back between your thighs. head moving from side to side as he begins to get lost in the taste of you. "she was calling out and gushing for me so badly, how could i possibly resist her."
ah, there he goes, talking about your pussy like it's a person. treating your pussy like a proper lady.
"would you think you're married and devoted to my cunt more than me, mister," you tease, knowing it will rile him up.
"not true, i'm only making sure every part of you is taken care of, and that includes this beautiful cunt. you could poison me with her taste and i would die the happiest man," he says, before goes back down to make-out with your lower lips. your juices spreading all over his lips and chin.
he looked like a ravaged mess and you adored it.
"mm, san," you moan out, pulling on his hair once more before you try to pull his whole body up towards you. san understands what you are doing and you can tell he reluctantly pulls away with a parting kiss before his body is hovering over yours.
you pull him down, his lips touching yours and he kisses you like its the only thing he knows how to do. san is passionate when he kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth and you taste yourself on his tongue. his hands begin to roam over your body, having it memorized since the first time he touched you many, many moons ago. he would rather die than forget what your body feels like against his.
"my goddess, you are so perfect, i just can't help myself," he says when he pulls away from your lips.
"my wicked love, then don't hold back. show me how much you are devoted to me," you tell him, a sly smile gracing your lips that leaves him groaning as he's positioning his body more.
you run your hands down his board chest as his hands grip your thighs to spread them, so he could fit between them. his cock was already hard and straining against his abdomen, the tip an angry red as it began to slowly leak. he took his cock with one hand, letting the tip run through your folds. his tip kissing your clit as his pre-cum smear and mixes with your juices from earlier.
you let out a low moan, "don't tease, my love."
san barks out a laugh, head tilted back and he looked like some greek god as the dim lights of the chandelier above shined down on him. breathtaking. "sorry, sometimes i can't help but tease you. i love seeing you a little pouty."
he then slowly began to enter you, pushing his cock past your folds and inside you – almost bullying his cock into your pussy. when he got halfway in, he leaned back over you, his hands gripping your thighs as he threw your legs over his shoulders. "s-so good, feels sooooo good," he mumbles to himself once he's fully inside you.
"like every time i'm inside you, you were made to destroy me."
he starts to thrusts, his cock moving in and out, in and out between your warm walls. you watch his eyes roll back slightly, a deep groan leaving his throat as you squeeze around him every time he sheathes himself fully inside you.
"o-oh fuck, you feel too good... too perfect."
your arms wrap around his neck, one hand trailing down his back and leaving marks as his hips continue to snap into yours. his lips trailed down your skin as he whispered every sin he could think of. and every word lit a fire in your blood and made you crave for more.
his name was like a curse on your lips. your name was a prayer on his.
he continued to thrusts, a little more slower now as if he's trying to savor the feeling of you around him. you could tell he was growing closer to the edge as he managed to maneuver and reposition one of your legs to wrap around his waist. the new angle makes you moan as his cock hits your sweet spot at a new angle.
"my love, you're close~"
"of c-course i am, how could i not when you feel this a-amazing," he replies back, head falling into the crook of your neck. you feel his lips pressing open mouth kisses, tongue trailing over your skin. "taste so divine."
when you finally reach your orgasm, you let out a loud, drawn-out moan as you cling to san. san isn't far behind you, stilling inside you as he pumps you full of his cum. he moans into your skin before he's lifting his head and kissing you. lips slowly molding against yours as your hand runs through his hair and playing with the ends of his black strands.
you both felt ruined, like nothing else in this world mattered more than being together like this in such an intimate way. the world could fall apart and burn to the ground and you would still cling to him despite the wreckage and ash around you. he's all you needed, if you didn't have him then nothing else mattered. you were as devoted to him as he was to you.
san rolled off you, laying next to you and chest still heaving as he looked at you with a lazy grin. you turned your head to kiss his cheek, hand coming to rest gently on his chest.
"the storm might have stopped outside, but you sure caused one inside, my devil," you say and san tilted his head towards the ceiling as he laughed, pulling you to him so you could rest your head on his chest.
"you remind me every day why i'm glad i said i do," he says, "till death do us part~"
you hover just enough to press your lips to his, "till death is not long enough for us, my dear~"
SMUT TAGS: dom!Hongjoong, sub!Reader, sadistic!Hongjoong, slightly bratty!Reader, oral (m. receiving), manhandling, heavy verbal degradation, slight blood play, rough PIV sex, making out
WARNINGS: age gap (Reader is technically older, but her eternal age is considerably below Hongjoong’s), minor injury
SUMMARY: You go to him when you're hungry for his blood. He satiates you in more way than one.
A/N: @lillys-bakery HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE
You stood in front of the mirror and stared at your reflection for one last time.
Looking well put-together was something you thought you had mastered over the past hundred years. Yet, tonight, you were hyperaware of the slightly uneven line of your lipstick, of how your eyelashes didn’t curl in a perfect symmetry, of the fact your hair already lost a bit of their volume. These were the smallest details that you learned to pick up on, and that nobody else would be aware of. They bothered you. You knew that, in the end, they didn’t matter. But you spent a few extra minutes trying to put yourself in a better shape, although the way you worked around these last rough edges was more out of nervousness about what was awaiting you tonight.
He always made you nervous. Not in a way that would make you want to resign – never, you were drawn to him like a moth to fire, not just to the scent of his blood, but to him as a whole. His personality. His aura.
To the way that being alone in the room with you, an immortal being, Kim Hongjoong seemed to be the ethereal one.
You swayed nervously as you waited in front of his apartment’s door. Last moments of peace. If only your heart was still beating, it would try to leap out of your chest. But you were nervous nonetheless, so much that you ran your hands up and down your arms to try and soothe yourself.
Although you spent the last few hours getting ready, you didn’t feel prepared for the moment the door clicked and swung open, Hongjoong’ eyes falling on you and a charming smile stretching across his face.
“I’m glad you made it.”
You did your best to return the smile.
“Come in. I’m finishing a drink but I will be all yours shortly.”
The large apartment was filled with shiny, black surfaces, white marble and golden accents that brought everything together. Not many personal items were on display in the large living room connected to the kitchenette, but it was very much a show-off with how clean, shiny and luxurious it looked. However, after having been here more times than you could count, you knew that other rooms were in no way worse.
There was a glass of water on the kitchenette counter that Hongjoong reached out to while you took off your coat and hung it by the entry. You watched as his throat bobbed with every sip, and smiled at the memory of teaching him to stay well hydrated before and after your encounters – he wasn’t so eager to listen to you at first, but he eventually gave in, making sure you saw him finish at least a full glass before the two of you would even sit together, just so you wouldn’t have to nag him about it.
You made your way to the black velvet couch that stood in the center of the living room, opposite of the large TV that was turned off for the time being.
Hongjoong soon joined you and sat down, one arm thrown over the back of the couch, right behind you, and stretched his neck with a groan. Your own movements were more timid as you sat closer to the edge, folding your hands in your lap. But you didn’t omit the way he tilted his head while stretching, the scent of his body breaking through the musky aroma of his cologne. Inviting. Tempting.
“How has the life been?” he asked casually, reaching to a remote and turning on the TV for some background noise before turning towards you with a smile.
“Same as ever. Nothing much changes when you’re my age” you laughed awkwardly. Hongjoong’s eyes dropped to your lips and you stuttered at the motion. “W-what about you?”
“Just business all around” he shrugged. “A lot of work, as always.”
“I hope you didn’t have too much coffee today” you grumbled. The man laughed at the memory – last time he was overworked, you consumed his blood with such amount of caffeine that your whole body was trembling for the whole next day.
“I didn’t, don’t worry. I had a full night of sleep today.”
“Good, good boy…” The words slipped before you could stop them, because you were fixated on his lower face so much you forgot yourself for a moment. “A-ah…”
Hongjoong’s chest shook with laughter and the corner of his lips lifted teasingly.
“Good boy, huh?”
From the way he shifted you could tell that the small talk was over. His hand reached to your face and tilted your lip, taking a long, knowing look at one of the sharp fangs in your mouth, retracted but still there, still present. You inhaled sharply. A shiver ran up your spine.
“Are you really old enough to call me that?” he teased. You were growing hyperaware of the warmth of his body where your knees now touched, and where his other arm was so close behind, almost closing around you. Your breath hitched.
“W-well, am I not…?” you tried saving your grace. Truly, your body was set in stone at much younger than he currently was, and even the real age didn’t prevent you from feeling like you’re the young, vulnerable woman caught in an older man’s embrace.
“You don’t look like it.”
“Looks can be deceiving. You know that. Y-you know how old I actually am.”
“So what?”
His hand traveled lower, wrapping around your throat and staying there. Gentle and unassuming, but carrying the weight that made your head spin.
“Are you even as old as you say? With the way I can imagine you blushing right now, I would say you’re barely a teen” he teased. “A virgin, to that.”
You bristled. He, of all people, should know better.
“I-I’m not-”
“I know you aren’t.” He pushed you down on the couch and crawled on top of you. You let out a whimper. It should be so easy to overpower a human, you thought. To push him back and make him submit to you by force – that’s what your nature was all about. You were predatory species, your entire point of being was to take from a prey like him.
Yet, you laid there, frozen, staring at him with your eyes wide. He must have known he was playing with fire; how could he not?
But he seemed to relish in the flames tickling his skin when he shaped them to his liking. And who were you to deny him that?
All those thoughts died in your mind when something glistened and a small pendant of a necklace slipped out of his satin dress shirt, dangling above your throat. Your eyes widened at the realization.
A cross. A silver cross.
Hongjoong caught your glance. And smirked.
“You told me crosses aren’t a problem.”
“B-but it’s made of silver.” You could almost feel the heat it resonated with.
The man leaned down a little and you held your breath.
“What will happen if it touches you?” he asked.
“It will hurt. Burn… like acid” you replied quietly.
“Is it dangerous?”
“N-no, but…”
He leaned down some more and the edge of the cross grazed your neck, making you let out a pained gasp. The sound of sizzling filled the air and you tried to squirm away, but Hongjoong’s hands grabbed your shoulders and pushed you back down.
“Don’t move, or it’ll happen again.”
Your chest heaved with each rapid breath you took.
“Hurts…”
“Just a little. You can take it.”
You squeezed your eyes closed. He was right. The pain wasn’t strong – it was the implication of it that terrified you more.
Something touched the raw wound on your neck, making you flinch. But the warmth was not the one of silver – it was on Hongjoong’s fingers as they brushed along the burn, watching it close slowly in front of his very eyes. Some of your blood caught on his thumb and he brought it to your face. You slowly blinked your eyes open.
Not a thought crossed your mind before you wrapped your lips around his finger. Your own blood wouldn’t suffice, no. But it wasn’t why doing this felt right. Your fangs ached dully, itching to bury in the flesh in their reach. You didn’t let the urge consume you.
“Are you thirsty?” he asked. You nodded with your eyes hazed. “How much?”
“I’m parched” you mumbled against his hand.
“Too bad.”
He pulled his thumb out of your mouth, making you whimper and try to follow, but his other hand pushed you away as he finally climbed off you, sitting back in his spot, hands resting on his thighs as he waited for you to regain your composure and sit back up.
You calmed down your breath, forcing yourself to sit up and pretend that the whole ordeal didn’t impact you like it did. As nonchalantly as you could muster, you smoothened the fabric of your dress and wiped the sealed skin of your neck, now only soiled with remains of blood, but no longer open.
You glared at him while trying to get your hair in order. Hongjoong’s gentle glance never left you, watching you with genuine curiosity.
“Why did you do that?” you grumbled.
“I was curious” he admitted innocently.
“Well, you satisfied your curiosity, so you can put it away now” you glared at the pendant on his chest instead. It rested against his skin so effortlessly you could almost believe it was harmless.
“Ask me nicely.”
Your hands froze mid-air as you just finished smoothening your hair to your best ability, and you slowly put them down in your lap, swallowing down your pride.
“Could you, please, put away all the silver that is currently within your range?” you drawled carefully. “And, while at it, all the garlic, too.”
Hongjoong’s chest shook with laughter at your last words. But he didn’t oppose this time, pulling the silver chain over his head and carelessly throwing it inside the drawer by the couch. You let out a sigh of relief.
“Could we just…?”
“Hm?”
“I told you I’m parched.”
“Hmm.”
He leaned back lazily. Another stretch of his neck – exposing the throat; you had no doubt now that the teasing was all on purpose, riling you up slowly and making your mouth water.
“Earn it.”
He glanced at you. There was no smile on his face now – only business. You narrowed your eyes at him.
“You want to suck my blood” he drawled lazily. “Suck something else first.”
Although physically unable to blush, you were certain your expression said it all. Hongjoong didn’t budge.
And you didn’t expect him to.
It wouldn’t be the first time. Not really. Not by a long shot. It started slow – the way he allowed it to, and the way you were able to take. He stretched his presence into your comfort zone at a respectful pace, going further and further until you, yourself, forgot what your limits initially were. You didn’t imagine going back now. But it still astounded you that you made it this far.
You scooted a bit closer to him on the velvet couch, your fingers brushing his thigh, clad in black slacks that laid on his silhouette in this effortlessly perfect way, as though there was no way anything could ever look bad on him, anyway. Hongjoong leaned back, watching you intently, but not making a move to guide you – not for now, clearly curious as to what approach you would take.
And you knew what approach would feel right.
You weren’t about to leave his apartment in as pristine shape as you entered it, anyway. Might as well make the loss worth it – you thought, leaving the soft couch and sinking to your knees, making your way between Hongjoong’s legs, pushing his thighs apart to sit comfortably.
You looked up at him with a small smile in the corner of your lip.
“You’re quite confident about letting me have you in my mouth” you joked lightly. “What if I bite you down here?” You allowed your hand to move to his crotch, grazing his bulge with your nails. It made him return the smile.
“You wouldn’t.”
“How do you know that?”
“I trained you well, didn’t I?” He leaned forward, fingers grasping your chin, nails digging into your skin a bit more than necessary. “Or should we get back to basics? Should I fuck your face until you forget how to use those pretty little fangs of yours? Or bend you over so they are simply useless when I take that wet, undead cunt?”
Your breath caught in your throat at the crude words.
But there was no denying that you were growing wet from them, and Hongjoong knew how to push your buttons just about right. How to tease you, how to make you feel inferior in the sweetest way, maybe especially because you didn’t get to feel this way during your immortal life all that much.
As if he could see the cogs turning in your head, he let out a short, breathy laughter, before releasing your chin and leaning back, elbows resting on the backrest behind.
“Get to it.”
Your movements were careful at first, hands shaky as you reached towards the zipper, eyes fixated on the work in front of you because if you only glanced up towards Hongjoong himself, there was no way you would be able to focus on the task. You undid his slacks slowly, trying to steady your breath all the while.
You pulled down his boxers, and your mouth salivated. He was already semi-hard and your insides throbbed at the realization that he was impacted by you just as much as you were by him. It was a praise in itself, a recognition that you so desperately needed. Hongjoong’s attention was everything. If only you could please him in one way or another, gods, what else was there to want?
You felt yourself melt underneath him as you took him in your manicured hand, your lips pressing against his shaft with an expression of cult-like devotion. You dared a single look at his face – relaxed, yet fixated on you with intent. His fingers flexed in the air, a single white gold ring catching the light of the crystal chandelier above your heads.
You licked a long strip up his underside, your nails grazing him ever so slightly before you took the tip in your mouth. Your eyes closed, your thoughts slipping away at the familiarity of his shape and taste.
You took your time, slowly accommodating your throat to his thickness, setting an unhurried pace that you knew he could melt into, and when you glanced up once again, his own eyes were closed, silhouette relaxed, head leaning back in a way that exposed his delicious throat.
Your eyes caught a glimpse of a single vein pulsing right beneath his skin, a drop of sweat, tempting, calling you in… And before you realized, your fangs extended, and you rapidly pulled away, eyes widening at the hiss of pain just above you.
You- You nicked him. Your hands covered your mouth in panic. Your eyes shot up to meet his own, now fixated on you with a scowl on his face.
But then your gaze caught the smallest streak of blood running down the side of his length, and your eyes clouded for a second, your body leaning forward before you could even utter a thought.
Hongjoong’s fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you away before you reached him again. You whined.
“Really?” he scoffed, pushing you off him and onto the floor. You felt terror run through you at the brief thought of rejection.
But then you looked up and you saw his own eyes, flickering with something dangerous, but hungry, unsatiated.
And he was, undeniably, still hard.
Out of the chest pocket of his dress shirt, he pulled out a handkerchief. You watched intently as he brought the cloth to the wound. His blood, mixed with precum and your own saliva, soaked into the white fabric. Your eyes didn’t leave it for a second.
“Come here.”
You didn’t think before obeying.
Grabbing the back of your neck, Hongjoong shoved the dirty fabric in your mouth, and you moaned when the faintest flavor of his blood hit your tongue, although barely there, dissolved, impossible to satiate yourself with.
Without missing a beat, he pushed you onto the couch next to him, onto your hands and knees. You breathed heavily, still dazed, still fixated on nothing but the taste in your mouth. Hongjoong’s hands closed on your hips, fingers digging in as he leaned forward, hovering right above you. He clicked his tongue and a shiver ran down your spine, your back arching as you twisted your neck, trying to reach to him with your mouth. Hongjoong gripped you tighter.
“You’re a dumb slut, you know that, darling?” he seethed. “You didn’t even apologize. Blood-hungry, cock-hungry, either way you just need something in your mouth.” Whatever you tried to say, came out muffled around the fabric of Hongjoong’s handkerchief and turned into a whimper when his hand suddenly came down hard against your ass. “What was that? You can’t speak, you can’t do anything right, what are you, a mutt?”
His fingers moved, feeling you up through the wrinkled fabric of your dress, before closing around the back of your neck and pushing it down. Your elbows bent under the pressure, your cheek pressing into the black velvet of the couch.
“Stay.” The single word, spoken with almost-indifference, made your mind fog, and the position of pure submission, with your face down and arse up, only amplified that sensation. You felt the bottom of your dress being lifted until it no longer kept your lower half hidden, and Hongjoong hesitated only for a moment before pressing his hand against the last barrier – your lacy underwear. Your breath came out uneven when you unwittingly pressed back against him, and this one time he didn’t take it away, his own breaths heavy when you ground yourself against his palm. Your panties were already been soaked through, and he was touching the cold wetness now, so unnatural to what a human body should feel like.
It was less than a minute before he decided you’d had enough and grabbed the lace, pulling it down and off hastily. Not waiting any longer – you didn’t think either of you had any patience left – he lined up at your entrance, and you pushed back against him again. Your loud moan mixed with his barely-contained one.
“Fuck…”
“Joong…” You barely recognized your own voice, muffled through the handkerchief, a pathetic whine, so needy; an utter surrender.
Seemingly unable to hold back any longer, the man buried his length in you, all at once. Your fingers closed around nothing at the painful stretch. Shallow, strained breaths. You would heal in no time, you knew it, Hongjoong knew it, and that seemed to spur him on, pushing as far into you as he could, arms wrapping around your waist and holding you tightly as your body accommodated to his shape once again.
“There you go…” he whispered.
As if already knowing exactly the moment you’re ready, maybe from the way your body started relaxing for just a second it had, he pulled out almost completely and pushed in once again, roughly, and then once again, with even more force, until he set up a fast pace, with intensity that knocked the air out of your lungs.
Your body barely held itself up, only focused on trying to stay afloat during whatever Hongjoong decided to put you through. Your eyes were shut tightly, the tension in you growing rapidly, begging to be released. The sounds of your strained breaths and whimpers around your makeshift gag mixed with the ragged panting somewhere behind you and the noise of skin against skin, all doused in the scent of sex with that faint hue of Hongjoong’s blood that never quite dissipated. Were your fangs out or not, you weren’t even able to tell, not when your mind was hazed with pleasure and submission, with the sweet sensation of being dependent, taken apart and ruined.
And when you felt you would fall apart completely, Hongjoong suddenly pulled out of you; everything pulsed, everything still moved, hungry for more and relentless, when he snatched the handkerchief from your mouth and threw it aside, then sat on the couch and pulled you on top of him, one hand guiding his cock back into you when the other cupped your cheek, suddenly so desperate, suddenly just as needy as you were, filled with craving that only you could satiate. With remains of his pride and control thrown out the window, pulling you in closer as if he could not get enough.
His hold set the pace you did your best to follow, but now, with your eyes meeting from up close, you were barely aware of anything else. Your hands cupped his face, leaning down and making your lips meet in a messy, unsynchronized kiss.
“Bite me” he groaned against your mouth, a command, but with that hue of plea and desperation that made you ride him faster, more fiercely. A moan of your name slipped past Hongjoong’s lips as he tilted his head backwards, baring his throat to you, all sweaty, all inviting, all fucked out.
Your teeth bared on instinct, the hunger no longer possible to contain. You held on for just a moment, savoring the sight. So close now. You leaned in closer. Breathed in.
Your teeth buried in his neck.
The sweet ichor flooded your mouth and you moaned, the overwhelming sensation, melted with Hongjoong’s own pained groan, making you come undone on top of him, your muscles clenching, your teeth sinking deeper. Not even a few seconds later Hongjoong came as well, filling you, with everything he had, both your cunt and your mouth now full of him, full of Hongjoong, full of this luxurious goodness that you could kill for to keep all to yourself. You rode out both of your orgasms, letting the sensation take over. So good. So palatable.
And as the things gradually came to a still, you didn’t stop to take, filling yourself up to the brim.
“Enough, darling. Enough.”
Hongjoong’s hand patted your thigh gently and you reacted instantly, pulling your teeth out carefully. His expression was hazed, as though only half-present, but a small smile ghosted in the corner of his lip, a bit teasing, a bit of that fire he always had. He was slightly pale, and his hair was all tousled, and you didn’t even notice when you disheveled his shirt, now almost completely unbuttoned, showing all the sweat that ran down his chest. You wondered just how much more fucked out you must have looked right now.
You cupped his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs.
“You’re really something else, Joong.” A smile broke out on his face and you mirrored it with your own. “You make it so easy to forget I’m the invincible one.”
“Not exactly invincible, huh” he smirked, his fingers reaching to brush your throat, where his silver cross had burned you before. You narrowed your eyes at him.
“That wasn’t funny.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be. I told you I was curious. I meant it.” He caressed the skin gently now, rubbing it carefully, although he barely had any strength to hold himself up. “But I’m sorry. I should have asked first.”
You smiled proudly.
“I think I like you like this” you suddenly announced and the man blinked in confusion. “Don’t take me wrong, I liked you before, too. But, you are pretty cute when you lose some of that ego.”
A breathy laughter left him, before his hand dropped back to your waist, holding you just a bit closer for now. He was slowly falling asleep, and maybe, just maybe, you were enjoying that vulnerable version of him too much to keep him up.
“I will clean up and make you some sweet tea” you announced, finally climbing off his lap.
“Mhm…”
Hongjoong’s eyes were already closed, and you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss into his forehead.
Even barely conscious, disheveled and sweaty, with smallest strands of blood running down his neck, to you, Kim Hongjoong still looked ethereal.
A/N: Please reblog if you enjoyed and follow if you would like to read more in the future. Thank you for your time!
ᯓPairing: wolf shifter! Wooyoung x doe shifter! f! reader
ᯓGenre: fluff, slight angst, smut, shifter au, strangers to lovers, M for mature (18+)
ᯓWarnings: mention of blood/injuries, traps, being hunted (not sexy)
ᯓWord count: 6967 (nice)
ᯓSmut warnings: fingering, multiple (two) orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex (you are not a deer or wolf hybrid do not do this without preparing for it), knotting, yn complains but it's lighthearted and she's happy about it
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Part 4 the final part of my deal with @sanjoongie hehe <3 finlly done after putting it off for so long lol
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The pain is shooting up your leg as you trudge along, the heavy metal trap scraping the dirt behind you. You managed to wrench it off its chain to escape the heavy footsteps of the hunter, but you know it won’t be long until he finds you due to the trail the metal is dragging along the forest ground.
You can’t even bring yourself to stop moving, despite the pain coursing through you. Your ears are flattened against your head, your eyes blurring with unshed tears as you huff quietly from the strain. You don’t even know where you are, the sharp scent of blood mangling your sense of smell.
You don’t even register the large grey wolf standing in front of you until you hear it growl low in its throat, its piercing grey eyes narrowed straight at you. Its lips curl in disgust as it takes a menacing step forward, its muscles rippling beneath its dark fur.
“Stupid creature, wandering into my territory like this,” it snarls, its voice a guttural rasp. “Can’t you hear the hunters? They’ll gut you if they find you like this.” Despite his harsh words, there’s a flicker of reluctant concern in his gaze as he notices the bloody trap dragging behind you.
You can barely form words, letting out a helpless bleat. The wolf’s words don’t register in your mind, and all you can think of is the impending doom meant for you. Giving up, you collapse to the ground, crashing against a tree as you pant heavily.
The wolf hesitates for a moment, then cautiously approaches your fallen form, its tail twitching warily. It sniffs at you, detecting the metallic tang of blood mixed with the musky scent of your kind. There’s no way it can’t tell you are a deer shifter now. With a grunt, it reaches out with a massive paw to gently nudge you with it.
“What use would I have for a broken, bleeding prey?” it mutters under its breath. But instead of turning away, it crouches down, using its teeth to carefully remove the mangled trap from your leg. The wound is deep, but not life-threatening. The wolf licks the gash clean, then begins to apply pressure with its tongue to stem the bleeding.
You whimper softly as the wet heat of its tongue washes over the throbbing cut, your body trembling from the shock of the pain. You’re too weak to pull away, your eyes fluttering shut as you focus on breathing through the discomfort. When you open your eyes again, you see the wolf watching you intently, its expression unreadable. You bleat once more before attempting to get up, but your torn up leg gives out again, and you land painfully on your stomach.
With an exasperated sign, the wolf settles beside you, nudging your side with its muzzle. “Slow down, foolish deer,” it commands gruffly. “You’re not going anywhere far anytime soon.”
It turns and pads back towards its den, expecting you to follow. Once inside, it nods towards a pile of soft furs. “Rest here. I’ll go clear your tracks and return when the sun sets.”
With that, it disappears into the back of the den, leaving you alone amidst the cosy nest of pelts. The warmth seeps into your chilled bones, and despite the lingering ache in your leg, you find yourself drifting off to sleep. As exhaustion claims you, you let out a contented sign, feeling the warmth envelop you like a comforting embrace despite the terrible pain crawling up your leg. Just before slipping into unconsciousness, you bleat softly, a thank-you.
Days pass in a blur of rest and recovery for you. The wolf – who you soon learnt he was a shifter as well, screaming when you woke up that very first night to see a human in front of you – tends to your wounds, changing the dressings and bringing you fresh water and berries. He keeps a close eye on you, ensuring you don’t wander off or cause yourself further harm.
As you regain your strength, your interactions become less strained. The wolf grows more accustomed to your presence, enjoying your soft bleats as he tends to the fire. However, he never lets his guard down and remains fiercely independent when you try and assist him in small ways.
One evening, as the moon casts a soft glow over the den, you watch him with wide, curious eyes, studying him intently as if trying to unravel his stoic façade. “What are you looking at, doe?”
You tilt your head. “What is your name?” you ask quietly. “I don’t think you ever told me.”
The wolf’s ears perk up at the question, a rare flicker of surprise crossing his features. “My name is Wooyoung,” he replies gruffly. “And it’s not important. You should focus on healing. Not asking unnecessary questions.” There’s a hint of defensiveness in his tone, as if revealing more about himself goes against his natural inclination for solitude.
Despite his snappy reply, Wooyoung continues the conversation, perhaps drawn in by your innocent curiosity., “Why do you want to know my name, anyway?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.
You hum, limping over. “You saved me,” you say as if it was a fact of nature. Your head lowers to meet his gaze. “I want to be able to thank you with your name, Wooyoung. I am called YN.”
Wooyoung’s expression remains guarded, but a faint glimmer of appreciation sparks in his eyes at the mention of gratitude. He nods curtly, acknowledging your gesture.
“I suppose ‘thank you’ will suffice,” he says, his tone still gruff but lacking its usual edge. “Just remember, I did what needed doing. Don’t go make a habit of getting caught in traps, YN.” There’s a hint of annoyance in his words, but it’s one tempered by a deeper understanding – one that recognizes the inherent fragility and resilience of life, especially in the wild. As the silence stretches between you both, you become acutely aware of his proximity, the warmth emanating from his large form and the way his chest lifts with every breath.
You hesitate for hardly a second before settling down beside him, leaving enough space for him to remain comfortable. “You’re nicer than you think,” you say quietly.
Wooyoung’s jaw clenches at the comment, his hackles rising slightly. “Don’t flatter me, doe,” he growls, his voice tinged with discomfort. “I just…I do what needs to be done.”
But despite his protestations, Wooyoung can’t help but steal glances at you, taking in the soft rhythm of your breathing and the peaceful expression on your face as you blink sleepily. As the night wears on, you slowly shift, body melting into your human form, a rare occurrence. Normally, you remain in your deer form for faster healing, but it’s a showcase of trust and vulnerability to sleep in such a defenseless form.
Despite the differences between you, there’s nothing but security and safety he’s offered you, and this is your attempt at showing your gratitude.
Time passes and you heal slowly. While you still struggle with a heavy limp and can’t roam far, you can move more freely now. But despite your best efforts to be friends, Wooyoung keeps a distant watch. He just observes you from a distance, his gaze always sharp with a mix of concern and wariness.
But as days turn into weeks, Wooyoung finds himself drawn to the den more frequently, but a deep-sated need to ensure your safety. You catch sight of him watching as you struggle to navigate the forest, your limping gait a testament to the lingering effects of your injury.
One evening, you gather the courage to limp over to where he sits by the door, watching out the window. “Wooyoung?” you call for him quietly.
Wooyoung’s ears prick up at the sound of his name, his attention snapping over to you. He eyes you approaching, taking in the set of your jaw and the tremble in your steps. He frowns, leaning forward, his body coiled tight like a spring. “What is it, doe?” he rumbles, his voice a low growl. “You shouldn’t be putting weight on that leg.” Despite his gruff words, there’s a note of concern beneath the surface that you can pick out.
You tilt your head. “May I sit with you?” you ask sweetly, trying to appeal to his protective instinct.
Wooyoung’s expression softens at the pleading look in your eyes, and pride blooms in your chest. He nods curtly, gesturing beside him. “Fine, but be careful not to jar that leg,” he warns. As you settle down, he shifts to accommodate you, his broad shoulder pressing against yours in a subtle display of affection.
The warmth of your body seeps into his, and you can feel him relaxing against you. He looks back out the window, his gaze lost in the twilight as your gentle breathing fills the silence. After a few minutes, you take initiative and rest your head on his shoulder, nose pressed into his warm neck. It’s a motion of trust and care, and he freezes at the touch. But as the seconds stretch on, Wooyoung relaxes, his hand coming to rest tentatively on your back, offering silent reassurance.
“Don’t get used to this, doe,” he murmurs, his voice low. “It’s just temporary.” Even though his words are gruff, though, you can tell he savours the closeness.
You smile, nuzzling further into him. “Thank you, Wooyoung. It means a lot to me,” you whisper, voice filled with gratitude.
Wooyoung swallows audibly. “You’re welcome, doe,” he trasps, his voice thick. “Just don’t read too much into it. I’m just doing this because I have to.”
Despite his words, Wooyoung’s hand remains on your back, a silent promise of continued support.
As the seasons change and winter’s chill sets in, Wooyoung allows your affections to continue, and he begins to slowly reciprocate. He begins teaching you the ways of his territory, protecting you from the stray coyotes and bringing you the sparse vegetation still growing.
Despite his initial reluctance, you know he’s come to rely on your presence just as much as you rely on his. He still maintains his aloof demeanour, but there’s a newfound warmth in his gaze whenever it lands on you. You don’t push, and you know he appreciates it.
One particularly frigid morning, as you trudge through a blanket of snow, Wooyoung suddenly stops., turning to you urgently. “Stay close and be quiet,” he whispers, his voice sharp with worry.
You snap your head over to look at Wooyoung, stepping closer to him, both of you immediately shifting to your animal forms. You can smell the sharp tang of metal and you freeze, remembering the same smell of the trap that had damaged you months ago. The one you still limp from.
Wooyoung’s hackles rise as he sniffs the air, his keen senses alerting him to the presence of a hunter nearby. His pride screams at him to investigate, to learn more about the hunters, but he hesitates. There’s not just him to worry about now, not with you on the line.
He glances behind at you, and you can see your fearful expression reflected in his dark eyes. With a heavy sigh, Wooyoung makes a decision, his loyalty to you overriding his own curiosity. “Stay behind me, doe,” he instructs. “We need to head back to the den.”
You nod, staying close to his warm body, ears perked up and scanning the trees. You can hear the creak of metal underfoot and your heart races faster. Wooyoung moves cautiously, sniffing the ground, before he stops abruptly. You bump into his hindquarters, peering around him to see what he’s found.
There’s a gleaming metal trap on the ground, the look of it different from the one that was attached to you before, but the scent is familiar, the telltale signs of recent use making you shudder. The metal is cold to the touch, and the scent of oil and blood hangs heavy in the air. Wooyoung growls low in his throat, a mixture of anger and concern. “It’s a new one,” he mutters, “and it’s baited. Likely meant for deer shifters. They must’ve known.”
He looks back at you, his expression grim. “We need to destroy it. Stay put while I disable it.”
Without further ado, he shifts to his human form and begins to manipulate the intricate mechanism, using his deft fingers to loosen the springs and disengage the trigger. The process is delicate, requiring patience and precision, but he’s determined to render the trap useless.
As you stand there patiently, your ear flicks as you hear the soft crunch of snow. “Woo-“ you have no time to finish your warning when a shot rings out and you drop like a rock, red blooming on your left flank and dripping into the snow. A bleat of pain rips out of your lungs.
Time seems to slow as Wooyoung spins around, his eyes widening. The sound of the gun echoes through the forest, followed by your agonised cry as you collapse to the ground. In a flash, he’s by your side, immediately shifting to cover your body with his massive form. He sniffs the air, trying to pinpoint the location of the hunter, but all he can detect is the metallic scent of blood mingled with your terror.
“Doe…YN…” he croaks out, voice trembling with rage. Without hesitation, he drops down to lick at the wound, his tongue warm and soothing against your damaged flesh.
You try and fail to hold back your tears as you whimper, but Wooyoung’s comforting touch eases some of the agony. You attempt to stand, but fall once more. “Wooyoung, you can’t stay here. The hunter is still near…”
Wooyoung’s eyes flash with anger, clearly wanting to confront the threat head-on. But he knows you’re right – engaging the hunter would put both of you in danger. With a heavy growl, he nudges you towards a nearby thicket. “Get to cover, doe. I’ll draw him off.” Before you can protest, Wooyoung turns and bounds away, his powerful legs eating up the distance as he puts on a show of aggressing, barking and snarling loudly to attract the hunter’s attention.
You can’t do anything but crawl painfully through the underbrush, trying to make yourself as small as possible, vision blurring from blood loss and shock. You can hear the distant sounds of Wooyoung’s efforts through the trees, his fierce howls echoing. As you lay there, you know you must leave for the den immediately, before his efforts are in vain and the hunter makes you both his prey.
You carefully stand on shaky legs, shifting to your human form. It’ll be harder to move quickly, but the smaller size makes hiding easier. You press your hand to the wound to staunch the blood as you limp towards the direction of Wooyoung’s den.
Each step is like agony, but you push as much as you can, grateful for the snow that has started to fall, hiding your tracks and any blood that slips past your fingers. But as the cold bites through you, you collapse. With a last burst of effort, you shift back to your deer form to stay warm. You’re not far from the den, but you can’t bring yourself to move, crimson blood pooling in the white snow.
What feels like hours pass, your consciousness slipping in and out, when a familiar presence settles next to you. “Doe…” you can hear Wooyoung whisper desperately. “Hold on.”
You bleat quietly, lifting your head slightly before it flops back down. “Wooyoungie,” you murmur, “are they gone?”
“Yes, doe, they’ve gone,” Wooyoung murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “But we need to hurry. Can you stand?”
He gives your flank a gentle nudge, urging you to stand. There’s not much time – every second counts if they’re going to make it back to the den alive.
“No…” you mumble weakly, eyes closing. “Tired…”
Wooyoung whimpers softly, laying his head down on your lap. “Then we wait here, doe,” he says quietly. “Together.” It’s a silent promise that no matter what, he will stay by your side.
You open your eyes blearily, gazing down at Wooyoung. There’s something tender in his gesture, a vulnerability you’ve never seen before. “Thank you, Wooyoung,” you whisper, gathering what strength you can to nuzzle into the soft fur on his head.
Wooyoung’s eyes flutter close as your head rests on his own, leaning into your caress. For a moment, the pain and fear are gone from your mind, replaced with the simplicity of this quiet, intimate moment. The sun dips below the horizon, casting the forest in a soft, golden light, and you both remain intertwined. Time loses all meaning, and the world fades away to just the two of you, bound together by a loyalty that neither can break.
-
With his slow, careful attendance, the gunshot wound in your flank has stopped its bleeding thanks to Wooyoung’s licking, but the pain lingers. You lift your head wearily, but immediately become more alert. “Wooyoung,” you call out, bleating quietly to rouse him. “Smoke.”
Wooyoung’s ears perk up at your words, his nostrils flaring as he takes in the smoke scent wafting through the forest. He growls softly, rising to his feet with a grunt of effort. His muscles ache from staying in one position for so long, but he pushes through the discomfort.
“Can you walk now, doe?” he asks, bending his head to nudge you to your feet. His eyes roam over your body, assessing the damage before meeting your gaze.
You shake your head, legs quivering. “No,” you say. “Maybe…”
Bones crunch and crack as you shift to your human form. There’s blood smeared over your leg, but you’re standing a bit more steadily. “Maybe like this, but I’m not going to be fast…”
Wooyoung watches, aware of the pain etched on your face. “I can carry you, doe,” he offers, dipping low to allow you to climb onto his back. “Just hang on tight.” He looks at you still as softly as ever, despite the tension in his body.
When you hesitate, Wooyoung prods you with his nose. “…Okay,” you concede after a moment. “But tell me if you want me to get off. I can walk if it’s too much.”
Wooyoung nods, and the moment you settle on his back, he takes off at a brisk pace, keeping you as steady as possible. It’s dark out when you finally reach the den, deep in the heart of the forest. Wooyoung carries you inside, gently setting you on the soft bed of pelts, checking you over for any sign of exacerbated injury. “Are you okay, doe?” he asks, his voice soft.
You whine at the loss of his body warmth. “Tired,” you mumble out. “Can you…cold…” You furl into yourself, a shaky sigh leaving your mouth.
Wooyoung’s heart clenches at your request, immediately settling beside you, curling protectively around you, providing warmth and comfort. “Rest well, doe,” he murmurs, nuzzling his head against yours.
You shuffle closer, pressing into his broad chest as your breaths puff across him, little whimpers and bleats leaving your mouth. Wooyoung stirs slightly, pushing himself even closer to you. “Don’t worry, doe,” he whispers, voice thick with affection. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Despite everything, it’s a breakthrough in your relationship, both of you knowing no matter what, there’s no way you can let each other go.
As winter slowly recedes and the promise of spring fills the air once more, your wound heals again, and your limp becomes less prominent. Wooyoung awaits your awakening every morning, his tail thumping happily if you wake with a smile.
Although it’s never talked about, you begin weaving a blanket together, preparing for the next winter together. Wooyoung watches, a proud smile on his face whenever you take a moment to glance shyly at him. For the first time since you met, you allow yourself to believe, just maybe, you might have found your true home.
As the months pass, you settle into a comfortable routine, spending your days slowly making Wooyoung’s den homier and more suitable for a deer, and your nights in his arms. Your bond grows stronger every day, your connection deepening in ways you never would have expected with a wolf.
One hot summer day, as you both sit by the babbling brook that runs behind your home, you turn to Wooyoung. “…you know…fall is approaching,” you begin to say, shifting in your seat nervously as you peek at Wooyoung’s expression.
Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, leaning back against a large rock and crossing his arms over his chest. “And what about fall brings it to your mind, doe?” he prompts, his voice filled with amusement. “Planning on picking berries? Or perhaps hunting squirrels?”
You scoff, smacking his arm playfully. “Shut up, you’re so mean.” You pull your hand back, nerves returning. “Well, I don’t know if it’s the same for wolves, but…” you trail off, looking away as you try to compose yourself.
Wooyoung chuckles at your hesitation, reaching out to gently stroke your arm, the touch soothing. “What is it, doe?” he asks, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “What are you trying to ask me?”
In one breath, you spill it out with your eyes squeezed shut. “Mating season is coming up for deer and I want to spend it with you.”
To understand your babble, Wooyoung has to strain, but once the words click, he blinks in surprise, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. But his grin widens, revealing his sharp canines. “Is that so?” he teases, giving you a playful nudge. “And why would you want to do that, hmm? Trying to find some excitement during mating season?”
You groan, hiding your face behind your hands. “Stop teasing!” you whine. “I just want to be with you! Is that so much to ask, for you to hold me and kiss me and –“
You slap a hand over your mouth, gasping. “I’m going back inside. I think I hear – uh – the blanket needs to be finished!” Scrambling to your feet, you make your escape back, into the den.
You can feel Wooyoung watch with a fond smile as you flee, chuckling under his breath. “Mating season indeed,” he mutters loud enough for you to hear before rising to his feet and stretching languidly, following you back in.
He finds you busily weaving again, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “YN,” he murmurs into your ear, breath warm against your skin. “Don’t run away from me. I want to hear more about these plans of yours, doe.”
You squirm in his grasp, cheeks burning. “You heard me,” you mumble, refusing to meet his gaze. “I want you to…well…you know.” You cut yourself off again, the flush spread to your neck.
Pulling you tighter against him, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, Wooyoung chuckles. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice tantalising. “And just what do you think I should do, hm?”
He moves his hand lower, tracing the curve of your hip and sliding down to your thigh. His touch is feather-light, yet it sends sparks of electricity down your spine. You let out a squeak, tail twitching in response to his touch. “You know, like…uh – um…” you stutter, your face growing even warmer. With a sigh, you grumble half-heartedly, “You’re mean. I take it back. I’ll spend it by myself.”
Wooyoung lets out a hearty laugh at your feeble attempts to resist him. He turns you to face him fully, cupping your soft cheeks gently. “Oh, no you don’t, doe,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips as he murmurs, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
His tongue presses past your lips, exploring the warmth of your mouth. As you kiss, Wooyoung pulls you closer, the hard bulge in his trousers pressing against you.
“Perhaps we should practice for it right now,” he rasps, pulling away for air, and you squawk, pressing your face into his shoulder in embarrassment.
“Greedy wolf,” you huff. “Can’t even wait until fall.”
Wooyoung chuckles at your feigned annoyance, his hands roaming over your body. He pulls you closer, pressing you against his arousal. “But doe,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe. “How else am I supposed to prepare for such an important event?”
You breathe in sharply. “Jerk yourself off?” you suggest, sticking out your tongue. “You should work on your patience, silly wolf.”
Hands tightening on your hips, Wooyoung laughs. “Oh, I have plenty of patience, doe,” he purrs, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “But sometimes…a man just needs a good fuck.”
He pulls away from you, stripping off his clothes before sitting on the soft, pelted bedding. “Come here, doe,” he beckons, patting the empty spot beside him.
You cross your arms, tapping your foot. “No fair,” you complain. “You’re always so bossy.” Yet, you comply and strip out of your clothing, tossing the ball of fabric at his head before crawling into his lap and straddling his thighs, holding back a smile at his sputter of indignation.
“I’m not bossy,” Wooyoung protests as he tosses the clothes aside and tugs you closer by your hips when you crawl into his lap. “You’re the one who wanted this.” His cock twitches despite the teasing, throbbing with anticipation. He slides a hand down, stroking himself slowly as he looks up at you.
You make a face. “I wanted this during mating season, when I’m all prepped and ready to take you. Now I gotta stretch myself out to have your stupid knot. It’s so much work.” Despite your complaining, you reach down to shove two fingers up your pussy, biting your lip at the feeling.
Wooyoung grins at your complaints, his grip on his cock tightening. “That’s not a bad thing, doe,” he hums, watching as you touch yourself atop his lap. “Getting all stretched out for me.”
His other hand moves to tease your clit, circling the bud with his thumb. “And don’t worry about the knot,” he adds, his voice dropping to a low growl. “I’ll make sure you’re ready for it.”
At his words, your legs clench and you whimper, head dropping down into the crook of his neck. “Can you help?” you gasp. “Can’t get deep enough…”
Wooyoung hums at your plea, dipping his head down and nudging at your cheek until he can press his lips against yours, tongue pushing into your mouth. “Let me help you, doe,” he coos, voice husky with desire as he pulls away from your lips reluctantly. His hand moves down to your clit, circling the sensitive bud as he feels your breath quicken. “Just relax. Let me take care of everything.”
He slips two fingers into your wet heat, curling and twisting to hit all the right spots. His thumb continues to circle your clit, adding to the pleasure coursing through you, your breathing ragged. You can’t help but rock your hips back and forth, grinding down needily.
“Yes, YN, just like that,” he growls, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Sucking and nibbling on it, he fingers you relentlessly. “Come for me. I want to feel you tighten around my fingers,” he demands, teeth grazing your nipple.
It’s as if his words sparked the immense heat in your core, and your nails dig into his shoulders. “Wooyoung!” you cry out, pleasure rippling through you. You slump against him, panting heavily as you can feel your pussy flutter rhythmically around his fingers.
Growling in satisfaction, Wooyoung slows his ministrations, allowing you to ride out your orgasm before pulling his fingers free.
“Better?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face. “Ready for the main event now, doe?”
You nod weakly, breathing still uneven. “Yeah,” you sigh, laying your head on his chest. “Give me a moment…I didn’t expect to come already.”
Wooyoung chuckles, stroking your back gently. Although he’s still hard, he waits patiently, pressing his lips to your temple. “Take your time, doe,” he murmurs. “We’ve got all night.”
You lay there for several minutes, catching your breath, thankful for the reprieve he’s granted you. He continues comforting you with his touch, letting you rest for as long as you need before you push yourself up, looking down at him.
“’M ready,” you say softly, and Wooyoung grins up at you, eyes dark with desire. He pulls you down for another heated kiss, tongue sliding past your lips in a tangle of tongues.
“Then come here, YN,” he murmurs into your mouth, reaching down to guide his cock to press against your hole. “Ready?”
At your nod, he pushes slowly inside, groaning as your heat envelops him. “Ah, doe,” he moans, burying himself inch by inch into your cunt. “So fucking good.”
You whimper, mouth dropping open as he slowly thrusts into you. “So big,” you whine, eyes squeezing shut before you open them again. Despite your half-hearted complain, you continue wriggling down onto his cock, the hot length spearing into you. Wooyoung grunts, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls back slightly to thrust back in, just a little deeper.
“God, you’re tight, YN,” he sighs through his nose, his voice strained with pleasure. “Your pussy is killing me.” He moves to cradle your ass, lifting you up and down on his cock. His thrusts become more desperate, cock swelling and knot starting to form.
You whimper, hips slowing as you become overwhelmed. Wooyoung continues to thrust up into you, unbothered. “Fuck, it’s not going to fit,” you whisper.
“Just relax, doe,” Wooyoung rumbles, his voice laced with lust. “Let your body adjust. You can take it.” His cock throbs against you, the knot throbbing insistently, demanding entrance.
You bite your lip, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m trying! It’s hard,” you complain.
Wooyoung’s thrusts slow as he pulls you down to kiss you gently. “It’s okay, YN,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soothing. “Just take it one step at a time. Breathe with me.” He takes a deep, steadying breath, nosing against your neck as you follow suit.
Grumbling, you manage to sink a few more inches down. “Stupid wolf knot. How do female wolves manage this every spring?”
Unable to help chuckling, Wooyoung tugs at your ear gently. “They’re used to it, doe. You’re not. But you’re doing great.” His cock twitches inside you, the need making his head spin. “Just a bit more, doe,” he encourages, his grip on your hips tightening.
You grunt, squirming to try and get comfortable. “This is never happening again. Ever.”
Stroking your cheek, Wooyoung hums fondly, nudging your nose with his own. “Yes dear,” he teases, “whatever you say.”
Despite your discomfort, you begin to relax around him, and Wooyoung begins to thrust again, his movements slow and deliberate. “You’re doing great, YN,” he praises, his voice low and appreciative. “Doing so well taking my cock.”
Slowly, painstakingly, you start to sink on his dick again but immediately pull back up. It doesn’t hurt, but just the knowledge of how fat it is makes you hesitate. “You’re practically halfway into my stomach. Are you sure I’m not already taking it all? How much cock do you even have” you whine, trying to stall.
Wooyoung grunts, his thrusts becoming more forceful as he feels your reluctance. Before you can blink, he grabs your hips and pushes you down, impaling you on his cock almost all the way to his knot. “There,” he growls, his voice laced with satisfaction. “Now you’re taking it all.”
Your body jerks as he presses into you, taking his entire length. “Shit, Wooyoung,” you whine. “That was mean.”
Wooyoung chuckles at your complaints. “You asked how much more,” he reminds, his tone light. “And now you know. Now let’s see if we can get my knot in.”
You shake your head half-heartedly, although you already have started grinding down again. “It’s too big,” you whine. “It won’t fit. I’m barely fitting the rest of you in me as is.”
Wooyoung grunts, his thumbs stroking circles on your hips. “Shh, doe,” he murmurs, voice back to being gentle. “It will. Just give it some time.” His cock throbs in you, the knot swollen fully. As he thrusts again, each movement forces the knot further inside you.
Thanks to the slick coating your cunt and his precum, the knot soon pops in and you keen, body tensing and trembling as you collapse against his chest. “You suck,” you gasp, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “I take back my request to spend my heat with you.”
“Don’t be like that, doe.” Wooyoung murmurs, although his eyes crinkle in amusement. “It didn’t hurt, right? You were ready. Now I have you all to myself.”
You grunt, but you know he’s right. And now that he’s fully seated in you, you’re eager for more. “You’ve always had me all to yourself, greedy wolf,” you murmur. “Now are you going to come or not?”
“Always so impatient, doe,” he laughs. “But fine.” Wooyoung pulls you in for a heated kiss, cock throbbing as he grinds impossibly deep. With a low groan, he thrusts again, knot catching on your hole before he plunges back in, sending tingles down your spine. “Ah, YN, so fucking good,” he whispers, pressing kisses to your cheek and neck.
Digging your nails into his shoulder, you whimper. “Come inside me,” you demand, rolling your hips against his. “I want it, Wooyoungie.”
Wooyoung grunts at your words, his movements becoming erratic. “Ah, doe, I’m close,” he rasps, voice hoarse. “God, gonna fill you up till you’re fucking dripping.”
With a final thrust, he buries himself deep within you, his dick pulsing as he comes, head thrown back. You gasp, body shaking as you crest over the edge again, the hot ropes of cum filling you up and making you whimper and sob in ecstasy.
As your pussy clenches around his length, Wooyoung holds you close, stroking your back as he rides out his orgasm. “That’s it,” he murmurs. “Such a good girl for me, doe.” He kisses the top of your head, his heart pounding in his chest.
The two of you lay intertwined for several minutes before you push yourself up, nuzzling into his cheek and pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. “You look pretty,” you mumble shyly.
Wooyoung tightens his hold on you, returning the kiss to your forehead. “Why thank you, YN. You’re not so bad yourself,” he hums, voice softer than you’ve ever heard before. His hand moves to cup your breast, thumbing over your nipple absentmindedly.
You giggle and squirm under his touch. “Stop that. I’m stuck to you until your knot goes down. Don’t I deserve some rest?”
Although he grumbles playfully, Wooyoung strokes your cheek affectionately. “Rest then,” he relents, pulling you onto his chest as he lays back, closing his eyes. The sound of your combined breathing fills the den and it’s not long before you fall asleep.
When you awake, Wooyoung still sleeps, his knot soft. You smile to yourself at the sight and slip off his length and pad over to the corner, picking up the moss blanket to lay over his body. You watch him for a little longer before turning away to prepare some soup, drinking your serving and setting a small bowl by the fire to keep warm for Wooyoung.
Carefully, you tiptoe out of the den to gather some berries. It doesn’t take long, but when you return, Wooyoung is awake and sipping at the soup. “Oh, you’re up,” you beam, setting down the basket and moving close to kiss the top of his head. “I meant to be back before you got up, I’m sorry.”
Wooyoung turns his head as you approach, his ears perking up at the sound of your voice. He sets aside the bowl of soup, reaching out to pull you into his lap. “No need to apologise, YN,” he murmurs, nuzzling into you. “You did well. Though I must say, I missed having you in my bed.” His hands move to caress your sides, brushing over the swell of your chest.
You giggle at the feeling, wriggling in his lap. “You take a wolf’s knot one time and they’re all over you,” you tease. “Silly predator animals.”
Wooyoung growls playfully at your teasing, his teeth grazing your neck. “Careful, doe,” he warns, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Or I might just have to remind you what happens when you challenge a wolf.” He pulls you flush against him, his cock stirring to life once more despite the recent mating.
Leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth, you can’t hold back a huff. “You’d think you’ve got a rut coming up, Wooyoungie. Are we sure it’s my mating season coming up and not yours?”
“Maybe I am, doe,” Wooyoung admits, his voice softening as he cups your face. “Never had a mate before. Guess I don’t know how to control myself around you.”
He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue pushing in eagerly. You melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, I suppose I should be flattered,” you murmur against his lips, “even if you are insatiable. But you can’t fuck me this morning! My ass still aches.”
With a chuckle, Wooyoung breaks the kiss. “Okay, YN,” he promises, his voice gentle. “We’ll put a hold on it. Unless you change your mind.” His hand slides down your side, fingers dipping beneath your thighs to tease the sensitive flesh between them.
You squeak as his fingers circle your clit. “No way in hell. It was hard enough to even walk outside this morning. I can’t deal with it again. Brutish wolf.” Despite your protests, you snuggle closer to him, kissing his cheek.
“As you wish, doe,” he murmurs, his voice playful. “We’ll stick to gentler activities today.” Her captures your lips in another kiss.
Humming contentedly, you enjoy the gentle press of lips. After a few moments, you pull away, gazing up at him. “Could I mark you?” you ask shyly. “I’ll just bite you a little. It won’t hurt, I promise.”
Wooyoung pauses, his gaze meeting yours. A flicker of surprise crosses his features before he schools his expression into neutrality. “Mark me?” he repeats, his voice carefully neutral. “Why do you want to do that, doe?”
Your face flushes further, and you look away. “It’s a deer thing. Makes sure my body will register you as my mating partner. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”
A blush creeps over your cheeks, and Wooyoung stares at it for a moment, his expression softening. “I didn’t say no, YN,” he murmurs, tilting his head to expose his neck. “Do as you please.”
You hesitate, then lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the base of his neck. “Thank you,” you whisper. Then you stink your teeth into his flesh, careful not to break skin. You only hold the bite for a moment before releasing him, lapping lightly at the spot to soothe it. There’s a slight outline of your teeth, and you can’t help the swell of pride in your chest at the sight.
Wooyoung remains still for a few more seconds after you pull away before reaching up to trace the bite mark. “So,” he murmurs. “Does this mean you’re mine now, doe?”
Smiling sweetly, you curl back into his embrace. “Mmhm. It won’t hold for very long, but I can just mark you again when it fades. If you’d like.”
A small smile pulls at Wooyoung’s lips, his hand moving to cup your face. “I’d like that, doe. Very much.” He leans in to peck your lips, the quick kiss lingering before he pulls away. “Wolf mating marks…they’re different. More intense. They leave scars. Yours—deer marks? They’re softer,” he muses, stroking your hair idly.
You nod. “Deer aren’t built for permanent bonds,” you explain. “Our matings are seasonal. Not lifelong.”
There’s a long, pregnant pause before you look up at the wolf shifter. “Would you want a permanent bond? With me?” You’re almost too scared to suggest it, but the softness in his eyes gives you courage.
“A lifetime is a long time, doe,” he murmurs, his voice soft and hesitant. “Are you sure you want to bind yourself with a solitary wolf?” There’s a vulnerability in his voice you haven’t heard before, and you can see the hope in his dark eyes.
“Yes,” you reply simply, without hesitation. “You’re not alone anymore, Wooyoung. Not if you don’t want to be.”
You hesitate, ears folding back slightly as you shift nervously in his lap. “…do you want to be?”
Wooyoung stares into your eyes, searching for something, something you don’t know. But he finds it, letting out a slow exhale and relaxing. “No,” he admits quietly. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. Stay with me, doe. Let me make you mine.”
Unable to help it, you beam, throwing your arms around him and peppering his face with kisses. “Of course I’ll stay,” you murmur. “I love you, Wooyoung. And I’m never letting you go.”
Wooyoung wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close as you shower him with affection. A genuine smile spreads across his face, transforming his usually stern features into something warmer. “And I love you, doe. My beautiful, stubborn deer.”
→ Summary: Your brother has finally come around to the fact that you’re in a “serious” relationship with his best friend. However, that doesn’t stop Jungkook from testing his limits…
↠ jungkook x f.reader | 4.1k words | 18+
↠ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, post-college au, vegas wedding au
→ Warnings: explicit & unprotected sex, fucking in a tiny airplane bathroom, fucking in a pool, getting fingered in an elevator, getting caught by your brother a lotttt, teasing, dirty talk, needy!jungkook, drunk sex, alcohol consumption, hangover symptoms, multiple orgasms, multiple sex scenes, exhibitionism
→ Author Note: the long-awaited second part to Oh, Brother! I hope you all love it as much as I do! Check out all of the installments of The Oh! Chronicles series here! If you want a teaser/spoiler for part three, you should join my personal discord server (I’ll be sharing a snippet soon!) As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated!
The bathroom door opens suddenly, and a pissed-off-looking Jaemin is standing there. His eyes drift to you sitting on the bathroom sink with your dress hiked up, then to Jungkook, standing in between your open, exposed legs, with his jeans loosened around his waist.
Jaemin’s face flushes crimson, the fury unmistakable as his eyes lock onto the scene unfolding before him. His fists clench at his sides, every muscle in his body tensing with barely contained rage.
Across from him, Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, the tension crackling in the air around them.
“Oh, brother….”
𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓…
Jungkook taps incessantly on your shoulder, not stopping until you switch your attention from the view from the small window to him and take out your airpods.
“God, this flight feels like it’s never going to end. How much longer?” Jungkook whines, shifting in the seat next to you.
“We only have an hour left. Suck it up,” you reply, popping your airpods back in and restarting your music.
He gives you that classic puppy-dog face he always uses when he’s not getting enough of your attention.
You sigh, taking them out again. “What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow when he still says nothing. Before he can answer you, the overhead speaker crackles to life as the flight attendant makes an announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we will begin our descent into Las Vegas shortly. Please make any final trips to the lavatories before returning to your seats, fasten your seatbelts, raise your tray tables, and ensure your seat backs are in the upright and locked positions.”
You're headed to Vegas for a post–college graduation celebration for Jaemin, Jungkook, and Jaehyun. It was originally supposed to be a guys’ trip until they found out you were coming. Then, suddenly, everyone invited their girlfriends. You didn’t mind, though. Honestly, you only wanted to come because you didn’t trust Jaemin and Jungkook not to get into another fight.
Jungkook had been unbelievably sweet the first time, he took everything from Jaemin without throwing a single punch back. He knew it was against the bro code to date you, sleep with you, or even think about you. You were so off-limits, yet he couldn’t resist you.
Once Jaemin finally cooled off, he and Jungkook talked things out after a month of silence. Since then, things have been smooth for the most part. Just a couple of minor arguments over dumb stuff, like best friends tend to have.
Still, you can’t shake the feeling that this trip has disaster written all over it. That’s why you were so dead-set on coming along. Jungkook caved first; he’s never been good at saying no to you. Jaemin agreed the next day, realizing that if Jungkook was bringing a girl, then he had an excuse to invite Kira, the girl he’s secretly in love with. And not wanting to be the odd one out, Jaehyun decided to invite his not-so-sneaky link along too.
“Will you come to the bathroom with me?” Jungkook asks, already rising from his seat, clearly expecting you to follow without question.
You blink at him. “What for?”
He doesn’t bother answering, and instead throws a look over his shoulder that makes your stomach flip.
With a sigh, you unbuckle and trail after him toward the back of the plane. He stops outside the lavatory and taps the door, eyes then noticing the small green indicator light that reads Vacant.
Glancing around to make sure no one’s watching, he quickly opens the door and ushers you inside. He slips in after you, locking the door behind him.
You’re immediately squished together, your back nearly hitting the tiny sink.
“What are you doing?” you whisper, annoyed and slightly breathless. “Both of us can’t fit in here.”
“I need you,” he murmurs, eyes dark and intense.
“Now?” you hiss. “You couldn’t wait until we’re in the luxurious king-sized bed that’s waiting for us?”
He leans in, brushing his lips along your neck. “I always need you,” he breathes. “I always want you. I always crave you.”
He presses hot, desperate kisses into your skin, moaning like he’s been touch-starved for days as your fingers tangle in his hair. His breath stutters against your neck when you tug just a little, pulling him closer.
“C’mon,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “Don’t you want to join the Mile High Club? Now’s the perfect chance…”
His hands drift lower, fingers teasing the waistband of your sweatpants with maddening slowness.
You roll your eyes, breath hitching. “And what if we get caught? Then we’re joining the No-Fly List instead.”
But before you can talk yourself out of it, his fingers dip between your thighs, and your argument dies in your throat.
Your back hits the mirror as he kisses you hungrily, all lips and tongue. The cramped space is forgotten the second he slips two fingers inside you, teasing you with shallow thrusts and curling them to hit your sweet spot.
“Jungkook,” you mewl, clutching his shirt to pull him closer, needing more.
“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his fingers now circling your clit, taunting you for what’s to come.
“Please fuck me,” you breathe, eyes glazed. You're already too far gone to care about consequences.
That’s all it takes. In one swift movement, he yanks your pants down, followed by his own. Wasting no time, he buries his thick cock deep inside you.
You bite your lip to keep from crying out as he starts to move, fast and rough, rocking into you over and over. Thank god you’re in the air, where the engines are loud and the small bumps of turbulence cover up any noises coming from the small space you two occupy.
“Oh my god,” you gasp, as he adjusts his hips to a new angle that has you on the verge of coming undone.
Jungkook is mid-thrust when someone starts aggressively knocking on the door.
Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang.
You freeze. He doesn’t.
“Ignore them, baby,” he growls into your ear, voice thick with lust. “I can’t stop now. Not until I come in this sweet little cunt of yours.”
His pace doesn’t falter as he speaks, hips slamming into yours.
“Fuck, I’m so hard for you. You’re dripping for me, so tight and so perfect. You hear that?” he grunts as he bottoms out again. “That wet little pussy’s begging for it. You’re such a cock-hungry slut, look at you.”
You moan, vision blurring, every filthy word driving you closer to the edge.
“I can feel you gripping me,” he pants. “You gonna come, baby? You want me to make you come all over my cock?”
You nod frantically, unable to form words. Everything in you is coiled tight, seconds from unraveling.
Your body arches against him as waves of pleasure crash through you, every nerve lit up, every muscle trembling. You clamp around him, moaning his name as your orgasm rips through you.
Jungkook doesn’t stop. He groans against your neck, fucking you through the aftershocks, his pace stuttering as he loses control.
“Fuck–” he chokes out, hips jerking as he buries himself deep one last time. His release shoots into you in hot, pulsing streaks, his whole body tensing as he moans your name one last time.
When it’s finally over, you gather yourself with a flushed face and shaky hands. Jungkook presses one last kiss to your temple before using some toilet paper to wipe his come that’s leaking out of you. You both try to straighten your clothes in the tiny mirror before unlocking the door to escape.
After opening the door, you’re met by the impatient glare of a teenage girl.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumble, sliding past her quickly. And then your heart drops.
Standing directly behind her, arms crossed and jaw tight, is your brother.
Jaemin stares at you both for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then he mutters, “God, you two act like newlyweds—fucking everywhere all the time.”
You can practically feel Jungkook smirk beside you. Cheeks burning, you drag him back to your aisle before he says something that would escalate the ordeal.
Turning your head back around once seated, you make eye contact with your brother who’s face looks just as pissed off. Like he’s silently calculating whether joining the mile-high version of Fight Club would be worth the federal charges.
The first few nights in Vegas were a blur of flashing lights and endless drinks. You danced until your feet ached and woke up with memories that felt like a dream. Last night was a well-needed break. The group opted for a low-key evening, which involved a quick dinner, a few drinks by the resort pool, and an early night to recharge.
Today, you’re still taking it easy. Lounging in the private pool that wraps around your suite, a hidden oasis high above the Vegas strip. The sun is warm on your skin, the water cool against your lower half as you lean on the edge and take in the view.
You close your eyes, breathing in the stillness, until the balcony door slides open.
“Where is everyone? All the rooms are empty.” Jungkook asks as he steps out, towel slung around his neck, sweat still clinging to his post-gym glow.
You tilt your head toward him without opening your eyes, resting your head on your arms. “Jaemin and Kira went to brunch earlier. And Jaehyun’s taking Sophia shopping as a way to make up for flirting with the hostess last night.”
He chuckles, stripping out of his gym clothes and easing into the water beside you.
“I told everyone we’d meet in the lobby at 10. DJ Johnny doesn’t go on until 11, so we’ve got plenty of time to get to the club.”
He hums in agreement, arms sliding around your waist as he pulls you close. For a moment, the two of you just float there in silence, the city stretching below and the desert sun catching the water in shimmering flecks.
“You look happy,” he says softly, his eyes scanning your face.
“I am happy,” you reply, smiling up at him.
He kisses you lightly at first. It’s sweet and unhurried, like he’s savoring this moment with you. But then it shifts. His lips grow firmer, more insistent. The hand on your waist slides lower, fingers pressing into your hip as his tongue parts your lips. The kiss deepens, turning molten. Your body responds instantly, pressing into him as heat begins to build beneath the surface of your skin.
His mouth trails down your neck as he pushes you gently against the pool’s edge. The water laps around you as his hands roam, exploring you, teasing you beneath the surface. You gasp when his fingers find their way between your thighs, and he smirks against your skin.
“Think you can handle me? I’m fully recharged and overflowing with energy,” you tease with a grin.
“You know the gym doesn’t drain me. If anything, it just pumps me up,” he murmurs, voice low and full of promise as he presses his hard length against you. “Think you can handle me?”
You chuckle, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in for another kiss. He pulls the material of your bathing suit bottoms to the side before thrusting into you, the water adding a slow, gliding rhythm to every thrust. The city sparkles behind him, but you can’t take your eyes off his face.
“I love you,” you moan, breathless, pulling his face back to yours for another scorching kiss. Your lips crash together, tongues tangling, bodies clinging beneath the water like you’re trying to melt into each other.
“Let me show you how much I love you,” Jungkook growls against your mouth.
He grips your waist, lifting you just enough to slip out of you, only to slam back in, hard and deep. The water ripples violently around you as your hips meet with perfect timing repeatedly. You toss your head back with a gasp, eyes fluttering shut.
A low groan escapes him as he watches you come undone. One hand braces behind your back, the other reaches up to tug at the strings tied behind your neck. With a practiced flick, your bikini top slips loose and floats off beside you, forgotten.
His eyes darken as he stares at your bare chest, his mouth instantly descending to taste you. Jungkook leaves hot, wet kisses trailing over sensitive skin as he sucks a nipple between his lips.
You're lost in it, lost in him, until a familiar voice breaks your spell.
“Oh, shit,” Jaemin curses, immediately turning away, hand thrown up to shield his eyes. “What the fuck, you guys? Seriously?!”
You shriek, instinctively trying to cover yourself, but Jungkook barely flinches, holding you firmly against him, knowing that his broad shoulders hide you from your brother’s view.
From inside the suite, Kira peeks out, drawn by Jaemin’s raised voice. Her eyes widen the second she takes in the scene of you straddling Jungkook in the pool, easily able to figure out what you guys are up to.
Moving quickly to Jaemin’s arm with both hands. “Let’s go,” she says brightly, dragging him back toward the suite. “Give them some privacy.”
Jaemin mutters under his breath, still scowling. “Fucking hell. I take it back, you’re worse than newlyweds. At this point, you’re like like fucking horny teenagers.”
He throws a glare over his shoulder. “Jungkook! Don’t make me fuck you up again, bro. I will! Geez!”
“Oh, come on, Jaemin,” Kira laughs, tugging him away before his temper flares. “Don’t be such a cockblock. See you two later!” She shoots you a wink just before disappearing inside, her voice echoing faintly, still teasing Jaemin for his unlucky streak of catching you two.
You make a mental note to buy her a thank-you drink tonight.
But that thought vanishes the second Jungkook thrusts up into you again, dragging you back into the moment. The water splashes around you with every movement, slapping softly against the tiled edges of the pool.
Your head falls back, mouth parted in a silent moan as your body clenches around him again. And this time, there’s no holding back.
You’re not exactly sure how you ended up here.
When you and Jungkook slipped out of the club earlier tonight, ditching your friends in a whirlwind of whispered giggles and stolen touches, you figured it would end in another wild quickie somewhere. And to be fair, it started that way. He had his hands all over you in the back of the taxi, his mouth on your neck as the Strip blurred by.
But then, the car dropped you both off at the far end of Las Vegas Boulevard, where you ran straight into a group of strangers who swore they’d partied with you on your first night in town. Whether they were right or not didn’t really matter; they bought you shots like old friends and kept them coming, one after the other, until the world tilted sideways.
And somehow...you agreed to Jungkook’s crazy idea.
Now you’re standing inside a chapel bathed in neon pink light, next to a man in a bedazzled Elvis costume who smells faintly of old cologne and too much hairspray. Jungkook is holding both of your hands in his, his fingers warm and solid around yours. His grin is so wide it practically splits his face in half, his eyes crinkling with drunken joy as he watches the impersonator read the vows.
“Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Elvis says in a dramatic drawl.
“I do,” Jungkook replies without hesitation, his voice thick with emotion, and maybe tequila. “With my whole heart.”
He slips a thin silver ring onto your finger. One he bought just minutes ago from a display stand outside. It’s slightly too big and also a little tacky, but somehow perfect.
Now it’s your turn. You blink up at him, your heart thudding wildly in your chest.
“I do,” you say softly, biting back a giddy laugh. “With my whole heart.”
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Elvis impersonator declares with flair, throwing out his arms. “You may kiss!”
Jungkook’s hands envelop your face as he kisses you, sealing your fate.
The handful of drunk couples that are waiting for their turn cheer loudly as Jungkook lifts you straight off your feet. You wrap your arms around his neck, squealing as he carries you bridal-style down the narrow aisle and out of the chapel, laughing the whole way.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” you say breathlessly, still laughing as you cup his jaw and guide him into another messy kiss.
“I can’t either,” he says against your lips, eyes shining. “But god, I’m so ridiculously happy right now.”
He sets you down and pulls you close, forehead pressed to yours.
“Mrs. Jeon Jungkook, you make me so fucking happy. I love you, baby. So much.”
You can’t stop smiling and neither can he.
The next morning, your head feels like it’s still spinning. The light bleeding through the hotel curtains is too bright, stabbing straight into your skull. You groan and crack an eye open, trying to piece together where you are, and more importantly, what the hell happened last night.
Bits and pieces flash into your memory.
The pounding bass of the DJ set. Clinking shot glasses. Jungkook’s laughter against your ear, both of you cracking up about something that felt hilarious at the time. Though now you can’t recall a single detail.
You shift beneath the sheets, rubbing your eyes, when something cool and metallic catches your attention.
You pause, blinking.
There’s a ring on your finger.
A ring.
You yank your hand back and jump upright, heart now thudding in your chest like it’s trying to break free. In your sudden panic, your elbow smacks straight into Jungkook’s face.
“Ow! What the–” he groans, rolling onto his side. “Babe, what was that for?”
“Oh my god,” you whisper, scrambling out of bed.
Still half-drunk, half-hungover, and fully spiraling, you make a beeline for the bathroom and immediately hurl the remnants of last night into the toilet.
Your knees hit the cold tile as you clutch the porcelain bowl, your mind spinning even faster than your stomach.
Jungkook is at your side a moment later. Sleepy, shirtless, and concerned, he crouches beside you without saying a word, gently pulling your hair back and rubbing slow, soothing circles across your spine.
“Breathe,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”
Once you’re fairly certain your insides are empty, you lean back on your heels, wiping your mouth with a towel and groaning.
“I feel like death,” you mumble.
“You look beautiful,” Jungkook says with a lazy smile, though his eyes are scanning your face carefully. Searching. Bracing.
He stands, reaching into the shower to turn on the water. Steam starts to fill the bathroom as he undresses and steps inside, then turns to hold out his hand for you.
You hesitate.
Your eyes drop to the ring on your finger again, then flick back to his face.
He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. You can tell he’s watching you closely, reading every micro-expression, seeing if you have any doubt. There’s no trace of regret in his eyes, but there’s a quiet question behind them.
What are you feeling? And are we okay?
You reach for his hand and step in beside him.
You wash up quickly, letting the hot water rinse away the hangover haze clinging to your skin. Feeling clean doesn’t solve everything, but it helps ground you.
After drying off and throwing on fresh clothes, you sit on the edge of the bed and breathe for a moment. Jungkook's quiet, giving you space, but you can still feel his eyes on you.
Then, finally, he breaks the silence.
“C’mon,” he says gently. “Let’s get some breakfast and cure your hangover before you spiral again. I got a text from Jaemin, they’re waiting for us in the lobby if we want to join everyone for brunch.”
You nod, grabbing your phone and purse before the two of you leave the suite and step into the elevator. Oh god…how are you going to tell everyone…
Jungkook speaks again once the elevator doors close. “Well, last night happened.”
You exhale, almost laughing. “Yeah. I guess it did.”
You start picking at your fingernails, nerves creeping in again as the elevator begins its descent. Jungkook notices instantly.
“Hey,” he says, catching your hands in his. “Don’t do that. Don’t second-guess this. I’m happy. Let’s be happy.”
You look up at him. He gives you that soft smile, the one that always manages to settle your heart.
He pulls you into a hug, wrapping you up like he’s trying to shield you from the chaos of the outside world.
“It’s not how I imagined it, not even close,” he says, resting his chin on your shoulder. “But you know what? I love that I get to call you my wife now. I like that I’m your husband.”
He leans back just enough to nuzzle into your cheek, his lips brushing against your skin in a quiet, reassuring gesture.
And for a moment, your worries melt away. Because if nothing else, you’ve got him. And maybe that’s more than enough.
His hand squeezes your waist as the elevator descends, and you feel his fingers trailing lower, skimming the hem of your skirt with intent.
“Jungkook…” you murmur, glancing toward the mirrored walls, but he’s already moving, slipping his hand beneath the fabric like he owns you, because, well, after last night…he kind of does. And you kind of like that.
His fingers find your heat instantly, and your breath catches in your throat.
“So wet already,” he hums against your ear, voice low and dangerous. “You want to get caught, don’t you?”
You press your back against the elevator wall, heart hammering as his thumb begins to circle your clit.
It feels so good that you can barely stand. The pressure is building fast, your thighs trembling as he slides two fingers inside you.
“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he curls them just right.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he says, nipping your earlobe. “Look at yourself. Watch how fucking wrecked you look when I touch you.”
Your gaze finds the mirrored wall. You see your parted lips, the way your chest rises and falls, the dark hunger in Jungkook’s eyes as he watches you unravel.
He moves faster, fucking you with his fingers, thumb pressed tight to your clit.
“Scream my name, baby. Who makes you feel this good? Who makes you come uncontrollably?”
“Jungkook!” you cry out before you can think.
He sinks his teeth into your neck, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you gasp.
“Wrong,” he growls. “Try again.”
“M–my husband,” you stammer, on the verge of falling apart. “My husband makes me come uncontrollably.”
“That’s right,” he whispers, voice thick with pride and lust. “That’s fucking right, wife. Now come all over these fingers. You’ve earned it.”
And you do, trembling, legs barely holding you up, biting down a scream as wave after wave crashes over you.
As the elevator nears the lobby, he slowly pulls his hand from between your thighs, sucking one of his fingers into his mouth like he’s tasting the best thing he's ever had before returning it for more.
“Wow,” you pant, trying to catch your breath. “Being married already has its perks.”
He smirks, using his other hand to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Baby, we haven’t even started collecting the benefits.”
The elevator dings softly as it reaches the lobby, and the doors slide open with an almost theatrical slowness, just in time to reveal a very pissed-off-looking Jaemin standing directly in front of you.
Judging by the way his jaw is clenched and the murderous glare aimed at the two of you, he definitely heard the tail end of that little scene. Probably more.
“You’re married?!” Jaemin’s voice echoes through the lobby, loud enough to turn heads. A few bystanders pause mid-step, curious and mildly entertained by the drama unfolding in front of the elevators.
Thankfully, he hasn’t seemed to notice Jungkook’s hand still slick from where it was between your thighs before he reluctantly slips it away.
Jungkook glances over his shoulder, letting out a sheepish laugh. “Well, the honeymoon’s off to a strong start. Guess your newlyweds joke actually fits now…”
Jaemin takes a slow, threatening step forward and Jungkook tenses beside you, instinctively bracing for whatever’s coming next, whether it’s a punch, a lecture, or both. But when his eyes flick back to yours, and he sees the worry written all over your face, his shoulders square a little more.
genre: romcom-esq, coworkers, smut, a little angst?
rating: M
word count: this part - 7.4k
summary: Better Business Bureau should heap praise upon your decision to hire Kim Mingyu and Jeon Jungkook as bartenders for your Carats Ridge pub, Happy Ending. It’s never slow, beer and liquor always flowing, and the food is good. Your main bartenders bring in the crowds, and you’d praise yourself if you could just keep it professional. Because surely, with how good-looking they are, both of them are fuck boys, right? No matter how much Mingyu’s big brown eyes try to convince you otherwise.
warnings: language, alcohol (obviously), depictions of drunkenness that run the gamut, eventual smut (consensual if in odd venues - more info in the second part), power dynamic imbalance (she is his boss), mc is older than mingyu.
a/n: a humble addition to carats ridge, hosted by @imnotshua, @starlightkyeom, and @100vern. i'm very honored to be a part of it. a quick thank you to @daechwitatamic for reading over it and saying it wasn't terrible. please enjoy the ridiculousness of this mc and the sweetness of mingyu.
dividers from @saradika-graphics
second part soon(ish)!!
Act I
You don't run a saloon, for godssake.
Not that anyone could tell right at this moment. Not with the blaring country music that you didn't even know your audio system could play. You can't fathom the amount of years that have gone by since you last heard "Achy Breaky Heart" in any setting.
You hate how catchy that damn song is.
So this wasn't your choice, despite you being the owner, the manager, the head of everything person (maybe someday you can have a right-hand person - those will be idyllic days) of the pub known as Happy Ending nestled in Carats ridge. You could assert your authority of course, letting your bartenders know that this isn't the vibe you ever want to bring to your business.
But you watch from the door that separates front of house from back of house as said two bartenders, Jungkook and Mingyu hype up the patrons, singing on top of their lungs. Jungkook, often emo extraordinaire—wearing all black, eyeliner, hair constantly falling into his eyes—is defying his aesthetic by wearing cowboy boots (black though naturally) and dancing behind the bar with ease you'd never expect from anyone in cowboy boots.
Mingyu has donned a cowboy hat, which looks ridiculous and makes him even taller. He's laughing as he pours a beer for Seokmin who is standing on the footstep part of the barstool, putting him a foot higher than normal, singing the country hit with the seriousness of an operatic singer closing the show.
Do you even have authority in a situation like this?
You're about to head back to your tiny little office (it was a closet, but you converted the pastoral office into your liquor and other storage—because taking an old church and turning it into a pub was scandalous enough to get people to come visit that official opening day) when Mingyu looks over. He grins, though it could hardly be at you because this man is always smiling. He gestures for you to join them behind the bar.
It's tempting.
He is always tempting.
But you shake your head, forcing a friendly smile to your lips so he knows that it isn't him (it's kinda him, but that's not his fault), before you quickly move away from the festivities for the relative calm and quiet of your office.
The books don't do themselves, sadly.
You're caught up in numbers that need to reconcile (why has the price of tonic water increased?) that you haven't noticed that the music is no longer bright and twangy, it's now gloomy and twangy.
"Hey."
His voice rolls over you, thick and sweet. You take half a second to school your face into being a normal business owner face before you look over at him.
"We okay out there?"
Mingyu takes that as invitation to come in and plop himself on the arm of the only other chair in the room than the one you are currently in. It's an old armchair, faded brocade and a lumpy seat cushion. Sitting on the arm is the more comfortable choice.
"We're fine now. Soonyoung is getting teary, so I asked Kook if he'd switch to something less sad. 'He Stopped Loving Her Today' is not going to keep people here." He pauses for a moment. "We could maybe use a third, but not for an entire shift."
You nod. "I'll fill in until I think we can handle another hire. Someone who doesn't want to work a solid eight hour shift." You do another one of those—I can be totally normal about how you look, hair messy from the hat, clinging to your skin, cheeks flush from the heat of the bar and patrons—smiles. "Thanks."
"Of course, madam boss."
"Do not call me that."
He laughs and says your name, and honestly that's worse.
"I think themed nights would be a hit."
"I'll consider it, Mingyu," you say cautiously. "It's probably overly stubborn of me, but I had a particular vibe in mind when I started this place. Themed nights…were not part of it."
He smirks as he stands up. "A change in plans can be fun, madam boss. Like, instead of holing yourself up in the office on Sunday, your one day off, you could come out with me and Kook and some others for a couple hours at the arcade. Let off some steam?"
You watch him even though you know better. No one does sincerity better than Mingyu. His looks would make a person think he's incapable of being genuine, but if you learned anything in the two years of running this place, and he being part of that, is that Kim Mingyu is a kind person. A thoughtful one.
You sometimes wish he was an arrogant asshole like his handsomeness should indicate.
"I'll think about it."
He pouts. "You're like a parent when you say that. It always means no."
You try not to bristle at his words. He is not only your employee, you're older than him (not that you could be his parent or anything, unless a person is having children at four years old!); a fact you cannot forget despite where your brain goes when you think about him.
"You know you can give me some of the admin stuff to do. I'm a pretty quick study."
God, he's the absolute worst.
"I know. I appreciate that. It's not unmanageable right now. If it ever gets so, I'll—" You make a face at your own words. "—think about it."
His smile is a little defeated, but he nods. "You do that. And like…take a break and come see people out there. They like you, you know. That's one of the reasons they come."
"Not you or Jungkook?" Your dead-pan delivery makes him giggle. Which is stupidly cute.
"Well…you did hire the best bartenders in a hundred mile radius."
"I did. Your incredible genetics have nothing to do with our steady customers."
"Madam boss, you flatter me."
You eye him as scolding-like as you can. He's still grinning, the reddened cheeks likely now from your mild compliment.
"Go on, don't leave Jungkook to wallow in all the admiration by himself."
"Like he's bothered by it," he quips before disappearing out the door and back to the bar. You doubt either man is bothered by the attention, though Jungkook definitely preens more than Mingyu when customers fawn.
Like clockwork, you leave your somewhat quiet and calm office space with twenty minutes until close. If you stare at numbers and lawyer-speak for another minute, you believe your brain might melt.
Front of house is dwindling down. Yes, it's a Saturday night, but it's also Carats Ridge which is not metropolitan in any sense. People have less than a twenty minute walk to their home, or ten minute drive by the two taxis in town. Sometimes you get the stubborn drunk who won't want to leave, but you have a decent relationship with the local force and can get them down here for stronger persuasion quickly.
You start on picking up empty glasses on the tables and various other nooks that patrons seem to find easier than just returning them to the bar. You can stack about five before the precarious nature makes you nervous. Mingyu can stack like twenty. You're sure that has more to do with how tall he is than skill.
"You know," Jungkook comes up behind you, relieving you of those glasses. "The perks of being boss means you don't have to help."
"That's not the kind of boss I ever want to be, Kook," you retort, taking the glasses back and side stepping him toward the bar. "Besides, if I do this, you can handle that." You nod toward the very drunk and sleepy-looking Soonyoung who looks like he's waiting for someone, but keeps teetering before catching his balance.
"He won't leave without Jihoon," Mingyu says as he takes the glasses from you and sets them one by one in the dishwasher behind the bar. "Which is good because I don't think he'd make it home in that state."
You tug off one of the rags over Mingyu's shoulder and start wiping down the back counter, lifting bottles and wiping them down.
"Kook's right. It's our job to clean up."
"Well, with my help, we'll close faster and then I'll get to bed sooner." You grin, looking up at him.
"An exciting Saturday night planned?" he teases and you don't bristle. Perhaps it's the fact that it's late, and you're thinking of taking him up on his offer about the arcade tomorrow.
Maybe you really like how he looks at the end of a shift; hair more frizzy than curly. Smile still bright, but softer from exhaustion. There's a sheen to his skin from the work of the bar.
You wonder how you acquired some of the most beautiful men to tend your pub.
You glance over to see Jungkook ushering Soonyoung and Jihoon out the front door. You turn as he sticks his head out the door to speak to someone before he shuts it and turns the look.
"Floor's mine!" he yells as though anyone wants to sweep and mop. You and Mingyu laugh at the enthusiasm.
"He never gets tired."
"Energizer bunny, that one," you murmur, lifting the bottle of Midori with a wrinkled nose. "Who is drinking this? I have to get more."
"That would be Jun."
"Do I know him?"
"Runs the pet store."
"Ohhh. He seemed more like a Negroni guy."
Mingyu hip-checks you as he moves to the other side of you, placing hot clean glasses on the top shelf (so freaking tall). "He drinks that too. But for whatever reason, he likes Midori on Saturday nights. Over ice."
"Gross."
"How'd you know he likes Negronis?"
You shrug. "People have all kinds of vibes. I pick up on the liquor ones."
"Yeah? That's how you knew I'd like a sour that when you interviewed me?"
"You remember that?" You lift the bottle of Jägermeister. "Jäger Bombs again?"
"Yep, we'll need more Red Bull. And Fireball."
"For?"
"Soonyoung really likes Oatmeal Cookie shots."
"I'm offended that more people don't drink our Guinness."
He laughs. "Purist."
"Speaking of." You set the Jägermeister bottle back down and slip by him to grab a glass and pour yourself a half pint of Guinness.
"For all employees?" Jungkook asks, pleading puppy eyes in full effect. He rests his elbows on the bar, chin in hands. "It'll make doing the floors so much more pleasant."
You don't usually, but again you're feeling a bit more loose tonight. You can feel Mingyu's eyes on you as you pour a 10 year Redbreast Irish whiskey for Jungkook. He whoops and points at you. "The best boss ever!" Before he takes his glass and heads toward the back for the broom and mop.
"For you?" You turn to look and Mingyu. He's refilling the dishwasher (a constant thing tending bar). "We don't have sours on tap."
"Half a pint of Guinness sounds good."
"Really?"
"I can handle a stout." He's pouting and you are delighted.
"Of course you can." You pour him one and hand it over. As he takes it, your fingers touch and you pull away too quickly to be casual.
You are such a mess sometimes.
He doesn't say anything but takes the tiniest sip of the beer. You laugh at the face he makes.
"Come on, I'll make you something you like. Cocktail? Something not too sweet or too strong." You think. "Paloma."
"i wouldn't mind a little sweet."
"Then I'll make it with the grapefruit soda instead of grapefruit juice." You take the barely drank Guinness from him, and set up a quick Paloma for him. He leans his hip against the back bar, watching.
"Why don't you bartend too? You're good at it."
"I don't like people."
"You do so."
You pour the drink and hand it over to him. He sips it. "Good?"
"Really good."
You take the Guinness with you as you slide past him to continue wiping down the bottles. As you take another swallow, you see him glance over, odd look on his face.
"What?"
"That's…that's the one I was drinking."
Your face heats, but you shrug quickly. "Can't waste Guinness. It's against my religion."
He laughs before leaving the bar to gather the few plates and non-glasses to take to the back. You look at the Guinness.
It's not that weird, right? It's not like you have the biggest crush on someone who works for you and drinking from his glass is the closest you'll ever get to kissing him.
It's not like that.
The rest of closing runs smoothly, perhaps too well as you succumb and let Jungkook have another two fingers of whiskey. The man is thrilled.
"I'll lock up," you say when the floor is clean, still damp from the mop, the counters no longer sticky, and the lights all off but the emergency ones. You note that both your employees are heading to the front door and not the back. "Mingyu…"
He turns back to you as Jungkook opens the front door.
"What is it, madam boss?"
You open your mouth to tell him that you will meet them at the arcade tomorrow, but then you notice that Jungkook went out the front door for a very specific reason.
Waiting, laughing and looking more beautiful than you will ever pull off, are two women, dressed much more in line with a proper nightclub than a pub like yours.
"Hurry up, Gyu!" Jungkook calls, and the two women echo him. It strikes you, not unlike the anvil in classic cartoons, that Mingyu has someone waiting for him; to be social, to flirt, to most likely sleep with him.
He probably asked you to the arcade out of pity. You don't scream 'social butterfly'.
He says your name when you don't say anything, while you absorb your foolish thoughts and humiliation, even if it's only in your head.
"I, uh, wanted to say thank you about the invite tomorrow. But I can't." You force your eyes from the open door to him. "Go on. Have a good night."
He clicks his tongue, like there's something he wants to say, but the mini crowd outside calls for him again.
"Better get going. Don't want to keep them waiting."
"If you change your mind," he begins, walking backward toward the door, fiddling with his ridiculous cowboy hat. "You'd be welcome."
You nod before letting out a long sigh when the front door is finally closed. You hurry to it and turn the bolt lock. You hear laughter and talking on the other side. It's life, fun and social and interesting.
You push away from the door, latching the chain and knob lock. You walk toward your office and the back door, setting the alarm before you exit.
It's not like you plan it. You mean to run your errands in the main part of town, at least not hole yourself up in the office like Mingyu accused you of. Groceries, odds and ends for the week ahead. Maybe even the bookstore for something to take your mind off everything.
The bookstore, a couple doors down from the arcade.
You don't think you could lie to yourself so well, but you can. You definitely could have taken a different path through town to get to The Bookery. But here you are, walking oh so normally past the arcade in the early afternoon on Sunday.
You hear his laugh, and Jungkook's 'die!' with delight. There are other laughs and shouts above the din of digital game music and crashing sounds.
You allow yourself one look over through the open doors. It's too dark to see much, the lights from all the games and consoles disturb any sort of clear visual.
You turn back to the sidewalk. Just as well.
You're well past the arcade, and you can see the bookstore on the corner when you hear it.
Your name.
In his voice.
You keep walking because you're sure you've lost your mind some time in the recent past, and maybe you're just hearing him now.
But then he runs in front of you, halting your path toward the bookstore.
"Hey." He accentuates that greeting with a run of his hand through his hair. He looks so good, you want to shut your eyes and pretend he's not there. Black jeans, white t-shirt, so simple and yet so hot.
"Hello Mingyu, bye Mingyu," you stutter out, trying to go around him. He grabs your arm and you freeze. It's not like working in close quarters means you have no contact with him. But it's minimal. Professional.
It's not his whole hand encircling your forearm.
"Hey, where you off to in such a hurry? Come play skeeball with me?" He's grinning down at you, looking perfectly relaxed and casual.
"Can't. Sorry." You try and tug away, but he doesn't let go. His smile falls and he ducks his head to look more closely at you.
"You can't spare one game?"
"I need to go. I don't…"
His face is nearer than it needs to be. He knows the power of those big brown eyes, that slight pout.
It's so entirely frustrating.
"I don't have time to spend with my employees." You pull back so hard you dislodge yourself from his hold and he stumbles, eyes widening at your rising voice. "Okay? I don't know why you want me to hang out. It's not like you're lacking in company. I see the women you and Jungkook take home. You don't need your employer hindering your conquests."
"What are you talking about?"
It's exasperating, how naive and clueless he seems. How stupidly sweet and beautiful he always is.
"I don't want to hang around a fuckboy, alright?"
You don't mean to say it. You really don't. You actually pride yourself on filtering your thoughts before they come out of your mouth.
You wish you could take it back. The moment you see him half-laugh without joy, like he's bewildered by your words. A shake of his head.
And then quiet.
"Okay." His voice is whisper-soft, but you can still hear it among the passing cars, and talking behind you. "Yeah. Okay." He walks around you, hands tucked into his pockets.
You force yourself to not watch him, but continue on your way. You walk brusquely and enter the Bookery with a decided air.
Jeonghan, who works there nearly every day looks up. "Welcome—"
And you sit right down on the floor.
Mingyu only works Wednesday through Saturday at the pub, which in some ways is great. You get a breather from his presence, how he makes you think both endearing and naughty things. It's not great because you continue to relive the argument you had with him outside the arcade.
You wanted to talk to someone about it. But you're weren't kidding about not really liking people. These past two years have been spent starting up the pub and making sure it's a profitable venture, which leaves little time in which to be social outside of work. You know those who come in for a drink on the regular (Carats Ridge isn't a big town after all), the cooks in the pub kitchen, and your bartenders.
Jeonghan at the bookstore, was kind enough when you first came in, but when you tried to explain what had happened, he looked amused and annoyed (he can do both simultaneously very well).
"No one wants to be called a fuckboy, not even actual fuckboys."
"I know, it's stupid. I was so frustrated that he wouldn't just let me be and—"
"He's not, by the way."
You stare at Jeonghan for far longer than socially acceptable. "What?"
"Mingyu. He's not a fuckboy."
"I—"
"Jungkook is. Like completely. Festival season for him is like Halloween for kids." He shrugs as he straightens up one of the genre tables.
"But they're friends."
"Are you exactly like your friends?"
The question is perfectly understandable, but it reminds you again that you have spent the last two years much more focused on work than play.
"Point."
"Okay then. Now if you're not going to buy or turn in anything for credit, go…do whatever it is you do on a Sunday."
Charming to the last.
You're nervous once Wednesday comes around. You haven't received any communication from Mingyu, though that is not unusual. You don't talk outside of work, no matter how often he tries to get to you to do anything social.
But the lack of interaction makes you jittery.
You're in the store room, checking inventory when you hear the back door open. It's Jungkook chatting and you tune out his words, though you're listening for a second voice.
You don't hear it.
"Hey!" Jungkook pops his head in. "Need a hand?"
"I'm good." You glance at him, looking for the taller. "Mingyu with you?"
"Yeah, he's already prepping at the bar. Have fun." He laughs, carefree as always and leaves, disappearing toward front of house.
So Mingyu is here, but didn't greet you.
No big deal. He might not have noticed you in here, or didn't feel friendly today. It's not a requirement, of course, that they greet you.
It's just he always has.
You keep taking inventory, marking down what seems to be getting used the fastest and start toward your office. But you detour to the front.
No reason.
You push through the employees-only door to see Jungkook moving the chairs off the tables as Mingyu slices up fruit and vege for garnish.
He glances up when the door closes with a swish. Eyes meet and you watch as no smile graces his lips, nor do his eyes sparkle.
He nods in greeting before returning to the cutting of limes.
"All good?" you ask, wincing at how your voice sounds. It's a little shaky. Maybe that's exhaustion from moving bottles for the last hour.
Sure.
"All good."
There is no 'madam boss' or even your name.
Jungkook sees you. "Need anything?"
"No, um, no. Just know that the Red Bull shipment hasn't come in yet, so yager bombs might be a no go after awhile."
"Got it." Cheerful, always cheerful JK. The brief time you spoke, you 've watched Mingyu, who never changes rhythm.
"Heard." Mingyu nods again, but doesn't look up.
You really don't have a reason to stay out here, so you turn and head to your office, with inventory sheet in hand.
Logically, it could be anything. Even Mingyu can have bad days. But except for one or two that you can think of…he's never been like this.
It's definitely your fault.
You should apologize. Obviously. That's the thing to do.
But, you think as you sit at your little metal desk with the big dent in the side from a wayward keg, is that a good idea? You've spent these last two years attempting to put boundaries in place between you and your employees. You've been a manager before, but not an owner. You want to be friendly those who work for you, but you know the consequences of lines being crossed.
If Mingyu keeps his distance from you, isn't that better? That way you aren't as affected by his kindness, humor, and sizzling charisma. Better to have him treat you professionally.
Even if you really should apologize.
You spend most of the evening in your office, working through some ideas, some numbers, and general bills. Wednesday nights aren't known as a hopping night for the pub. Tuesdays are trivia, Thursdays—ladies night, and of course the 'it's the weekend' vibes for Friday and Saturday.
You have yet to figure out anything to do with Wednesday nights.
You can hear Mingyu's plea for themed nights in your head and you shake it, as though that can rid you of him.
You cover your face with your hands, groaning at yourself. A contradiction in every way. You want him, but you don't. You like him, but he frustrates you.
God, you annoy yourself.
You groan again before letting your head fall to the desk with a light thud.
"You okay?"
You look up, half-convinced maybe you imagined his voice because he's always in your mind. But no, there he is, at your door, looking concerned.
He dressed simple tonight. Black t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. You will yourself not to take any more stock of his appearance.
"Yeah, of course," you say, straightening up and standing quickly at his presence. He nods, the concern fading until you get the almost blank expression from earlier. "You guys good?"
"Gonna grab a few bottles."
"I can grab them." You move toward him and the door. He doesn't get out of your way.
"I got it. We aren't slammed."
"But—" You look up at him since he isn't moving. "I can help."
"I'm good." Then he moves, stepping back and walking toward the store room. The physical distance feels immense as you watch him go.
Fuck it.
"Mingyu."
He stops at the store room door, looking back.
"I'm sorry."
He tilts his head to the side before walking into the store room when you don't say anything more. You follow, hoping that Jungkook is perfectly fine manning the front without either of you.
Mingyu sticks a bottle of vodka and rum under one arm as he moves to another shelf.
"I'm sorry."
"I heard you." He doesn't even look over at you.
"You don't believe me?"
"I can't say as I do when I'm not really sure what you're apologizing for." The voice is steady, not cold necessarily, but there is a strong lack of his usual warmth.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you on Sunday."
He turns at that, glancing before grabbing another Triple Sec. "Okay."
You know what to say. Why are you being so stubborn about this? Honesty is the best policy, but you don't want to say too much.
He doesn't need to know everything.
You step into his path, right in front of the door so he can't escape easily. You think that, but he could probably shove you aside and not drop a single bottle.
"I'm sorry I yelled. And I'm sorry I called you…" It's embarrassing to even use the word. "That I called you a fuckboy."
He stares for a few seconds, long enough that you get fidgety.
Can he just forgive you?
"What, Mingyu? What else can I say?" That you're obsessed with him, and it's not fair to him because any overture of friendship he makes means too much to you? That his general kindness you're afraid will go to your heart and head?
"Do you really think I'm a fuckboy? Cause i gotta say, that hurts way more than you yelling at me. I can handle you yelling."
There it is. Under the calm voice, and serene face: the hurt. It colors his words, and paints melancholy on his skin.
You wish he was mad. It'd be easier.
"No. I'm sorry. I don't think that. And even if I did, it's not my place to say anything. I'm your boss and—"
"You could be my friend."
It's your turn to stare at him.
"I—I don't know. That can get…dicey."
He frowns. "What do you mean?"
"I'm your boss. And I have the power to fire you. Or make your work life miserable."
"But you wouldn't. I mean, you wouldn't fire me unless I did a fireable offence. Which fair. And you'd have to work really hard to make this job miserable." He takes a step toward you. "I don't see why we can't be friends."
The eyes. The doggamn gorgeous eyes looking at you like you matter. You thank whoever is in charge that Mingyu decided to be a bartender and not a politician. The evil he could have wreaked with that kind of power.
"You make a good argument, Kim."
He smiles now. "Yeah? My folks would love to hear that. They wished I'd gone into law." He shifts one of the bottles and you realize you have definitely held him up for way too long. Shuffling out of the way, you reach for the precariously held Triple Sec. He lets you.
"Come on, madam boss. You can make Jun his Negroni."
As you follow him back to the bar, you don't think that you've actually resolved anything. The unpleasant tension between the two of you, sure. But your one-sided tension, of another nature entirely, is still in full effect.
But he can never know.
You see Jeonghan at the bar when you walk out with Mingyu. He has a small glass of a dark red. You keep a bottle of port just for him.
He lifts his glass when he sees you. With a pointed glance at Mingyu (who is unaware and trying to take the next round of orders), he wriggles his eyebrows once you make eye contact. You shoot him a look, but it's not like he's wrong.
You hope Jeonghan with his weird intuitiveness is the only one who can see how smitten you are.
The next time you're invited out by your bartenders, you say yes. This time it's to the bowling alley for a couple games. Seokmin, Seungkwan, and Soonyoung are also in attendance. You eat obviously once-frozen pizza and drink mediocre beer, but you laugh a lot. You're on a team with Soonyoung and Jungkook; the first who is worse than you are at hitting the pins and the second who makes up for both your and Soonyoung's failures.
The other team, of Seokmin, Seungkwan and Mingyu, are much more evenly matched. Pins are hit and only a few gutter balls.
You're laughing when Seokmin dances chaotically after hitting two pins, like it's a feat of epic proportion. Mingyu plops down next to you, offering you the second beer he holds. You take it, purposely ignoring that your fingers brush his in the exchange.
"Having fun?" he asks, close because the Carats Ridge bowling alley is loud.
You point to your face. "What do you think?" Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You haven't thought about the pub in nearly an hour. That's a record for you.
He grins, tapping your beer glass with his. "It's nice seeing you laugh so much." He leans back in the plastic seat. "Pretty."
Your smile freezes. "What?"
He looks over. "You're pretty when you laugh." He chuckles when you don't say anything. "That can't be new information to you. You're always pretty, but I like it best when you're happy." He doesn't say anymore, but gets up as it's his turn to bowl.
Pretty? He calls you pretty like it's normal?
You take a swig of beer. You won't survive this 'friendship'.
You are sweating. Just down right sweating in not appealing fashion (is there any appealing fashion?). Mingyu laughs at you and your panting.
"It's only one small box."
"It's labeled books, Kim, so fuck you."
It goes to show how much hanging out with Mingyu, Jungkook, Seokmin, Soongyoung, and Seungkwan has loosened you up because you would never say that to someone you employed normally.
But moving Seungkwan into his new loft in Carats Ridge downtown with all of you helping with the absurd amount of stuff he owns changes things. And you aren't weak by any means. Owning a pub means moving boxes of liquor bottles regularly, but that's work.
This is off time and includes stairs.
You loathe stairs, particularly the ones you are traversing right now.
You grumble your entire way up the three flights, all the while Seokmin is excitedly telling a story about fishing or something to Mingyu, and Jungkook is whistling. When you make it again to the apartment, after Mingyu has set down his two boxes (the showoff) he reaches for yours.
You let him. And he winks at you.
Seungkwan is making lemonade in his new kitchen, so you beeline to grab a glass to hide your fluster.
You've been doing so well. You work with him, hang out with him…surely there would be a tolerance built up.
But apparently not.
You do enjoy this change in dynamic. The bowling, the arcade, the coffeeshop, the late nights closing the pub with your friend. You know Jungkook better, too (and yes, Jeonghan was right, he really is a complete fuckboy). You know your patrons better; Soonyoung is chaos, Seokmin is sunshine, and Seungkwan is sass.
You know him better. Mingyu is still the most attractive man you've ever seen, he's still a hard worker. He's still sweet, but now you know that he's sweet to his friends too, not just you. You know that he and Jungkook finish each other's sentences when drunk. That he didn't want to do university because he likes being active and sitting in classrooms was not for him. That as a side gig, he does photography, both artistically and for promotions around town. That he's touchy with those he's cares about; hugs, squeezes of the shoulder and arm.
And that includes you.
"Uhhhh, you finished that glass really quick," Seungkwan says when you pour yourself a bit more. "You thirsty?"
You glance over at the rest of guys trying to figure out how to put together the entertainment center that Seungkwan bought. Soonyoung has ditched his shirt, as has Jungkook. Seokmin tied his around his forehead to catch sweat.
And Mingyu? He's just in a tank, arms all out like it's open season.
"Yeah. Really thirsty."
"Madam boss, come over here. We need your tiny hands!"
You set your glass down with a look at Seungkwan. "Stupidly thirsty."
"Kook and I are finished."
You look up from the spreadsheet on your computer screen. Mingyu is half in your office. He's holding the doorframe with one hand, leaning in like a kid about to go play hooky. You smile even though the spreadsheet does not make you happy.
He does.
"Okay. Just make sure the front is locked. I'll lock up everything else."
He comes all the way in, sitting in his usual spot on the arm of the other chair. "It's almost one am, madam boss."
You mock-glare at him. "I can see that very clearly on my computer screen, Kim Mingyu."
He smirks. "So you won't argue that you should just come with us now?"
"I'm almost done. Go on. I'll see you Wednesday."
He doesn't get up, but pulls out his phone and taps on it.
"Mingyu."
"Madam boss."
"What are you doing?"
"Telling Kook to go on without me. That I'm gonna stay."
You try and send another glare his way, but you doubt it's remotely effective.
"And he's okay with that?"
"See you!" You hear outside your office door before you hear the back exit open and shut.
"Apparently."
"I rarely see you two without the other."
He stands now and comes up to your desk. "Give me something. Something I can do to help."
"This is just bookkeeping."
"Okay. Give me something else then."
You let your chin sit in your hand, looking at him as leans his hands on the edge of your desk. He's clearly as or more exhausted as you are. Saturday nights behind bar are not for the faint of heart.
"You sure?"
"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't."
You take a deep breath and move to grab one of the boxes of papers near your desk chair. You lift it and offer it to him.
"It's dumb work."
"I can handle dumb work."
"I need it in order, chronologically. Divide by vendor, and put it in order by date, oldest at the bottom to most recent."
"You got it." He moves with the box, sitting on the floor, using the other chair as a backrest. You think to offer him your spot, but the computer is here and it wouldn't make much sense.
You go back to numbers on your screen. You fiddle with your browser, putting on some quiet instrumental music. He smiles when it starts to play, glancing at you before going back to the many many papers crammed in that box.
"Mingyu?"
He looks up, surrounded by stacks of papers.
"It's after two am. We should go."
"But I'm not done." The almost-pout is there and you laugh, though it's mostly air with no sound. Your body aches as you stretch when you stand up before saving all your work and shutting down the computer.
"But you've done a lot."
"I could come in on Tuesday? Finish it up?"
"No."
He stands up as well, all six-feet-plus of him. "Why not?"
"Because helping me right now probably put you in overtime. No more."
He opens his mouth to protest, but you continue.
"But thank you. It's a good start."
He makes a face. "You don't have to pay—"
"No. You are not saying that. That's not even an option." You point at him threateningly. "Stop arguing. We need to go."
He huffs a sigh, and you smile at the petulance. You gather you purse, and zip-up hoodie. He pushes his hair back, sliding on a cap backwards and follows you out as you turn off the lights and check the kitchen, then that the store room is locked.
"Check the front?"
"Yep."
You lock your office and he comes back, half-jogging.
"Kook can be trusted. It's locked."
"Have you logged out?"
"I did before I walked into the office." He holds up his hands preemptively. "Don't get mad. I knew I was off the clock."
"I will add it manually when I do payroll." You open the back door and wait for him to walk out.
"You don't—"
"Yes I do."
He waits behind you as you set the alarm and open and shut the door before locking it. He leans against the building as you turn the key.
"It could just be a favor. As a friend."
"I do not ask my friends to help me with work, as a favor." You start toward your car, feeling him keep up with you. "Mingyu, I walk to my car on my own every night you aren't here."
"Don't tell me stuff like that. I'll worry now."
"It's Carats Ridge." You open your car door and toss your purse into the passenger seat before shutting the door and looking up at him.
"Still dangerous."
You roll your eyes and pat him on the chest. "Thank you anyway."
He covers your hand with his, making you still. "You're welcome." He leans down so your faces are nearly the same level. "Text me when you're home?"
"No."
"Stubborn."
"Independent and a full grown adult."
He shakes his head like you're the difficult one. His hand is still over yours on his chest. He squeezes it before straightening up and letting go, so your hand drops to your side, tingling from the prolonged touch. He starts to walk away and you realize something.
"Wait." The parking lot is empty save your car. "Are you walking?"
"It's not far."
"It's kind of cold." And he's wearing a thin jacket. "I'll drive you. Don't argue with me." You open the passenger door you just shut and grab your purse before walking to the other side with it and sliding into the driver's seat. You set your purse in the back behind your seat as he gets in and shut his door.
"You really don't have to."
"Just like you really don't have to help me out with office mess, but here we are." You turn on the car, let it heat up for a bit before putting it in reverse to leave the lot. He gives you his address. "You and Jungkook always carpool?"
"We share a place."
"Oh. That makes more sense." You stop at one of the few stoplights in town even though no one is out at this hour. "How long you two been friends?"
"Kindergarten."
"Wow."
He laughs. "I know. We've seen the best and the worst of each other. Hard to find someone who will put up with you for that long."
"Yeah, cause you're such a trial."
You can feel his eyes on you as you drive. "You've only known me a couple years. I could be a nightmare."
"There's no way. You're way too nice. That nature is inherent. There's no way you've been anything but a sweetheart your whole life."
"You think I'm a sweetheart?"
You turn onto his street as you curse yourself for your careless words. You're exhausted and he's so much easier to talk to when you aren't thinking as hard.
"Yeah. Of course." If you say it confidently, he won't know you messed up. You pull up to the curb, putting the car into park. "Nice apartments."
He undoes his seatbelt before looking over at you. His gaze is thoughtful. Which worries you.
"Go on. Go away so I can go home and sleep."
He doesn't move.
"What?" You force a laugh, like his attention isn't making you nervous. It always does. He leans over, face not far from yours. He's smirking.
"You think I'm a sweetheart."
"We've established this. Now get out of my car."
"But you haven't asked what I think of you."
"I don't want to know."
"You sure?"
You laugh again, jumpy from his nearness. "I'm sure." You push his arm. "Go. I'll see you later."
His lips brush your cheek.
Is that your heartbeat you can hear?
"Okay. See you later." He moves back to open the door.
You press your hand to your cheek like you imagined it. Your brain is too filled with how soft his lips were to notice that he hasn't gotten out of the car yet.
"Hey."
He leansover the middle console, closer than seconds ago.
"Was that crossing a line?"
His voice is barely more than a whisper.
"Um…"
"I should have asked. I'm sorry." The puppy eyes.
"It's okay. You're okay. Just surprised me." You rub your cheek as though it'll keep that feeling there for longer. "We're both tired. It's okay." How many times can you say the word 'okay'? You pat his cheek playfully. "I could kiss you and then it wouldn't be weird?" You're joking.
"Sure."
You weren't serious, you don't think. With him looking at you like that, and how quiet it is in the car. Like you're the only two who exist in this moment.
"Kiss me." There's teasing in his voice. Like he doesn't think you'll do it. It makes you bristle, it makes you stubborn.
You take him by the chin to turn his face to the side before pressing your mouth to his cheek. You feel him tremble, unless that's you. You pull back, his scent overwhelming in the best way.
"See. we're fine." The waver in your voice is less convincing.
He doesn't say anything, but leans in again, carefully, as though giving you time to pull away.
You don't.
His mouth touches yours so lightly, you could pretend it was a dream. But then it lingers, presses harder. His hand cups your face, and you shakily hold on to his forearms as he kisses you again.
"Mingyu." You don't mean to say anything, but it slips out, a sigh of his name. His fingers tighten at the nape of your neck, and you feel his tongue. Obeying the nonverbal request, you open your mouth and he slides in. You revel in how he tastes like he smells; so fucking good.
His other hand cups the other side of your face and he maneuvers you, so the angle of the kiss changes, dives deeper.
Your hand slides along his arm to his shoulder before drawing along his jaw. It's a delightful journey in topography, warmth radiating through his shirt and jacket, firmness of his muscles, slight roughness of minimal beard at his chin. The delicacy of the skin at his neck. This time, you know it's him that shudders. He nips at your bottom lip and you make an desperate sound.
When he draws back, he murmurs. "Good night."
"Night."
He's gone before you've fully opened your eyes. You watch him walk up to the apartments, unlocking the main door and walking in. He looks back at you through the glass door. You think he smiles and waves before disappearing farther into the building.
yunho x reader (afab) / genre: angst, smut, romance. includes: arranged marriage, ceo au, enemies to lovers au / warnings: cursing, alcohol mentions, depictions of manipulative parents / wc: 2.7k [on this chapter] overall fic around 20k. / r: 18+
summary: It was time, you were bound to be a part of the Jeong family. It was a marriage of convenience, and as you meet Yunho, your future husband, you realize this would be a lot more than a battle for power.
a/n: my first chaptered fic. i always wanted to have a story that I could explore and invest time with, thankfully yunho has been a pain in my boot since a few months ago and i had to write this for him. this is an old story to which i only had the first chapter posted in my defunct blog a few years ago, but know i finally got the gears running for a complete story.
hope you enjoy this little angsty ride!
I.
“Easy with the drinks, darling.”
The overly sweet tone of your mother reaches you just as you snagged another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Before she could close the distance, you finish the glass in one gulp. Her smile was condescending as she took the empty glass from your hand.
“Honey, you must be on your best behavior when your fiancé arrives. I'm serious.”
Your sigh in annoyance and defeat.
Ah, yes. How could you forget?
This whole façade was planned around one moment: your first meeting with your future husband: Jeong Yunho. A man you didn’t know personally, but with a reputation that suggested nothing good. You already couldn’t stand him, same as these stupid, endless parties.
These events, whether arranged by your mother or your father's business associates, were always long, suffocating, and utterly boring. What else was there to do but nod through the fake pleasantries, champagne glass in hand? Lately, drinking was the only way to pass the time in this shiny cage your parents called High Society.
“I’m fine, Mom,” you said, wishing a cocktail would materialize in your hand. “Where are the guests of honor, anyway?” You couldn't stop the snarl in your voice as you scanned the room for a waiter.
“Please take this seriously.” She leaned closer, her eyes looking around the room, shooting smiles to people passing by. “This is very important for me… and your father, of course.” The brief pause spoke volumes. “You have to make a good first impression with Mr. Jeong and his son. This is good for you too.”
“For me mom, sure about that?”
You saw the sudden tension in her face as she sighed deeply. At that moment, she looked so old and tired, despite the subtle fixes done to her face and the heavy makeup that she sued to hide any reminders of his old self.
“I’m sorry,” you relented. “Just please don’t bug me about it anymore. It’s enough that I might have to marry a man I don’t even know.”
She chuckled subtly, taking your arm and squeezing it, a gesture that felt more like a restraint. “Honey, you know how hard your father has worked to get us the life we have now. This partnership will finally secure everything he's worked for. Please remember all the sacrifices your father has made for us."
Her words were toxic, threatening, and you felt sickened by the way your own mother decided to present you— like an auction item. She was about to add something else when your father’s booming voice announced his arrival. Your mother released your arm, giving your back a final, decisive pat. The discussion was over.
“My princess! Mr. Jeong and his son are about to arrive. Are you nervous?” he asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.
You smiled, the feeling of disgust settling in your gut. You were about to be traded to a family of crows, and you knew well that they didn't truly like or even respect your family.
“Yes, Dad. Thrilled.”
Your mom shot you an irritated look, but he didn’t notice. He wrapped his arm around her waist and steered her away, leaving you with your own thoughts, that right now revolved around someone specifically.
Jeong Yunho and his family of crows.
The Jeong heir had a reputation, whispered in rumors and confirmed by practically every privileged kid in the city. You could swear it echoed across the entire country.
Yunho was around your age, but he never attended real parties; the ones your rich friends threw; not the stiff pretentious montages your parents and their associates loved. According to the rumors, the young heir of Jeong Co. believed he was something closer to a king, and everyone around him was there to serve him. Soon, that would include you and your family.
The Jeongs, like everyone in their exclusive circle, were well aware of how your father had made his fortune over the last decade. He had started as a middle-class man and worked his way up with effort and sacrifice. A few years ago, a good investment finally paid off, giving him a status and profile your family had never known. For the Jeongs and your father’s partners, your family were the classic "new-rich"— not part of the authentic royalty his associates were accustomed to.
Now, you remembered fondly the modest house you used to live in, playing with neighbor kids, attending public school and being a normal kid. Now, you have to maintain a polished image, learn to navigate high society, and marry the son of a business partner to solidify the family’s name. You hated it all, but you wouldn't hurt your father or ruin what he’d worked so hard to get. So you accepted it, even if you felt you had every right to hate it.
Keeping yourself out of trouble has been hard. After a lifetime of freedom, having to behave a certain way felt claustrophobic. All the money wasn't worth the loss of being yourself, of doing the things you loved. Watching your mother's drastic shift;her embrace of sudden wealth and power was the hardest part. Greed was all you saw in her now, growing with every closed deal.
It became significantly harder to ignore your discomfort when she told you he was the one: the arrogant prince. Nonetheless, you complied with your parents’ wishes and accepted the meeting. It´s not like you had a choice anyways.
Now, feeling suffocated, you scanned the hall again, desperate for air to drown your anxiety and annoyance. That’s when you spotted your friend Jongho, leaning against the bar counter, ordering a drink as usual.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were also forced to come,” you greeted him, taking the stool next to him.
“Hey!,” Jongho smiled back, signaling the bartender for an extra glass of whatever he'd just ordered. “I’m here against my will, too. Might as well take advantage of the bar.”
Jongho was pretty much the only guy your age who wasn’t a pretentious snake, and the only person you genuinely liked talking to.
The bartender placed the two drinks. After a quick clink of glasses, you both drank it in one shot.
“One more!” Jongho winked at the bartender.
“Easy, tiger, isn’t your father here?” you asked, glancing around looking for Mr. Choi. Jongho looked quite tipsy already.
“I don’t care. He threatened to disown me if I didn´t comply, so he’ll have to assume the consequences.” He giggled.
Of course, Jongho didn’t care. His father was one of the richest man here; Jongho’s recklessness wouldn't affect his standing in the slightest. You briefly wished your parents had arranged your marriage with Jongho instead. That would have been amusing for both of you.
“Is the king here yet?” Jongho mocked. He was the only one who knew about your impending contract with the Jeong family.
“Very funny,” you replied dryly. “Still unconfirmed. Maybe he'll see me and declare I’m unworthy. I actually wish that would happen. Maybe my parents would finally have to leave me alone.”
“Well, we’re about to find out,” he said, nodding towards the entrance.
You turned in the direction Jongho indicated and saw Jeong Yunho and his father finally arriving. They looked like an Armani ad, not a hair out of place, suits perfectly tailored. You hated to admit it, but they did stand out.
You watch as they greet people, walking toward the center of the hall. Yunho smiled brightly, radiating class. Practically everyone in the hall turned to see him, whispering and the younger ones even giggling. Clearly, the rumor of your probable marriage hadn't spread yet, or they would be looking at you, too. Before you noticed, they were standing beside your parents. The drag-you-over moment was imminent.
“I’m gonna need this,” you said, finishing your drink.
“Good luck, soldier,” Jongho smiled, doing the same.
You decided to avoid the embarrassment of your parents having to hunt you down. You walked towards them, trying to keep your posture straight and relax your face so your discomfort wasn't obvious.
The bright smile on Yunho’s face faded slowly as you approached. Both he and his father offered a stoic, reserved expression, making it impossible to read their thoughts.
“Ah, my princess!” your father chirped, beaming from ear to ear. He introduced you to the Jeongs. With annoyance you watched them subtly mock at the nickname your father used for you.
They forced polite but minimal smiles at you. It made you feel worse than you’d imagined, and it was comical that your father didn't notice. Your mother did, you were sure, but she was an expert at ignoring anything that threatened her ambition.
After a few more strained formalities, Mr. Jeong and your parents left to continue their business talk with others, leaving you and Yunho alone to, in your father’s words, ‘get to know each other.’ You stood there awkwardly as people continued to greet Yunho. Your eyes sought comfort elsewhere. You found Jongho, still at the counter, now chatting animatedly with the bartender. He sure is quick, you thought, shaking your head.
“Come with me.”
Yunho’s calm but commanding voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He offered you his arm. After a moment of hesitation, you intertwined your arm with his. He guided you through the crowd, nodding and smiling to everyone. Now, everyone was definitely whispering about you as he led you to the back of the hall, entering a separate room and closing the door behind you.
The room was a large study: books lined the walls, and a beautiful, wood-crafted desk was neatly arranged with business stationery. As soon as the door clicked shut, he walked to the window and opened it slightly. A chill breeze entered the room, making you shiver in your thin dress. Yunho had his back to you and didn’t turn as he finally spoke.
“You could have at least tried not to look so disgusted.”
Your eyes flew open in disbelief. His words were as bitter as the look in his eyes when you’d approached moments before.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he answered calmly, turning to face you. His face was blank, his hands resting in his pockets. The infuriating straightness of his posture made you want to throw something at him. “If we’re going to do this, you need to learn how to put on a mask,” he continued, his tone unbothered.
“A mask?” You arched your eyebrows, crossing your arms. “I don’t need a guide on how to behave, and certainly not from you.”
Yunho sat on the arm of the leather chair beside him, his fingers now laced together on his thighs.
“I´m not so sure about that.” A sudden, sharp pinch hit your chest. “I can smell you’ve been drinking,” he continued calmly. “We don’t come to these events to get wasted. That’s a habit I don’t want to assume you are used to.” He dismissed your obvious annoyance.
You took a deep breath, fighting for composure. “Listen, I’m not happy about this either. For all I care, you can tell my parents you don’t want to marry me, and we can end this fiasco before it even starts.”
“Who told you I don’t want to marry you?” Yunho arched an eyebrow. You didn't respond, and he continued. “We have to. It’s business. I don’t expect you to be the perfect wife, due to your background. But at least I need you to behave when we’re out in events like this.”
“My background?!”
“Yes, your background,” he asserted, stating the obvious truth. “As I said, I expect nothing more than a well-mannered, good-looking wife. There’s no turning back from this, so we better set things clear now.”
You pressed your lips together to stop saying something you might regret later. The anger was a burning flush over your body. Your mother’s words echoed in your mind: this is for your own good.
“Very well,” you finally said, relaxing your posture. “I’ll accept this because I owe it to my parents. I couldn’t care less about you or your family, but for them, I will move forward. But know one thing: I will wipe that expression off your face,” you spat without breaking eye contact. “So save that air of greatness for someone else.”
Yunho’s face muscles tensed. He disliked what you said, but didn't rise to the bait. He took a few steps closer until he was directly in front of you, looking down, mostly due to the difference in height between you. Even so, you kept your eyes firm on his, refusing to concede.
“Be careful what you choose to say,” he warned. You scoffed, looking away. His gaze felt dense and heavy. “Let’s go. We better not make people start to gossip.”
Yunho extended his arm again. You took it, following him out of the room, forcing a faint smile for the people's curious looks. Everything felt heavy; your head spun, anxiety building in your chest.
Soon, you were beside your parents again. Your father’s delighted smile made your stomach clench. Across the hall, you spotted Jongho looking at you with a worried expression. He signaled towards the exit door. You quickly nodded, letting him know you understood.
Yunho began talking to your parents as if the two of you had just had an awkward but friendly conversation.
“Excuse me, I’ll be back in a moment,” you announced, unwrapping your arm from Yunho’s. Only your mother and Yunho noticed you tense up as you gave a slight nod and nearly ran toward the main door, desperate to find air and escape the suffocating feeling.
“What happened?” Jongho’s tone was worried but laced with curiosity once he met you outside. You looked like the ghost of the girl he’d been talking to moments ago.
Outside, you could finally breathe. The sudden breeze made you shiver, a stark contrast to the burning heat you felt inside. You couldn’t tell if it was the boiling rage Yunho sparked or the stuffiness of the crowded hall. Probably both.
Jongho noticed your trembling and quickly took off his suit jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders.
“Thanks,” you managed.
“Are you okay?” he inquired, guiding you to sit on the edge of a wooden bench.
You nodded, took a deep breath, and began telling Jongho about your brief, yet entirely revealing, first encounter with your soon-to-be-husband.
“What an asshole!” he growled when you finished.
“I need another drink, better said some drinks,” you announced, rubbing your temple. The headache was coming.
“You mean we need a drink,” Jongho scoffed. “I can’t believe he told you that. I mean, what the hell!”
You chuckled, appreciating the gesture of your friend taking offense on your behalf. The immediate rush of anger began to fade, replaced by a dull, persistent resentment.
“Let’s head up to my house,” you announced, getting up from the bench. “I want to change clothes, and then we can hit up Yasu’s pub. Always open for us, right?”
Yasu’s old pub had become your mandatory escape, conveniently located just a few blocks from Jongho’s apartment, perfect for the nights when returning home to your mother's nagging was not an option.
“Woman, you know me too well,” Jongho said, offering you his arm. The gesture felt entirely different coming from him. “Care to let them know?” he asked, signaling the valet for his car.
“Nope.”
Moments later, you hopped into Jongho’s car. On the way, you reconsidered and sent a quick text to your mom, letting her know you didn’t feel well and were going home. Before she could reply, you turned off your phone, not caring what the Jeongs would think when they realized you weren't coming back.
“To Yasu’s! Let’s get wasted and not give a fuck, at least for tonight.” Jongho shouted as he hit the pedal.
“Here’s to not giving a fuck!” You shouted back.
.
.
.
Sipping on his whiskey, Jeong Yunho stood behind the glass panels of the hall’s balcony, watching as you jumped into Choi Jongho’s car, his jacket draped over your shoulders. A bitter grin drew across his face. He already discovered dealing with you wouldn’t be as easy as he’d wanted or expected.
next >
@mingsolo please don´t repost/translate to other sites
