synopsis: your dating history had been nothing but bad sex and even worse goodbyes. he showed you a patience and certainty that silenced every doubt, proving that you weren’t hard to love; you’d been loved by him all along.
wc: 10.5k
warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content | oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, dom!mingyu, sub!reader, soft power play, heavy praise kink, multiple orgasms | best friends to lovers, swearing, fluff, aftercare.
authors note: i’ve been wanting to post a mingyu fic for ages now, and as i was going through some of my older fics, this one gave me insane mingyu energy and i had no other choice but to rewrite it for him! this is a rewrite of my fic ‘tears’, and yes, the plot is based on the sabrina carpenter song! i hope that you all enjoy this as much as i do, and as always, please feel free to let me know what you think! ♡
you weren’t heartbroken; that would’ve implied there was something left to break.
you’d been on dates.
enough of them to know when there wouldn't be a second one before the drinks even hit the table.
enough to hear the same compliments repeated back to you like a script.
enough to recognize the tone men used when they were trying to impress you without actually learning anything real.
you’d slept with some of them, too.
sometimes because you wanted to. sometimes because you were desperate for relief. sometimes just to prove to yourself that you could still feel something, even if it didn’t last.
you weren’t bitter. you didn’t walk around openly hating men or rolling your eyes at every couple on the street.
you just didn’t have it in you anymore.
the hope. the performance. the energy it took to pretend someone’s bare minimum was enough.
so when you got home from yet another date that left you completely drained, you didn’t even bother with the lights.
you left your bag by the door, kicked your shoes aside, and sank onto the kitchen floor with a box of cookies at your side.
you weren’t heartbroken. you weren’t even sad. it was quieter than that; almost like resignation.
maybe it wasn’t that love never came; maybe it was that you were never the kind of person people stayed for.
being alone didn’t scare you.
what scared you was how much work it always seemed to take to avoid it.
every man felt like a mirror you kept wiping down, but no matter how clean you made it, the image was never your own.
it was smudged with their ego, clouded by their expectations, and warped by the way they looked at you like you were a puzzle they were entitled to solve.
you were tired of carving yourself down. of softening your edges. of apologizing for being too much or not enough.
tired of folding yourself smaller and smaller until there was nothing left of you at all, except whatever version might finally be enough to make someone stay.
your phone buzzed against the counter, a small sound that cut through the stillness and broke the spiral of your thoughts.
you kept your focus on the cookies in your lap, thumb working over the cardboard as though the solution to all of your problems might appear if you traced it long enough.
until it buzzed again. then again. and again.
you let out a weary sigh and reached for the phone, answering blindly, not bothering to see who it was before lifting it to your ear.
mostly because you already knew who was on the other end of the line.
“hi,” you said, voice low and a little scratchy from disuse.
“you sound like shit,” mingyu replied, warm and easy.
you smiled without meaning to. “thanks.”
fabric shifted on his end, a soft thud like he was throwing himself deeper into a couch.
“you didn’t text me today,” he spoke, not accusing, just noticing.
“mm,” you agreed quietly. “didn’t really feel like it.”
a quiet hum of understanding slipped out before his voice turned lighter. “hold on. didn’t you have that date tonight? with moustache guy?”
you shut your eyes. “unfortunately.”
“so…how bad was it?” he asked, already seeming to know the answer.
your head tipped back against the cupboard, the cool surface steadying you for a moment. “he called me dramatic,” you muttered, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“ouch.” he made the sound like a real wince. “what’d you do, insult his shirt?”
despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “no. i just didn’t want to sleep with him.”
the quiet that followed was brief, but you felt it; he was biting back his first thought and thinking of something more appropriate to say.
“ah,” he said finally, voice dry. “god forbid you make a decision about your own body.”
you snorted, the sound sharp in your throat. “right? how dare i.”
“so you blocked him?” he asked, though it sounded more like certainty than a question.
“while he was walking me home,” you admitted, reaching into the box for another stale cookie.
his laugh rolled through the receiver, low and warm. “brutal and efficient…i respect it.”
the sound pulled a laugh out of you too, small and worn around the edges, before it faded back into quiet.
his voice softened in the pause. “you doing okay, though?”
you hesitated, not because you didn’t want to tell him, but because you couldn’t figure out how to shape the heaviness in your chest into words.
“i’m tired,” you said at last, the words too small for what you actually meant. “not just tonight, though. it’s the kind of tired that sleep doesn’t fix.”
“mm,” his agreement was soft, a sound that told you he knew exactly what that felt like, and that he’d been there more times than he could count.
his breathing stayed steady in your ear, present in a way that made the silence feel less empty.
“how did you even know it went badly?” the question slipped out before you could stop it.
“because you picked up,” he answered simply, as if that explained everything.
you frowned at the ceiling, not satisfied. “that doesn’t even make sense.”
there was movement on his end again, the soft rustle of fabric and a dull thud in the background, though his voice never faltered.
“you never pick up during good dates,” he reasoned. a pause stretched, just long enough for the smile in his voice to be obvious. “not that you’ve ever actually had one.”
your mouth fell open, half offended, half amused. “you are such an asshole.”
“tell me i’m wrong,” the grin in his voice was obvious, even without seeing his face.
you opened your mouth, ready to argue, but nothing came out. you knew he was right.
“yeah. that’s what i thought,” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction.
“you’re insufferable,” you muttered.
“and correct,” he shot back without missing a beat, the faint shuffle of noise still bleeding through the line.
you squinted, suspicion tugging. “seriously, what are you doing? it sounds like you’re losing a fight with your furniture.”
“i’m coming over,” he said easily, the kind of casual certainty that came from years of getting away with it.
“gyu—” you started, fully ready to argue with him.
“don’t even start,” he cut in. “you’re not winning this one.”
“you don’t have to come,” you mumbled, curling tighter on the kitchen floor. “my apartment is a disaster, and i look like i’ve been hit by a bus.”
“cool,” he said, not missing a beat. “and?”
you blinked. “and i don’t want you to see me like this?”
his laugh slipped through, low and amused. “please. i’ve seen worse. like that night you got super wasted, missed the bathroom stall completely, and made me hold your hair while you cried into the toilet about how you were ‘too pretty to suffer like this.’”
you let out a dramatic groan, dragging your palm down your face. “you swore you’d never bring that up again.”
“i lied,” he said, sounding far too pleased with himself. “messy hair and a graveyard of takeout boxes don’t even crack your top ten. i’ve watched you full-body sob during tangled.”
“that was emotional,” you defended.
“it was,” he agreed easily. “your eyes were swollen for hours afterwards.”
“you’re actually unbearable,” you muttered.
“maybe,” he said lightly, “but i’m still coming over. you don’t get to argue with me about it, either. i’m already out of the house.”
you shook your head, pressing the phone tighter to your ear. “this feels like harassment.”
his laugh came easy, smug enough to make your chest tighten in spite of yourself. “yeah, yeah. file a complaint when i get there. i’ll see you in ten.”
he ended the call before you could get another word in.
you stayed on the floor a little longer, the kitchen tiles cool against your legs.
your bra strap had slipped down your arm, the dress from earlier felt too tight, and the lingering scent of ramen from your date was starting to make your stomach turn.
eventually, you peeled yourself off of the floor and padded toward your bedroom, tugging at zippers and straps as you walked.
you made it to your room without bothering to flick on the light.
the soft outline of mingyu’s hoodie was easy to spot in the dark, still draped over your desk chair like it had been waiting for you.
you slipped it on and tugged a pair of cotton shorts from the drawer without bothering to check which ones they were.
you were already turning back towards the kitchen before you’d fully registered the choice; like your body had already decided for you.
the only light came from the lamp in the living room and the soft glow above the stove, casting a dim warmth over the mess you said you’d clean hours ago.
piled up boxes. dirty dishes. the garbage you should have changed yesterday.
none of it was catastrophic; just enough to be annoying.
you lingered in the doorway, taking it all in. like maybe, if you stared hard enough, the mess would clean itself.
you thought about moving. picking up a box, rinsing a dish, doing the bare minimum to prove that you weren't completely useless.
you stood there long enough to accept it wasn't going to happen.
you couldn't help but laugh at how pathetic it all felt.
it was a five minute job at best, yet you still allowed yourself to sink back down to the floor, because avoidance had always came easier than effort.
the apartment was quiet for all of thirty seconds before his voice crashed through it, loud and certain, like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to make an entrance.
“yo,” mingyu called out. “sorry i’m late—traffic was actual hell, and your street is like a one-way to satan. also,” he paused, mostly for dramatic effect, “i brought some noodles and that weird mango drink you like. worship me accordingly.”
you leaned off the cupboards to glance toward the entrance. “you’re not late,” you said flatly. “i told you not to come.”
“and yet,” he replied, already kicking off his shoes. “here i am.”
he crouched down to fix them; heel to toe, perfectly aligned with yours like it was second nature.
it was just shoes. nothing more.
except most men you’d gone out with would’ve kicked them halfway across the floor, expecting you to deal with it later.
the care he gave to something so small shouldn’t have meant anything, but the heat that flickered low in your stomach said otherwise.
you dismissed it just as quickly as it came, telling yourself it was just the bad date making scraps of effort look bigger than they actually were.
with a groan, you tipped onto your back, landing against the tile with a quiet thud. one arm draped across your eyes, the other one splayed out like you’d officially given up. “god, you're annoying.”
“love you too,” he muttered, easing the bags onto the counter, careful not to knock over the leaning tower of unopened mail.
he turned and pulled the fridge open with one hand, already bracing himself. “wow. shredded cheese, expired oat milk, and…ranch? you’ve really outdone yourself.”
“oh my god,” you peeked out from under your arm to glare at him. “i literally had ramen earlier.”
he glanced at the takeout container still sitting on the counter; unopened and untouched.
“that from your date?” he asked, already tugging off the lid. “what, was the guy’s moustache so gross you lost your appetite?”
“can you not,” you sighed, laughter sneaking into your voice despite your best efforts.
he barely reacted. “you didn’t even eat this. the broth has a film.”
you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to argue. “stop inspecting my trash like a raccoon.”
“stop living like a raccoon,” he shot back. “and sit up. this is getting depressing.”
“no,” you said. “maybe i like the floor.”
“my bad,” he said, stepping over you without hesitation. “i’ll leave you two alone, then.”
he picked up your container of ramen you'd abandoned on the counter, emptied the broth into the sink, and scraped the noodles into the trash.
there was no hesitation. no second thought.
only quick, deliberate movements carried out with the kind of ease that came from knowing exactly what needed to be done.
if it were up to you, the container would have gone straight into the trash, broth and all.
yet for some reason, it stayed in his hands.
he held it under the stream of hot water, and watched it spill over the sides until the cloudy film began to dissolve. he made it look so natural, as if rinsing it had always been the obvious choice.
without breaking his rhythm, he crouched down and tugged open the cabinet beneath the sink. his hand slipped inside, bypassing the clutter you usually shoved in there, until his palm landed on the caddy tucked against the wall.
he didn’t fumble or search. his fingers closed around the sponge instantly as he pulled it free in one smooth motion.
you stayed frozen on the floor, eyes locked on the way he worked it over the container.
the water slid over his veins as if it had chosen that path on purpose, dragging your gaze there and daring you to keep staring.
every drop seemed designed to make you notice the strength in his hands and each flex of his fingers, until you couldn’t stop imagining what else they could do if they turned their attention towards you instead.
before you could spiral any further, he rinsed the last of the bubbles away and placed the container neatly into the drying rack, never once glancing in your direction.
he wasn’t doing it for praise. he wasn’t trying to make a point, either.
he simply noticed what needed to be done, and instead of judging you or making you feel guilty for letting it sit, he took care of it himself without needing a single thank you.
it shouldn’t have made your stomach drop. it shouldn’t have made your mouth go dry.
yet the heat was already there, rushing low until you felt the dampness pool against the cotton of your shorts.
you pressed your thighs together, trying to convince yourself it wasn’t as obvious as it felt, but there was no denying it.
your body didn’t care about the logic. it only cared about the way his hands moved, sure and unbothered, as if caring for the mess you’d left behind came easier to him than just leaving it.
your eyes followed him as he moved towards the garbage. he gathered the bag in his hands, twisting it into a knot with an easy strength that made his forearms flex, his muscles shifting with every pull.
it was quick and efficient; the kind of movement that never asked to be noticed.
he placed it by the door, not just to move it out of the way, but with the unspoken intention of taking it out later. the kind of small, thoughtless promise no one else had ever made you.
when he stepped back into the room, you told yourself he had to be finished by now, though every part of you already knew he wasn’t.
the fabric of his sweats pulled tightly across his thighs as he crouched again, reaching for the cabinet.
a new bag rustled open in his hands, his fingers working with quiet certainty as he slipped it into the bin. each edge was pressed down carefully, tucked into place until it held exactly the way you liked it.
a task that should’ve looked mundane somehow carried weight in his hands. your pulse climbed in uneven beats, chest tight, as if the air in the room had turned heavier just because he was in it.
there was nothing seductive in what he did, yet every precise movement drew the heat higher until your body responded as though he’d touched you directly.
too many bad dates had taught you to not expect this kind of care.
you were used to men who thought effort stopped at sending a text, and who never lifted a finger unless it benefited them.
the guy from tonight hadn't even bothered to hold the door open for you, so the thought of him replacing a garbage bag was almost laughable.
most men had always treated care as an obligation; something only performed because they felt they had to.
with mingyu, it was instinct; as natural as his next breath.
something in you gave way the longer you watched him.
it became too easy to let your mind wander, to twist the steady rhythm of his hands into something else; something meant just for you.
suddenly, his hands weren’t cleaning anymore. they were gripping your hips, sliding lower until his fingers pressed between your thighs, stroking through the damp heat he’d already put there without even trying.
you could almost feel them pushing inside, filling you with the same easy certainty he carried into every small thing he did.
the realization of what you’d just imagined made your eyes snap shut, mortified at your own mind and yet powerless against the pulse it left thrumming through you.
by the time you found the courage to open them again, he was drying his palms against his sweats, shoulders rolling back as if he’d just wrapped up a shift.
“alright,” he said, stretching with a groan, joints popping as his hoodie slid higher. “time to get up, princess.”
you didn’t budge. your cheek stayed pressed to the tile, knees pulled in close, hair half-in your face.
he tipped his head at you. “hello? earth to y/n.”
you blinked. “what?”
“i said it’s time to get up,” he repeated, flat like it was obvious. “we’re not eating dinner with you laid out like a crime scene.”
“i’m fine here,” you muttered into your arm.
he gave your hip a light kick with his socked foot. “i know i look sexy doing dishes,” he smirked, already catching the eye roll you tried to hide. “but come on. pull it together.”
your head tipped just enough to glare at him. “you’re delusional.”
“and you’re dramatic,” he shot back without missing a beat, crouching just enough to extend his hand toward you. “now get up before i drag you to the couch myself.”
your lips twitched, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a smile. “i’d like to see you try,” you mumbled, even as your hand slipped into his.
he tugged you up in one smooth pull, steadying you with a hand at your back until your feet found the floor again.
the touch was brief, casual, but your skin still burned under it.
you shook him off a little too quickly, ducking your head like maybe he wouldn’t notice. his brows lifted anyway, but he let it slide.
“come on,” he said, already reaching for the takeout bags on the counter. “i didn’t bring all of this food over just so you could mope on the floor.”
you trailed him into the living room, trying not to stare at the way his shoulders shifted under his hoodie as he carried the takeout.
he collapsed onto the couch, bags spread across the table like he owned the place.
you hovered for a beat before sitting beside him, close but not too close, hoping he wouldn’t feel the heat radiating off of your body.
“so,” he started, tearing open the first container, “soonyoung threw a tantrum when i told him you weren’t coming to rehearsal today.”
your lips tugged at one corner. “define tantrum.”
“like…fully rolling on the floor,” he said, chopsticks already clicking into place. “claimed he couldn’t get through practice without his number one fan watching.”
“sounds about right.” you said, easily picturing his dramatics in your head.
“seungkwan even backed him up,” he went on. “got all serious about how you’re ‘the glue that holds us together.’” he mimed quotes in the air, rolling his eyes.
your laugh slipped out before you could stop it.
he turned his head upon hearing the sound, like he’d been waiting for it, then reached for another container. the lid snapped open, steam spilling up between you.
“they’re ridiculous.” you said, shaking your head.
“it gets worse,” he assured, “seokmin told everyone in the studio that you were cheating on him.” he said casually, as if it wasn’t the wildest thing to say.
your brows shot up. “cheating? he and i aren’t even—” you cut yourself off with a disbelieving laugh, shaking your head again. “my god, he’s actually insane.”
mingyu’s smirk tilted, like he wanted to say more, but he just went back to portioning noodles.
you watched him work. how his hands moved quick and precise without thought. the crease in his brow when the chopsticks slipped.
the way his shoulder brushed yours when he reached for another box, like he didn’t even register the contact.
even if he didn’t, it still left you warm and restless, your shorts clinging tighter as your pulse tripping over itself.
you forced yourself still, arms wrapped tightly around your stomach, hoping he couldn’t read what was written all over your body.
without any warning, he slid the plate onto your lap, already reaching for another.
you glanced down ready to thank him, only to freeze.
every bite was exactly what you liked; no stray toppings, no sides bleeding into each other. even the noodles sat neat, twisted in their own space like he’d portioned them with care.
your brows furrowed. “wait…this is for me?”
“yeah?” his tone was flat, chopsticks already busy over his own plate.
“no, but—you separated everything.” you gestured vaguely at the plate, thrown. “none of the food’s even touching.”
he shrugged like it wasn’t worth noticing. “yeah. you hate it when it does.”
your mouth opened, stalled. “since when do you—”
“since always.” his smirk tugged faint, eyes still on the food. “i just pay attention. relax, it’s not that deep.”
you sat there, pulse loud in your ears, trying to pretend it wasn’t.
your shorts clung even tighter when you shifted, and the heat crawling up your neck made the plate almost too warm to balance on your lap.
by the time he leaned back with his own food, your eyes still hadn’t left him once.
his brows drew together, catching it instantly. “what?”
you blinked, caught off guard. “what?”
“you’re staring,” he said, chopsticks frozen midair like he’d caught you red-handed.
“am not,” you muttered, keeping your eyes locked on the plate in your lap.
“are too,” he shot back, smirk tugging as his chopsticks hovered. “seriously, what’s your deal?”
you shifted slightly, tugging your knees in closer as the words spilled out before you could catch them. “you’re just…way too thoughtful.”
he blinked, deadpan. “that’s a crime now?”
“no, it’s—” you waved a hand at the table, trying to find the words. “you cleaned, you set everything up, you made my plate exactly right without even asking—”
he glanced up mid-bite, chopsticks pausing. “uh-huh.”
“and you didn’t even hesitate, you just—” your voice pitched higher, flustered. “you just did it, like it was nothing—”
he reached for his bottle of water, lifting it toward his mouth, eyes narrowing with a half-smile. “because it is nothing.”
“it’s not nothing, gyu!” you shot back, heat crawling up your neck. “it’s—it’s hot, okay?”
he choked mid-sip, coughing and laughing all at once, nearly spraying water across the table as his shoulders shook.
at the same time, you slapped your hand over your mouth, instantly mortified. “oh my god.”
he was still coughing through a laugh, sleeve dragging across his mouth as his grin broke wide. “hot?” his voice cracked, half-raspy. “you think me scrubbing your dishes is hot?”
“nope,” you blurted through your hand. “you’re hearing things.”
his eyes lit like he’d just been handed blackmail material for life. “unbelievable. years of friendship, and this is how i find out your kink is…choreplay?”
“shut up,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face.
“no fucking way,” his hand patted at his sweats like he was checking his pockets. “where’s my phone? the boys have to hear this—”
your stomach dropped, panic snapping through you. “don’t you dare.”
his grin only widened, his hands now patting down the front pocket of his hoodie like he was already halfway to victory. “oh, i definitely dare.”
you scrambled to shove your plate onto the coffee table, causing the chopsticks to clatter against porcelain in your rush. “nope. no. absolutely not—”
he’d barely gotten his fingers inside of his pocket before you launched yourself across the couch, tackling him sideways into the cushions.
he landed flat on his back with a thud, and you climbed over him, straddling his hips while reaching desperately for his hoodie pocket.
“this is an invasion of privacy!” he gasped, twisting under you, but his laugh broke through every word.
“you don’t need privacy!” you shot back, breathless, hair falling in your face. “you need to shut up!”
his free hand darted to your side, fingers digging right into the spot he knew would make you squeal.
you squirmed against him, shrieking through your laughter. “stop, you asshole!”
he was laughing so hard his voice cracked, words tumbling out between breaths. “you picked the fight—i’m just defending myself!”
you finally slipped your hand into his pocket and yanked his phone free.
“mine!” you yelled triumphantly as you tossed it gently onto the carpet, way out of reach.
he burst out laughing, head sinking back into the cushion, chest shaking under you. “unreal,” he wheezed, grin splitting wide. “you just committed straight-up theft.”
“it was self-defense,” you corrected, still straddling his hips as you tried to hold him down. “you were about to ruin my life.”
his hands came up half-heartedly, bracing against your thighs as his laugh cracked again.
“you literally said i was hot when all i did was rinse a bowl—” he bucked his hips just enough to throw you off balance, making you squeal. “imagine if i started mopping the floors.”
“stop talking.” you slapped your hand over his mouth, desperate to stop the teasing.
he looked at you with mock innocence, then dragged his tongue across your palm.
you yanked it back with a yelp. “gross!”
he laughed so hard it broke into hiccups, chest still shaking.
your forehead pressed into his hoodie, both of you still caught in the aftershock of laughter.
the sound trailed off in little bursts, until it faded completely. silence settled around you, thicker than it had any right to be.
you lifted your head without meaning to, hair falling forward, your fists still bunched in the fabric of his hoodie.
he was right there; flat on his back, smile softening into something slower that tugged at your ribs.
the awareness of it all seeped in slowly, until every place your body touched his became impossible to ignore.
your thighs hugged his sides. your hips were pressed flush against his. his palms rested warm and steady on your bare legs, fingers splayed like he didn’t trust himself to move.
your faces hovered only inches apart from one another, the remnants of his grin fading as the air thickened between you.
the echo of laughter still hummed in your chest, but it was drowned beneath the heavy thud of your heartbeat.
the ache you’d been pushing down all night came rushing back, hot and relentless, flooding every nerve until there was no disguising it.
every slight shift of your hips made it worse. your slick heat pressed directly against him; betraying just how badly you wanted more.
his eyes held yours, steady and certain, as if he could read every thought you were trying to bury.
a quick flicker down to your lips slipped past his control; small enough to deny, but impossible for you to miss.
the second his gaze lifted to yours again, the tension snapped.
you closed the gap in a rush, kissing him with all the want you’d been choking down.
he answered immediately, almost as if he’d been holding back just as much. the kiss was deep from the start, his mouth moving against yours with a kind of certainty that stole your breath.
his palm skimmed up your bare thigh until it fit at your waist, while his other hand curled behind your neck, coaxing you closer, unable to bear an inch of distance.
the pressure of his hands anchored you as he shifted beneath you, pushing up from the cushions until he was sitting.
the movement never broke the kiss; it only dragged you closer, chest to chest, your legs tightening instinctively around his hips.
his mouth worked over yours hungrily, lips parting like he couldn’t get enough. you clutched at his hoodie, fingers knotted tightly in the fabric, pulling harder to erase whatever little space remained.
every brush of his mouth made your pulse spike harder. every drag of his lips left your lungs aching, but neither of you were willing to stop long enough to breathe.
his lips moved against yours like he already knew every secret you’d been hiding. each shift was deliberate, practiced without practice, pulling raw sounds out of you before you even realized you were making them.
his hand left the back of your neck first, dragging slowly over your skin before slipping down to join the other at your waist.
his hands slipped lower in a slow drag, following the natural curve of your body until both palms curved around your ass, pressing you down against the growing buldge in his sweatpants.
the press of him right against your center dragged a moan from your throat before you could stop it, hips rolling down on instinct, desperate to feel more of the friction you’d been aching for all night.
“breathe,” he murmured against your mouth, voice steady even through his own ragged breath. “i’ve got you.”
your hips rolled again before you could stop them, chasing more of the thick heat beneath his sweats. the noise he made vibrated through your chest, deep and broken, sending sparks racing down your spine.
you clenched around nothing, thighs tightening at his sides, every nerve screaming for more.
“gyu,” you whispered, voice trembling. “please.”
his thumb brushed slowly over your side through your hoodie, grounding you even as his mouth swallowed your plea.
“i hear you,” he said, rough and certain. “but we’re not doing this here. not on a couch.”
the protest tangled with want on your tongue, but you gave a shaky nod. “okay,” you breathed.
his grip tightened, both hands already firm at your ass, and in one motion, you were lifted off the couch.
your legs wrapped around his waist before you even thought about it, a startled laugh breaking from your chest as his mouth chased yours again.
he carried you like he’d done it a thousand times, steady even with your legs locked tight around him.
your back met the mattress before you even realized you had made it to your bedroom, the mattress dipping under your shared weight as he laid you down without once breaking the kiss.
he hovered above you, his weight balanced on one arm, while his other hand found your jaw. his thumb traced lightly along your skin as his eyes searched yours. “still with me?”
“still with you,” you whispered.
he brushed a strand of hair away from your lips, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary before adjusting the pillow under your head.
he caught the details no one else ever did; every small adjustment only served as proof that he knew exactly what you needed before you said a word.
his hand drifted lower again, pausing at the hem of your hoodie. “can i?” he asked, eyes locked on yours.
“please,” you breathed, the word spilling out before you could catch it.
he pulled the hoodie over your head in one smooth motion, leaving you in nothing but your bra and shorts.
the air hit cool against your skin, though it was nothing compared to his stare, heavy with years of memorizing every detail; knowing you in ways no one else ever had.
“fuck,” he murmured as his hand lifted to your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. “you’re so beautiful.”
your breath hitched, chest pressing up into his. heat rushed over your skin, your body giving you away as your hips shifted closer, chasing him without thought.
his lips moved with purpose, each kiss a quiet claim as he trailed them along your jaw, across your cheek, down the line of your throat, and back up to your lips.
his mouth traced you in reverence, each touch tugging another tremor loose, stoking the ache already clawing at you.
his hands followed the same rhythm, palms sliding over your sides, dragging heat everywhere they lingered.
he touched you like he already knew what your body was asking for; steady where you needed grounding, firmer where you were aching for pressure.
he moved with purpose, mapping you in ways that left no part of you untouched, and no ache unanswered.
your fingers slipped to the hem of his hoodie, tugging at it clumsily, more desperate than precise. you weren’t subtle about it, trying to work it up his torso without breaking the kiss.
his mouth curved against yours in a half-laugh, half-groan. “you know you can just ask, right?” he murmured, amused even through the rasp of his breath.
you rolled your eyes, breath catching anyway. “just take it off,” you whispered, impatience clear in your voice.
he rocked back onto on his heels, and tugged the hoodie off in one smooth pull. the shirt beneath stretched across his shoulders, while his sweats slouched low on his hips like an invitation.
your gaze slipped down, dragging his with it, until you were both staring at the obvious wet mark stamped across his lap.
your stomach flipped, eyes flying wide before you could stop them. his laugh cracked out, caught somewhere between disbelief and delight.
“wow,” he said, brows shooting up. “i rinse one bowl and you baptize my pants?”
you slapped a hand over your mouth, laughter already breaking through. “oh my god—no! that is not from me!”
his grin only widened, mischief written all over it. “no? so what, i pissed myself?”
you let out a choked laugh, shoulders shaking. “maybe you did!”
he leaned closer, laughter still shaking out of him, his hands warm and steady at your hips. “mm. want me to check your shorts, just to be sure?”
you shifted in his grip, laughing helplessly even as your face burned. “absolutely not!”
his grin turned smug, laughter still ghosting in his voice. “that’s what i thought.” his thumbs pressed deeper into your hips, steady and sure. “guess initiative really does go a long way, huh?”
you rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips gave you away. “apparently.”
he hummed, pleased, leaning in closer until his nose brushed yours. “good answer,” he mumbled.
his mouth found yours again, the trace of a smile still there, though it melted quickly into something hungrier.
his knee slid between your thighs, nudging them a little further apart, while his hands tightened at your hips, keeping you close.
you gasped into him, the sound breaking into a whimper when he angled himself lower, kissing along your jaw.
“there she is,” he murmured, voice brushing warm against your pulse before his lips dragged down your neck.
your breath caught as your hands slipped to his chest, sliding lower, reaching for the hem of his shirt. he caught your wrists easily, pressing a soft kiss into your open palm.
“not yet,” he whispered, steady and certain. “this is about you.”
his mouth trailed down slowly, lingering against your collarbone before sinking down the curve between your breasts.
his lips lingered like he had all the time in the world, and every deliberate pause only made your need claw harder, trembling for the next touch.
he knew exactly what you needed without you ever having to say it.
he caught it in the way your legs tightened, in the way your hips tipped towards him, in the twitch of your hands gripping the sheets.
he noticed everything, always had, and now he was using it to unravel you piece by piece.
“i’ve been dreaming about this for so long,” he breathed against the lace of your bra, voice low like he almost couldn’t believe you were real.
his hand slid beneath you, guiding your back into a soft arch. the clasp of your bra gave way under his fingers like it had been waiting for him, undone without him ever breaking from your skin.
the straps slipped down your shoulders, one after the other, and his mouth followed their path in slow devotion.
every new inch of bare skin was met with his lips, each kiss a quiet vow that nothing about you would be left unseen. he traced you with patience, as though to prove that you were worth memorizing in full.
his lips found the swell of your breast, his hands steadying you against the tremor of your own breath.
his lips lingered wherever they touched, tracing the faint lines that marked your skin as though they were meant to be cherished, never concealed.
“so beautiful,” he said, voice quiet but unshakably sure, like the words had been waiting years to fall out of him. “every inch of you.”
his tongue flicked over your nipple and the moan that tore from you was answered instantly by his own; muffled against your breast, like the taste of you undid him as much as his touch wrecked you.
your thighs shifted restlessly, helpless in their search for relief.
“you’re already trembling,” he breathed, kissing down over your ribs, following the soft curve beneath your breast. “and i’ve hardly even touched you.”
your voice broke apart on his name. “gyu—”
he didn’t look up, lips still moving like prayer, heat spilling across your skin. “no one’s ever touched you like this, have they?”
the truth of it broke you open, unraveling you from the inside out. your breath faltered, stuttered, until it was nothing but gasps and moans, your hips tilting into his hands without thought.
“i—” the attempt at words dissolved into moans, “fuck—oh my god—”
his palms slid down, fingers tracing the edge of your shorts, stopping just above where you needed him most.
“yeah,” he said, already knowing the proof had been in your body all along. “i figured.”
instead of giving in right away, he bent to your waist, his lips dragging heat over the skin just above your shorts.
“they never earned this,” he said, voice quiet but edged with conviction. “never learned you like this.”
“oh god,” the sound tore out of you, thin and desperate, your fingers curling around his wrist with no strength behind them.
he took your weak hold as encouragement, not resistance.
“they didn’t take their time,” he whispered, lips tracing slowly over the softness of your stomach. “didn’t listen.”
your fingers found his hair, tugging softly, guiding him closer without words.
“p-please,” you pleaded, the word breaking before it even left your throat.
his head lifted just enough to meet your eyes, steadying you in an instant.
“oh, baby,” his voice softened as one hand left your waist, reaching for the pillow beside you.
he slid it close, eyes never leaving yours. “lift up for me, princess,” he coaxed gently. “just a little.”
you obeyed, lifting just enough for him to slide the pillow breath you. his hands adjusted it with care, easing your hips down until he was sure you were comfortable.
“there we go,” he muttered, brushing his thumb over your skin. “that’s better.”
his thumb traced idle circles at your hip, grounding you while the other hand slid lower. when his fingers brushed the band of your shorts, he lifted his gaze, catching yours with a question he didn’t need to voice.
the quiet in his eyes made your chest ache; knowing he would wait if you asked him to. your body answered before your words could, hips tilting up in silent permission.
his lips tugged into a soft smile, eyes fixed on you as he drew the fabric down.
he shifted your shorts and underwear down slowly, guiding the fabric over your hips with deliberate care; every motion unhurried, every detail handled with care.
he gently lifted your leg, his hand steady at your calf. his lips pressed to your ankle first, soft and lingering, before traveling upward in slow succession.
each kiss trailed higher — the curve of your calf, the dip at your knee, the inside of your thigh — like he was intent on worshipping every step closer to where you ached for him most.
your nails dug into the sheets as his palms splayed over your thighs, easing them apart.
“breathe for me, sweetheart,” his voice was strained, as if he was holding himself back just to guide you. “just breathe.”
your body obeyed his words before your mind could, chest lifting with a shaky breath.
he didn’t let you finish it.
his mouth found you the next second; no hesitation, no warning. just him, warm and certain, like he’d been holding back only for as long as you could bear.
the pillow lifted you right into his mouth, every inch of you exposed to the slow drag of his tongue. his mouth worked with a patience that burned, each movement a vow to remember every detail of you.
your fingers threaded into his hair, desperate for something to hold on to.
“oh my—fuck—” the words tore out half-formed before collapsing into a moan you couldn’t contain.
he groaned in response, the sound reverberating against you as his grip tightened on your thighs, steadying you when your body tried to jolt away.
the way he moved against you was unhurried, and devastating in its precision. every swipe of his tongue felt like he already knew what would break you apart.
your chest heaved, breath shattering into pieces. you tightened your grip in his hair, dragging him closer without thinking.
he let you guide him, humming low like the taste of you was everything he’d ever wanted.
heat rushed through your stomach, twisting tighter with every pass of his mouth.
you were soaked. aching. unraveling with every second he stayed between your thighs.
“feels so good—” you choked out, hand fisting in the sheets now. “i can’t—it’s—gyu.”
he paused just long enough to glance up at you, eyes dark and blown wide with need. “you’re doing so fucking good for me, baby.” he praised, voice filled with honesty.
he found you again without pause, urgency written in every motion. his lips tightened over you, his tongue pushing deeper than before.
your head tipped back, voice spilling out like prayer. “don’t—please don’t—don’t stop—please.”
another groan broke free from his mouth, vibrating through your every nerve.
pleasure ripped through you so fast it stole the air from your lungs, leaving you clinging to him as though he was the only thing keeping you tethered.
“that’s it,” he whispered against you, voice low, almost reverent. “let it happen, baby.”
your thighs quivered around his shoulders, hips twisting helplessly.
his hold only tightened, dragging you deeper into every surge of pleasure until you had no other choice but to give in.
“gyu—fuck,” you gasped, tears stinging from the intensity of it all.
he slowed his pace, pressing soothing kisses as his thumbs circled your skin.
“that’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured. “you did so good for me.”
your chest heaved, lungs struggling to catch up with the aftershock.
when his gaze lifted, the change was immediate; eyes softening on sight, like tasting you had only deepened the reverence already written into him.
your lungs were still searching for air when he started climbing back up your body, mouth brushing every inch along the way.
your thigh. your stomach. the underside of your breast. your collarbone.
each kiss softer than the last, like he was pulling you back into yourself piece by piece.
by the time he found your mouth, you were already leaning into him, reaching before you realized it.
his lips lingered, smiling faintly against yours. “felt good, huh, beautiful girl?”
a broken laugh slipped out, shaky as you tried to catch your breath. “good?” you asked, head shaking in disbelief. “gyu, no one’s ever—” you paused, voice breaking, “not like that.”
his grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, soft but smug, like he couldn’t help himself.
“yeah?” he teased gently, eyes searching yours. “that’s because they were all idiots.”
he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours before kissing the corner of your mouth. “you deserve more than they’ll ever know how to give.”
his words sank deep, leaving you trembling all over again. you tried to laugh, but it broke halfway when his lips caught yours, sealing the truth of his words right into you.
what began tender turned restless in seconds.
his mouth moved against yours, only you couldn’t help but deepen it, chasing him like you couldn’t get close enough.
his chest pinned you down as his hips dragged slowly between your thighs. you felt him, hard and thick through his sweats, sending another wave of heat to rip through you.
it didn’t matter that you’d already fallen apart once; your body lit up for him all over again.
a whimper caught in your throat, swallowed by his kiss as your hands scrambled higher, clawing at his shirt.
you tugged like you were frantic; like the thin barrier of fabric was the only thing keeping you from breathing.
“off,” you rasped against his lips, desperate, the word breaking. “please—take it off.”
“yes, ma’am.” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips, but it vanished the second your fingers brushed his waistband like you couldn’t wait a second longer.
you shoved his sweats down with shaking hands, boxers going along, nearly knocking him off balance in your urgency.
he huffed a laugh, his eyes catching the hunger in yours. “greedy, are we?” he chuckled, sounding more undone than smug.
“shut up,” you shot back, no patience for his teasing.
your eyes had already landed on him; thick and already slick at the tip.
heat rushed hot up your chest, a grin tugging weakly at your lips despite yourself. “so that’s what i do to you?”
he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “you know what you do to me.”
“still,” you whispered, tugging him closer, “it’s nice to have the evidence.”
a rough laugh slipped from him, cut short as his mouth slammed back onto yours, heavy with need.
your legs wrapped around his waist without thought, but he held himself back; grinding his hard length through your slick folds with a patience that felt merciless, his lips still on yours like he needed to drink down every sound before giving you more.
“turn over for me, baby.” his voice was rough at the edges, but his touch stayed soft, guiding you onto your stomach like he was handling something precious.
as you shifted, the pillow resting underneath your hips slipped slightly.
before you could react, his hand was already there, sliding it back beneath your stomach with quiet care; making sure the angle favoured your comfort more than his own.
“there we go,” he muttered, like he was admiring a work of art. “just like that, angel. fuck—look at you.”
you could feel the heat of him behind you, hovering close, and the way his hands coasted up and down your sides; thumbs pressing in like he was trying to memorize every inch.
“you’re unreal,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “my fucking dream girl.”
his palms settled at your waist, urging your hips higher before gliding up your spine, pressing lightly between your shoulders until your chest sank into the mattress.
“fuck, baby,” he groaned as he lined himself up. “you’re gonna kill me.”
the blunt press of him at your entrance had you gasping, nails twisting in the sheets.
“gyu—” your voice cracked, the sound nothing but a plea.
“i know, i know.” his hand smoothed down your side, soothing you. “just breathe, beautiful. i’ve got you.”
he slid in with agonizing slowness, every inch a stretch that stole the air directly from your lungs.
a broken sound escaped you, and his groan followed fast, spilling into the space between your bodies.
“f-fuck—” your cried helplessly, “it’s—oh my—fuck—”
he bottomed out with a shudder, his hips pressed flush against you, both of you shaking with the effort it took not to fall apart right there.
his forehead dropped between your shoulders, breath hot against your skin.
“jesus christ—” he groaned, the sound rough and reverent all at once. “you feel—fuck, baby, you feel insane.”
your back arched, body clenching around him, another helpless moan tearing through you. “too much—no, it’s—god, gyu—it’s so good.” the words spilled broken, tumbling past your lips before you could catch them.
his hand slid to your stomach, pulling you up into him, grounding you through the dizzy stretch. “that’s it,” he murmured, kissing along your shoulder blade. “you’re doing—f-fuck—you’re perfect—fucking made for me.”
your thighs quivered, but the need to feel him move was stronger than the ache. you shifted back against him, desperate. “please…move—i need—”
he groaned again, like your words undid him. “fuck—yeah, baby, i know.”
he slowly eased his hips back, dragging himself out until you thought you’d break, then pushed in again, steady and deep.
the rhythm was unhurried but merciless; every stroke deliberate, every thrust angled like he knew exactly how to pull you apart.
after a few slow strokes, his pace quickened; each thrust sinking deeper, chasing every sound that spilled from you.
“there it is—fuck, yeah. that’s it,” he breathed, forehead tipping down for a beat before he straightened again, eyes locked on the way your body yielded to him.
your moans spilled raw into the mattress, high pitched and broken, your hips rocking back into him without thought. “oh my god—don’t stop—please, gyu, don’t—”
he answered with another thrust, sharp enough to punch a cry straight out of you.
“never,” he panted, jaw tight, reverence spilling through every word. “you feel too fucking good—i could stay here forever.”
your walls clenched tight around him, the build snapping faster than you could process.
“gyu—i’m gonna—fuck—” the cry tore out of you as your whole body bowed into the mattress, release ripping straight through you.
he groaned at the feel of you breaking around him, hips stuttering once before he forced himself to steady, dragging it out for you instead of chasing his own end.
“fuck—yeah—” his voice cracked. “that’s it, angel…let go for me—just like that.”
your thighs shook uncontrollably, but his hands steadied you; one gripping your waist, the other pressing into your stomach, keeping you grounded as you unraveled.
the sob that followed buried itself in the sheets, your release hitting so hard it fractured every breath into ragged pieces.
he bent over you, lips trailing soft kisses along your spine, his hips still moving but gentler now, easing you down instead of pulling you higher.
“i’ve got you,” he whispered into your skin, kissing your shoulder like a vow. “just breathe for me, angel…that’s all you need to do.”
he eased out of you slowly, the sudden emptiness pulling a broken whimper from your throat before you could stop it. “gyu—w-why…what are you—”
“shh, i know, sweetheart,” he soothed, palms steady as they skimmed your sides, guiding you gently. “just needed to see you. fuck—look at you. you think i could stop now?”
desire threaded through his voice, yet his hands remained careful, guiding you as if you were fragile in his hold. he eased you onto your back, settling your hips back onto the pillow with a care that made it clear he wouldn’t let you feel anything but comfort.
you let him move you, pliant in his hold, your body trembling as you blinked up at him. his hand cradled the back of your neck, thumb tracing lightly like he needed to feel you breathe.
he kissed your temple first, lingering there, before trailing down to your cheek.
his mouth wandered unhurriedly across your skin; tracing over your brow, brushing the bridge of your nose, grazing the corner of your lips.
“hi, beautiful,” he whispered against your skin, words cracked but full of awe.
your smile barely surfaced, dazed and weak, but it was there. “hi,” you breathed back.
his forehead tipped to yours, lips brushing in a fleeting kiss. “you okay?” he asked, though the look in his eyes said he already knew the answer.
your breath caught, a soft laugh tumbling out with your words. “more than okay.”
the corner of his mouth curved into a soft smile before he slid his hand down to steady your hip.
he lined himself up and pushed back in with one long, steady stroke. the stretch tore a gasp from your throat, your body clenching around him so hard it forced a groan straight out of him.
“jesus—” his voice cracked, forehead pressing to yours again. “baby, you feel—fuck—you’re so tight.”
your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, mouth falling open on a sound you couldn’t swallow down.
“gyu—” his name slipped from your lips, almost a sob. “it’s—s-so deep—oh my god.”
his palm pressed firm to your stomach, making sure you felt every inch of him. “there we go,” he rasped, kissing your jaw through ragged breaths. “you’re taking me so well, beautiful. you’re—fuck, you’re perfect.”
his hips pulled back, just enough to make you feel the loss, before he drove in sharper. the force knocked the air from your chest as your nails clawed down his shoulder blades.
“eyes on me,” he mumbled, catching your gaze. “don’t look away, baby—want to see you fall apart.”
your gaze clung to his until the next thrust stole it away, lids fluttering shut as another cry tore loose from your throat.
“no, no—look at me,” he urged, groaning when you blinked back up at him, glassy-eyed and trembling. “that’s it. good girl.”
your moans came fractured, tumbling past your lips with every push. “please—gyu, please, just like that—f-fuck—feels so good, so good—”
“fuck—” his voice cracked, hips driving harder, the sound of you begging ripping the control straight out of him.
“oh my god—i’m gonna—” the words broke into a sob, your voice splintering. “mingyu, i—fuck—i can’t—”
his thrusts faltered, a groan tearing from his chest as he forced himself deeper. “yes, you can, angel. just a little more—fuck—i can feel you. you’re right there.”
you broke apart around him, crying out his name like it was the only word left in you. “gyu—”
“that’s it—oh, fuck—that’s it, baby,” he gasped, forehead dropping to yours as his own rhythm fell apart. “come with me—yeah, just like that—fuck—”
your third release tore through you, carrying his first with it. your body squeezed around him, causing him to let out a wrecked moan as he came inside of you.
he stilled for a moment, chest pressed to yours as both of you trembled through the last shreds of release.
there was no detachment. no instinct to turn away. he hadn’t looked anywhere but at you.
when his breathing finally slowed, he pressed a soft kiss to your jaw. “are you okay?” he asked.
you nodded, unable to trust your voice.
he gave you a moment longer before easing out, slow and careful, drawing a broken whimper from your throat.
his mouth followed the loss; kissing the inside of your thigh, the curve of your hip, and the hollow below your ribs; each one gentle and deliberate in their own way.
“stay here,” he said softly. “just rest, baby.”
your head fell back against the pillow in the faintest nod, eyes glassy with exhaustion.
he lingered a second longer, his thumb brushing your cheek in a touch that felt reluctant, before finally pushing himself to stand.
he bent down to grab his boxers from where they’d been tossed, sliding them on around his hips.
the quiet between you stretched thin, filled only by the sound of his breathing and the faint creak of the floor.
by the time he reached the door, your chest was already tight. you stayed where you were, staring up at the ceiling, the fan turning in lazy circles above you.
the longer you watched, the more the quiet shifted.
at first it was just silence, but eventually, that silence turned into space, which slowly turned into panic.
you weren’t naïve. you knew the script.
sex that good, that messy, that consuming, usually ended the same way.
a roll to the side. maybe a muttered ‘that was fun’. the scrape of denim. the excuse about an early morning.
sometimes the door would shut before you’d even pulled the sheets over yourself.
your heart sank.
what if this was that moment?
what if you’d just traded years of friendship for a few hours of wreckless, selfish pleasure?
what if you’d just ruined everything?
before the thoughts could spiral any further, the door creaked open again.
“hey,” he spoke softly, not wanting to startle you.
you blinked towards him, body still draped exactly where he’d left you.
his boxers hung low on his hips, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, chest still flushed from the heat of you. a towel was slung over his shoulder, two water bottles gripped in one hand, and a warm cloth in the other.
your throat went tight. “you came back,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could catch them.
his face softened immediately, something tender breaking through. “of course i did,” he said, stepping closer. “what—did you think i’d just disappear after that?”
you tried to smile, but it wavered.
“hey,” he said again, lowering onto the edge of the bed. “don’t go quiet on me now, pretty girl. not after you already woke all of the neighbors up.”
a soft, broken laugh escaped your lips.
he bent to press a soft kiss to your knee. “scoot up a little, sweetheart. let me take care of you.”
his hands moved with quiet certainty, every touch measured and unhurried. patience lingered in everything he did; a tenderness you weren’t used to.
you felt the difference in your chest before you even felt it between your thighs.
no one had ever done this for you before.
the most you’d ever been given was a half-hearted towel tossed your way, like it was your job to deal with the aftermath alone.
but here he was, treating you like you were something worth handling with delicacy.
“i kept the pillow there,” he said quietly, “’cause i figured you’d be sore. didn’t want you shifting too much.”
he finished with quiet care, dropping the cloth and towel into your hamper before reaching for your hoodie on the floor.
he eased it over your head, guiding your arms through the sleeves, tugging it down until you were completely covered.
as he climbed back into the bed, you reached for him without thinking twice.
he was already leaning into you, arms sliding around your waist, pulling you against him like it was the only place you belonged.
“you still with me?” he asked, lips brushing your hair.
you nodded, eyes still shut until his voice pulled you back.
you blinked up at him as he dipped his head, catching your gaze. “you scared me for a second.”
your voice was small. “i just…wasn’t expecting you to come back.”
his brow furrowed, a little hurt, though his tone stayed soft. “come on. you really thought i’d leave you like that?”
you huffed out a laugh. “it wouldn’t be the first time someone did.”
his chest rose on a sigh as he shifted to really look at you. “baby…what kind of assholes are you fucking?”
the bluntness startled a laugh out of you. “you’ve heard all the stories,” you reminded him.
“unfortunately.” his hand stayed warm at your spine, steadying you. “and i hated every single one of them.”
you froze, but he continued nonetheless.
“you don’t understand,” he said, shaking his head. “listening to you try to laugh off how some guy left before you could even breathe again—” he paused, exhaling hard through his nose. “i swear, prison stripes nearly sounded worth it.”
“you never said anything,” you said, genuinely surprised at his words.
his lips lifted into a small smile, but the weight in his eyes gave him away. “never felt like my place.”
“gyu…” you whispered.
he shook his head gently, already seeing where your thoughts were headed.
“you really don’t get it, do you?” his voice softened, a little rough at the edges.
“get what?” you murmured as your eyes searched his face for any clues on what he could be referring to.
his hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, so tender it made your chest ache.
“how easy you are to love.”
you froze, lungs stuttering like they’d completely forgotten how to work.
“i’ve wanted to do this right for so long,” he whispered, leaning his forehead to yours. “not just the sex. all of it. making you laugh. holding you when you cry. being the one who never leaves. giving you the kind of love you should’ve had all along.”
your lips parted, but no sound followed. the weight of his words pressed down until all you could do was hold his gaze, completely undone by the gentleness in his voice.
“and if i ever have to hear about one more guy who made you feel like you were too much, or too emotional, or not worth sticking around for…” he shook his head again, softer this time. “i’ll lose my fucking mind. because you—”
he swallowed hard, trying to find the courage to continue. “you deserve someone who worships the ground you walk on. someone who thanks god every night that you chose them.”
you blinked hard, tears threatening to fall as a soft laugh escaped you. “you’re not supposed to make me cry after sex, idiot.”
“i meant what i said, you know,” he told you, his lips curving into that same boyish grin you’ve adored for years. “and i know my feelings aren’t one sided, either, ms. choreplay.”
tears slipped down your cheeks as you let out a shaky laugh, swatting weakly at his chest. “you are such an asshole, kim mingyu.”
“am i wrong?” he smirked. “because you—” he paused, tapping your thigh, “—basically had tears running down your thighs from me washing, like, two dishes.”
you groaned, burying your face in his chest. “please never phrase it like that again.”
he laughed, the sound warm against your cheek. “don’t act like you didn’t whimper when i changed the garbage bag.”
you pulled back just enough to glare at him. “my god, you’re always so full of yourself.”
his grin only widened, cocky and unbothered. “wait till you find out i sort my laundry by whites and darks.”
— synopsis: kim mingyu is a dear friend. a dear friend that spends nights in your arms, said nights set aflame with the tick tick tick of your gas stove when he makes you dinner, and searing kisses when he lays you down in your bed. yes, kim mingyu is a dear friend...and you wish he were more.
– genre: friends with benefits to lovers au; fluff, angst, some suggestive/smutty content.
— pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader
– word count: 11.8k
— rating: 18+. minors do not interact.
– warnings: they're stupid. literally so fucking stupid. fighting, mentions of infidelity, jealousy & insecurities. mildly sexual themes and content: brief p in v scene, there's a titty in his mouth, etc. kissing, pet names (babe/baby, sweetheart, honey, etc.)
— what to listen to: ribs - lorde ; starbright - dabin, trella ; people watching - conan gray ; hard part's over - hoang, page ; like real people do - hozier ; fineshrine - purity ring.
– author's note: thank you to @/saradika-graphics here on tumblr for these daisy dividers! that being said, this is not proofread, but it was beta'd by my dear @starlightkyeom. another fic for thee gyuldaengie ever, @gyuswhore because i posted late and i just love you that dang much. dedicated to em (again!) i love you. ♡
KIM MINGYU COULD VERY WELL BE THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE.
Sweet, thoughtful, and delicate. Fragile, even: in ego, in sex, in love.
Sometimes, you think he’s made for you. Like Eve was made for Adam, by the rib. Sometimes you feel an ache in your left side, and you wonder if it’s the lack of Mingyu’s lingering presence – only to see him a week later, shown up to your front door with a beautiful bouquet and a bottle of wine.
Kim Mingyu is the petals of every flower in all the bouquets he’s ever given you. Velvety soft, perfectly cared for and beautiful.
But just as he is all those things – he is your Achilles’ heel. You can never say no to Kim Mingyu, can never admit that he something more to you than you care to acknowledge beyond just that – something more.
And just as easily as those flowers of yours were picked, they were tossed. Once they died, they served no value. You’d watch the petals fall onto your desk for a while, dried and crisp; before inevitably swiping them into the trash can and dumping the dirty water into the sink. The vase waited, empty (like you,) to be refilled once Mingyu swung by for his bi-monthly fix.
It wasn’t always like this.
You used to save some of the petals, some of the flowers themselves. Press them in wax paper between heavy books and forget about them until you read the books again. You’d toy with the dried petals, before they eventually became littered around your apartment – in the form of coasters, framed on the walls, even a pair of earrings you once made at a crafts class.
Because in the beginning, in the very beginning – Mingyu was just your friend.
He was your very nice, very attentive friend that brought you gorgeous bouquets from his florist friend’s shop, always picked out by Mingyu himself – down to the colorful paper wrapping and satin bow. You’d rarely see him more than once or twice a month as it was, because Mingyu is a very busy man – so the flowers were always accompanied with an apologetic smile and a quick kiss to your cheek. You’d make dinner together, or he’d cook for the two of you; his presence warm and inviting even in your own home.
He’d serve you a glass of wine or three, plate your dinner like you’re at a nice restaurant and hand you extra silverware in case one of you fell victim to his butterfingers – and he knew your apartment like the back of his hand. He knew you like the back of his hand.
Then, you kissed.
One time. By complete and utter accident.
You had moved into his typical cheek kiss in greeting, the both of you springing away almost immediately when you felt each other’s lips. You both spewed apologies like geysers, talking over one another before you both laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.
“No more kisses, got it. Could’ve said something earlier, you know.” He joked, but finally greeted you with a warm hug paired with a mumbled it’s so nice to see you that made your stomach flutter for the first time ever. You were wide eyed as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in the warmth of his body, in the soft feeling of his cashmere sweater that you’d given him for his birthday many moons ago.
Unfortunately, the attempt to make dinner together was awkward. You were both anxiously trying to keep things level, trying to crack jokes and talk about your lives outside of each other when you just sighed; your hands on your hips as you glanced at him in your pink apron that was much too small.
And he kissed you – this time, with purpose. He held your face gently between his hands, your own fisting the stupidly expensive cashmere sweater that left you without eggs and bread that month.
Dinner wasn’t homemade, after all. He’d turned the stove off in your frenzy to pull his belt off, his hands holding you flush to him as he led you both to your bedroom – where he’d shown you exactly why his ex-girlfriend can’t leave him alone, and why your ex-boyfriend constantly felt inferior to him. He made it clear he wanted you, even if it was just for the night – and he wasn’t about to fuck up the only potential chance he’d gotten.
You both fell asleep before either of you could say anything about the missed dinner, and the morning after was full of shy stares and a silent agreement – after you asked him if he’d even wanted to be your friend, if this was his plan all along. He admitted honestly that he’d never anticipated something like this and he never secretly wanted you, either – that he’d been your friend because he loves you, because you’re sweet and funny, because you’re you.
Twice a month. Dinner. Sex. Repeat. Just to get the taste of each other off your tongues, to fill the void of feeling someone next to you while you’re sleeping.
Eventually, you realized that things between you and Mingyu had grown to be just that – a fix. A bi-monthly, sometimes tri-monthly, fix; where he came to your apartment and still yielded those beautiful flowers. He’d gotten more into making dinner on his own, and you’d choose somethnig to watch – and you’d spend an hour or so filling each other in about your time apart over the warm meal and some stupid movie, if not Gilmore Girls.
Until one of you leans in for the first kiss of the tumble, and the illusion of romance shatters at your fingertips.
Not because Mingyu isn’t romantic; if anything, the guy could drown you in romance. In soft touches, in mood lighting, in catering to your every need while still meeting his own with little intereference. He’s kind and gentle, with an edge that makes your skin prickle when he works you over with his tongue between your thighs after peeling your clothes off with needy hands. He’s a bitch when his teeth nip at the skin of your thighs, his fingers digging into the meat of them like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he makes the wrong move; and you can feel the way he smiles against you as he brings you to the first orgasm of the night.
He’s yours when he kisses you like you mean everything to him, when he holds your knees to your chest while you cry on his cock. He’s yours when he holds you close, massaging your hips and kissing the expanse of your bare shoulders.
And you are his.
You are absolutely, irrevocably his when he slips inside you for the second time that night – his teeth sinking lightly into your shoulder at how sensitive he is but he loves the way you feel. Shuddered whimpers will fill the room, murmurs of missing you when he’s gone as he nibbles on your earlobe; he leaves a mess between your thighs, snugly wrapped in your walls as you both drift to sleep.
Every. Single. Time.
Maybe it’s not all that romantic.
Maybe it’s just...sex. Casual sex that convinces you it’s more the moment you press your lips to his because you’re so certain Heaven is a place on Earth – and it’s in Kim Mingyu’s arms.
That’s where it all ends, anyway. He’s gone in the morning without much conversation; you’ll shower together like real couples do and he’s started keeping a few changes of clothes in your apartment. You’ll brush you teeth together like real couples do; he’ll even rub lotion on your back before kissing the back of your neck and asking if you want breakfast. If you say no, he leaves.
If you say yes...he’ll make breakfast, an entire spread. He’ll make coffee, and he’ll sit right next to you in the cute breakfast nook that sold you on your apartment three years ago – right after you’d broken up with that ex-boyfriend that never liked Mingyu. For who he was, what he stood for or what he could provide...you weren’t all that sure.
But you don’t really care, either.
Mingyu helped decorate your apartment. He helped you make it yours and even slept on the floor of your bedroom with you when you were too scared to be alone on the first night. He didn’t complain about his very obviously sore neck the next morning, only giving you a quick hug goodbye as he left to his apartment six blocks away for a shower – and returning within two hours to help you paint your bathroom.
They say that friends to lovers is the best way to go. Friends that know each other’s coffee orders by heart, turning into lovers that deliver said coffee with a kiss on the lips. Friends that help each other pick an outfit for a night out, becoming lovers who take said outfit off at the end of the night with their lips running down each other’s shoulders and other unnamed places.
Lovers, who mean it more than words can explain, and the warmth of a fire could never rival the true heat behind it – the three little words that linger on your tongue.
That stupid, stupid I love you.
But you are you, and Mingyu is...well, he’s Mingyu.
You’re not sure what you are. You’re certainly not friends, but you’re not lovers...you’re just Y/N and Mingyu, in limbo. No label, no questions and consequently, no answers.
And you want an answer. You want to know what it’s like for him to hold you closer when you move away to slip out of your bed in the morning. You want to know what it’s like for him to flip you onto your back and kiss you despite the morning breath, what it’s like to be Mingyu’s, eternally, and never have a way out.
But...you are you.
And you know better.
IT’S WEDNESDAY NIGHT WHEN YOUR PHONE PINGS ACROSS APARTMENT.
You move out of the kitchen, making your way to it and grabbing it off the coffee table before flopping onto your couch.
NEW! (3) Messages From: Mingyu ♡
[4:21 PM] hey, y/n
[4:21 PM] just a quick question, are you free this friday?
[4:21 PM] no pressure 💘
You’re aptly draped across the couch for a distressed sigh as you read the messages. You throw your arm over your eyes, your heart beating just a little faster – there's a pot of stew heating up on the stove, and the whole house smells delicious as you close your eyes, knowing exactly how this could go.
He’ll show up at your doorstep, ten minutes before he said he’d be there. He’ll be wearing one of his nice shirts – maybe it’ll be that baby blue one that you love – maybe it’ll be the dark red that he always tucks neatly into slacks. Maybe he’ll be dressed down, something you don’t to see all that often – sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie, but he’ll still be carrying that stupidly large bouquet of flowers and a bottle of your favorite wine. He’ll kiss you hello again, but it won’t be on your cheek – no, he’ll kiss your lips.
He’ll kiss your lips and hold your waist gently, pulling you into him. He’ll nip at your lower lip, inching his way into the apartment and shutting the door with his foot before setting the flowers down on the foyer table and pulling away. He’ll say it’s nice to see you, that he missed you, that he wants to hear about your day before kissing you breathless.
Because he’s Mingyu.
“And I’ll fall for it every damn time,” you sigh, staring at the screen. Your fingers move quickly, typing a singular ‘sure’, only to see his read receipt pop up before you can even sit up. Like he’s waiting for you to answer – sat at his desk, the one that’s shoved in the corner of his office and way too cramped for a guy his size. The one that’s piled high with confidential documents, that he eats his lunch at that he packs himself early in the mornings.
The one he’s sent you a few suggestive pieces of media from, the image of his silver watch moving up and down your screen still burned into your mind.
NEW! (2) Messages from: Mingyu ♡
[4:26 PM] hm, don’t know if i liked the way you answered that.
[4:26 PM] are you okay?
Are you?
You don’t get much of a chance to reply before he’s calling you. You quickly decline it, texting back with the excuse that you’re in the shower.
NEW! (2) Messages from: Mingyu ♡
[4:27 PM] you’re literally laying on your couch. you don’t shower until six.
[4:28 PM] this is your ‘lazy girl’ time, you’ve told me. i know.
“Curse your memory, Kim Mingyu,” you grumble, fumbling around to call him on Facetime. He picks up on the second ring, putting his AirPod in – but he’s not dressed the way he usually is after work. Or rather, during: he’s still got thirty minutes to his workday.
But you’re not complaining at the sleeveless white shirt, feeling your cheeks hot as he raises a brow at you through the screen.
“What are you doing?” You prop yourself up on a throw pillow, only for Mingyu to flip the camera and show the inside of your favorite grocery store, “what are you doing there? It’s Wednesday, you should be at work.”
“And you should tell me what’s got you so pouty.” He says pointedly, propping you up in the cart as he grabbed a bag for tomatoes. You’re silent as you watch him pick them out carefully, gentle fingers you miss wrapped around your throat squeezing the fruit softly. You blink as the thought leaves your mind, your mouth dry as you shake it off while he ties the plastic bag expertly.
“So? What’s got you so iffy?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re a horrible liar.”
Mingyu gives you a stern look as he hunches over the cart, pursing his lips as his eyes dart around the store for the next item to take him. Maybe peppers. Maybe a tub of soybean paste.
Maybe someone else to fill his bed, his heart. His stomach, with delicious meals he never lets you cook for him anymore because, in his words – you're tired. You work so hard and you’ve had a long day, sweetheart. Just sit on the island and keep me company.
“Need an answer sooner rather than later, sweetheart.” His voice is gentle as he grabs your attention again, only making you scoff as you wave him off with your hand.
“Seriously, I’m fine.”
“I dunno. First, you give me a one-word answer. Never in our six-year friendship have you responded to me that way, even when you’re in a bad mood.”
You tongue your cheek as he stops the cart in the snack aisle, your eyes floating immediately to the cinnamon biscuits right next to his head. He reaches for them, tossing the box into his cart without a second thought before reading the ingredients on a box of almond cookies, “next, you lie to me. A bold-faced lie, and to my face, at that.”
“I lied to your phone screen, dramatic ass.” You mutter, watching the way his fingers drum against the yellow box. He’s wearing the ring you’d given him for Christmas last year, the white gold snug on his thumb as he hums. He puts the box back, grabbing another with a click of his tongue.
“That I pay the bill on, mind you. So, you’re wasting time and money instead of just telling me what your deal is.”
“There is no deal, Mingyu. I’m not BOGO.” You snort, shifting on your couch and resting your arm under your head. He looks at the phone, tossing the cookies into his cart, “I should be glad, BOGO of you would kill me. You’re more like buy one, get one half off.”
“I think I’m more of a buy-two, get one free.”
“That’s even worse. One of you is more than enough. And that’s coming from me, someone who gets all of you regularly and happily, at that.”
“‘All of me’ is a technicality.” You roll your eyes, only watching the tips of his ears turn pink as he analyzes yet another box. Crackers this time, cheddar ones. Not your favorite, and infinitely inferior to the Parmesan ones.
“Be realistic, there’s no one but me. You’re just for me.” He murmurs, but the microphone catches it anyway. You tongue your cheek as he puts the box back, instead grabbing the Parmesan ones and throwing them in the cart. Your cheeks heat slightly as he nibbles on his lip, likely deep in thought as he looks over his cart.
“Even if that’s true, you could still be nice to me.”
“I’m so nice to you! I make you dinner, I buy you flowers, and I check in with you regularly. I get you gifts, I fixed your leaky faucet, and I rewired your entire gaming system after you moved into your apartment and didn’t want to figure it out. I’m the nicest guy ever, especially to you.” He huffs, and you let out a chuckle that makes his lips twitch. He masks it by sucking his teeth, and you shrug with an amused look on your face.
“You cook me dinner because you want to, you buy me flowers because you feel guilty and you check in with me because your job keeps you from actually seeing me more than once or twice a month. You get me gifts to make up for the fact that you’re not around as often, you fixed my leaky faucet because I practically begged you to, and you rewired my gaming system because you and Wonwoo wanted to play GTA for six hours.” You point your finger at him, watching the way he nods before picking up his phone. The camera pauses, the sound of Left Right by XG playing in the store the only sound coming from his end.
NEW! Message from: Mingyu ♡
[5:10 PM] i also go down on you because i want to, and i fuck you because i want to. but i don’t hear you complaining about that, hm?
“Because I want it, too.” You ignore the heart surging on your cheeks as you watch the message bubble pop up again.
NEW! Message from: Mingyu ♡
[5:11 PM] then be nice to me before i stop doing that for us, pillow princess.
“I am not a pillow princess! You just never let me do anything!”
The camera unpauses, showing Mingyu rolling his eyes and feigning disinterest before he sets the phone back down, “tell me what’s up or I’m coming over impromptu. I won’t give you time to tidy up, either.”
“You wouldn’t do that; you probably have a nice steak in your basket. You wanna go home and cook it and text me all about how I’m missing out because I live six blocks away and won’t walk to your place because those heels I wear make me too tired.” You snicker, watching the way he mimics you and moves his hand in a talking motion. You only laugh harder, “Mingyu!”
“Little louder, sweetheart. The neigbors know my name, anyway.”
“Kim Mingyu, I am a lady.”
“A loud one,” he snorts, sucking his teeth as he makes his way down the liquor aisle. “Are you free on Friday or not? Enthusiastically free, happy-to-see-your-Mingyu free. Not that sure shit, have some respect.”
“My Mingyu?” You smirk, but it’s a front. Your stomach is fluttering like crazy and you watch the way he bites back his smile to raise a brow at you.
“You know any other Mingyus?”
“Park Mingyu from the finance team that has had the hots for me since before you moved to the city.”
“He doesn’t count, he’s in finance. You’d get bored in two days.” He rolls his eyes again, “yes or no, sweetheart? My schedule fills up fast and I’m actively trying to get you in.”
“More like you’re trying to get in me.”
“That too, but all I’m hearing right now is that you hate me. That’s not all I have you around for, you know.”
You roll your eyes, sighing. He’s raking his eyes over you through the camera, grabbing a bottle of wine off the shelf as if it’s muscle memory. The label reads EISA Cabernet – your favorite. Particularly, when he makes you a thick steak with scalloped potatoes and asparagus that almost guarantees you fuck him within an inch of his life.
And he never complains.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing, Gyu. I promise.”
He crosses his arms, “I don’t believe you.”
“Then don’t.”
“You hate me.”
“Sometimes, when you make my steak too rare or you pull out.”
“Haha, so funny.” He sticks his tongue out at you, and you can tell by the signs on the ceiling that he’s moving to the checkout line. “You’re really not gonna tell me what’s up with you?”
“What do you want me to say, Mingyu? That I’m in distress? That I’m having a bad day?” You joke, before pouting exaggeratedly, “oh, please, Mingyu. I’ve had such a long, lonely day. Come over, I need you.”
“Stop that.” He huffs, crossing his arms as he leans on the cart. You laugh again, running your hand through your hair as you feel his eyes trailing you. You raise a brow as his eyes stop on your chest, and you dramatically cover the bit of cleavage your V-neck sweater shows. He scoffs, tonguing his cheek as he gets a register, carefully parking the cart. “Tilt the camera to your face, I don’t need strangers seeing your whole chest.”
“It’s not even my chest, dipshit. It’s my necklace at best.”
“Necklace I gave you.”
“Never pegged you to be a jealous, possessive man, Mr. Kim.”
“You don’t know a lot of things about me,” he shrugs, and you stick your tongue out at him as he scans his things. He shakes his head as you watch him, your eyes shamelessly trained on his arms as he moves about, before he snaps his fingers in front of the camera, “must you eye fuck me like that?”
“Listen, friends can admire one another’s beauty. That’s part of it.”
“Sure, sweetheart. Friends also tell each other what’s bothering them, but I guess we’re not all that of friends, hm?”
The double entendre makes you scoff as he swipes his card, his receipt printing loudly as he makes faces at you. You don’t speak as he takes the receipt and tucks it into his pocket, listening to him sweetly thank the aunties at the exit as he leaves with his cart. He whistles, “so? What’s wrong with you?”
You don’t reply, simply turning onto your belly and resting your cheek against the heel of your palm. You prop your phone up against the armrest of your couch, making a show of pulling your sweater down enough that it shows the white lace of your bra.
“Tease.” He chides as he pops the trunk, “come on, tell me. Because you’re gonna piss me off and then we’re both in a mood.”
“I’m really fine, Gyu. I’m tired, I’m gonna eat some leftovers...maybe watch a movie. It's just one of those days, you know?” You shrug, “it’s not like anything is particularly wrong. I just feel weird, and that’s okay.”
You’re lying through your teeth, but he doesn’t look all that convince anyway as you hear the timer in your kitchen start going off. You give him a quick smile, “my food’s ready, so I gotta go but I’ll see you on Friday, Gyu. I promise I’m excited to see you.”
“Well, you’d still need the context of what’s happening on Friday, but sure.” He shrugs, “just...are you sure you’re okay? I can cancel. I’ll work around you, honey, just let me know.”
You smile inwardly, pushing off the couch and taking your phone with you into the kitchen. You prop it up against your toaster as you reach for a bowl on your tiptoes, “I would say no if I didn’t want to see you, Mingyu.”
“I know, but—”
“Mingyu, baby, please.” You set the bowl down, putting your hands on your hips. He’s in his car now, pulling his seatbelt on as he balances you on the steering wheel. He’s pouting, “expect that impromptu visit anyway.”
“You never follow through with those, so I will not be cleaning my apartment tonight and I will be in my PJs by nine.” You respond, crossing your arms on your chest as you watch him roll his shoulders back – the fabric of his shirt taut against his chest. He catches you staring at him, his ears tinging pink once more as you smile cheekily, “I’ll see you on Friday. Drive safe, okay?”
“I will. I’ll see you later, baby.”
The call ends before he can see you process the petname. Your cheeks are hot as you stare at your home screen, a picture of you that Mingyu took at a burger joint after you and your ex-boyfriend broke up. You had a smear of ketchup on your cheek and Mingyu’s fingers pinching the other – he'd taken you out because you had been the one to break things off after yet another jealous fit about you being friends with Mingyu.
When you think about it, he ended up being right – just six months after the breakup, you’d slept with Mingyu for the first time.
Jaehyun had always been iffy about Mingyu, but you didn’t understand it then, or ever. The two of you had been dating for six months when he met Mingyu, your friend of two years at that point. They met at your birthday party, and Mingyu had been incredibly sweet – he'd greeted him with a firm handshake, complimented his shirt and watch, and asked what he was drinking. Jaehyun had stiffened slightly, likely at the way Mingyu towered over him; but his face soured when Mingyu greeted you next, the way he always had.
With that damn cheek kiss.
His aftershave was particularly minty that night, and it made something in your stomach lurch but you ignored it. Jaehyun was quiet that entire night, even later when you were both in bed together and he was on top of you – he murmured it, effectively killing your buzz and starting a fight.
“I don’t like that Mingyu guy.”
Your relationship was no more than two years of weird jealousy afterwards. Jaehyun, however, was worse than you were in the weird terms and conditions of dating these days – he still followed his ex-girlfriends on social media and frequently engaged with their posts (you didn’t care.) He still talked to his most recent ex-girlfriend's mother, who he claimed said that he was like a son to her (again, you didn’t give a shit.)
It seemed to bother Jaehyun that you did not care what he was doing with his ‘friends’ of the opposite sex. He seemed annoyed that you could frequently hang out with your friends without caring about what he thought – posing in photobooths for pictures with your life-long friends Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Seokmin, getting dinner with your old coworker (and BFF-by-proxy) Hansol Chwe, taking shots with said BFF Boo Seungkwan at your favorite bar to celebrate his birthday...
Posting pictures of you and Mingyu at a farmer’s market the autumn before the breakup, trying spiked apple cider and pumpkin soup that you ended up bringing home for him to try.
Jaehyun didn’t like that you had friends he didn’t like. He didnt like that you had male friends period, but you simply did not care and especially not when he went on and on about Mingyu like he had a crush on him. You listened to his jealous rants about Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan and Hansol silently, merely peering up at him through your lashes and sipping whatever drink was closest. However, he really amped it up when he met Mingyu – and went as far as saying he was sure Mingyu wanted to sleep with you.
Only for you to find out in two weeks time that Mingyu had been across town that same night, breaking up with his girlfriend for saying the exact same thing about you.
She was so sure you wanted Mingyu.
And the truth was, you’d never thought about it – ever. You’d met Mingyu in grad school, through Seokmin – and your first memory of one another was at a horrible group interview for an internship that neither of you got. You stayed in touch following the months after graduation, only getting closer as Mingyu moved to your city a year after and needed friends to hang out with.
You were almost always one of those friends. If you couldn’t make it, he still made it a point to swing by your place and bring you something from wherever it was that he’d gone. Sometimes it was a thick slice of chocolate cake, sometimes it was an entire baked potato that he’d ordered to-go so you’d have something for lunch the next day. Sometimes it was just a handful of butter mints he’d stolen from the register attendant along with a colorful toothpick.
Mingyu is just like that. Sweet and caring and he is a good man. A Good Man, even, with capital letters and capital claim on your heart.
You sigh, turning your phone off and leaving it on the counter as you limply serve yourself your dinner. The stew isn’t as filling as it would’ve been had Mingyu made it, but you don’t let your mind linger on him too much as you eat on your couch and watch a YouTube video dissecting Pretty Little Liars.
Because thinking about Mingyu is bad for your heart. You can’t close your eyes when you do it, either – or his body flashes in your mind, the sounds he makes when he’s got your hands pinned to the mattress, the way he calls you baby between kisses that make your skin feel like it’s on fire. You can’t close your eyes without remembering the smell of his aftershave filling your nostrils, his fingers tugging at your clothes or the way he coos when you beg him to touch you anywhere.
Or...it’s worse, and you remember how good a boyfriend he would be. How good of a husband he would be – always having a spare change of shoes for you in his trunk for those times you’d go out to dinner or to hang out. Always offering his jacket, always holding your hand when you cross the street, always pulling you close when someone thinks it’s okay to get too comfortable with you. How he smooths a hand over your hair out of nervous habit as you worm through farmer’s markets and malls, how he’s easily thrown you over his shoulder several times when you’re throwing an embarrassing fit at a pub or a bar.
When he kisses you slowly, in his car that smells like him and you before you both get down. How he thumbs at your earrings when you’re sitting next to him at a restaurant or the movies, and his arm is draped over your shoulders. How he speaks to you softly and listens to you intently – actively interested in everything you have to say and what it means to you.
How he cares.
It has to be torture, being involved with Kim Mingyu the way you are.
But is it torture, at hands so gentle? Lips so soft, words so sweet, a heart so full?
You don’t think so.
9:32 PM.
You’d finished dinner hours ago, and your television was quietly playing some random Spotify playlist. The Kill by Thirty Seconds To Mars is filling your ears as you trill your lips dramatically and scroll on your work laptop, finalizing a presentation while sprawled across your couch.
Against your better judgment, you’d cleaned your apartment haphazardly and you took a long shower – but like any girl awaiting potential company, you put on yet another sweater and a skirt (that you dug out of the back of your closet; one that you’d caught Mingyu staring at you in ages ago.) Your pajamas laid neatly folded on your pillowcase, and you told yourself you’d get in bed by 9:45.
It’s unlikely that Mingyu will come by. You checked his location ten minutes ago, and he was at his apartment – likely cuddled up in his bed with all six of his pillows. Mingyu rarely leaves the house after eight on weekdays, anyway...unless he’s seeing you.
The time barely ticks past 9:33 p.m. when you hear a soft knock at the door – making you jolt up so fast, you feel something pinch in your neck. You still – glimpsing at the time on your laptop before checking your phone for any potentially missed messages. Mingyu usually texts you if he’s actually coming over...so it can’t be him.
No lights are on in your apartment but your stove one, so it only makes the atmosphere more tense. You stand up quietly and set your laptop down on your coffee table before hearing another knock – louder this time, the clink of metal on glass making you jump.
“Y/N, open this damn door.”
Mingyu’s voice on the other side makes all fear in your body dissipate in favor of annoyance, and you make your way over; unlocking the door quickly and huffing as you open it. He’s leaning coolly against the frame, holding a bouquet as usual – but you put your hands on your hips as you look up at him.
You hate the way your cheeks grow hot at his soft smile.
“It’s not Friday, Kim Mingyu.”
“I can still bring you flowers, baby.”
“Blah, blah, blah.” You make a face at him, opening the door further to let him in and turning on your heel – only to feel his arm wrap around your waist and gently pull your back into his chest. He smells like that same aftershave, your skin prickling as you glance up at him.
“Is that how you greet your guests?”
“You’re hardly a guest, Mingyu. Guests don’t know where my silverware is.”
“Or that you keep lube in your nightstand.” He whispers, squeezing your hip as you swat at his arm. You scowl at him as he presses a kiss on your forehead, “I told you I was coming.”
“It’s damn near ten at night.”
“So? I can just stay over.”
“You just wanna fuck me.”
“Or I miss you, baby.” He murmurs, pressing another kiss to your temple. “I miss you a lot, actually.”
“Breaking news: Kim Mingyu admits he misses his dearest, smartest, prettiest friend ever. More at eleven.” You snort, letting him turn you around as he smiles. You let him fully wrap his arms around you, your nose filling with that damn aftershave as he smoothly picks you up; your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck as he kicks your door shut with a kiss to your cheek.
“Kim Mingyu does,” he replies gently, and you feel shy as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek before kissing it again. Once, twice, three times. “I stopped by Chan’s, but he only had these and a few others. You like?”
You can hardly see the flowers, and Mingyu seems to recognize that as he flicks on your dining room light. Warm yellow rays fill the area, your eyes blinking rapidly to adjust as you glance at the flowers between you. Large white daisies are mere centimeters from your face, and you stop yourself from smiling to raise a brow at him.
“These are your birth flower.”
“You’re supposed to like everything about me, and that includes my birth flower.”
You roll your eyes, thumbing at the petals as he presses another kiss to your jaw, “yeah, they’re cute. I like.”
“Good, because I fucked up and also ordered another one for next week when I’m not going to see you, so you’ll be getting this twice but as delivery. I might get another just to apologize but that’s a quest for Later Mingyu.” He speaks against your cheek, pressing kiss after kiss on the warm skin, “missed you, missed you, missed you.”
“You’re smothering me!” You whine, feeling him pepper the side of your face with kisses, “Mingyu!”
“You complain I don’t see you enough, and you complain when I do. You’re never satisfied,” he jokes, carefully setting the flowers down on your dining room table to hold you closer. His hands are gripping your thighs, the material of your skirt straining against them as you press a kiss on the column of his throat, “thank you for the flowers.”
He shivers, “you always say thank you. Don’t thank me for the bare minimum.”
“I don’t get you flowers, Mingyu.”
“You should start. I like flowers and being smothered and impromptu visits with at my apartment with my dearest, smartest, prettiest girl, Y/N.”
You roll your eyes, ignoring the fluttering in your belly as you shake your head, “you’re impossible, Kim Mingyu.”
“Yeah, well...you love me anyway.”
“That’s an incredible assumption.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.” You scoff, limply shoving his shoulder. He sucks his teeth, kicking his shoes off and clearly choosing to ignore your bait as he tightens his hold on your thighs, “what are you doing here, Mingyu? You’re not making dinner, and you clearly don’t have a plan in mind...so what do you want?”
He raises a brow, “I want to see you. Ask about your day. Also, steal some of those almonds you have hidden in your nightstand, next to your lube.”
“You just want me for what I can provide.”
“I want you for lots of things and lots of reasons, but what can you provide that I won’t willingly give you, anyway?”
You can smell the mint on his breath, like he’d brushed his teeth before getting to your apartment. Your eyes trail him silently, taking in the soft fabric of his casual t-shirt against the inside of your knees. Your skirt is starting to ride up, snug against your midthighs as you click your tongue in defeat.
“Exactly.” He says pointedly, squeezing your thigh as he flicks the dining room light off again, making you tighten your grip around him as he moves to turn on the lamp in your living room. He looks over your head at the television with an amused look, “are you sure you’re not sad or something? What’s with the ambiance?”
“You insist something is wrong with me, but I promise you,” you lamely hit the side of your closed fist to his chest, “I am fine.”
He gives you a knowing look in the moody lighting, before leaning down slightly. He glances at your lips, silently begging for a kiss only for you to roll your eyes and do the same. He smiles shamelessly, kissing you gently before looking around once more.
“It’s so dark in here.”
“I was just finishing stuff for work.”
“What have I told you about working off the clock? Stop working for free, they pay you shit as it is.” He squeezes your thighs for emphasis, and you suck in a quick breath involuntarily. You scrunch your nose as he grins, before smacking his shoulder gently.
“You’re the last person who can tell me that, you’re a workaholic. I see you twice a damn month because you’re always holed up in that office.” You shove a finger in his chest, only for him to press another kiss to your lips as you pout, “Mingyu!”
“You are so annoying, baby.” He murmurs, nipping at your lips like he might die if he doesn’t. “You can’t even appreciate that I took time out of my very busy schedule to come see you. And let’s not forget you love my job when it means you get to see me in a suit.”
“I’m going to ignore that for the sake of my sanity. What is so important about having dinner and jerking off for an hour that you think you’re doing me a favor?”
“I do not jerk off for an hour.” He scoffs, "I merely think about you for forty minutes and then I—”
“Enough. The point is that you do it. Like a loser. You’ll get carpal tunnel, you know.” You say with a sniff, your lips twitching as he laughs. He makes his way to your couch, sitting on the chaise at the end of it. He leans back into the cushions, smoothly adjusting you on his lap as he stuffs a throw pillow under his head to look at you. “Tell me why you’re here, Mingyu.”
“If you need a reason, it’s that I genuinely missed you. If that wasn’t already obvious.” He speaks sincerely, raking his fingers gently through your hair and earning a shiver. He tugs at it lightly, smirking as you let out a quipped whine before smacking his hip, “I just wanted to see you.”
“You’re holding me hostage against you, Mingyu.”
“Because you’ll sit a mile away unless I do. It’s like you avoid me.”
“I don’t avoid you, idiot. You just radiate so much heat that it makes me wanna die, I hate sweating.” You remind him, lowering yourself so you’re chest-to-chest with him, but propping yourself on your elbows to still hover over him. He plucks at the hem of your sweater, dipping his fingertips beneath the fabric; cool against your hip as he tilts his head, “that is true.”
“I know.”
“Can you hurry up and say you missed me, too? I’m starting to feel a disconnect.”
You purse your lips as you hold back your laughter, his pouted lips making you cover your mouth as you swallow your cackle.
“I did, I missed you.” You admit wholeheartedly, shrugging your shoulders as he tugs at the necklace he gave you, “of course I missed my Mingyu.”
“Not Park Mingyu from finance, right?” He sulks, tucking his chin to his chest as you chuckle, pinching his cheek between your knuckles carefully.
“Not Park Mingyu from finance, no. Don’t you know? I’d be bored in two days.”
“Exactly,” he huffs, wrapping his fingers gingerly around your throat, “can I stay? Or do you want me to leave?”
“It’s always nice when you stay over. However, you’re late for dinner and lack of punctuality does knock ten points off for Kim Mingyu. Still in first place, but you’re pushing it.”
“I’m sorry,” he nods, squeezing the sides of your neck gently before his lips plant a soft kiss on your forehead, “should we go to your room?”
“That’s incredibly suggestive, Mr. Kim.”
“It’s only suggestive if you make it suggestive, baby.”
“You calling me baby only cements my point.”
“Okay, maybe. But you could have some mercy on me.” He mumbles, pressing another kiss to your nose. You raise a brow, “are you sure you’re not the one who has a problem? You’ve been in my face since you got here, I’m literally on top of you. The world won’t end if you’re not touching me, you know.”
“I’m just used to having you close.” He shrugs, “I missed you.”
“Mingyu, you’ve said that so much that the words don’t even sound real anymore. You’ve been here for ten minutes and you’ve said it six times.”
“So? Is there a problem?” He mumbles against your lips, your breath hitching as he bridges the gap. His hands move to your hips, fingertips digging into the fabric of your skirt as he sits up carefully. Your hands palm at his chest as he pulls you impossibly closer, your skin littering with goosebumps as he slides his hands down your thighs. Your own shoot out to grab his wrists, pulling his hands away and pinning them to the couch before pulling away with a soft pant. He tries to kiss your jaw, his lips brushing your skin as you crane your neck away.
“What on Earth has gotten into you? Did you finally give into those stupid honey packs that Soonyoung was talking about the last time we all hung out?”
He scoffs, “absolutely not. You know I like this skirt, don’t play coy.”
You snort, dropping his hands to cross your arms on your chest. His fingers trace tight circles into your left knee, before he glances at your sweater with an amused look. He leans back on one hand, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he raises a brow.
“You knew I was coming.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then you were hoping I would, baby.”
“Shut up. You’re supposed to be at home, and I should be in my bed right now.” You mutter, tonguing your cheek as you see your laptop turn off due to inactivity out of the corner of your eye. You glance back at him, his eyes trailing the slope of your neck as you clear your throat and run a hand through your hair, “how was your day?”
“Funny you should ask. Kim Mingyu has had his first official bad day at the office.” He nods, pressing his lips into a thin line that makes you bite back a laugh. “People are entitled, and I usually get through it pretty well, but today was just off the damn charts. I was late to work this morning, and I had to push back a presentation because I fucking lost my thumb drive because I left it at home. An intern tried to tell me my numbers were wrong, when I checked the math not once, but three separate times. We got into a nasty argument, also something new for me.”
He shrugs, “I sent her home early and I left an hour after lunch. Bought groceries, made dinner...life goes on but today was actually such shit. So...it’s nice to see you.”
“I think you forgot ‘tried to flirt with Y/N’ somewhere in there. I think during the whole ‘brought groceries’ part.” You let your cheeks warm as you tilt your head at him, only to earn a devilish smile paired with a one-armed shrug as he taps your knee with his knuckle.
“I didn’t try to do anything.” He leans back on his elbow, sucking his teeth as you raise a brow at him, “I was merely stating facts. I’m nice to you, and you’re a pillow princess. One plus one has always been two, baby.”
“You are nice to me, that’s true. But you’re the one—”
“A lady like yourself mustn’t get her hands dirty for pleasure. That’s what I’m here for.”
His eyes are pointed, and you conjure an annoyed look as you poke a finger into his side. He squeals, grabbing your wrists and pulling you down on top of him, “stop that. Tell me about your day.”
“Nothing happened.” You shrug, pushing yourself up. Your hands are on either side of his head as you stick your tongue out at him, only for him to do the same and touch the tip of yours with his. You scrunch your nose as he snorts, before calling your bluff.
“You’re lying.”
“Hm...I broke my favorite pair of earrings. I tripped going up the stairs when I came back from getting lunch at that bistro we like in downtown. Park Mingyu from Finance asked me to dinner. Nothing insane.”
It’s not a lie.
But it’s been a few weeks since it happened. It was a rare day in the office for you, and you’d been in and out of meetings all mornings – but he caught you just as you got in the elevator to meet Soonyoung for lunch.
Park Mingyu wasn’t bad looking, and he was nice enough. He just...worked in finance, of all things, and had that same monotonous voice most finance men do. He didn’t slouch, but his tie was almost always haphazardly thrown on and you’d fixed it for him one time – but you figured one time was enough to get him hooked.
Kim Mingyu is looking up at you through his lashes, his hands seemingly now lost on what to do as he pulls them off your waist. His eyes are darting all over your face – likely looking for a hint at you kidding. A quirk of your lip, a twitch of your brow, something – but the silence between you only gets thicker as his jaw grows slightly tense.
“...did you give him an answer?”
“No. I said I’d think about it.”
Mingyu scoffs.
He actually scoffs, like how dare you have the audacity to tell someone else you’d think about giving them a positive answer to their dinner invitation? How dare you, when you know you’d likely not like your food? And then it’s awkward for weeks, before you get a paragraph to your work number about how Park Mingyu is such a nice guy – from Park Mingyu himself.
The man beneath you runs a hand through his hair, and you sit up to allow him to do the same. He does, unzipping his sweater and shrugging it off before he tosses it over the side of your couch.
You resist the urge to run your hands up his bare arms, cursing the way his shirt fits against his chest so snugly.
“When did he ask you? During lunch? Did you go to the office today?”
“Two weeks ago.”
You shift slightly in his lap, your cheeks hot as he stares at you. There’s a mix of emotions in his gaze – confusion, amusement...a bit of anger, you want to think.
A bit of jealousy.
“And you’re telling me this now?”
“I didn’t think I had to tell you. We’re not...dating.”
The word comes out choked. You feel it; he hears it, and your legs tighten subconsciously around his thighs. He glances down at them, his eyes catching a faded bite on your inner thigh from two weeks ago; his thumb pushing the hem of your skirt up high enough to make it visible to your eyes, should you look down.
“Are you gonna say yes?” His voice is level, but he’s not looking at you. In the low light, you can see the tightness in his jaw, the way he tongues his cheek before you feel his fingers tap your thigh, “are you?”
Your throat feels dry as you steal a glimpse of the flowers on your dining table.
“Y/N.”
You let out a forced chuckle, “c’mon, you know me, Gyu. He’s in finance. I really would get bored in two days. A few hours, even.”
He doesn’t seem convinced, “that’s not a no.”
“What do you want me to say, Mingyu?” You run a hand down the front of your sweater nervously, bunching the fabric in your palm as he leans forward slightly. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, not managing to shake his focus like the action usually would.
“That you’ll say no.” He says plainly, before scoffing as a smile of disbelief crosses his lips. “In fact, I don’t even know why you’re entertaining the idea of it when we both know you’d never say yes unless something happened between us.”
For a moment, you dislike Mingyu. Your eyes narrow as you look down at him, tracing his features as he clicks his tongue.
“What is this ‘us’ you’re referring to?” You speak softly, but clearly – splaying your hands on your knees as you lean into his space. “What do you mean by ‘us,’ Mingyu? What does ‘us’ mean to you?”
“You and I.”
“What about you and I?”
His hand leaves your thigh, and he has the gall to roll his eyes as he runs it over his face.
“You’d never say yes to Park, because you have me. You don’t need anyone else.”
“What makes you think I even need you?”
“The fact that you melt in my hands the moment I walk through that door.” He’s in your face, his breath wafting against your lips as he maintains eye contact. “You forget the world exists when I’m with you, and it’s the only time I’ve ever seen you relax. You love having me around, and you love me. You don’t have to say it for me to know.”
You want to pretend that he can’t feel the way you freeze on top of him. His eyes widen slightly as you swallow carefully, “love...is a stretch, Kim.”
“We both know it’s not.”
“You’re insane.”
“Then what does that make you, hm?” His hands are back on you, massaging the tension in your thighs that only makes your back rigid. A shiver snakes down your spine as his thumb brushes the cotton of your underwear, “what does that make you, baby?”
“I hate it when you call me that,” you blurt, and he has an unimpressed look on his face when you double down, “I hate it, Mingyu.”
“Yet, you pout when I call you Y/N.”
“Well, just call me Y/N anyway.”
You huff, moving to get up but he holds you in place – his grip firm as he pulls you into him. Your chest hits his as you avoid his gaze, your arms stiff between your bodies as you give up on getting off him.
“Still wanna tell me nothing’s wrong?” He mumbles, his eyes soft as he wraps his arms around your waist. You don’t reply, tonguing your cheek as you feel the stupid burn in your throat as you focus your line of sight on the flowers he put on the table.
Cute. Soft. Delicate.
An extension of him.
You swallow hard, blinking rapidly as you speak quietly, “what are we doing?”
He sighs, resting his forehead against your shoulder, “I don’t know. I thought I’d have an answer by now.”
“You don’t know,” you repeat, “because you didn’t want to ask me or because you thought I’d ask first?”
“Both.”
“Coward.”
The word is bitter as it leaves your mouth, but you can’t move. You don’t want to move – the fear of him slipping through your fingers overpowering as your hands grip his shoulders like he’s going to disappear. He leans into your touch, burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. He doesn’t say anything, but you feel his lips brush against your skin as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers card through the hair at the nape of his neck, the smell of his shampoo making you melt into his embrace.
“Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is muffled against your neck, “please. Please.”
“I don’t know if you are, Mingyu.” You can’t recognize the sound of your own voice, thick and uncertain. His grip on you tightens, and you feel a shaky breath against your neck as you pull back, trying to meet his eyes. He stares at the necklace around the base of your throat, the seashell-shaped locket glinting in the light.
“I can be. I want to be.” He’s barely speaking above a whisper as his fingertip taps the locket, hooking around the chain and giving a careful tug. “Do you know why I gave this to you?”
You glance down at it, “because you were in Bali and it was on sale?”
He snorts, the air around the two of you settling evenly on your shoulders, “no. Well, I was in Bali, but no it wasn’t on sale and that’s not why I got it.”
“All I’m getting is that you went to Bali without me.”
“Yeah, well. I couldn’t be around you in all those pretty dresses you wear when it’s hot out.” He sighs, “seashells are a symbol of love.”
“Doesn’t mean you’re in love with me.”
He shrugs slightly, popping the shell open to reveal it empty, “it’s said that seashells are associated with Aphrodite, the goddess of love. That they represent the warmth and care and security of love, because they protect the pearl that grows inside that shell.”
He clears his throat, closing the locket with a click.
“The point of the locket was to put a picture of us in there, someday. It’s been six months since I gave this to you, and I think about it everyday.” He ducks his head like he’s afraid of the truth spilling from his mouth, but he can’t stop talking. “Sometimes, I think you were made for me, as stupid as that might sound. Like Eve was made for Adam, from his rib, or something like that.”
You can feel your eyes burning as you watch him nibble on his lip, his hands restless as he moves them from around you to the hem of your skirt before gripping the cushion beneath you both.
“I don’t know much about falling in love,” he admits, “but...I know that you saved all the flowers I gave you, bits of them, even before we started doing whatever we’re doing. A part of me wants to believe that you saved them because you wanted to keep me around, even if it was just the flowers I gave you...because I’ve kept all the receipts from Chan’s shop when I’ve bought them. I always liked giving you flowers because you like them, but after the first time we kissed...it felt romantic and I just wanted to make your life even just a little brighter and, ugh, I don’t know. Tell me I’m ruining this and I’ll shut up.”
You blink at him silently, shaking your head before sliding your hands down his arms, “have I told you that you talk a lot?”
“Many times.”
“Have I ever told you to stop?”
You raise a brow as you find his hand, slotting your fingers with his and curling them around his palm. His rings dig into your skin but you don’t care, “continue, Mr. Kim.”
“I hate when you call me that.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know,” he rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are pink as you press your lips to them gingerly, “I’m not...it’s hard for me to make time for people. You’ve seen it, you know it’s true because I’ve only been able to get you in every couple weeks and trust me, it’s fucking torture. They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder but I truly cannot fathom ever wanting to be away from you. It makes my chest hurt when I wake up after seeing you and I have to leave.”
“You don’t have to.” You shrug, “leave, I mean. You can stay. Forever, if you wanted to.”
His chuckle is almost humorless, “I’d never get anything done.”
You nod silently, tracing circles into the back of his hand with your thumb before you glance up at him. You let go of his hand to cradle his cheek carefully, watching the way he leans into your touch. His arm wraps around your waist again, pulling you down with him as he lays back against the cushions once more.
“So...I can be yours. If you want me to be. If you’ll have me, rather.”
You don’t respond, chewing on your cheek while pinching his between your knuckles. A silence blankets over you both, even as he brushes a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. You scrunch it, before resting your head on his chest with a click of your tongue, feeling his hand push the hem of your shirt up – fingers drumming against the warm skin of your hip.
“Earlier, you said I needed context for Friday. What’s that about?”
“My parents are in town.” He blurts, and your eyes widen as you jerk away from him, “I wanted you to meet them.”
You scan his face, your lips parting as you sit up. Your knees dig into his hips as you run a hand through your hair, letting out a chuckle of disbelief.
“Surely they don’t know we’re in this entanglement.”
“...They think we’re together.”
“Mingyu!” You choke on his name, earning a wince as you give his shoulder a slight shove. He pouts, grabbing your wrists and pulling you back on top of him, “why would you tell them that?! Why do they even know about me?!”
“Because I love you.” His voice makes you still, his eyes serious as he bores them into you. A wavering uncertainty is laced in them, mixed with that same pure adoration that he always held in even a wayward glance your way. Your hands curl into fists, your nails digging into your palm before he forces them open and interlaces your fingers. His thumbs trace circles on the back of your hands, nervously nibbling on his lip before he clears his throat.
“I love you, and I’m a coward but I cannot imagine being without you. It makes my stomach hurt to think about it, it makes me nauseous when I think about someone else having you the way I do. Someone else bringing you flowers and making you dinner and kissing you stupid when they don’t deserve you to begin with is an atrocious thing to think about. I love you, and I want to be your emergency contact. I want to make you dinner and rub your feet and I want to put a shiny ring on your finger. I want to listen to you sing in the shower, I want you to tell me it’s not a duet when I join in and I want to make good on any and every promise I ever let fall into you. I love you, and I want you, only. For the rest of our lives.”
Your nose burns as tears prick at your eyes, and you tear your hands from his to dig the heels of your palms into your eyes – coating them in said hot tears. Your voice is thick, “God, you suck.”
“I just put my heart on a platter for you.”
“That’s exactly why you suck, because now I can’t tell Park Mingyu I’ll have dinner with him.”
Your joke is ill received as he scoffs, crossing his arms on his chest as you wipe at your face haphazardly before leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. Your hands cradle his face gently, thumbs rubbing his cheeks back and forth as he sulks, “I love you, Mingyu.”
“Kim Mingyu.”
“I love you, Kim Mingyu.”
He lets you kiss him, uncrossing his arms and pulling you close. His fingers dip beneath your sweater, squeezing your hips as he teases his tongue into your mouth – minty and gentle as your hands move to tug at his shirt. He stops you by abruptly sitting up, cupping your ass as he stands from the couch. Your legs wrap around his waist as his lips trail your jaw, nipping at your neck as he takes you to your bedroom, nudging the door closed with his foot.
“Wanna prove it?”
“Not a pillow princess, my ass.” Mingyu’s arm is tight around your waist, his hand holding your phone as your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “Pretty girl gave up a minute in.”
“I’m just used to a...certain lifestyle,” you whimper into his neck, before hearing the unmistakeable sound of a call dialing. You look over your shoulder wearily, watching Mingyu put the call on speaker. It picks up as he holds it to your face, pulling your head back gently by your hair, “tell him you’re having dinner with your in-laws.”
“Hello?”
“H-Hey, sorry for c-calling so late,” you stutter, your eyes squeezing shut as Mingyu’s hips rock up into you slowly. “A-are you busy?”
“Never too busy for you. Are you alright? You sound...choppy.”
Mingyu gives a hard thrust then, a whine tearing from your throat as you attempt to cough, “sorry, I’m g-good! I just w-wanted to let you know that I c-can't have dinner.”
“Oh...can I ask why? I mean, I’ve been pretty nice to you for as long as I’ve known you. Could warrant a date night.”
“She’s having dinner with her in-laws, bud. Tell him, baby.” Mingyu speaks clearly, an embarrassed moan falling from your lips as his grip on your waist tightens, “tell him.”
“I’m having d-dinner with m-my in-laws...” You pant out, your lips brushing his neck as your hand blindly reached around to hang up on the Finance Guy rambling about how you led him on. Mingyu tosses your phone to the side as his hand snakes between you to cup one of your breasts in his hand, “you might have to quit.”
You nod breathlessly as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, “they pay me shit anyway.”
“New position at my firm opened up.”
“God, shut up and fuck me.”
He chuckles, flipping you onto your back smoothly and pressing a kiss to the side of your face.
“Pillow. Princess.”
“THREE YEARS IS A LONG TIME WITH NO RING, MINGYU.”
Mrs. Kim’s eyes are pointed as her son tongues his cheek, and you bite back your smile as you tip your wine glass towards your lips.
He had mentioned they’d say something along these lines – of course, he only mentioned more details of the ‘relationship’ they knew on the car ride there. Everything in the storyline was essentially the same, if you ignored that Mingyu admitted he’d fallen head over heels in love with you after the first time you slept together and the two of you had only been officially in a relationship for the last thirty-six hours.
“Y/N just started a new job, Mom. It wouldn’t be wise to...take that step in this juncture of her career.” He’s spitballing, and his sister nearly spits her wine out across the table as Mr. Kim snorts. “It’s true! Babe, tell them!”
You fail at holding in your laughter, your shoulders shaking as you nod, “I did just get a new job. But I agree, three years is a long time without a ring.”
“Babe.”
“I’m just saying, you could put some pep in your step.”
He sulks in his chair, barely sinking down two inches as everyone at the table bursts into fits of giggling, “I’m trying to take your life into consideration, too!”
“Time is money, Mingyu.” You say, pinching his cheek between your knuckles. You lean over, pressing a soft kiss to the apple of his cheek – leaving a stamp of your lipstick on the skin as the waiter returns with the check. Mrs. Kim smiles as you reach for it instinctively, the grin only growing wider as Mingyu snatches it out of your hand and shoves his card inside the booklet before you can even protest.
“At least tell me he’s taking good care of you.” Mrs. Kim’s voice is soft as you all step out of the restaurant, and you feel your cheeks heat in the cool November air as you nod.
“Mingyu is a good man,” you start, patting his arm. He beams with pride, before sticking his tongue out at his sister that makes a gagging face. You snicker, squeezing his bicep gently, “if it were up to him, I wouldn’t lift a finger.”
“But it’s not.” He sighs dramatically, “she lets me make dinner and that’s it.”
“Let is the wrong word. He barges into my apartment with groceries and I feel bad for the guy,” you feign a pout, earning a scoff from your boyfriend as his parents share a warm look, “but...I love him. What can I do, say no to a nice steak and a foot massage?”
“Yes.” Minseo pipes up, before Mingyu scowls. You snort, checking the time on your watch before his parents lean in to hug him good night. You try to stand to the side, but his sister pulls you into the familial embrace.
“We’ll catch up with you both in two weeks. Mingyu, get the girl a ring!” Mr. Kim gives your shoulder a soft pat, and Mrs. Kim slips something into Mingyu’s pocket. She tries to be discreet, but your eyes dart to her hand as she waves goodbye. You do the same, your face hot at the idea of marrying into such a loving family.
Mingyu slides his hand in his pocket as you both walk to his car, his eyes widening as he pulls it back out. Two rings glimmer in the moonlight, ones you’d complimented on his mother’s hand at the beginning of dinner.
“Little soon for marriage, huh?” He thumbs at the diamonds, and you chew on your lip as you look at them. Your eyes flicker to his, a sparkle of excitement as you see him already looking at you. You clear your throat, holding your left hand up, “well...we can just see if they fit.”
“And if they do?”
“Then I guess we’re engaged, oh boyfriend of three-years.”
“I was nervous!”
Your laughter rings out in the nearly empty parking lot, “well, I love you, anyway. Three years or two days, you said forever and that you’d make good on that.”
“I did say that.” His hands are gentle against yours, trembling slightly as he slides both rings on. They fit snugly at the base of your finger, and you wiggle them with a little smile on your face.
“We can just be ‘engaged’ for like, two years. No one suspects anything then, wedding planning takes ages.”
“Or we can get married in six months. I have contacts everywhere and that’s when you’ll have enough PTO accrued for a honeymoon.”
“You’re crazy.” You scoff, “crazy and calculated, Kim Mingyu.”
“Crazy in love with you, but sure.” He rolls his eyes, opening the passenger door for you. “Mrs. Kim Y/N, in six months. Pencil me in, babe.”
“In your dreams.”
Kim Mingyu is the love of your life.
Sweet, thoughtful, and delicate. Fragile, even: in ego, in sex, in love.
You know he’s made for you. Like Adam was made for Eve. He still shows up with a bouquet every week, but your kitchen is now shared and nicely stocked with your favorite bottles of wine.
Kim Mingyu is the petals of every flower in all the bouquets he’s ever given you. Velvety soft, perfectly cared for and beautiful.
And just as he is all those things – he is your Achilles’ heel. You can never say no to Kim Mingyu, but you can finally admit that he is something more to you..perhaps, everything.
Friend, lover, soulmate – all in one. A BOGO deal, you’d say, and he’d argue he’s at least a buy two, get one.
But, no matter what – Mingyu knows exactly who he is in your life, and you in his. Glued together at the hip, working together (though you get to boss him around and he never thought he’d be into that, a thought penciled in for much, much later when you’re both working ‘overtime’ — read: his head between your thighs at your desk with your office door locked.)
Friends, lovers, soulmates – married (six months in, just like he’d said) and in love, two idiots held safely in the other’s ribcage.
— Synopsis: Where you “unfortunately” caught your best friend's roomate—your unsaid enemy—masturbating in their shared apartment.
— WC: 4.6k
— WARNINGS: smut, monster cock!seungcheol, explicit language and content, overstimulation, dry fucking, oral as a tongue massage (f. receiving)—a reward <3, body fluids (cum), dry humping, cock riding, dumbfication, degradation, aftercare, exhaustion, and DIRTY TALK.
here’s how it always goes with seungcheol:
you walk into a room, he immediately finds something to scoff at. maybe it’s the way you dress, maybe it’s the way you talk, maybe it’s just the fact that you exist in his general vicinity. but it doesn’t matter what you do—he hates you. or, at the very least, that’s what he insists on showing you.
joshua, your best friend and possibly the only person in the world who can tolerate both of you without losing his mind, always tells you to be the bigger person. “he’s not that bad,” he says, as if seungcheol didn’t practically hiss at you last week for sitting on his side of the couch.
but whatever. you don’t go out of your way to piss him off, and he doesn’t go out of his way to be nice. that’s just the way it is.
which is why you hesitate when joshua calls you:
“i swear, i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. i left my keys at your place before i flew out, remember?”
“okay, but i literally don’t want to step foot in his apartment,” you stress, cringing at the thought.
“it’s my apartment, too,” joshua deadpans.
you groan, already feeling a headache coming on.
“just go in, grab the folder on my desk, and leave,” he insists. “cheol probably won’t even be home.”
which is how you find yourself standing outside their apartment door, holding joshua’s keys and hyping yourself up like you’re about to enter enemy territory. which, in a way, you are.
you unlock the door, push it open,
and immediately wish you hadn’t.
seungcheol. on the couch. fisting his cock.
your brain short-circuits. like, full shutdown, blue screen, cease all functioning mode.
the man is spread out—legs wide, head tipped back, theres a drop of sweat that drips from his neck aand land in the middle of his chest. hes exposing his toned abs that clench with every up and down of his hand. and his cock is huge. thick from the base to the top and flushed deep red at the tip, veins prominent as his fist works over it.
he’s so lost in it that he doesn’t even register your presence at first, not until he finally cracks his eyes open and sees you standing there, frozen stunned into silence.
the next few seconds happen in slow motion.
his eyes widen. his entire body stiffens. his hand stops.
“WHAT THE FUCK—”
seungcheol scrambles to cover himself, reaching for the nearest thing—which, unfortunately for him, is a shirt that does nothing to hide the absolute tent he’s pitching. his face goes red, splotchy from the neck up, and he looks so flustered that for a split second, you almost feel bad.
“why the fuck are you here?!” he practically barks at you, voice ragged from whatever the fuck he was doing before you ruined his life.
you blink, still processing the image that’s now burned into your brain for eternity. “uh. joshua?”
“what about joshua?!”
“he… he needed a document.”
seungcheol lets out a sound that is so frustrated, so exasperated, that it almost doesn’t register as human. “and you didn’t think to knock?!”
“why would i knock?! i didn’t think anyone would be jerking off in the living room like a fucking pervert—”
“IT’S MY APARTMENT.”
“IT’S JOSHUA’S TOO.”
“HE’S NOT HERE.”
“WELL, NEITHER AM I, NOW.” you turn on your heel, hand reaching for the doorknob. “i’ll just get the doc later—”
but before you can escape, he rasps, “don’t you dare tell joshua about this.”
you pause. smirk. oh, this is fun.
back still facing him, fingers still wrapped around the doorknob. you should leave. should pretend none of this ever happened. but something—some sick, wrong part of you—doesn’t want to.
so you turn. lean back against the door. cross your arms.
“what?” he snaps, shifting on the couch, the shirt still pitifully draped over his lap.
you tilt your head, dragging your gaze slowly down his body—his hard nipples, the taut muscles in his arms, the way his thighs tense like he’s fighting the urge to close them. you can see the way he twitches under the shirt.
“you’re still hard,” you note, your voice syrupy sweet, but your eyes gleam meanly.
seungcheol tenses. “so?”
“so… you’re mad at me for walking in,” you say, cocking a brow, “but you’re still hard as fuck.”
he grits his teeth, but his silence is loud as hell.
so you take a step forward. just one.
his breath hitches.
“cheol.” you coo at him. “you sure you hate me?”
he glares, but it’s weaker now, faltering under your scrutiny. you can see it—the slight tremor in his fingers, the way his pulse jumps in his throat, the way he’s not telling you to stop.
so you take another step.
and another.
until you’re standing right in front of him, the shirt the only barrier between his cock and your eyes.
his jaw tightens. “don’t.”
“don’t what?” you murmur, reaching forward to trace your fingers over his wrist—the one that was just wrapped around his cock. “don’t call you out? don’t get closer? don’t—”
in a flash, he grabs your wrist, yanking you down.
you gasp as you land on his lap, his hands firm on your hips, his cock pressing against your ass through the thin barrier of the shirt and your clothes.
his lips are right by your ear when he growls, “don’t fucking test me.”
you shiver, but you’re not scared, you’re thrilled.
so you shift, pressing back against him, and smirk when he lets out a sharp breath through his nose.
“or what?” you whisper.
his grip tightens. “you really wanna find out?”
your fingers curl into his hair, tugging just enough to make him hiss.
“yeah,” you breathe, lips brushing his jaw. “i do.”
he snaps.
the shirt under you is gone.
his mouth crashes into yours, hot and angry, his hands gripping your waist like he’s trying to burn the shape of you into his palms. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, his tongue prying your mouth open, swallowing the gasp you let out when his fingers dig into your hips.
you grind down, moaning into his mouth when you feel just how fucking thick he is, leaking against your skirt.
his hands are rough when he yanks your skirt up, bunching the fabric around your waist with no intention of letting it fall back down. you barely have a second to breathe before his fingers push past your thighs, finding the front of your panties hooking his thumb into the damp fabric and pulling it to the side.
the rush of cold air makes you gasp, thighs trying to snap shut, but his thighs pins them open. and maybe, he has a shred of decency in him, because he lets out a low breath and murmurs, “this is gonna be rough.”
no warning. just that.
you should stop him. you should tell him to go slow, to prep you, to at least spit on it—but you don’t, you need to feel this big cock stretching you until every single thought inside your head gets completely erased.
there’s no lube, no prep besides the mess between your thighs, just the torturous process of sinking down.
seungcheol watches all of it. watches the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter, how your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders the lower you go. he’s leaning back against the couch, one hand gripping the plush of your ass, the other wrapped around his base, guiding you onto him like you’re something delicate. like he’s trying to help.
but he’s not.
because he knows what he’s doing when he taps his cockhead against your clit first, dragging the tip through your slick, coaxing out little whimpers that make him smirk. he knows what he’s doing when he presses up, just the tip slipping inside, barely enough to be satisfying but more than enough to make your thighs twitch.
your breath catches in your throat, your whole body twitching up as you take the next inch too fast. your brain is empty, your body is working on instinct, thighs shaking as you brace yourself against him, trying—failing—to push down further.
and he sees it. sees how you’re struggling, sees how your muscles twitch like you’re about to give out, sees how you want to take it but your body is fighting the stretch.
so he helps.
his hands clamp down on your waist.
and then he slams you down.
the sound that leaves your throat is so ruined that he cant help but feel a bit of compassion.
because suddenly you’re full. suddenly you’re sitting completely in his lap, completely engulfed in him, your thighs flush against his, his cock buried so fucking deep that you can feel it pressing up against every nerve inside you.
but when you try to move, try to lift yourself even an inch—nothing.
your thighs won’t cooperate. your muscles won’t listen.
you can’t move.
“oh?” seungcheol tilts his head, smug grin curling at his lips as he grinds up, watching the way your mouth falls open at the sensation.
“too big for you, baby?”
you whimper.
“thought so.”
and then he takes control, because you can’t move—so he does it for you. his hands lift you effortlessly, dragging your hips up before slamming you back down, setting the pace, forcing your body to take what it’s given.
and you can’t think straight anymore. every thrust knocks the air from your lungs, every time he slams you down it punches little whimpers from your throat that only make him hungrier.
“awww… thought you were so tough. but you can’t even fuck yourself on my cock, huh?”
you cry out, body giving up, melting against his chest as you desperately try to follow his rhythm, hips twitching with little, pathetic attempts to keep up. your body isn’t even yours anymore—just a toy, something for seungcheol to use, something he’s breaking in with every brutal roll of his hips.
his fingers dig into your waist, gripping you so tight it hurts, but the pleasure drowns it out. you’re so deep into it, into him, that every ounce of shame has left your body, every shred of dignity gone. because you can’t do anything but take it, can’t do anything but let him use you like you were made for this.
he tilts his head, watching you fall apart, watching how your thighs tremble with every slap of his hips against yours.
“damn,” he laughs, licking his lips, voice mocking. “you’re making such a fucking mess of yourself.”
you whimper, forehead pressing against his collarbone.
and then he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“mm-mm, don’t hide now,” he says, smirking. “be a good girl and let me see that dumb little face while i ruin you.”
a sob rips from your throat, high-pitched and wrecked.
he groans, grinding up into you.
“fuck. bet the neighbors can hear you, huh? joshua’s gonna be so fucking embarrassed when he gets a noise complaint for his dumb little best friend getting dicked down like a whore.”
your whole body jerks, a whimper escaping your lips at the humiliation, the filth dripping from his tongue.
and he sees it.
his grin turns cruel.
“oh, you like that?” he taunts, thrusting up so deep your back arches. “you like knowing that you’re loud enough to make it everyone’s fucking problem? that you’re such a good little fucktoy for me that i can’t even keep you quiet?”
you nod, because you can’t lie. his fingers tighten around your jaw, his lips brushing against yours as he coos.
“poor little thing.”
he thrusts up again, so hard, so deep that your whole body bounces, hands scrambling against his chest, voice cracking in a choked-out sob.
and he moans, deep and satisfied, because you’re so fucking perfect for him. because your body is his to use, to mold, to ruin.
“joshua’s gonna kill me c-cheol.”
his hips snap up again, knocking the breath from your lungs.
“but you’ll tell him it was worth it, won’t you, baby?”
he smooths one over your back, pressing down so your tits rub against his burning skin, while the other stays firm on your hip, keeping you still. your body jerks with every pulse of his cock inside you, twitching as you flutter around him, so overstimulated you can’t tell where the pleasure starts or ends.
“s-seungcheol—” his name is nothing but a broken cry, muffled against his neck, but he’s relentless. he doesn’t even let you finish, just shifts his knees slightly and thrusts up into you with all the power in his core.
“fuck,” he hisses when you clamp down, crying out into his skin, and he wraps an arm fully around you to hold you up. “shh, baby, you’re being so loud.”
his hand snakes up your back, fingers tangling into your hair, forcing you to lift your head. you meet his gaze, and it knocks the breath from your lungs. he looks fucked, mouth parted, sweat dripping from his hairline, chest heaving, but he still manages to look at you like he’s about to devour you whole.
“c’mon,” he coos, tilting his head, his grip tightening just enough to make your scalp tingle. “tell me it was worth it. tell me how good my cock is.”
he punctuates it with a sharp snap of his hips and you keen, trying to lift yourself, trying to relieve some of the intensity, but your thighs betray you. seungcheol laughs, breathless but smug, and his fingers press bruises into your skin as he maneuvers you like you weigh nothing.
“see? can’t even move, huh? my poor baby,” he murmurs, voice syrupy sweet, his free hand cupping your cheek now. “you’re just gonna sit here and take it like the perfect fucktoy you are.”
heat prickles at your skin at the words, your brain too fogged up to be embarrassed, too fucked out to do anything but let him guide you. he rocks you against him, making sure you feel every inch of him dragging against your walls, rubbing at all the right places, pressing into you deeper than you thought was even possible.
“you take me so well, baby,” he praises, leaning in to press his lips against yours, just enough to tease. “so fuckin’ tight, so warm—fucking heaven.”
his hand slides between your bodies, two fingers finding your swollen, neglected clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over it. the sensation makes your thighs twitch, your nails dig into his back, a fresh wave of tears pooling at the corners of your eyes.
“shhh, i got you, baby,” he whispers, kissing your jaw now, your temple. his fingers on your clit work in time with the slow, torturous grind of his hips. “i got you, yeah? you gonna cum for me? hm?”
he kisses you full on the mouth when you sob, swallowing the sound like he wants to keep it forever. and then he speeds up just a little, rolling your clit with more pressure, meeting every rut of your hips with a firm thrust up.
you shatter.
your whole body seizes, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as you clamp down so tight on him that it sends him tumbling over the edge with you. he groans, long and low, holding you so tight against him that you can feel every pulse of his cum inside you, hot and deep. his hips jerk once, twice more before he stills, forehead pressed against yours as you both gasp for air.
it’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds are the distant hum of the city outside the window, and the soft squelch when he finally shifts, making you both moan.
your body trembles like a leaf caught in the wind, and seungcheol drinks it in, the heat of your overstimulated form twitching against his chest as he presses slow, lingering kisses into the curve of your neck. his lips move down, sucking at the pulse point that hammers beneath your skin. your breath stutters. his fingers, nails just barely grazing, trail down the arch of your spine, featherlight but enough to make you shiver. you barely even realize you’re moving, the last bit of strength in your boneless limbs used to weakly push yourself up, to let his cock slip free from where it’s buried inside you.
the second it leaves you, your body gives out. you collapse right into his chest, heavier than before, spent and trembling, the exhaustion hitting all at once. you can’t even pretend to be embarrassed about it. you just sigh, your lips brushing the base of his throat as you settle against him, body limp.
seungcheol holds you steady with both hands, like he’s afraid you might melt right into the couch and disappear. his broad palm cradles the back of your head, fingers splaying across your scalp, scratching at your roots. he keeps the other hand wrapped around your waist, thumb stroking absentmindedly against your ribs. the tension in his body hasn’t left yet. his shoulders are still tight. you know him well enough to know what’s coming before he even says it.
“you good?”
you hum in response, nuzzling into his chest as your fingers curl weakly against his pecs. “just a little sore.”
he exhales through his nose. shifts beneath you. you can feel his fingers flex where they rest on your waist, like he wants to squeeze but holds himself back. then, with zero effort, he grips the back of your neck and lifts you up, just enough to force you to look at him. your lids are heavy, half-lidded, dazed, and fuck, that shouldn’t make him feel so possessive, but it does.
his thumb sweeps across your cheek, his jaw tensing. “shit. i’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes scanning over your features like he’s searching for anything more than just exhaustion. “lemme take care of you, hm?”
you don’t have it in you to resist, don’t even want to. you let him move you, let him handle you like you weigh nothing as he lifts you from his lap and shifts you onto the couch, laying you down as if you’re something delicate. and maybe you are, now, after the way he ruined you. maybe that’s why you don’t fight him when he presses your thighs apart, watching as they just fall open on their own, spread wide like a doll.
you don’t have the strength to do much else than whimper softly as his thumbs spread you further, gaze locked onto your swollen cunt, still so slick from where he fucked you. his jaw clenches.
you don’t even get a warning before he moves in, before his hands grip your thighs to keep them open as he dives between them, mouth sealing over your clit in one slow stroke of his tongue.
you jolt, a weak little gasp punching from your lungs. your fingers barely find the energy to tangle into his hair, and the grip is nowhere near as firm as it usually is, but he groans anyway. whether it’s from the feeling of your grip or from the way you instantly react to him, you don’t know. but he doesn’t stop.
his tongue moves slow, warm and so fucking wet as he licks broad, flat strokes over your sensitive flesh, working you open again with patience. he isn’t trying to overstimulate, isn’t trying to get you off again—though you can already tell it wouldn’t take much. his focus is entirely on easing the ache, on massaging every tender inch of you with his mouth, his lips, his tongue.
“feels good?” his voice is muffled against you, but it vibrates in just the right way.
you nod, breath hitching when he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue rolling it in slow circles. your body twitches, heat curling at the base of your spine. “cheol…”
he moans against you, and presses you down harder against his face. your hips jump, an embarrassing whimper breaking free as his tongue dips lower, tracing around your entrance before dragging back up, collecting every bit of slick along the way.
you whine, fingers curling tighter in his hair. he doesn’t tease. doesn’t prolong it. just keeps his pace slow and steady, gentle enough to soothe, firm enough to keep you on the edge of something, even if you’re too sensitive to chase it. and if the way he’s grinding his hips into the couch tells you anything—it’s that he’s just as affected as you are.
he’s not eating you out to get himself off, but fuck if it isn’t working.
the obscene sounds of his mouth working between your thighs filling the entire apartment, mixing in with your breathless moans and the way he groans right into your cunt. you don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed about the way your cum is smeared all over his chin, his jaw, his cheeks—how it drips down onto the couch below with every intentional roll of his tongue against your entrance.
his tongue works in circles, pressing flat to your hole before dragging up again, tasting every bit of your arousal as it gushes out onto his lips. his mouth is open the entire time, tongue rolling and flicking, nose nudging against your clit as he angles his head lower. he flattens his tongue, groaning as he drags it up through your folds before plunging it into you, so messy that you swear you see white behind your eyelids.
your back arches, chest rising in sharp, hiccupped gasps, every single nerve in your body on flames. your thighs twitch in his grasp, and he squeezes them tighter, keeping you spread open just for him. his hands slide up, one wrapping firmly around your waist, keeping you pinned in place, while the other travels up, up—his fingers finding the stiff peaks of your nipples.
your eyes snap open, a gasp catching in your throat as he rolls one between his fingertips, twisting just enough to make your eyes roll. you swear you hear him chuckle against you, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.
“breathe,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your clit before sucking it between his teeth, tongue rolling in lazy, teasing circles on the swollen bud. “breathe for me, baby.”
you try. you really do. but the way his mouth moves, the way his fingers tweak and pull, it’s too much. you’re spiraling. you feel another orgasm creeping up so fast it steals the air right out of your lungs.
he sees it. he knows.
his grip tightens on your thigh, his tongue flicking faster, working you open as his free hand continues to play with your tits, kneading the soft flesh, fingers rolling your nipples in rhythm with the lazy grind of his tongue against your clit.
your moans turn high-pitched, desperate. your body twists beneath him, unable to keep still as the pleasure builds, climbing higher and higher.
but then—a whimper.
not from you.
from him.
you force your heavy lids open, head lolling to the side as you try to focus on him. and fuck, the sight that greets you is almost enough to make you cum then and there.
seungcheol is rutting against the couch. grinding, fucking humping it like a damn dog, his hips rolling in slow thrusts, his rock-hard cock straining against his stomach, smearing precum all over his abs and the fabric beneath him.
he whimpers again, this time louder, his brows furrowed, his breath coming in short, uneven pants.
“fuck,” he groans, mouth still pressed against you, voice muffled by the way his tongue keeps working you over. he pulls back just enough to speak, his lips glistening, his chin soaked. his eyes are dark, glassy, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you. “can’t—fuck, i can’t stop. you taste too good.”
your chest tightens, a desperate, aching cry slipping from your lips as you clutch at his hair, thighs twitching in his grasp. “cheol—gonna—gonna cum, oh my god—”
he moans, actually fucking moans, his hips grinding down harder against the couch as he redoubles his efforts, tongue circling your clit in precise, teasing flicks, his fingers pinching your nipples just hard enough to send you over the edge.
your body locks up. your back arches. your mouth falls open, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, all-consuming.
seungcheol doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow down. he works you through it like it’s his mission, licking you clean, his tongue rolling over your entrance, collecting every last drop as your body trembles violently beneath him.
your chest heaves, your vision blurring, but even through the haze, you can feel him still grinding against the couch, still so fucking hard and desperate, all because of you.
your brain is slow. dial-up connection slow. everything feels like it’s underwater, your body floating somewhere between consciousness and the best orgasm-induced coma of your life. it’s warm, so warm, like your body is still riding out the fever of your high, tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth, throat dry, muscles heavy like they’re full of sand.
you don’t even remember when it happened—when you blacked out, when you got moved. just flashes of cool wipes dragging over your skin, a damp cloth pressed between your thighs, seungcheol’s hands gentle, careful, murmuring something you were too gone to comprehend. like déjà vu, like something out of a dream.
but you’re awake now. sort of. and you’re in his bed.
the sheets are soft, cool against your fevered skin, and it feels so good that you can’t help the tired, pleased moan that slips past your lips, involuntary, barely conscious.
but it’s enough to make him look at you.
you blink, vision still a little hazy, but yeah, that’s definitely seungcheol, sitting at his desk, dressed in a loose shirt and sweats, hair damp, probably from a shower. there’s a slight smirk on his lips, but his eyes are soft as they sweep over you, taking in the way you’re still half-buried in his sheets, limbs heavy, body relaxed.
then it hits you.
the documents.
joshua.
fuck.
your eyes widen, and you jolt up too fast, regretting it immediately when the soreness between your thighs protests, a sharp ache shooting up your spine. “fuck—”
seungcheol’s already up, one hand pressing to your shoulder, guiding you back down before you can do any more damage. “hey, hey, relax. you’re gonna hurt yourself.”
“the—documents,” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut again as the exhaustion creeps back in. “joshua.”
he chuckles, and you open your eyes just in time to see him shaking a small stack of papers in his hand. “yeah, yeah. i got it. sent them over while you were passed out.”
you frown, groggy. “i was supposed to send them.”
“and joshua needs to get used to me handling shit for you,” he says, grinning as he sets the papers down. “besides, he’d probably prefer not to get another noise complaint under his name.”
your face heats up instantly. “oh my god.”
“mhmm,” seungcheol hums, tilting his head. “wanna know how loud you were?”
“no.”
he laughs, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, thumb tracing your cheek. “then go back to sleep, baby.”
you glare at him. or, at least, you try to. it’s weak, and he knows it, because all it takes is one more stroke of his thumb before your eyes flutter shut again, body sinking further into his bed.
yeah. you can fight him about the joshua thing later. maybe. probably not.
› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader
› aus: dilf jeonghan, boyfriend jeonghan, jeonghan is a girl dad
› genres: angst, fluff, smut (18+)
› word count: 23k
READ PART ONE HERE
› warnings: toxic family dynamics: jeonghan's ex is a bad person in general (a neglectful parent), talks about speech therapy, speech impediment. jeonghan is an idiot. reader is emotionally constipated. so there's A LOT OF drama.
› smut warnings: smut with plot (this part has more plot than the previous one, you're warned), they're both crazy for each other, dirty talk, pussy eating, jeonghan is pussy drunk, quickies, make up sex, breeding kink, cowgirl, daddy kink, edging, bathroom sex, silence play, unprotected p in v sex (i'm such a bad influence, wrap it up!), creampies, mating press, yn is slightly 🤏🏻 bratty, dom jeonghan, aftercare. pet names: babe, baby, beautiful, darling, sweetheart, (hers) babe, daddy (his)
› author's note: hiiii! i'm here to say thank you guys for the support in the pineapple on pizza? post! it was really nice to see that so many of you enjoyed it, so here is a part two! honestly i enjoyed writing dilf!hannie quite a lot and couldn't get him out of my brain for months so here it is, a part two lol. and this chapter is looooong, so buckle in!
also another note: this is incredibly self indulgent. like everything i write. but i think this one takes the cake.
› disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂
“Have you seen my keys?”
Morning routines were always a mess. Something different happened every time, and somehow, even though you’ve done this more than a dozen times, it was still hard to catch up.
But you were getting the hang of it.
The apartment was a controlled chaos, as you liked calling it. The air smelled of coffee and the soft fragrance that Jeonghan wore to work. Repetition was starting to have its effect as you began to associate your mornings with those two scents.
“Have you tried looking under the couch?” you asked, turning around with a small bowl in your hands. You placed it carefully on the small tabletop of Sohee’s booster seat and watched quietly as she sank her little spoon into her bowl of cereal and milk.
“I should’ve added more milk,” you mumbled, biting on the inside of your cheek.
The little girl didn’t seem to notice, though. She ate happily, kicking her feet in the air and clapping her tiny hands together as she chewed, milk dripping from the corners of her pouty mouth.
You heard a sigh, and then the sound of footsteps approaching from the hall, and you lifted your head.
Jeonghan was still buttoning his perfectly ironed shirt, his hands going lower and lower, distracting you from your initial task. You felt your lips parting before forcing any kind of control onto your facial expression. His black trousers were also yet to be fixed, but as he finished buttoning his shirt, he tucked it inside his pants, quickly fastening his belt.
You lowered your gaze to the little girl slamming her palms onto the tabletop. Sohee was dancing happily. And you were glad that you had zero witnesses to your ogling your boyfriend quite shamelessly.
You brushed crumbs off the table, picked up the empty bowl and put it away. “Alright,” you said with a sigh, pretending to be deeply focused on the morning routine. “Did you find them?”
When you looked up, you found that Jeonghan had also been staring. His eyes were trained on the scene happening before him. His mouth parted, and he appeared to be confused for a split second—giving himself a very brief shake. “Yeah,” he smiled shyly and patted the pocket of his trousers. “Under the bed.”
“Huh,” you grinned. “How could they have gotten there?” you asked, innocently tilting your head.
Jeonghan sighed. The smile was still glued to his face, but it slowly brushed off as he raised his wrist to his face, looking at his watch. “I’m late,” he said, delivering the words with an annoyed edge in his tone. “Fuck. I’m so late,” he added, turning around to grab the jacket that had been previously placed on the couch.
Panic rushed in your veins. It was a big day for Jeonghan at his work—he had a big meeting in which it was certain that he would get some good news about a project that he had proposed for the company he worked for. You knew what this meant for him.
You looked at the time. His shift started earlier than yours did, and with another twist to your stomach, you knew that he wouldn’t be able to drop Sohee off at the daycare and then make it on time to his meeting.
“Go. I’ll drop Sohee at daycare,” you blurted right as he was throwing Sohee’s things into her bag.
His gaze snapped up and locked onto your face. The shock was flitting, but you were able to catch it before he blinked and parted his mouth to say something.
But you were quicker— “Here. Take my car and I’ll take yours so I can put Sohee in her car seat. We can switch later,” you said, stumbling over your words as you fished your car keys from the pocket of your smart trousers, handing them to him.
Jeonghan straightened, fixing the wire-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose—you always went a little crazy when he did that—but this time he placed his hands on his hips, his face thoughtful, calculating. “Are you sure? I don’t want to cause an inconvenience with—”
“Babe, you’re not causing anything,” you insisted, thrusting your fist holding the keys into the space between you and him. “Take my car. Go to your meeting. I’ve got Sohee.”
At that, Jeonghan’s face relaxed, starting to approach you with a softened look on his face—like he could melt just at the sight of you. He took the keys from your hand. “You’re godsent, did you know that?” he asked, his tone low as he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you to his body.
“I’m just here to help,” you said lightly, meeting his gaze as he bent his head to meet your lips with his own.
Jeonghan gave you one feathery kiss. “Thank you, baby,” he whispered, pushing his lips on yours again. “Be careful, okay? Call me if anything happens.”
You smiled against his lips. “I got this,” you repeated in a sweeter tone.
Part of you was sure that Jeonghan knew this as well. But Sohee was his entire world. And he was quite literally leaving her in your hands.
And you were unsure as to what to think about it.
Jeonghan turned, peeling himself from your lips with a begrudged groan and placed a kiss on top of Sohee’s head. “Goodbye, sweetheart,” he cooed gently.
Your tummy twisted again. This time, the reaction was from the way Jeonghan switched into dad mode in the blink of an eye. The switch from hot boyfriend to diligent father never failed to mess with you.
Sohee lifted her head, her eyes looking at her dad, but she didn’t respond.
“Be good today, okay? Eat all of your meals and try not to miss me too much,” Jeonghan insisted, trying to get her to utter something. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Byeee,” he cooed again.
But Sohee kept looking at her father fixedly.
“Sweetheart, say bye,” Jeonghan encouraged Sohee again, this time lower but still gentle.
“Maybe she’s not feeling it today, babe,” you muttered behind him.
A few weeks ago, Jeonghan confided in you that he started to notice that Sohee often froze at the moment of speaking full sentences. Initially, he had brushed it off, thinking that his daughter was innately shy, just like himself. But as months passed by and she continued developing other social skills, he began to believe that it was something else.
“Right,” Jeonghan mumbled, not hiding the slight look of worry on his face. But he leaned and propped another kiss on her forehead before stepping back. He kissed you on the cheek, handing you the keys to his car.
“Good luck,” you mumbled, and he replied with a quick nod. You and Sohee watched quietly as Jeonghan slipped through the door.
As soon as the door clicked shut, you realized what you had gotten yourself into. It was supposed to be a simple task, yes. But it had a thousand layers of meaning beneath it. Taking Sohee to daycare was something you could do every day, gladly—but something felt off.
Like you were starting to cross a line, and neither Jeonghan nor you knew how to talk about it.
Taking Sohee to her daycare was one thing—driving Jeonghan’s SUV was another.
It wasn’t a particularly daring task either, but it also put your nerves on edge. After fixing Sohee’s daycare bag and your own stuff, you grabbed her first, hoisting her up your hip, and then you swung your bag and Sohee’s on your shoulder.
“Ready to see your friends today, Sohee?” you asked, raising your tone into a sweet one. It felt practiced, and you remembered the first few times you ever did it—how it made your cheeks flush in embarrassment. But after a time, you could say that you understood why people would talk in a cute way to kids, it came naturally.
“Yeah,” Sohee replied, the word landing almost aloofly. Like you had just caught her in a moment where she didn’t find any barriers for her to speak.
You pushed the button of the elevator and slowly moved your head to look at her.
Sohee was a perfect little girl of almost three years of age. When you met her over half a year ago, you were sure you were holding a little angel. She was gentle and sweet. Her head was full of dark hair that matched her long eyelashes, just like her father’s.
“Oh, yeah? What are their names?” you asked, eyeing her as you stepped into the elevator with her still attached to your hip.
“Dany,” she mumbled perfectly, raising her tone as though she were about to make a list of names.
“Dany? Okay, and who else?”
“Nora,” she said, quieter this time.
The elevator paused on its way down, opening the doors for another person to step in. You knew the conversation was over.
Sohee fell silent, lowering her gaze from you and fixing it on one point on your shirt. You realized after a few seconds that she was staring at your hand, at your painted fingernails. What made you certain was the way she raised her hands to her gaze, comparing her fingernails to your own.
Something twisted inside you, the idea of her and you doing each other’s nails dawned in your head. And you knew what that pang in your stomach was—possibility. You were thinking of the future.
“Here we go,” you mumbled as you approached Jeonghan’s navy blue Kia Seltos. The fresh smell of new and clean leather still lingered inside it as you opened the door and put Sohee in her chair.
She never complained, just quietly sat on the chair and looked at you as you fixed the buckle of her safety belt.
“Safety first,” you said, trying to fill in the silence. You grabbed one of the toys from the toy basket sitting beneath her seat and showed it to her. “Look, it’s Rory!” you cried dramatically, showing her the dinosaur plushie that you knew she loved.
Sohee extended her arms and made grabby hands at the green and very cute T. rex. She didn’t speak again, no matter how hard you tried to get her to say something.
The parking lot was buzzing with activity, cars coming and going, hustling parents coming in and out of the building, dropping their kids off—and you for sure felt like a fish out of water, but you didn’t want to entertain the thought for too long. You signed Sohee in without an issue—the staff mentioned that as you were dropping Sohee off, Jeonghan had phoned them to let them know you were coming in his stead.
You soothed Sohee’s hair and gave her a quick kiss on her head as she scrunched her fingers on your back, almost affectionately. “You be good, sweetie,” you said before leaving her and turning to the parking lot, feeling strangely empty when you climbed inside the SUV.
You carried out work as usual. You didn’t think about the odd feeling clawing at your heart for the rest of the morning. The second the clock hit one o’clock, your phone started vibrating, snapping you out of your monitor screen. You scrambled to get your phone, only to see Jeonghan’s face on the screen.
“Hello?” you responded with a hushed tone, looking over to see if you had interrupted the workflow in the office. But you realized the space was nearly empty, and everyone had left for lunch.
“Am I interrupting?” Jeonghan noticed immediately by your tone alone.
“No. I just didn’t look at the time,” you told him, pushing yourself off the chair and walking in the direction of the elevator.
“Oh, I see. Is this still a good time to speak with you?” he asked.
You smirked at his choice of words. “I don’t know, you tell me. Is this a good time for you?” you retorted, noticing that he was also in his cubicle.
“You got me,” he said, and you could imagine the shy smile on his face. “I’m stepping outside, hold on.”
You pushed the button to the elevator and waited while on the other side of the line, you heard Jeonghan moving.
“Okay, I’m out,” he said with a sigh. “Are you going to the food court?” he asked.
Jeonghan knew your schedule well, and he was also very familiar with your routine since you always kept him in the loop of the things you did. When you started dating, you would quite practically narrate to him your daily life through text messages, to the point that he knew all of your co-workers by name without knowing them in person.
“Yes,” you replied, stepping out of the elevator.
“Chicken salad?” he asked with a low tone, making you think that he probably had some co-worker passed him by.
“Oh, I think I’m moving on from that,” you told him. “I want a burrito. A chicken burrito.”
“Oof, how different,” he teased.
“Let me be,” you bit back and then frowned, suspecting something was off.
“I will. But I’m going to tease you about it either way,” he said with a brief laugh. “How is work going?”
“Fine,” you replied simply. But it was then that you dared to ask, “Is something going on, babe? You’re never this weird.”
Jeonghan sighed, and you knew he was smiling. “Am I being that obvious?” he said, and then, before you could say something, he continued. “I just wanted to tell you to come tonight and have dinner with Sohee and me.”
“Mmn, why do I feel like this could’ve been a text,” you said as you sat down at an empty table that was cluttered with a tray and a single French fry sitting on its box.
He laughed. “I am trying to get somewhere here,” he said.
“You’re taking a lot of detours!” you laughed with him. “Of course, babe. You know I love having dinner with you and Sohee.”
“Good. Great,” he mumbled, and something about the dejected way his words came out made your ears perk.
A long moment of silence happened between you, where you could hear the sound of his breathing and nothing else. Your gaze fell out of focus, landing on a single grain of salt on the dirty table in the very crowded food court.
“Is everything alright, babe?” you asked, your tone lower. “Did the meeting go well?”
“Yeah. It’s not that. I want—” he cut himself off, but then, “I want us to talk,” he said.
Your heart fell to your stomach, the feeling so impactful that it left you completely stunned. There was nothing in the world that could replace the feeling you’d get when you heard the words we need to talk, and all of its variations.
“Oh, then—t-that changes things,” you mumbled awkwardly, not forgoing that he ignored your initial question.
“Wait, no,” he started, noticing the tension in your words. “It’s nothing bad.”
“Okay,” you said under a heavy sigh. “Then tell me now,” you said.
“I’d rather wait until tonight—”
“Did I do something wrong?” you asked instead. And perhaps you could’ve controlled yourself better, but you were fully induced in anxiety now.
“No. I swear it’s nothing bad,” he told you firmly. “It’s something I have been wanting to ask you.”
You started toying with the lonely grain of salt with the tip of your finger. “If it really is nothing bad, then you could ask me now,” you said, fully aware of how shaky your tone was.
“Are you sure?” he asked slowly, stretching out each word.
“Very.”
Jeonghan sighed and then paused. You could picture him clearly—standing on the balcony of the building where he worked, looking very polished on the outside but probably tense, judging by his tone alone.
“I was just thinking that we’re always so busy, you with work and me with—well, with everything and…” You heard him pause, and then release a sigh, and that’s how you knew he was also steadying himself. “I wanted to know if you would like to move in with us. With Sohee and me.”
In all of the things you could’ve possibly imagined him saying, this wasn’t one of them. You straightened in your seat as a chill ran down your spine. “Jeonghan, are you serious?” you asked, unable to control how firm you sounded.
“I don’t mean now, but sometime in the future. We can plan and see how things go from there,” he offered, and he sounded steady, but you could notice the slight edge of nervousness in it.
The feeling invading your body made you feel as if you had been dropped from a very tall building.
“Babe…” you started, looking for the words to say.
“It’s okay if you want to say no,” he said. “I just wanted to talk about it with you tonight over dinner.”
You closed your eyes, swallowing hard. “I’m not saying no,” you told him.
“You’re not saying yes either,” he sighed in defeat. “I’m rushing into things.”
Your chest caved in. You wanted to say yes, you wanted this. But there were so many things that you thought needed to happen before you moved in with him and his daughter. In your book, things like the first I love you had to happen before sharing a roof with that person. Or at least knowing them for a full year.
Oh, and the judgment. Your friends already thought you were insane for dating a single parent, and now you were moving in with him eight months after meeting him? Not only that, your whole life had taken a turn when you started dating Jeonghan—to the point that the person you were a year ago wouldn’t recognize the person you were now.
“Can we talk about it tonight over dinner?” you asked, your tone tiny.
“Of course. We can talk about it more calmly,” he said, and you couldn’t ignore the note of sadness in his words. “I get it, baby. I should’ve waited. I’m sorry.”
“No, Jeonghan. You did nothing wrong,” you said, but then something felt off.
“Listen, I have to go back. See you tonight?” he asked, and you caught the way his tone picked up. Something had come up.
You deflated completely. “See you tonight, Jeonghan.”
And then something hung in the air. An unspoken thing between you, something that needed to be said.
Your heart started to hope.
But then the line went dead.
There was a thought that you couldn’t quite keep away. When you met Jeonghan, you instantly knew this man was for you—every bone, every nerve ending in your body told you that. Then, when you knew he was a single father, you knew that a relationship with him would be challenging. But it turned out to be easier than expected.
However, things started to shift from the first night you and he took things to the next level. Spending the night in his bed was a very conscious decision you both made. You were both ready, and truth be told, aching for each other. What you didn’t foresee was that you were climbing those steps into a serious relationship without paying attention to how fast and how uncontrolled you were.
Now, it felt as though you were in too deep, but there were no rules or boundaries in place.
You gnawed on your lower lip, debating whether to write him a text telling him that you knew he meant well by his proposition.
Instead, you got up and went to the nearest convenience store, got a sandwich, and ate half of it on the elevator ride back to your office.
The rest of your shift happened in a blink. Thankfully, you were so busy that the aftermath of that call with Jeonghan was pushed to the second plane of your brain. You would sometimes remember it with a jolt in your stomach. And he also didn’t text you afterwards, which meant that he was also probably busy—or that’s what you wanted to believe anyway.
You came out of the office some four hours after the phone call, scrambling inside your handbag to get your car keys.
Your phone started vibrating furiously somewhere in one of the many pockets, your heart deflating stressfully in the thought that it could possibly be Jeonghan. A flashing thought drove that anxiousness right into your soul, telling you that he would be telling you that tonight’s plans were off.
But it was an unknown caller. And you picked up solely on the thought that it would be a work-related thing.
“Yes?” you said, putting your bag on top of the trunk of your car.
The caller was a woman with a very polite tone, asking for you using your full name.
“This is her,” you replied almost routinely.
“Hi! This is Katy from the Speech and Learning Center. Am I speaking to Sohee’s mother?”
“Oh—” you gasped, leaving the task of finding your keys completely abandoned due to the sheer shock that question gave you. “No. I’m her father’s partner. Is something wrong?”
“Oh, no. Everything is fine. I’m so sorry, ma’am,” Katy responded kindly. “We have you on Sohee’s file as the emergency contact in case her father doesn’t answer, and we’ve tried him three times just now, but no answer. Are you able to make choices about her appointments with us?”
“God,” you mouthed to yourself, screwing your eyes shut. “Um, Sohee’s birthday is on Friday, so Thursday would probably be better,” you responded automatically, and then you stopped yourself with a shake. “But I think you should try her father again.”
But then you remembered—Jeonghan had mentioned a very important meeting, the one where his boss would determine whether he had the promotion or not.
“I believe he was in a meeting. Maybe you should try in…” you checked your watch. “Twenty minutes. He should be off by then.”
“Understood. I will call him instead. Well, I thank you for picking up this call and wish you a good rest of your day. Bye!”
“Thanks. You too,” you replied shakily.
And then she hung up.
The drive to Jeonghan’s apartment felt like an out-of-body experience. You felt yourself driving, but at the same time, your mind was somewhere else. After being hit with two reality checks, one after another, you were reconsidering what to do, what to say to Jeonghan once you saw him.
He had assigned you as Sohee’s emergency contact. Not her grandmother, not her aunt. And certainly not her mother. You.
It shouldn’t be a big deal—maybe you were making it into a big deal. But after Jeonghan had told you he wanted you to move in with him and his daughter, this just felt like too much.
You turned the doorknob of his apartment door as you released a shaky sigh, trying to drive out all your nervousness. But as you entered and laid eyes on him, you knew it would be impossible not to be nervous for the remainder of the night.
Jeonghan was sitting on the couch, baby Sohee sitting safely on his thigh as he held a triceratops in one hand, making it clash gently against Sohee’s brontosaurus. His gaze immediately switched to the door as you crossed it. Then tension set in, making the features of his face harden.
And you probably were mirroring that same expression. You closed the door behind you quietly and removed your shoes by the entrance.
Jeonghan placed Sohee on the couch carefully as you walked to the living room, feeling strange.
“Hey,” he said, reading your face with his eyes.
Your heart was racing incredibly fast. “Hi,” you replied.
“I got it,” he said with a big sigh.
Understanding dawned on you with a blink. “You got promoted?”
He nodded, but his expression was still blank.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, thinking that the tension in his demeanor was due to the call from earlier. “Congratulations!” you said excitedly, going for a hug.
Jeonghan didn’t appear to be happy, not precisely. But he wrapped your torso in his arms, hugging you tightly. “Thank you, baby,” he sighed, sinking his face into the crook of your neck.
Then you felt a pair of tiny hands palming your leg intuitively. You pulled away from Jeonghan’s arms, looking down to spot Sohee trying to get your attention.
“I think she’s feeling left out,” Jeonghan interpreted keenly.
“Oh, my bad,” you giggled and bent down to hug her. “Come here, princess,” you spoke softly to her as you lifted her in your arms.
“Look,” Sohee said quietly, showing you a new dinosaur toy.
“Wow, what is this?” you asked her, your tone turning into honey.
“Saurus,” she mumbled shyly, still showing you her dinosaur figurine.
“A stegosaurus,” Jeonghan informed you quietly as he watched you carry Sohee in your arms. And there was that look again. The one you had seen in the morning. He was watching intently, calmly—like he wanted to remember this moment forever without missing a thing.
“This is so cool,” you told her, still using that tone. “Is this the one you liked the most?” you asked her.
She listened to you intently, but her gaze was fixed on her figurine. She shook her head.
“Show her your favorite one, sweetheart,” Jeonghan said as you placed her back on the floor.
She ran back to the couch, grabbed the forgotten dinosaur and brought it back to you. You crouched to be at eye level with her as she showed you a new Triceratops.
“Did you just get these?” you asked her sweetly, your tummy twisting in cuteness aggression as she just nodded, ruffling her black hair.
“It was one of her birthday gifts. I thought that it would be safe to keep them stashed in my closet, but I guess that I should’ve known better,” he said guiltily, crouching with you as Sohee went on to show you her new collection of dinosaur toys.
“You’re a very observant girl, aren’t you?” you asked her, to which she ignored completely.
You could feel Jeonghan beside you, his gaze set on you as you continued your silent exchange with Sohee. After some seconds of feeling the weight of his gaze on you, you glanced to his direction.
“Can we talk?” he whispered as soon as he caught your eye.
You nodded, tummy twisting uneasily.
Jeonghan opened and then closed the fridge in one short motion. He placed his empty hands on his hips as he released a sigh. You noticed then that he was anxious. “Sohee’s mother is coming to town.”
You froze in place.
Of course. You should’ve expected her to be for her daughter’s birthday. But part of you was also completely vexed about this piece of information—since you had believed for a moment that Jeonghan wanted to talk about the proposal he’d made earlier. But Sohee’s mother rarely called, to the point that in the eight months you’ve been dating Jeonghan, you had never even seen her in person.
“Oh, I see,” you said, swallowing hard. And then you added quite awkwardly: “Is she… did you… Did she call to see what you would do for Sohee’s birthday?”
Jeonghan understood where your curiosity came from. But he was still looking at you wearily, just like all the times he talked to you about a difficult thing in his life. Like the time he told you about his daughter, or the time he told you about Sohee’s absent mother.
It made your stomach churn.
And you knew what it was. It was selfishness.
“No. I called her,” he said. You knew that he was telling you the truth, and in doing so, he was nervous. “Sohee’s birthday is one of the few times I can get her mother to come see her, so…”
“I understand,” you said, resuming to set the table with the tablecloth and the dishware. “Do you… want me here that day?”
“Of course I do,” he said. You glanced his way, seeing his worried face—his eyebrows knitting softly. “Do you want to be here?”
“As long as you are comfortable with it, yes,” you said, and then added: “I just don’t want to complicate things.”
Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Believe me, things can’t get more complicated with her. Soomin is just…” he shook his head lightly. “Well, you’ll see.”
You exhaled sharply. “Okay… no pressure,” you mumbled.
All you knew about Soomin was that she was not present in Sohee and Jeonghan’s lives from the moment Sohee turned eight months old. Her reason for parting and leaving everything behind was simply—I don’t want this life—and one day she packed her bags and left. Some months later, Jeonghan asked her for full custody of the baby, receiving it without any fight from her.
“Is she coming the day of?” you asked.
“On Thursday afternoon, after Sohee’s therapy,” he said. And then you noticed that the anxiety hadn’t quite brushed off. “I want you to meet her that day. That way we can have the party without any issues, if any.”
You raised your eyebrows, watching him from the other side of the table. “That bad?”
He nodded silently, throwing a look to the living room, where Sohee was dancing around to the music playing on the TV screen. “I just don’t want her to make a scene on Sohee’s birthday, you know? It’s supposed to be her day.”
The tension in your shoulders dissolved when you turned over your shoulder and saw baby Sohee bending her knees to the rhythm of the music, her tiny hands planted on the sofa to keep herself steady as she danced happily. Your stomach twisted with the realization that you loved Sohee in a way that you wanted to protect her, care for her.
You had gotten irrevocably attached.
You took a deep breath, slowly turning to see Jeonghan. “Don’t worry, babe,” you told him, smiling at him as you approached him again. “We’ll make Sohee’s day just about her, alright?” you said, pushing yourself to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
Jeonghan smiled softly. “Alright,” he said.
You stared at that smile on his face for one long second, and slowly, the memory of the phone call from earlier came back to your mind. Your heart faltered. You carefully thought of how to open the conversation, but nerves got the better of you first— “About earlier…” you said in a whisper, pausing to clear your throat. “Were you serious? About me moving in?”
Jeonghan inhaled slowly, blinking away from your face briefly, glancing to where his daughter was in the living room. “We don’t have to rush,” he said, licking his lips before turning his gaze back to you. “It’s a big step, but it makes sense, right? I mean, you’re already here all the time…”
You studied him for a brief moment. You were hearing him, but all you could think about was the way his shoulders were tight, the way he was gripping the back of the chair with one hand. And more than everything else—the way he wasn’t meeting your eyes.
“It feels fast, Jeonghan,” you said carefully.
“It feels right,” he countered, taking one step towards you. His face had changed now that you could see him with more closeness—his dark eyes were full of certainty, full of tenderness. “I want you here. With us. You’re already here all the time, you do morning routines with us, put her in bed, and drop-offs…”
Your chest tightened. Something felt off. And then by pure instinct, you glanced at Sohee. The baby had stopped moving, her gaze fixed on the flat screen mounted on the wall, sticking her index finger in her mouth quite aloofly.
But the sight of her made your tummy twist even harder. It was the realization hitting you like a train. If you lost this—if Jeonghan and you ever get to a point where you split, you would lose Sohee as well. The mere thought threatened to break your heart.
His gaze shifted—and without following it, you knew that he was looking at Sohee. “I’m just… scared of doing this wrong way, you know?”
You reached for his face, cupping it with your hands to draw his gaze back to you again. “Then we should slow down,” you said, your heart protesting against your words with a stabbing pain. “Just a little.”
He swallowed hard. “Okay,” he breathed.
“Yeah?” you replied in kind. “We slow down for just a little while. We could talk about it again when the timing feels right.”
Jeonghan grabbed one of your wrists, squeezing it gently. He looked relieved, so much so that the next sigh he let out was slow as he leaned his forehead on yours. “I’m sorry. The last thing I want is to rush you,” he whispered.
“It’s okay,” you replied, despite your heart deflating a little. “I understand. Just know that I’m not saying no. Okay?” you said, raising your tone just a little bit higher, trying to swallow your nerves.
“Okay,” Jeonghan replied with a breathy giggle, hearing your nervous tone.
You felt his lips grazing yours before he kissed you fully. It was then that you felt those three littlewords sitting on the tip of your tongue. You were falling for him, fast and uncontrollably. But instead of telling him that, you pushed your lips against his, kissing him fervently.
But then a sharp, and very high-pitched laugh pulled you both apart. Baby Sohee was laughing at something happening on the TV. You broke away and stepped back from Jeonghan.
“I’ll… bring her to her chair so she can have dinner,” Jeonghan said. And by the look in his eyes, you knew that there was something else on his mind.
You let out a tired breath. “What a Monday,” you sighed.
“Welcome to my life,” Jeonghan replied.
After dinner, Jeonghan started to ready Sohee for bed, and that usually involved a bath, brushing teeth and then bed. It took him around thirty or forty minutes. And in that time, you usually took it upon yourself to tidy the space up. Initially, you had started doing it to kill the time while waiting for Jeonghan to come back—despite his insistence for you not to do it—but lately, it felt like it was part of your routine too.
You had put all of Sohee’s toys in the basket, folded the blankets and were now doing the dishes. The task had fallen into a steady rhythm, and so you were deeply focused on washing a pan when a pair of arms snaked around your waist, startling you.
“Stay the night,” Jeonghan said, his tone low as he bent his head to rest it on your shoulder.
Your tummy twisted.
Ever since you slept with Jeonghan for the first time, you had fallen into a pattern of addiction. You would stay over at every chance you could get, which, granted, weren’t as many since you had a very hectic work schedule as a CEO Assistant and he as a single parent, and now newly ascended to Director. But even as you had finally stepped to that level of intimacy, it was life that constantly would get in the way. It wasn’t as easy to find a time for you to come to his apartment, and it would be nearly impossible for Jeonghan to spend the night at yours.
You felt his lips grazing a particular tender spot on the crook of your neck. “Hannie,” you sighed, recoiling from his sweet kisses.
“What?” he mumbled against your skin, you could tell from his tone that he was smiling. But he didn’t stop kissing your neck slowly.
You swore you could melt. When you took too long to respond, he giggled gently against your skin.
“Want me to stop?”
You had already scrubbed every inch of the pan you were holding under the stream of water; the task had been long forgotten. “No, I want you to let me finish doing the dishes,” you replied with a playful tone.
“Alright, my bad,” he said, stepping back from you and starting to put things away in the kitchen.
You watched him through the corner of your eye as he roamed all over the space. Feeling the absence of his touch on your skin made you swallow hard. “I didn’t say you had to stop,” you mumbled, feeling hot on the cheeks.
Jeonghan huffed, clearly still amused. “Baby, we’ve been going like this for weeks,” he said pointedly, then chuckled as he threw a look at your face, finding your pout.
Since the night when you slept with Jeonghan for the first time, you have had very few occasions of true intimacy. However, that didn’t stop Jeonghan from teasing you, touching you in places he hadn’t dared before that night, but now he did it at every chance he could get when no one else was looking.
It got you nervous. You liked him too much. Every time he touched you intimately, your mind would be thrown back to those nights where it was just you and Jeonghan. It made your blood dance, heating your entire body.
Only Jeonghan had that power.
You placed the last item on the drying rack and grabbed the hand towel, drying your hands before returning it to its place. “Fine, I’m done doing the dishes,” you said, putting your hands on your hips. “Where were we?”
Jeonghan let out a teasing huff. “You’re cute,” he said with a chuckle.
“You’re a tease,” you bit back, trying to sound as annoyed as you could, but instead your tone denoted how flustered you already were.
Jeonghan rolled his eyes at you, the smirk not washing off his face. “So? Are you staying or not?” he asked, his tone still playful.
“Only if you behave,” you said impishly.
Jeonghan raised his eyebrows, stepping closer to you. “Me?” he asked, his tone rising. He was close enough now that all he had to do was lift his hand to cup your face, fixing your gaze on him. “All I do is what you tell me, baby,” he said, his tone so low and raspy it was almost like a purr.
“So whenever you misbehave, is it because I told you to?” you huffed, not caring that his face was closer to yours now.
He smirked slowly as his eyes outlined your face. “Obviously,” he shrugged lightly. He finally closed the space between your lips and his, kissing you tenderly. “I always behave. While you, on the other hand…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, his gaze dipping to look at your lips briefly before he kissed you again. You smiled into the kiss, despite it being chaste in the way that he was only pressing his lips to yours repeatedly, creating soft, wet noises that only incited you to get more.
“Babe,” you muttered, laughing sweetly. “Kiss me properly,” you told him.
Jeonghan didn’t waste a second. Repositioning his hands around your face, he only leaned in, locking his lips with yours. His kiss was soft, but slow, wet, and so full of heat. You closed your eyes and let him dominate the kiss, parting your mouth when you felt the tip of his tongue swipe your bottom lip, and then you felt his tongue against yours.
Your legs tensed as an automatic response, a shot of arousal coursing through you like lightning. His hands switched from cupping your cheeks to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. That made a silent moan bubble in your mouth, so you grabbed him by the belt in his jeans, pulling him closer to you.
Jeonghan grunted in your mouth and then pushed you to the kitchen counter by simply taking two steps forward, making you take two steps back. His lips took yours with more vehemency now, kissing you deeply, with a very unique urgency. It made you lose control, it made you feel hot all over.
So you pulled back, but not far. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?” you said breathily, running a hand over his clothed chest.
Jeonghan smiled, making you think that he’d say something about your nervousness again. But he grabbed your hand, “Alright,” he said, and then he pulled you in the direction of his bedroom.
Whenever you stayed the night, you would wear Jeonghan’s clothes—mostly oversized t-shirts and sometimes sporty shorts. So much so that you’d noticed Jeonghan kept the clothes he’d lent you in a particular spot in his closet, making you suspect that he probably had stopped wearing them, only to keep them clean in case you came to stay the night.
Your gut twisted when Jeonghan pulled the same oversized t-shirt and handed it to you. “You know, you could bring some stuff in. I’ll empty a drawer for you,” he mumbled, turning on the bedside lamp.
He always said something akin to those words whenever he had the opportunity. It reminded you of his other request—of moving in. “Yeah, I’ll bring some spare pyjamas,” you replied nervously, turning on your feet to start unbuttoning your shirt.
“And maybe clothes for work?” he asked, and you could hear the hint of hope in his tone.
You already had a toothbrush and makeup remover wipes that you once bought to keep in Jeonghan’s bathroom. That time you’d also felt you were stepping over a line, for some reason. But Jeonghan thought it was endearing that you had asked him for permission beforehand. You don’t have to ask, he told you every time.
“Yeah, that too,” you replied, sounding short of breath. When finished unbuttoning your shirt, you threw a look behind you, seeing that Jeonghan had just turned his gaze elsewhere in that instant. You smiled to yourself, noticing that he, too, was acting strange, fidgety.
Or perhaps it was just staying behind the line you always painted. That was another thing that drove you crazy about this man—he always waited for your word. But he kept a keen eye on you, certainly making sure that you were not having trouble initiating. And this time was no different.
You liked Jeonghan. No, you loved him. And tonight, with all those questions roaming about in your mind, questions about moving in, taking care of Sohee, meeting her mother… You were simply too much in your head.
And Jeonghan knew.
After brushing your teeth and cleaning your makeup off, you slid into the bed beside him. He was eyeing you and the screen of his phone back and forth, waiting for you. “Ready?” he asked.
Your stomach twisted again. “Huh?”
Jeonghan smiled at you. “To sleep?” he added.
“Ah. Yes. Oh, yeah,” you stuttered nervously, scooting closer to him.
Jeonghan left the phone on the bedside table and turned the lamp off. He turned around, draping an arm around your waist as you also turned, forming up a spooning situation where he was the bigger spoon. He kissed your shoulder over his clothes, and then your cheek.
“Did you have a good day at work?” he asked, his tone soft and low.
You blinked, turning slightly to look at him. “Yeah. Why?” you asked.
He shrugged. “Hopefully I didn’t distract you too much with my stupid phone call,” he said.
Your heart softened. “It was okay, babe. Today's work was nothing out of the ordinary,” you told him, and then showed him a playful smile. “And I love your phone calls.”
“No matter how inopportune they are?” he asked, his tone waning ever so softly.
You nodded. “They never are. Stupid or inopportune,” you replied, your tone waning too.
He paused, looking briefly at your lips before bringing a hand to pinch your chin softly. “Where were you my whole life?” he asked.
Your heart could burst. You wanted to say a million things to him. You wanted to tell him how you fell in love with him at first glance, you wanted to tell him you loved him.
But you choked up. “I could say the same,” you whispered. And you weren’t lying—despite having had other boyfriends in the past, you had never ever felt love like this in your life. It only made you think that Jeonghan hadn’t either. And the thought broke your heart.
He smiled, moving his head so he could touch your forehead with his. “I’m never letting you go, you hear me?” he said.
You nodded. “Never.” Please.
You and Jeonghan fell asleep shortly after that, going back to your original spooning position. He wrapped an arm around you, and you snuggled close to him under the covers. Sleeping with him was extraordinarily good—he never moved, never snored, and you were careful not to disrupt his sleeping either.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, you felt him stir and slip out of bed. You became too conscious about it because the bed grew colder around you, and it was getting harder to go back to sleep.
You turned over, thinking that you might’ve done something to wake him up. But he was nowhere to be seen. “Jeonghan?” you called.
He stepped into the bedroom, carefully leaving the door ajar. “Did I wake you?” he asked, his tone low.
You watched him as he came back to bed. “What’s wrong?” you asked instead.
He sucked in a breath when he felt your warm body, as though he had been exposed to a chill temperature. “Sohee’s mother called.”
“This late?” you asked. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah. She’s fine. I suppose she didn’t look up what our time zone was before calling,” he explained calmly.
“Well, what did she have to say?” you asked, feeling sharply awake now.
He slipped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him. His clothes were cold, as well as his skin. He was probably having the phone call outside on the balcony so as not to wake you or Sohee up. “A bunch of nothings. She cancelled Thursday’s plan. Said she’ll be meeting us at the party.”
You couldn’t help but feel relieved. “Did she say why?”
Jeonghan shrugged. “Yeah. But it was all an excuse.”
Something inside you deflated with shame. Here you were, feeling relieved that you wouldn’t meet Soomin a day sooner; meanwhile, that also meant that Sohee wouldn’t see her mom either until the party. And Jeonghan’s lower tone reflected that pity.
“I’m sorry, babe,” you murmured.
“It’s fine. I had expected something like that,” he replied, but you could still hear the hurt in his tone. “She promised she’d be here for Sohee’s birthday. So, I’ll take whatever at this point.”
Now, you were even more reluctant to meet her. Your gut twisted, but before you could even process what type of feeling you were having, Jeonghan kissed your brow, easing the storm cooking up in your mind.
“Shall we go back to sleep, beautiful?” he whispered, moving his lips to kiss your eyelid, then your cheekbone.
Jeonghan was so sweet, so loving, that it scrambled your brains to think how he was yours.
His lips reached your cheek, and you moved your face so that the next kiss landed on your lips. He planted a sweet kiss, but then you parted your mouth, trapping his bottom lip in. You kissed him deeply, trying to put all of your feelings into one single kiss.
You wanted to show him that you were madly in love with him without having to say the words. You kissed him with such force that had him moaning in your mouth. He said nothing, only letting you lead as you pushed him by the shoulders, wordlessly telling him to lie on his back.
He gave you one confused look that quickly evaporated once you straddled him. His hands snaked on your thighs as you bent forward, taking his face in your hands to kiss him, moaning on his lips once his fingertips grazed the lace hem of your panties. The sound only gave him the green light to continue, exploring your skin with the pads of his fingers as he hiked the t-shirt up your torso.
You pulled back, but only to let him take the t-shirt off, leaving you only in your panties, and your chest bare for his view. His gaze roamed all over your bare skin, but it was for just a moment. You leaned in again, his hands latching to your waist, while the other fisted your hair by the side of your head.
You shifted on your knees, grounding your hips down on him—but just barely. Jeonghan was already hard, and you could feel him just by moving on top of him a little.
Dragging your fingernails down his chest, you crawled back to give yourself space to pull his shorts down. Your fingers hooked around the waistband of both his boxers and shorts, and you pulled, uncovering an inch of skin as one of your fingers traced a line over his thin but dark, happy trail.
Jeonghan sucked in a breath—but this time it was because of something else. “Sweetheart,” he mumbled, looking at your hands as you pulled his cock out, grabbing it with your other hand.
“Mn?” You raised your gaze to him.
His hands slipped on your hips, clutching you gently as you lifted them to move your panty line aside. “Condom?” he mumbled, groaning and clenching his jaw as you guided the head of his cock down your folds.
You pretended not to hear, lowering your hips and slipping him inside your warm walls, all in one go. And fuck, he was perfect—his cock was perfect too. The feeling of having him raw and stretching your pussy was the sweetest feeling you’ve ever felt. Your mouth fell open, eyebrows drawn together as you started bouncing on him gently.
“Fuck,” Jeonghan gasped, closing his eyes before sinking his head back on his pillow.
You anchored your hands on his chest, using him as support to roll your hips on top of him. And yet again, you wondered what the scene would look like—middle of the night, his pants halfway pulled down, you bouncing on top of him with your panties still on and trying your best to be quiet.
But it was nearly impossible. Jeonghan moved his hands from your hips, palming your breasts and caressing your pebbled nipples with the pad of his thumbs. You clenched your teeth together, letting out a soft whine as you ground your hips on him, trying to take his cock deeper into you.
“Quiet, baby,” he said, smirking. But then he moved his hands, one to your hip, the other on your lower abdomen. He pushed your panties further aside, pressing your lower belly with his palm before starting to rub your clit with the pad of his thumb.
“Fuck—Daddy,” you mewled, hips buckling on top of him.
“Do you like that?” he asked, his tone low. He glanced at your face once before his gaze dipped to your cunt, moaning at the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.
You nodded, picking up the pace of your hips. The pad of his thumb rubbed your clit steadily, not switching, unstopping. It was driving you closer to the edge with every second that passed, making your walls tighten around his girth.
“Is this what you wanted, baby? Daddy’s cock?” he asked with that lazy smile still on his face, his tone raw, but waning.
It drove you insane—the switch from being sweet and gentle to talking to you like that. “Mm-mmph,” you admitted.
He tilted his head back slightly, teeth clenched tightly as he tried to exert some control on himself. But as you continued rolling your hips on top of him, you saw him starting to fall apart—his eyes went white before he squeezed them shut. And then, he made a sound, a long, raspy moan that was stuck in his throat. “Baby, I’m not going to last long,” he said.
It was your turn to smile now. “That’s okay, Daddy,” you told him sweetly, and then you tilted your head, showing him a playful side. “I could slow down for you.”
Jeonghan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. “I don’t think that’ll make a difference,” he gritted, smiling despite himself.
His hands switched to your sides, lifting your hips with one powerful groan that rumbled in his chest. The sound made your pulse quicken, and your gaze immediately shot to the door, as though trying to fish for any kind of sounds coming from down the hall.
Jeonghan acted quickly—rolling your back onto the mattress effortlessly. A gasp spilled from your mouth, eyes locking with his as he slid your panties down your legs. And then he crawled between your thighs before taking his t-shirt off.
“We should be quiet,” you told him, smiling shyly as he placed his palms on your knees, pushing your thighs up to your chest.
“Let’s see how long you can do that,” he replied, letting out a tired giggle.
And he had a point about that. Last time you and Jeonghan had sex, you had been so noisy that the downstairs neighbors made some tacit remarks about a creaky bedframe. So you watched as Jeonghan grabbed a pillow, probably thinking the same as you and placed it behind the headboard.
“Can’t make any promises,” you mumbled, still looking as he pulled his shorts and boxers down, taking his hard cock in one hand and guiding it to your drenched pussy. You swallowed hard, holding your breath as the crown of his cock nuzzled against your entrance, and then he slipped inside you, so fucking slow.
You couldn’t resist it. The sight of his length disappearing in your mound was alluring, and the feeling of him reaching so deep inside you was even more delicious than riding him. He pushed your thighs to the sides of your ribs by climbing on top of you, so he was now fully pressing your body with his.
Jeonghan smiled. “See? Didn’t last long,” he said, hearing your soft whines as he bottomed out inside you.
“Fuck—daddy,” you gritted, breathing hard under the weight of his body, but you loved it. “Move, please, move.”
You didn’t need to beg—he did it right away, pulling back to push right in, creating a steady pace effortlessly. He framed your face with his forearms, his face so close to yours that he only leaned slightly to get a swift kiss. You cupped his head in your hands, lifting your head so you could kiss him deeper, earning a soft moan from him.
It was truly suffocating. The warmth of his body, being so close to him. Looking into his eyes as he claimed your body like it was his. It overwhelmed you—the need to be his woman and have him like this every night, forever. You were going insane with the mere thought—waves of love and lust coursed through you uncontrollably.
The room became flooded with the muffled sounds of pleasure—the small whines you made, the short moans Jeonghan let out in between tired breaths, and the very obvious creaking of the bedframe despite the headboard having a pillow to not slam against the wall.
You loved it. Loved how you both had fallen into an addiction of silent quickies in the middle of the night, stifling moans and speaking filth in hushed tones. The sheer adrenaline of trying and failing to be quiet made you wet. You could even catch the slippery sound of your arousal as Jeonghan pushed his cock deep inside you.
“God,” you gasped when he picked up a pace, fucking you faster, still massaging that glorious spot inside your walls.
And you let pleasure bloom inside your body with a hot, intense shiver. Long ago, it was so rare that you’d cum with penetration alone—but somehow Jeonghan always made you cum like that, effortlessly. Your mouth dropped open, almost tasting your orgasm on the tip of your tongue.
“You close?” he asked with sharp, ragged breaths. He gave you a dazed look, outlining your features with his gaze. When you nodded, he gave you another light smile. “Let go, baby.”
You stared into his eyes, watched him as his jaw twitched when he ground his teeth down—you noticed he was close too. “Cum with me?” you asked, cheeks turning hot as you heard how fucking sweet you sounded.
Oh, you were in love. You had come to this realization a while ago, but now it was becoming more and more unbearable. Your mind spun with questions—did Jeonghan know? Could he see it in your eyes? Hear it in your tone? There you were, riddled with questions while you were begging for him to cum with you, and he wasn’t wearing a condom.
“You’re cumming first, Babygirl,” he replied, his tone waning.
You could’ve sworn that he had a way to hear your thoughts, but you didn’t let that distract you—because you were instantly swept over by an intense wave of pleasure. A gasp tore from your chest, and before you could let out a scream, Jeonghan crushed his mouth against yours, drowning out your sounds of pleasure.
He continued thrusting in that same calculated pace until you became a puddle of pleasure. You were wet. Sweaty, hot, and quivering on his bedsheets. And he was kissing you softly, passionately, like he hadn’t done before.
“Felt good?” he mumbled.
You nodded. “Amazing,” you drawled sweetly.
“Good,” he mouthed, the muscles of his face tightening, like he was in pain—he was close.
Your heart skipped a beat. “Don’t pull out,” you said.
He blinked, his gaze finding you instantly.
“Please,” you whispered, linking your wrists behind his nape, as though trying to hold him right there.
He blinked slowly and then let his forehead rest on top of yours. “Fuck,” he sighed, pushing his hips against yours with tight, deep thrusts. You closed your eyes as another euphoric rush gripped your body wholly. “God—fuck, baby,” Jeonghan drawled, letting out a raw, quiet moan as he gave you a final push, his cock twitching in your walls as he spilled himself deep inside you.
Jeonghan remained there, breathing fitfully, his body completely glued to yours as though unable to move. And then you wished you’d known what to say next. You wished you knew what to do or say after making love. So instead, you moved your face, finding his lips with your own. You kissed him slowly, trying to convey the quick rhythm of your heart, the butterflies swarming inside your chest.
He pressed his lips against the corner of yours, then he kissed your cheek. “You’re okay?” he whispered, gently pushing the tip of your nose with his before pressing another kiss against your lips.
Your heart gave another leap. “Yeah,” you mumbled shakily. “We should probably get ready to sleep. You have work tomorrow.”
Jeonghan pulled back, blinking at you confusedly. “Yeah. Sure,” he replied, his gaze outlining your features. “But after I’ve taken care of you, baby.”
And when he peeled off your body, you knew you had made a mistake. You felt foolish then, because this man was clearly thrown off by the switch in your tone, confused by your evident refusal to talk about what was going on in your mind.
But he took care of you with the utmost gentleness, offering to start a shower for you, which you declined due to how late into the night it was. However, you cleaned up in the bathroom, and when you came out, he had a glass full of water ready on the bedside table, and he’d already changed the bedsheets.
“I put your clothes in the washing machine and programmed it for a quick start early in the morning,” he said thoughtfully as he unstuck the pillow behind the headboard. “They should be clean and dry by the time we both get up.”
It made you smile—the very careful manner in which he was fluffing the pillows as you approached the bed. “Thank you, babe,” you replied, feeling your heart warm up.
“Don’t thank me,” he whispered, lifting his head as you stood beside him before the bed. “Hopefully you will remember to bring in some spare clothes next time?” he insisted, smiling shyly about something, and then— “Sorry. I keep bringing it up.”
Your heart deflated. “Don’t apologize,” you replied, placing your palm on his side, feeling the muscle of his abdomen contract at your touch. “I’ll remember to bring some stuff in. I promise.”
“Okay,” he mumbled, grabbing your hand and taking it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go to sleep.”
You nodded, climbing back on the bed and snuggling him close. Jeonghan wrapped your waist with one arm, the little crook beneath your earlobe.
Your heart fluttered. “Do we already have a cake?” you asked suddenly.
Jeonghan pulled back. “What?” he mumbled.
You turned slightly. “For Sohee’s party. Did you order a cake?”
His brow creased. “Yes. Why?” he asked curiously.
You turned again, face to your pillow. “It’s nothing. I can bake really good chocolate cakes,” you gave him a light shrug. “Thought I could help with something.”
Jeonghan smiled; you felt the change in his breath on your neck, making you shiver. “I’ll remember that,” he said, pressing his lips to the first spot of skin he could find. “For her fourth birthday.”
The knot in your tummy twisted harder. “Yeah…” you trailed off, deciding to snuggle closer to him, silently telling him to hold you tighter to his body.
“Sleep well, pretty,” he whispered, unaware of the shift happening in you.
Your head was about to blow up. You were sure. And every time you blew air out of your lungs, your abdomen screamed in pain and exhaustion.
“Perhaps I’m not made for this,” you mumbled to yourself quietly, wrapping the bead around your fingers to secure a tight knot, and then proceeded to put tape on one side of it, sticking it to the wall.
You had successfully decorated the side of the dining room that had the most cleared space for it. There perched a big and colorful daisy of white and light blue petals, with a Happy B-day Sohee sign sitting in the centre in baby pink colors, made by your hand. You had pulled out your party decorating skills, which you had put away since entering college, but they came in handy the moment you realized Jeonghan wasn’t planning on decorating.
“Okay,” you sighed tiredly, looking at the wall. Now that you had one task done, you needed to tend to the other two tasks you had set for yourself.
Task number one was decorating, done. Task number two was tidying up the place for the guests. And task number three was psyching yourself up for meeting your boyfriend’s ex, and the mother of his daughter.
Your stomach did that thing again—it felt like some deep part of you protested against what you had ahead for you, and it wanted to draw your attention to it by stabbing you right in the gut.
But you went ahead and tidied the place up—putting toys where they belonged, folding blankets and taking them to the bedrooms, cleaning the kitchen counters, and setting the table just nicely.
Two hours had passed since you’d arrived at Jeonghan’s place, and all of your tasks were done. You realized you could sneak fifteen minutes of mirror talk and touching up your makeup before Jeonghan and Sohee arrived back home.
When you came out of the bathroom, you felt like something was shaking inside your veins, leaving a trail of prickled nerves in its wake. But you took a deep breath—catching the sweet smell of vanilla, sugar, and cinnamon from the birthday cake set in the centre of the round dining table. You outlined the entire space with your gaze, mentally checking every single item you told Jeonghan you were in charge of getting for the party.
Balloons. Fruit tray. Candy tray. Banana milk. Peach drinks (Sohee’s favorite), candles and goodie bags, which were dinosaur themed.
The smart lock of the main door clicked and beeped, making your stomach contract and your nerves fire up in different directions inside your limbs. Jeonghan was crossing the door carrying a backpack on one shoulder, gift bags hanging on the same arm he was carrying Sohee with.
“Hello, you two,” you chirped, anxiety instantly swept when you saw Sohee’s adorable face. “What took you so long?”
“Sohee’s teachers,” Jeonghan exhaled tiredly, closing the door behind him and watching you approach him and Sohee. “They had a lot to say to me. One of them even got emotional.”
“And what did they have to say?” you asked, eyes set on the little girl perched on her father’s arm.
“Oh, just how much they appreciate Sohee,” he replied, bumping his daughter on his arm and turning to her. “They said you were the best girl, right? The smartest, kindest and friendliest. She’s been pretty talkative at school,” he added at the end, giving you a meaningful glance.
You made a shocked expression. “Is that true?” you asked, and then giggled at the sound of your own voice.
Sohee was listening to the conversation while she chewed on the tip of her index finger. But she nodded intently.
“They gave her a couple of presents,” Jeonghan said, gesturing to the gift bags on his arm. “Some of them were from her friends, two of them were from her teachers.”
You took one glance at the gift bags. “Oh, shoot,” you muttered.
“What?” Jeonghan said, brow furrowing.
“I forgot the present I got for her back in my apartment,” you said dispiritedly. But you turned to Sohee, extending your hands at her. “Hi, sweetheart!”
Sohee inclined her little body forward, just as you grabbed her by the torso and wrapped her around your hip. The movement was so natural that it went almost unnoticed, but it was Jeonghan’s gaze, the way he blinked, and his eyes lit up as he looked at his daughter, pointing at the wall behind you.
“That’s okay, we can go get it tomorrow morning,” Jeonghan mumbled faintly, still looking at his daughter perched now on your hip.
“Mn,” Sohee hummed softly, kicking her legs up in the air and pointing at the wall slightly harder.
“Oh, right,” you turned on your feet, taking the baby girl to the living room area so she could see the wall decorations. “We made this for you, kiddo,” you chirped, looking at her pretty face.
She pointed again.
“D’you like it?” you whispered, heart warming up at the sight of her sweet brown eyes taking in the big daisy on the wall.
She nodded aloofly. And then kicked her legs, pointing them to the floor.
“Alrighty,” you mumbled, carefully setting her on the floor. You watched her run joyfully to her bedroom, perhaps to get something, a toy for her to show you.
But then you turned, catching Jeonghan still staring at you, hands deep in his pockets, head tilted to one side. But it was the tenderness in his eyes that made your heart flip in that same rhythm as before—the one you had been so keen on avoiding, but was becoming unbearable.
“Do you like it?” you parroted, showing him the wall with your hands. You exhaled, trying to calm your nerves down—but it was futile.
“I love it,” he replied with a warm tone coating his words. Then he approached you with a slow step, slipping a hand on your waist to pull you closer to his frame. He leaned his head forward, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
A vehement shudder crossed your entire body, and you let your eyelids fall closed as he planted another kiss on your forehead, this time longer. The words he said were ones you knew your heart was aching to hear—but the noise inside your head didn’t let you form a response.
The doorbell rang loudly, making you cringe visibly and turn to the door. “I’ll get it,” you said, slipping out of his embrace.
“No, I’ll get it,” Jeonghan said kindly.
“Then I’ll go get the birthday girl,” you said, forcing a smile that didn’t feel too stiff on your face—but your heart was going a thousand miles per second.
Jeonghan caught something in your face, his eyes outlining your features before you turned around and hurried down the hall and to the toddler’s bedroom.
Sohee was playing with the new dinosaurs that her father had gotten for her birthday. She already got them all lined up on the colorful bookshelf in one corner of the room. Your stomach twisted with cuteness overload when you heard the tiny noises she was making for a triceratops as she made it stomp across the shelf.
“Hey kiddo,” you cooed, approaching her and crouching behind her. “Your friends are here. Do you want to come with me and greet them?”
She turned around and directed a steady look at your face. “Yeap,” she nodded happily, taking another dinosaur in her fist and running out of the room, squealing like she knew she was the star of the day.
You rose, and with a big sigh, you followed the toddler down to the dining room. You greeted the guests, parents of Sohee’s friends from daycare. And before you knew it, the party had already started, and it was going smoothly.
You made light conversation as you got juice boxes for all the kids, who weren’t many, but they felt like a massive multitude when they were swarming around you trying to get juice boxes and goodie bags.
“Alright, alright!” you laughed, holding up both hands. “Everyone will get one, I promise!” you said while handing a goodie bag to each kid.
You felt a hand on the small of your back. “That includes me?” Jeonghan asked close to your ear before planting a kiss on your cheek.
You leaned into the kiss. “If you behave, I’ll consider it,” you replied warmly.
“Mmn,” he hummed, pressing another loving kiss. “You know you’re all I want.”
Your heart stammered, making you blink and find his eyes. Your tongue twisted, and you wished you had been quick enough to quip back something as enticing—but it was already too late. The doorbell rang again, but this time, neither you nor Jeonghan had to go get it.
It was Sohee’s mother, Soomin. She had only rung the doorbell to announce her arrival, since she knew the combination to the smart lock—a thing you had thought only you and Jeonghan knew, but you were proven wrong.
The person who crossed the door was entirely not what you had imagined. In all the scenarios where you had pictured yourself meeting Jeonghan’s ex and the mother of his child, you’d never imagined that it would be like this.
Soomin was beautiful. She was tall and had a bright smile as she crossed the door. “Where’s my girl?” she shouted from across the apartment, and your poor heart fell to your stomach when you saw Jeonghan smile widely.
“Oh, thank god,” he mumbled beside you. He ran quickly to his daughter, snatching her from the floor and making her squeal with the abrupt movement. Sohee laughed, drawing the attention of the room as Jeonghan carried her to see her mother. “Sohee baby, mom’s here!”
“Hi, peanut,” Soomin said in a high-pitched tone. “Happy birthday, sweetheart! Mommy is here,” she said, and then she leaned towards Sohee, who was sitting in Jeonghan’s arms.
But Sohee recoiled, turning her back to her mother. It was only natural, you thought, since the child barely recognized the face in front of her. But the scene before you hurt to watch either way. Jeonghan bounced the toddler in his arms, trying to drag her attention back to Soomin, who was getting something out of her leather handbag.
“Look what mommy got for you!” Soomin said, still speaking in that faux sweet tone. “Look!”
Sohee turned to see her mother getting a red gift bag, small enough that it fit inside the slick black leather bag. Sohee stared at it for a hard second before extending her hand and grabbing it, and then she proceeded to kick her legs to the floor.
“Alright,” Jeonghan said, putting the toddler back on the floor.
Sohee ran freely, and back to her little friends. Your gaze followed back to Jeonghan, who greeted Soomin with a very dry hey, but then approached to give her a quick hug, devoid of all kinds of affection. It was almost like neither of them knew how to treat each other anymore.
“Wow, you really went out this time,” Soomin said, looking at the decorations, the birthday cake carefully set in the centre of the table, birthday plates piled up, and trays of fruit and candy already about to empty.
“Oh, it was all her,” Jeonghan said, extending an arm towards you almost ceremoniously.
Your heart warmed up at the gesture, but your nerves had eaten you up already. You approached them with a stiff step until Jeonghan wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you up to his side, showing you off proudly.
“So I can put a face to the name, finally,” Soomin said, showing you a dashing smile. She extended a hand towards you. “I’m Soomin, Sohee’s mother.”
You took her hand. “Pleasure to meet you,” you said, smiling at her politely.
At that exact second, one of the little kids had pulled one of the candy trays from the table and thrown the candy all over the floor. “Oh—” you uttered, motioning to go clean the candy from the floor.
“I’ll get it,” Jeonghan said, giving you a quick but reassuring look. And then he said to you, “I’ll be back, baby.”
And you knew he didn’t want to leave you alone with his ex, but he also didn’t want you to go and clean up the floor. So you stood there, anxiously watching as Jeonghan picked the candies and put them back on the tray one by one.
“Can I help with anything?” Soomin asked, more for decency than true intentions of helping.
“Nope,” you said awkwardly. “Everything’s set up.”
Soomin leaned her head to one side slightly before throwing one glance to the kids playing with Sohee. “You’ve done a lot already.”
“It’s not that big of a party,” you said, shrugging.
She smiled faintly, and you knew what she was looking at. “It’s big enough,” she said faintly.
You followed her gaze, finding Sohee playing with one of her little friends. They were both sharing a soundboard that someone at the party had gifted her.
“She’s shy, isn’t she?” Soomin said, her tone was devoid of snark, but then she added, “Kind of like her father.”
Although the comment wasn’t ill-natured, it hurt your heart to hear it. “She just takes a minute,” you replied, wishing you hadn’t sounded so harsh towards Soomin. But your heart was beating frantically, making you afraid that it was going to jump out of your chest.
And then you watched as Soomin’s gaze went around the room again, stopping on the wall behind you. Her dark brown eyes went over the balloons forming a giant daisy, and the big birthday sign made by you.
“You’re really good with her,” Soomin said after a moment. Her eyes found you. “Jeonghan has told me about you.”
Your tummy clenched. “I care about her.”
“I can tell,” she replied, and then you caught an edge in her tone. And then added, softer, “Not everyone would step into something like this.”
You frowned. “Like what?”
Soomin raised her eyebrows, gesturing around the apartment, the toddlers. “Well, a life that’s already in progress, you know what I mean?”
You told yourself that the words were neutral. Nothing was targeted towards you. But it still felt like it was.
You forced a smile. “I didn’t see it that way.”
Soomin’s expression didn’t change; it was as though she were having a great time talking with you. “That’s probably why you’ve made it work. It was really brave of you to have stepped in. To do what I couldn’t.”
Your stomach clenched again, and your mouth twitched like you were about to tell her something you’d regret.
“Baby! Where are the candles?” Jeonghan called from the kitchen.
You exhaled, glad. “Excuse me,” you said, and as you walked away, you felt Soomin’s gaze on you, following you.
Your ears were ringing, anger still boiling inside you. Jeonghan was closing a drawer, his expression hardening at once as he took one look at you. “Everything okay there, beautiful?” he asked, glancing towards the living room.
You could still feel Soomin’s eyes on you. You nodded. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, trying to mask your anger. You would talk about it with him later.
His eyes outlined your expression. “Sure?”
“Sure,” you said, opening the top cabinet and then handing him the pack with green and pink candles in it.
Jeonghan grabbed the candles, sighing. “Looks like the party is going well,” he said, giving you a hopeful smile and glimmering eyes.
Despite the rage still tightening your stomach, you smiled at him. “Sohee’s happy,” you said, casting a look at Sohee. “I’ll go get her,” you told him, turning around and walking towards Sohee.
The toddler was happily focused on her toys and her little friends. Her eyes were wide and glimmering in excitement, and candy wrappers were spread all across the floor. Something caught your eye—a red, unopened gift bag, forgotten in one corner of the living room.
“Princess, come here,” you called softly, crouching behind her to see her at eye level. “Do you want cake?”
The question caught her attention immediately, making her turn around and face you. You stretched your hands to her, and she silently responded by stretching her little arms to you. You grabbed her, standing up to secure her at your hip, and she instantly wrapped her legs around you.
“Oh, I got her. Let me.”
Soomin was already behind you, showing you her palms so you could transfer Sohee to her grip. A pang of jealousy sank deep inside your belly, making you want to hold Sohee closer to your body, almost like a protective defence mechanism.
You conceded, though begrudgingly. “Of course,” you replied, but there was no way you could hide the disappointment in your tone.
With a fretful pain lacing your heart, you handed Sohee over to her mother. The toddler kicked her legs anxiously and turned to look at you as though trying to understand she wasn’t in your arms anymore. And with little control over yourself, you glanced in Jeonghan’s direction, almost as knowing he’d be looking. He had watched the whole exchange from afar, and he immediately recognized the dispirited look on your face, because all he did was offer you a solemn smile.
It made your blood boil. What else could he do? A tiny voice called inside your head. You’re not Sohee’s mother. The voice said with painful regret.
It was the truth. No matter how bad it hurt, you weren’t Sohee’s mother. And you were getting attached to her—attached to this life without having a true anchor to it.
And the thought ruined the rest of the night for you.
So you watched as Soomin sat on the table with Sohee sitting on her lap, the toddler forgot about the anxiety of being with a stranger as soon as Jeonghan stepped beside the chair and lit up the candles on the cake.
You debated whether to step closer or just watch from afar. The candles you had picked for Sohee’s cake were green and pink, and a single sparkling candle that, once Jeonghan got to light it up, stole the attention of the toddler. Her big, brown eyes glimmered in the dark against the sparkles that flew up to the ceiling, and instead of gasping or crying out as the other kids did, Sohee just stared at it, fascination spread across her face, parting her little lips.
Your stomach twisted in adoration. And you couldn’t resist it. You pulled out your phone and hit the record button, determined to save this little moment forever—even if in real life it only lasted about fifty seconds.
Sohee was happy. She ate cake happily, shared her toys with her friends and seemed to be getting better at talking with others. And that was the only shining light in your night.
By the time that all the guests had left, the apartment didn’t look as wrecked as you half expected it to be after hosting about fifteen people in it. The paper plates were stacked in a crooked tower, forks and spoons piled next to it on the kitchen counter, breadcrumbs spread all over the surface. There were plastic cups everywhere, toys, gift bags and confetti all over the living room floor.
The front door opened, and Jeonghan slipped inside the apartment, quietly closing the door behind him. The minute he stepped in, you decided to busy yourself by looking for a large trash bag that you had left somewhere in the kitchen.
“Well, that’s everyone,” Jeonghan said, pleased that all of the guests had gone home. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing.
You started shoving trash into the bag as quickly as you could without making too much noise, and you were half glad that there was so much to do before you went home because you needed to think.
But Jeonghan had already noticed you were in a mood, and you could feel him hovering in the kitchen, trying to get a read on you. “The party went really well. Everyone had a lot of fun,” he said, his tone gentle.
You were grabbing a bunch of plastic cups in one hand, throwing them inside the bag without caring that they were still half full. “Yeah. Sure,” you huffed, continuing to clean the dining table.
The silence that followed was truly unsettling, making you weigh on the tone you had used and the manner in which you were moving. You were stepping out of control, and you didn’t care where you were taking this conversation.
By the time you found the courage to raise your gaze, you found Jeonghan frowning at you. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Air left your lungs like you were suddenly punched in the chest. “Did you have fun today?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. “Because I didn’t.”
Jeonghan’s frown didn’t ease; he was confused. But his gaze softened, showing you worry. “What do you mean?” he asked, his tone dropping when he added, “Did something happen?”
You left the bag aside on the floor, dropping your arms at your sides in a defeated manner. “I mean, I spent the entire evening running around, trying to make sure everything worked,” you said, gesturing around you. “I made the food, drinks, decorations, and cleanup. I didn’t have the chance to sit down once.”
Jeonghan blinked. “You didn’t have to do all that.”
You sighed. “That’s easy to say now.”
He shifted his weight, motioning to approach you. “That’s not what I meant—”
“I know,” you cut him off, putting a hand between him and you. “I know you meant it nicely.”
You could feel the waves of emotion coming closer, coming to get you. And your body acted off of instinct, picking up one stray napkin on the table and folding it in half, almost as though preparing yourself to have something in your hand for when you started crying.
With a tearless sob, you added. “It would’ve been nice if someone had noticed while it was happening.”
Jeonghan’s frown disappeared. “I noticed.”
“Did you?” you asked, still holding your emotions back.
“Of course I did,” he said, his tone dropping to an even gentler one.
But you could still feel the tears prickling in your eyes, everything you held back making you taste them in your tongue. “Then why was I still doing everything while everyone else was enjoying the party?”
Jeonghan tilted his head to one side, looking at you as though finding you endearing that you were about to cry for something like this, but still approached you with caution. “Why didn’t you ask for help?” he said, and then he hesitated, almost as though wanting to take back his words, so he added instead, “I was busy with things as well, I thought we were both busy, baby.”
You deadpanned to him. “You really didn’t think I wanted to enjoy the party too?”
He opened his mouth, his eyes widening as his mind started to reel, you knew it.
But you kept going. “I wanted to sit down with her when she opened her presents. Or be next to her when she blew out the candles. Honestly, Jeonghan, I felt like a guest at a party I helped throw. I couldn’t even hold Sohee for two minutes!”
His face fell in utter worry, his shoulders going slack. “Is this all because Soomin wanted to hold her?” he asked, his tone hollow, like he now couldn’t believe you were throwing a tantrum over this.
You let out an exasperated sigh. “No—! Yes! But it’s not only that!” you stammered.
Jeonghan stepped back, but just slightly, as though he wanted to take a good look at your face—disbelief still contorting his face. “Soomin was just trying to have a moment with her as well,” he shook his head. “I don’t see that as a bad thing. Maybe you’re reading too much into it.”
“Am I?” you asked, raising your tone.
And Jeonghan sighed. “Baby… she’s Sohee’s mother.”
It wasn’t necessarily cruel. His tone was devoid of venom, but it still hurt—like a bitter truth being forced down your bloodstream, burning and leaving an ache in its wake.
Your entire body shook before a powerful shudder. “Right,” you said slowly.
Jeonghan immediately realized the weight of his words, the pain translating in your features. “Wait—” he said, his jaw set tight as his eyes widened in worry. “Baby, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant—”
You shook your head. “No, I get it,” you said, but your voice had lost all power, and the wall you had put between reason and emotions crumbled. Tears burst in your eyes, and a sob broke through your chest.
“You’re right. I’m not her mom,” you continued, giving him a brittle smile. “I never forgot that. Not for a second,” you said, voice cracking slightly. “You know, I keep reminding myself of that. Of where I stand.”
Jeonghan took another step towards you, this time more decisive. “Baby, you’re blowing this out of proportion,” he said, trying to be nice still, trying to figure out how to calm you down.
You looked down to wipe your tears. Confetti was spread all over the floor, and your stomach twisted at the thought of how this scene might appear from the outside. The apartment was a mess—gift bags, wrapping paper, candy, and new toys scattered across the living room. A half-eaten cake sat on the table, and balloons were stuck to the walls. The lights in the kitchen and living room remained on. You and Jeonghan were arguing, trying to keep your voices down so as not to disturb the little girl’s sleep.
You finally found the strength to look at him again. And when Jeonghan saw your tired face, fear replaced the worry in his eyes. He saw the determination in your eyes—he knew you well. “I think I’m going to go.”
Jeonghan sighed, motioning a step closer. “It’s late. Stay,” he said, his tone still wrapped in a careful gentleness.
You shook your head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jeonghan,” you said, your tone fading into a mere whisper. “I’m going home.”
He took a pause, studying you with his gaze roaming all over the features of your face, finding something in your eyes that made you wonder what you would look like. Because he seemed to lose all composure. “Baby, come on,” he said, his eyebrows drawn in. “We just had a fight. That doesn’t mean you need to leave.”
You sighed tiredly. “It wasn’t just a fight, Jeonghan,” you said calmly. All need to fight was gone now. You had lost. You shook your head. “I’m done.”
You turned around, heading towards the door. But you caught a glimpse of Jeonghan’s expression, the shock and worry making his eyes wide and glistening. “Baby.”
You grabbed your sweater and your handbag. The only two non-disposable belongings you had in his house.
“Baby,” he insisted again, more firmly now. “You’re not seriously leaving because of something I said.”
You paused, but you didn’t let the moment catch you in your determination. “It’s not just something you said. It’s a fact.”
Jeonghan stiffened, but words got stuck in his mouth, making his throat bob visibly.
You wrapped your fingers around the doorknob. And then all self-control slipped out of your hands. “Today I learned two things. One is that I was changing my whole life to fit into yours,” you told him, pulse quickening when you realized what you were doing, what you were breaking. “And the other thing is that I was the only one doing that.”
Jeonghan took a weak step towards you, his eyes showing the realization of what was about to happen. “We can still figure things out,” he whispered, eyes wide and glossy.
And something reminded you of how easy Soomin walked back into Jeonghan and Sohee’s life, how fleeting her presence was compared to the mess you had in your hands now. Your heart was breaking, and you couldn’t fit in your head how easy it was for her to walk out and walk back in. You envied that for a split second, because now you had a broken heart to fix.
Jeonghan still thought the problem was logical. And not something you had been wanting him to truly see.
You took in a deep breath. “Goodbye, Jeonghan,” you whispered, slipping out through the door and shutting it quietly behind you.
Coming back home to your apartment felt hauntingly out of the ordinary. It was as though you were stepping into a scene that had been put on pause. There was a forgotten glass of juice half empty on the kitchen counter, and you couldn’t remember leaving it there. The ironing board was standing in the middle of the living room, iron unplugged and in the holder—two things you had left there while in a hurry to get to your work in time. Plants all over the apartment were starting to wither, neglected.
A secondary instinct kicked in, telling you that at this hour you’d be helping Jeonghan tidy the place up while Sohee slept. You’d be stacking toys back into their place, folding blankets while Jeonghan did the dishes.
You closed your eyes slowly, finally hurting when you realized that you had walked out on all of it.
And your apartment didn’t feel like home.
You left your things on the counter and decided to plop down on the couch, face down against the cushions. Your pulse hadn’t slowed down since the moment you’d said goodbye to Jeonghan—and when you collapsed on the couch, you realized that you were crying. And you weren’t crying angry tears like when you were having a fight with Jeonghan, no.
You sobbed uncontrollably, tears kept coming and blurring your vision. And there was nothing in your mind except the memory of Jeonghan’s face when you walked out on him. You did the right thing, you told yourself, but your heart felt empty.
It had been the right thing. That much was true.
You loved Jeonghan. You loved Sohee.
Somewhere in the kitchen, you heard your phone buzzing, vibrating furiously inside your handbag. You ignored it. And you ignored it ten times all through the night, until it eventually ceased ringing.
Quiet settled around the empty apartment. An apartment that was yours, with all the things you built on your own. And the worst part is that it didn’t feel like home anymore. You kept wanting to reach for your car keys and leave somewhere.
Did you overreact? You wondered. I probably did blow everything out of proportion. You thought, remembering Soomin’s satisfied face when she told you that you were brave for stepping into her shoes.
Your chest tightened.
But you pushed it down.
The first twenty hours were hell.
That’s how Jeonghan felt. Like a long, gruelling torture that only pushed him to reflect.
The balloons on the wall had started to deflate, but he didn’t want to take them down. The rest of the things that you had prepared for the party had already been cleaned up, one thing that Jeonghan had done the morning after you left. It helped him think instead of bombarding your voicemail with messages pleading with you to call him back.
I could just go to her apartment, he thought. But he imagined the scene—Sohee on his arms as he begged you to come back. And he instantly pushed the idea away.
The apartment was awfully quiet. Until his phone started to vibrate on the dining table, making his stomach drop, and his hand reached for it instantly, thinking it was you, finally calling him back.
Soomin.
Jeonghan sighed, his heart deflating.
But then, a knock came to the front door. And for a moment, he thought he imagined it.
Then it came again. You knocked two quick times, deciding to step back from it and wait, clasping the gift bag with your hands. Standing there, your gaze fell out of focus, and inevitably started comparing the times you had stood there, how quickly Jeonghan would get to the door and welcome you in with open arms.
When Jeonghan finally opened the door, it was the first time you had seen him truly torn. It was normal for you to see him untidy after a long day at work, hair messy, unmade tie, untucked shirt, whatever. But no, this time was different. His face was darkened by the dark circles under his eyes, but it was the deep, conflicted sparkle in them that disheartened you completely.
“Hi,” you croaked, and cleared your throat nervously.
Jeonghan let out a quick sigh, running a palm down his mouth and chin before stepping aside, letting you in.
Your stomach twisted. You didn’t know what you were expecting him to say, but silence was the last thing you had anticipated. But you stepped into the apartment anyway, immediately spotting the quietness, which could only indicate one thing.
“Where is she?” you muttered, turning around to see Jeonghan shutting the door behind him quietly.
“Asleep,” he told you quietly, leaning back against the door with his hands tucked behind his back. You noticed the tired look he gave you, but that wasn’t the only thing that consumed your attention wholly—he was wary. “I just put her to bed.”
Your heart squeezed one more time, and you gave him a reproachful look. “Oh, okay,” you sighed, looking at the green gift bag in your hands. “Then I’ll leave this with you. She’ll like it, I’m sure. It’s a—it’s an axolotl plushie,” you said, stammering over your words with the need to hurry and get this over with. You wanted to run back to your car and cry.
Jeonghan nodded, licking his lips in a way that told you he had a lot to say, but decided to remain quiet. See how things would unfold first.
But this wasn’t going according to your plans. Your eyes began to brim with tears, which you blinked away quite successfully. “I wanted to see her one last time. Say goodbye properly,” you told him, tone lowering as your throat closed up.
He leaned the back of his head against the door, and as he blinked slowly, you saw his walls crumble down. “I know,” he said, his tone lowered too. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly.
You saw him blink up, fixing his gaze on the ceiling. “Is that why you put her to bed earlier than usual?” you asked keenly. “So I wouldn’t get to see her?”
Jeonghan nodded slowly, moving his arms and crossing them on his chest. “I didn’t want her to see this. I’m sorry,” he shrugged with a look of pity on his face. “But I think we should talk first.”
You felt your brow furrowing. “I thought we already talked, Jeonghan. Last night,” you said, feeling lost.
“Yeah, but last night you walked out on me,” he said, tilting his head to one side as his gaze changed, quickly being filled with disappointment and resentment. He pushed himself away from the door, approaching you with the same wariness.
“There was nothing left to say,” you muttered, trying to keep down the tight knot sitting in your throat.
“Really?” he gasped, stopping dead in his tracks just one step in front of you. His face had fallen in something that went far beyond resentment now, like uncontrolled exasperation and anger. “We could’ve solved things last night before you ended everything!”
Shame filled your bloodstream, coursing through your body and leaving your skin feeling hot and prickling with anger. You carefully set down the gift bag on the table, deciding to leave. “I won’t let anyone treat me like I’m second-best, Jeonghan. That’s why I walked out.”
It was as though you had slapped him in the face. He stepped back, blinking in a way that told you that your words had hurt him. But before you could have a confirmation on this, Jeonghan took another step, but now in your direction. “I didn’t treat you like second-best,” he replied, his face crumpling with hurt, and most shocking—you saw fear in his eyes.
“No? I was trying to make everything perfect for Sohee. And by the end of it, what did I get? Your ex walking all over me like I’m her stand-in!” you blurted, words coming out raw and shaky. But you were glad that, despite the overwhelming need to cry, you could still speak what troubled your heart.
Jeonghan looked at you like he was finally seeing the truth. Almost as though he had willingly blindfolded himself throughout the party last night, but now, he finally saw something he didn’t want to.
So, with heat flooding your chest, you continued, “You truly didn’t notice, Jeonghan? The tacit remarks she’d make? Or when I wanted to hold Sohee and she would casually step in? Or what about the moment she told me I was brave for doing what she couldn’t?” you said. Your throat tightened, anger burning as tears finally spilled. You wiped them angrily, refusing to look away.
“She said that?” he said with an empty look in his eyes as his shoulders sagged a little. “I didn’t hear her. I actually thought she was being nice. For once.”
“Maybe you didn’t want to see it because she was being nice to you,” you accused, crossing your arms to hold yourself steady. Or to protect yourself. “That’s myproblem. She doesn’t have to fight for a space!”
“That’s not fair. You don’t have to fight for a space—”
“No, but I do,” you interrupted, blood heating up after remembering how it felt. “And what’s not fair was pretending she was being nice. She knew exactly what she was doing, and whether you meant it or not, you let her.”
“I should’ve known she would do things when I wasn’t looking,” Jeonghan replied, his tone firm. But then his gaze softened, right as he too crossed his arms, making you think that he was guarding himself up as well.
You let out a resigned sigh. “But this isn’t truly about your ex, Jeonghan,” you finally said, gulping hard. “This is about us failing to do things right.”
And when he lifted his gaze back to you, you noticed a glint in his eyes, like sorrow taking over him. He wasn’t crying, but your heart slowed down at seeing that torn-up look on him. Your words had struck a nerve. “This isn’t on me—I tried making things right!” he said, not lifting his tone, his words devoid of heat.
“You were rushing into things! Asking me to move in? Putting me as the emergency contact on Sohee’s file without telling me?” you said, trying to keep your tone light, but instead you sounded like you were on the brink of tears again.
He still looked hurt, but now, he was beginning to detach himself from you—and you could tell. He shook his head like he couldn’t believe you, running a hand down his mouth, frustratedly. “I thought that you moving in with us would make us stronger. But now I know we weren’t on the same page with that.”
You understood why he delivered his words dryly, but it still made your aching heart deflate even more. Tears burst from your eyes again, and you hated that you were now out of control. “I just wanted to know that you weren’t just looking for someone to share the burden with.”
He let out a huff, a cold smile painting his face. “I don’t need someone to share the burden with; I have been doing fine on my own since Soomin left.”
You rolled your eyes—he was missing the point. “I wanted to be certain that you wanted me.”
That left him cold. His arms were still crossed on his chest, but you saw the smallest of budges, as though the very air had left his lungs, cracking that wall he was putting between you. “Is that it? Is that why you said no?” he asked, his tone softer. He motioned to approach you, but the look on your face stopped him.
You were fully crying now. No sobbing, no hiccupping, no runny nose. Just unstoppable tears streaking down your cheeks. Your lip trembled, just as you were looking for the words to tell him what you needed to hear from him.
His mind reeled—you could tell from the way his gaze shifted quickly, dropping from your face to the ground and then back to you. His brow twitched. “I thought you knew.”
You nodded. “I still needed to hear it, Jeonghan.”
His gaze fell to the space between you, as though trying to untangle this mess in his mind.
But it didn’t matter now. Nothing he could say now would ease the pain in your chest. You were done now. You wanted to go home.
You didn’t say goodbye this time. You didn’t want to drag it any further.
You walked past him, rushing to the door before he could stop you—or to be quick and have the confirmation that he wouldn’t try to stop you. And when you were safe in the elevator, your heart broke anew when you blinked and saw the image of Jeonghan standing in the dining room, a grief-stricken look on his face.
Oh, this would take you months to heal.
Your friends were right. Getting into a relationship with someone like Jeonghan would only bring you pain. Nothing else.
The walk from the elevator to where you had parked your car was excruciatingly long. Your chest was constricting more and more as you fished your key out of the pocket of your jeans, unlocking the car door from afar.
“Wait!”
Jeonghan’s raw voice crossed the parking lot like lightning shooting through the night sky. You stopped, not because you wanted to follow the request, but because of the sheer shock of knowing that he’d chased you down to the parking lot.
Jeonghan was catching up, running to where you stood, frozen to the ground. “Wait,” he pleaded, breathing hard as he reached you. “Don’t go… please.”
Had he run down the emergency stairs just to catch you before you got in your car? Had he left Sohee alone just to get to you? You stared at him, beyond disbelief.
He composed himself with one deep breath, raising his palms at you warily. “I know I don’t deserve this, but please hear me out.”
When you didn’t respond, a wild look of fear shot across his face, making his eyes widen slightly. “I didn’t ask you to move in with us because I wanted someone to share the burden of being a parent,” he said, his words honest despite the tremble in his tone. “I said those things because Sohee is my priority. I was dumb, and that was the first thing that popped into my mind. I wasn’t thinking of how I sounded.”
He gulped air, hard. “I asked you to move in with us because I feel empty when you’re not around,” he said, more fiercely, his eyes glimmering as he took another step towards you. “I asked you to move in with me because of the most selfish reason—because I don’t want to be without you.”
And then the look in his eyes turned to complete despair when you remained motionless. His confession had done nothing to you, or so he appeared to believe. But your heart was beating wildly, thumping in your eardrums. You stood there, torn between holding your ground and giving in to him.
His mouth parted, and he took half a pace to where you stood. But he stopped, as though all strength and courage had dissipated the moment your eyes began to brim with tears again. “Please,” he whispered, gulping hard once again. And you knew what he was feeling—his heart thrumming in his throat. “Don’t do this.”
He wasn’t scared of losing a perfect candidate for his ex’s stand-in. No—and you were a fool to have believed that. You had seen the terrible person his ex was and still decided to run with that idea.
What you had failed to remember was that Jeonghan had gone through difficult breakups before. His ex left him with a baby in his arms. And even if his relationship with Soomin had been loveless from the start, it was still hard, and it still hurt.
God knows how long it had been since Jeonghan felt love.
And the truth is, you trusted that not even he remembers it as well.
Jeonghan was exceptionally bad at sharing his feelings aloud. That is one thing you’ve learned in all eight months you’ve been with him. But then you saw his posture change, the strength in him waning. “I won’t let things go this way again,” he told you, his eyes pleading.
A brutal shudder coursed through you. You loved this man. There was no way you could just turn around and walk away.
Your lip trembled. “You promise?”
It was as though life had been injected into him, hope glimmering in his eyes now. “I promise,” he replied.
With just a couple of paces, you closed the space between you and him, grabbing him by the collar of his black t-shirt and pulling him in. And he simply let you, receiving the impact of your smaller body against his by grabbing you by the waist, already knowing you were aiming for a kiss.
Your lips clashed with his in a crushing kiss; it almost hurt, but you didn’t care. Your body brimmed with energy, making your fingers curl around the fabric of his t-shirt. It was a leap of faith—but this time, you were ready. “I love you,” you said, squeezing your eyelids tightly.
A small sigh escaped him. “I love you too,” he replied, switching his hands from your waist to your face, cupping it before going back to kissing you. “Please, stay,” he whispered before pressing his lips against yours tightly.
You melted in his embrace. “Okay,” you replied, nodding.
He wrapped you with his arms completely, placing one hand on your back and the other on your head, making your face nuzzle against the crook of his neck. “You scared me,” he whispered, the sound of his voice strangled.
You swallowed hard. “You scared me too,” you admitted.
He kissed the top of your head, moving to cup your face again. “I know this doesn’t solve everything,” he said, his tone brittle. That’s when you noticed his eyelashes crumpled with tears. “So I think we should talk about what comes next.”
You shifted slightly to get the tears on the corners of your eyes. “What do you mean?”
He seemed to calm down with one breath. “Soomin is still going to be part of our lives.”
You nodded. “I know.”
His eyebrows knitted slightly. “And sometimes our lives will get messy.”
“I know that, Jeonghan,” you whispered, smiling at him softly.
He caressed your cheek tenderly. “But I want you to talk to me every time something feels off,” he said.
“And will you?” you asked.
He nodded. “Every single time,” he said. “I want us to be stronger together.”
The certainty in his demeanour made you pause. “You mean that?” you asked with a tiny tone.
“Yes, I do,” he replied. “I should’ve told you this before. I don’t want to be without you.”
And now the honesty was the thing that disarmed you completely. For a second, you almost felt like your vulnerable side was about to win, but you sighed. “I was jealous of her,” you confessed.
He blinked in disbelief. “Of Soomin?”
You nodded. “She’s Sohee’s mom. I didn’t like to feel that I was competing with her.”
“You weren’t,” he said with certainty. “Things got messy yesterday. I didn’t notice she was trying to make you feel insecure.”
You shook your head lightly. “This whole thing feels ridiculous now.”
He frowned. “What does?”
“All of this,” you gestured to the space between you and him. “We nearly blew up our entire relationship because we couldn’t talk about what we actually feel.”
He let out a light laugh. “It won’t happen again,” he said, stepping back and grabbing your hand, motioning back to the building. “Let’s go back inside?”
You nodded, walking with him, feeling ten times lighter than before.
You both stepped into the elevator, still holding hands. But as soon as the doors closed, Jeonghan tugged at your hand, pulling you closer to his frame. He wrapped an arm around your waist, finding your cheek with the other hand. “Will you forgive me?” he mumbled softly, smiling at you like he was shy. “I let things go out of hand.”
Your heart softened again, making you choke up, so you just nodded. “Me too,” you whispered. “I apologize too.”
He blinked slowly. “We talked about this before, remember?” he told you. “My life is messy, and I haven’t had a relationship since Soomin. I think this is us trying to find the balance in everything.”
You smiled at him. “Please don’t tell me that finding the balance will look like this every time.”
He laughed lightly. “I told you, baby. I won’t let this happen again,” he said, full of certainty. “I mean it.”
You sighed softly, relief finally setting in. “Okay,” you whispered, closing your eyes as he leaned in to kiss you, pressing his lips against yours ever so tenderly, like he was trying to isolate every single feeling and just focus on how your lips felt against his.
The kiss deepened, lips locking together in a heated dance that had your blood dancing in your veins almost instantly. A moan bubbled in your mouth when you felt the tip of his tongue swiping on your bottom lip, touching your tongue as it rolled inside your mouth.
You placed a hand square on his chest. “Don’t think you’re off the hook,” you said, faking a stern look on your face.
The elevator reached the floor, doors parting with a soft ding. Jeonghan took your hand again, as though not wanting to let you go for one second. “I didn’t think it would be that easy,” he said with a smirk. “But please tell me what I can do to get there faster.”
You laughed. “Well, first, you could give me a neck massage.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s starting strong?” he laughed.
“And take me for dinner at that restaurant you keep telling me you wanted to take me,” you said.
“You free tomorrow?” he said while opening the door for you.
He quickly pushed your back against the wall of the hall to his bedroom, locking his lips with yours in a quick, but passionate kiss. “I could pick you up at eight,” he said, his tone raw.
“I dunno. I’ll have to check my calendar,” you replied jokingly, putting your hands on his chest, feeling him up.
Jeonghan giggled into the kiss. “You do that,” he replied.
You smiled, letting him dominate the kiss. And Jeonghan quickly took on the task, kissing you vehemently, like putting every emotion he felt for you into a silent dance of his lips with yours. His hands slipped from your face, finding your waist to clutch on as his tongue rolled inside your mouth.
You moaned, feeling his tongue against yours sent a shiver down your spine. Your hands on his torso slipped further down, finding the hem of his clothes and slipping beneath his shirt, feeling his warm skin.
The muscle of his abdomen contracted softly. “Wait—” Jeonghan said, pausing mid-kiss with a smacking sound from his lips and yours. “Bathroom.”
You were only able to moan out a sound of affirmation. The door to the bathroom was a couple of steps away from you, and when you both got there, it was as though a lightbulb had been switched on in your mind. Jeonghan was intending to take you to the most secluded place in the house—far away from the baby’s room.
Jeonghan turned the lights on with one hand, undoing the button of his jeans with the other. You acted quickly—taking one step in his direction and grabbing the black t-shirt, enjoying the look in his eyes, the hunger, the lust and devotion in them.
The clothes came off quietly—hurriedly, while his gaze remained trained on your face. Jeonghan was quiet, unusually quiet as you worked your trembling fingers to undress him. “Do you want to undress me?” you mumbled, your tone sweet, but low.
He blinked slowly and nodded, biting his bottom lip. He first grabbed the hem of your tank top, hiking it up your torso while you raised your arms to help him in the process. His gaze shifted to your chest when your bralette came into view. “I like this,” he whispered, running the pad of his thumb along the pretty lace hem of the cup of the bralette. “You know I like this one.”
You smiled softly. “If you’re suggesting that I wore the bra you liked to break up with you in case something happened, then you’re sorely mistaken,” you replied smugly.
He matched your smile. “I’m glad,” he whispered, tilting his head to meet your lips with his. He kissed you once, softly at first, his lips creating a low smacking sound when he pulled back, but not far. “I’m glad you didn’t break up with me.”
“I guess all we needed was to talk it out,” you joked in between hurried, heated pecks. Then your breath hitched, Jeonghan’s cold fingers had found the clasp of your bralette.
Jeonghan sighed in amusement. “Who would’ve thought,” he replied with an obvious tone while his hands gently eased the straps off your shoulders, and took your bra off your chest.
You needed one second to take in the situation in—you had just gone through one of the worst moments of your life, thinking that you were breaking up with the man you had fallen head over heels for. And now to be back in his apartment, hiding in the bathroom with him so that whatever went down in there wouldn’t wake the baby up.
It felt strangely exciting.
He pushed the tip of his nose against yours softly, making you angle your face as he swiped the tip of his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You parted your mouth, letting him in with a silent moan, right as his tongue found yours. He kissed you slowly, sensually, like he had been aching to do that for the longest time, but things just got in the way.
You understood then, all the intense gazes, the way he kept looking at your lips…
“From now on, I’ll tell you everything,” he told you suddenly, giving you small kisses as his hands came up to cup your face lovingly. “Every single thought that crosses my brain, you’ll know it.”
You laughed at that, the sound louder than anything else; it bounced off the walls in a denouncing manner.
“Quiet, baby,” Jeonghan uttered, but he let out a tiny giggle with you anyway. “Sohee might hear you.”
You couldn’t help it; your heart melted. “Sorry,” you whispered, but the smile didn’t wipe off your face.
He tilted his head to one side, smiling endearingly at you. “I have a feeling you like this,” he muttered, voice low like a purr.
You nodded, biting your lower lip as you pushed his boxers down.
“You like it when I tell you to be quiet,” he kept going, keeping his tone down.
His gaze dropped to your hands as you grabbed his cock and started stroking him with your hand wrapped around the underside of his shaft. He had a pretty cock, soft and veiny on his thick shaft, dark pink on its head.
Seeing your hand rolling up and down his erect cock made him swallow a grunt, but as you twisted your grip around him, the sounds he made grew louder. How easy it was for him to surrender under your touch caused a deep satisfaction to bloom in your chest. But more than that, arousal had already started to pulsate between your legs. You enjoyed giving him pleasure just as much as you enjoyed receiving it.
“I like everything you do, daddy,” you mumbled, your tone wrapped in honey.
“Fuck,” he sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. He slipped his hands on your waist, clutching your skin tightly but not enough for it to burn. “You make me crazy.”
Your fist tightened around the crown of his cock, smearing the slick precum leaking from his slit. You loved pleasuring him, yes, but you needed him inside you—the thrumming between your legs ached to feel him. A cunning smile painted your lips, considering playing with him some more.
But Jeonghan caught that naughty smirk on your face.
In one motion, he pushed your back to the countertop of the sink. You gasped at the sudden movement, but before you could protest, he was already getting to one knee in front of you.
“If you make a single sound, I’ll stop,” he told you, his eyes darkened with need and lust.
And without waiting for your verbal response, his head dipped down, pressing his mouth to your mound. He kissed the top of your pussy first, pressing his lips to your skin tenderly, almost adoringly as his sweet brown eyes found yours, but briefly. You let out a ragged breath, parting your legs by half, sitting on the countertop. That gave him all the access to your slick folds, which he nipped and licked eagerly.
You instantly tensed, your hand finding his head and the other holding onto the basin like your life depended on it. Jeonghan knew you well; he knew how you liked being touched, how to eat your pussy out until you were a mess of tears and babbles. He knew how to make you cum. What he was doing now was just to tease you, to drive you crazy—licking the juices off your folds with pleased grunts from his part, loving the way you were always ready for him.
He grabbed your thighs, spreading you further apart so you stopped twitching and moving—and licked your pussy up and down slowly, thoroughly, only to tease you some more.
But then he finally wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it ever so lightly.
Your jaw went slack, and to not let a scream out, the hand that was previously clutching the basin flew and landed on the tap, accidentally pushing it open. The sound of water flowing freely was the perfect mask for your whiny moans, because Jeonghan had started to run his tongue flatly on top of your engorged clit, all the while his lips kept it trapped.
Thoughts ceased to exist. Nothing mattered to you except for the sweet waves of pleasure running uncontrollably through your veins, making your skin prickle and your nipples pebble. It was as though you were submerged in a pool of pleasure. Your breathing turned ragged, and your body tensed solely to let the orgasm build up—because Jeonghan wasn’t stopping, and apparently, he had forgotten about the no noise rule.
Or maybe he liked this too.
But then he lifted his face slightly, keeping his lips and tongue on the top of your pussy as his lust-filled gaze met yours. You sank your teeth on your bottom lip, using the hand that was cradling the back of his head to push his face against your cunt, begging him silently to continue.
Jeonghan eyed the basin swiftly, briefly. And that was all the command you needed. You pushed your thumb against the tap, shutting it off.
However, he continued being a tease. Or a menace. He dragged his tongue against your swollen clit, pushing the wet muscle against you, achingly slow.
Your eyebrows pinched. Please, you begged with just one look.
There was a smile that only showed in his eyes right before he resumed eating you out, sucking and licking your clit. And he only needed to do it for mere thirty seconds before your orgasm tore through your body. You forgot about pulling his hair, taking that hand against your own mouth to stop yourself from screaming.
The waves of pleasure running through you were beyond anything else you’ve felt before. He’d teased you for so long that you were very much ready for that orgasm, leaving you limp and trembling on the countertop.
Your chest was rising and falling dramatically. Embarrassed, you cast a look at Jeonghan, who was pushing himself onto his feet with a light but wicked grin on his face. He didn’t need to say anything, he knew that you’d liked that.
And you needed him now.
You grabbed his wrist, pulling so that he stood between your thighs. “Wait,” he whispered, sliding his hands on your thighs to bring you to a halt.
You instantly knew what he’d say. You shook your head. “I want you now,” you mumbled.
But he motioned a hand to the cabinet behind you, where you knew he kept one large box of condoms. He kept it there and would also restock the bedside table every night you stayed in.
You grabbed him by the hip, pulling him closer to your body. “Now,” you whined.
Jeonghan didn’t resist, didn’t question you.
His hands returned to your thighs, wrenching them further apart and positioning himself between them. Tilting your hips up, you angled yourself for him while still sitting back on the countertop—you knew he liked the view of his bare cock entering you, the view of your pussy stretched open with his girth.
So his head dipped, keeping his gaze where your body and his were about to join. He pushed his hips closer to yours, and you took his cock, guiding it to your sopping core. His mouth parted when the crown of his cock nuzzled your entrance, and a rush of excitement flowed through you when you felt him push inside.
Feeling him raw, skin on skin, was a delicious experience. Maybe it was more in your brain than in your body—because you swore you could cum right there and then, and he wasn’t even fully inside you.
You caught a glimpse of his face changing, of the pleasure taking over him quickly as he gave the first thrust, the muscle of his jaw twitched, and he immediately crushed his mouth with yours. With a muffled moan, he started moving, languidly at first, as though testing you.
“God, baby, you feel… amazing,” he whispered, pushing his hips with gentle motions. You believed that he wanted to take it slowly, so he wouldn’t finish fast and inside you. But then you heard how fucking wet you were. You could hear his cock slipping in and out of your walls, and Jeonghan wanted to enjoy it.
You cupped the side of his neck with one hand, motioning his gaze back to yours. You stared into his eyes for a long moment while he took your body slowly. Jeonghan blinked, his hands grabbing your thighs and motioning them around his hips, making it even harder for him to pull out.
It was a game you both had. And it made you feral. You loved it.
Jeonghan pushed his body flushed against yours, thrusting slowly, but deeply. “Like that?” he asked, although he didn’t need to—the look on your face told him enough.
But you nodded either way. You remembered what he said about telling you every single thought that crossed his brain, and you decided to give him some of your thoughts in return. “I love this,” you whispered. “I love feeling you like this.”
He let out a grunt, bowing his head to kiss your shoulder. “I know,” he sighed, his breath fanning your pert nipples. “I love it too.”
You slipped your hand from his neck and then locked your arms around his shoulders. All reason flew out of your brain, and then you knew you were just babbling—but you didn’t care. “The thought of you cumming inside me makes me cum,” you mumbled, uncaring of how pathetically sweet your tone sounded.
“Oh, fuck,” Jeonghan moaned loudly, the sound barely muffled by the crook of your neck, hips stuttering against yours for half a second.
You cupped his nape with your hand as he lifted his head to face you. “Yeah?” he hummed, his gaze taking you in. “Want me to pump you full of my cum?” he asked with a playful lilt.
You nodded, incapable of giving him a verbal reply. The question was crude; it sounded beyond dirty and sinful as it came out of his lips. This surely wasn’t the first time he spoke filthy things to you, but it was the first time he asked a question like this.
And you loved it.
The pacing of his thrusts quickened, but didn’t relent on their depth, keeping his body flush against yours. You could feel the film layer of sweat covering his skin, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if you were sweating as well.
But you noticed that Jeonghan was forgetting about your game of keeping quiet. The pacing of his thrusts quickening also meant that the sounds of skin slapping against skin were harder to avoid. You thought of mentioning this to him, but it turned you on to see him lose control slowly.
“Babe,” you whispered, “be quiet.”
Jeonghan had to bite his smile back. And fuck, you loved this man. One of the things you loved about him was how sexy he could be. He pushed his hips against yours in a particularly thorough way that made you think he was trying to reach as deep into you as he could, making you whimper loudly.
“You be quiet,” he bit back, continuing to slip his cock in and out of your walls deliciously, making you see stars.
Your eyelids fell closed, but you could capture the image of him leaning his face closer to yours, feeling his breath on your lips before he kissed them. “Quiet or you won’t get to cum,” he said, his tone raspy, tired.
“Doesn’t that mean you won’t either?” you taunted, loving the way the pacing of his thrusts changed. You knew he was trying to draw out his own pleasure, make himself last longer.
Jeonghan laughed, the sound languid. “Remember how I got you to shut up that one time?” he asked, his tone still low, waning. And when the memory instantly flashed behind your closed lids, your walls tightened around him, drawing out a moan from him.
That time, he showed you a different side of himself. You were being louder than most nights, having fun by testing how far Jeonghan would go to make you submit to him.
“Yeah, you remember it,” he drawled, moving his face ever so slightly so he could join his lips with yours, all while still moving inside you painfully slow. He was edging you, and in turn, he was edging himself as well. “I thought you looked pretty with my cock inside your mouth,” he said.
You could’ve fallen over the edge in that second. A shameful whine came out of you, but you were too gone to even think of how pathetic you were sounding. You didn’t care. Having Jeonghan inside you, raw, and speaking filth to you felt so good. “I’ll be quiet, Hannie,” you told him. “Just don’t stop.”
With a grunt, Jeonghan obliged, changing the push and pull from a painfully slow one to a deliciously hard and deep one. You let out a silent moan, angling your hips to him so he could reach deeper inside you, so you could feel him completely.
Jeonghan cussed, his voice drowned out by the dull sound of skin hitting against skin. And it was then that you knew that this was his obsession—the quiet play, the bickering, the very obvious sounds of pleasure…
And you simply let him take you. The closer he grew to his orgasm, the closer you felt like giving in to the sweet pleasure dancing beneath your skin. Jeonghan parted his mouth, and you felt his hips buckling, his hands gripping your hips, his body flush and pushing against yours…
“Fuck, baby,” he said with a tired, but blissful drawl. “I’m close,” he said, his words heavy with meaning.
And you knew what he wanted to say. “Inside,” you moaned. “Do it inside me.”
Jeonghan gave you another one of those hazy smiles, tilting his head back so you could see his face, while pleasure took over the features of his beautiful face. “Are you going to cum for me, sweetheart?” he asked, looking like he was in between happy and tired.
You nodded. “Uh-huh,” you mewled, aware that the sounds bouncing off the walls of the bathroom had become louder. But you didn’t care, and Jeonghan didn’t seem to pay attention.
He pushed inside, slamming his front to yours, switching the grip on one side of your thigh to your hair at the base of your head. “Then give it to me,” he whispered, the sound raspy and full of greed. “Cum for me.”
You could’ve gone off simply from the way he was talking to you. But you needed to get it done, fast, now. You moved your body slightly, taking your hand in between his body and yours and started rubbing your clit, teasing it with fast swirls. “Daddy,” you moaned, louder. His thrusts were deep, hard, and so fucking good. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Jeonghan responded with a deep moan of his own. “Baby,” he gasped, releasing the grip he had on your hair, his hand sliding down your back as he dropped his forehead on your shoulder.
You closed your eyes, letting your orgasm barrel down your body, letting Jeonghan push his cum deep inside you with a couple of final, languid thrusts. His face was pressed tightly against the crook of your neck, making your skin prickle as he breathed hard against you.
The inner side of your thighs trembled quite dramatically as you tried holding onto him. Jeonghan let out a light, breathy giggle, right as you, too, were composing yourself, caressing his naked back with the tips of your fingers.
Then you felt his lips on the crook of your neck, your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. “I’ll start a shower for you,” he croaked, lifting his head to direct a tender look at you. “I have to go check on Sohee.”
You nodded. “Okay,” you replied.
But there was a great reluctance in his following movements. Casting a look down your body, he carefully peeled his body back from yours, turning around to start the shower. You watched him as he walked back, only to plant a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose before grabbing his shorts and slipping through the bathroom door.
Once you found your limbs, you climbed off the counter and stepping before the shower. After testing the temperature, you stood below the stream, closing your eyes as you let the water wash down your face.
Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of a thousand questions and things that you still wanted to say. But one thing was finally clear to you.
The gentle sounds coming from the door announced he was back, right as you were halfway done washing up. When he stepped into the shower, he immediately wrapped his arms around you, his chest pressing against your back as he embraced you tightly. “Hey,” you mumbled, grabbing his forearm to squeeze him.
He inhaled deeply, pressing his lips to your hair. “Hey,” he replied, his tone low and raspy.
You turned around, moving on the shower floor so that the stream bathed his bare skin. “Let me,” you said, grabbing the soap and washcloth.
Jeonghan gave you a sheepish smile. “Oh, are you going to wash me?” he asked, his tone turning playful as you nodded at him silently, looking into his eyes. “Alright, just don’t give me those eyes, or we’ll never get this done.”
You laughed, the sound filling the bathroom. His glimmering eyes found your face, and you could see the minute his mind snapped with decision. Cupping your face in his hands, he pulled you in for a kiss full of passion and endearment. “I love you,” he mumbled, his tone so gentle that it made you think he was relieved to say it.
“I love you,” you replied, laughing softly before he pressed his lips against yours again.
“What’s that?” he asked in between pecks.
“Nothing,” you huffed as he moved to kiss your cheek. “You’re very confident now.”
He responded with a light laugh of his own. “I don’t care. I’m going to say it more,” he told you, sounding serious like a warning.
“Good,” you mumbled faintly, as he bent down to kiss your neck.
“Starting now,” he said, slipping his hands from your lower back to your rear, pressing you against his frame.
“Careful,” you replied. “You might start sounding desperate,” you teased.
You felt him smile against your skin. “Desperate, huh?” he asked, his voice low and in your ear.
“Well,” you said, tilting your head to give him more space for him to kiss, “you did just almost lose me.”
He nodded. “That put things in perspective.”
A sigh escaped your mouth when he kissed a particular sweet spot on your shoulder. “You’re going a bit overboard.”
“Mmm,” he sighed against your skin. hands squeezing your ass, but just softly, tenderly. “I love you.”
You bit back a smile. “See?”
“You’re the one who wanted me to say it.”
“I didn’t say you had to start saying it every minute,” you said, smiling despite yourself.
He pulled back, making you miss his lips on your skin instantly. “I can slow down.”
You bit your lower lip, nodding. “Please.”
But he showed you a charming half smile. “I love you.”
You laughed, trying to push his shoulder. “You’re a tease.”
A pause. The smirk wiped off his face as he exhaled softly. “And yet,” he said, his eyes glimmering with something you hadn’t seen before in him, “you’re still here.”
You watched his eyes for a moment, your pulse quickening. “That’s still under review,” you tried to joke, sounding out of breath.
If Jeonghan heard your tone, he made no comment about it; he played along. “What can I do to help my case?”
“I already told you,” you said, looking at his eyes and then his lips.
He nodded, leaning to kiss the tip of your nose. “What else?” he whispered.
You slipped your hands from his shoulders, down his torso, feeling his warm and wet skin. “Let’s go to that water park… all three of us together.”
He smiled before pressing his lips against yours. “You got it,” he replied.
Your heart shuddered. “Jeonghan?” you mumbled softly, feeling his hands all over your skin, exploring you, getting you aroused again.
“Yes?”
“Ask me to move in with you,” you said, tone falling to a mere whisper.
He pulled back, only to look into your eyes. He didn’t hesitate. “Move in with me.”
Your eyes glimmered, your whole body trembling with joy, relief, and love. You nodded. “I’ll move in with you.”
Jeonghan smiled. “Good,” he mumbled, content. “I love you.”
You groaned softly, rolling your eyes playfully. “Oh my god,” you said, loving the sound of his laughter bouncing off the walls. He leaned over, showering you with kisses again. “I love you more,” you replied shyly.
“Impossible,” he said.
› author's note pt. 2: hi hey hello!!
so, we're are so back. and jeonghan is coming back? hannieween is writing again? hell yeah
OKAY BUT I WANT TO TAKE A MOMENT TO ADDRESS SOMETHING HERE. apparently, tumblr has moved some things so that if someone comments, likes or reblogs a post that has been previously reblogged by someone else, i won't get to see those notifs. so for example, if you're not reblogging this from my page directly, i won't get to see it 😭 so if you guys comment, like, reblog, etc, i appreciate you all so much, i might not get to see it, but i appreciate it anyway!
kim mingyu & choi seungcheol from seventeen
and how is it y/n fault that the two (fantastic) one night stands were not just best friends, but room mates.
word count: 3.6k
warnings: threesome smut !! reader has a vagina & tits, name calling, p in v, effiel tower, oral sex both m & f receiving, breastplay, kitchen sex, cheol loves to motorboat you, daddy kink, sir kink, mingyu is a lil sub while cheol is a huge dom, big cocks!gyucheol as it should be, vouryerism masturbation, overstimulation, double creampie, sex without a condom (pls wrap it !!!), filming, mirror sex, hair pulling.
a/n: surprise !!! wrote this right after watching the pretty woman music video, sat in my drafts and now it's my thank you for 200 followers after realising how hot it truly is. thank you for the support and i can’t wait to keep writing for yall <3
You smiled at the dark hair, hot, fit man that peacefully slept next to you. Glancing at the clock that read 6am, you realised you've overstayed your welcome as you slowly and quietly creeped around his bedroom to change back into last night's clothes (without the shoes or your purse, that's at the front door) and even stealing a piece of minty gum that was on Mingyu's desk. But you truly would not be able to guess, the surprise on what was on the other side of the door when you opened it.
You winced at the sound the door made, trying to be as quiet as possible. Facing the door as you quietly closed it; it wasn't until you turned around to head to the front door nearby that you almost screamed. There stood, in all his hot blonde hair glory, clearly ready for a morning run by his attire was the last guy you hooked up with not even a week ago.
You looked around the apartment in shock until your eyes went back to him, his initial shocked reaction from seeing your presence now turning smug as he recognised you as much as you recognised him.
"You know, I thought you dipping like that before I woke up meant you didn't want to come back?" he asked.
Rolling your eyes with a hard chew to the gum still in your mouth, you gave him a fake smile. Acting sarcastic not wanting him to know how shocked you were but nonchalant instead. The fact Seungcheol stood shirtless in front of you, giving you flashbacks of the night from a week before, was not helping.
And he knew it.
He walked towards you, locking you in between his body and his room mate's bedroom door.
"Tell me angel, was my friend better or was it me?" Your chest was heaving, inner thighs tightening together as your eyes carelessly wandered to his lips, your inner demon just wanting them back onto yours and Seungcheol did exactly that.
It wasn't sweet. It was rough, needy and eagerly full of lust. His tongue entering your mouth to swipe the gum and somehow place it in his own mouth. He wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you in as your skimpy little club skirt was now grinding on his running shorts, as your hands ravaged his fit body. The grip on your ass was your signal to jump as he carried you more into their apartment, and to their kitchen. Seungcheol laid you down on their kitchen counter, making you shudder at the coldness but his body being on top of you as you both still heavily made out kept you warm. His hands unzipping the corset top from the front leaving your breasts bare for him as his lips move from your mouth to your tits.
"So you always go to clubs without a bra on?" he teased. You could only whimper as his fingers played with your nipples licking a stripe in between your breasts to then use his huge hands to basically smoosh your tits over his face to motorboat you. Hearing his groans in between your chest, you can't help but giggle.
"What's so funny?" He asks, biting your tit as he removes his face from your chest.
"You have a thing for motor boating?" You asked, recalling him doing the same thing as he fucked you last time.
"Well, it's because these tits are perfect, just as much as this pussy is." Seungcheol explains as one of his hands creeps under your skirt and cups your pussy tightly. It made your back arch and a loud moan escape, by quick reaction you covered your mouth with your hand as you look to the side where Mingyu's door is in slight fear that you were going to get caught.
Seungcheol saw this and a low growl escape, he then pulled your skirt and underwear down in one swift motion.
"I've been thinking about how fucking good you taste all fucking week, jerked off so many fucking times thinking about your pussy." He admitted. Seungcheol knelt down, holding your wrists to pin your arms to the sides of your body as his also laid his biceps across your thighs to restrict your movement. He blew air onto your pussy and grinned seeing you squirm.
"Want you to be loud baby, wake him up to a good surprise yeah? Call me daddy like you did last time." Before you could object, Seungcheol spat the gum in his mouth to the side so he could dive in head first. He wasn't lying about the fact he wanted this, needed this.
"Oh my god!" you yelled, lifting your head up to see his eyes already watching your every reaction and that only made things hotter.
What he didn't know was you thought about his mouth all fucking week too, though your one night stand rule was to dip without any other contact. A part of you wished that you did get Seungcheol's contact, you hadn't had anyone eat you out as good as he did. Which is one of the reasons why you even went out last night to try to forget the need for Seungcheol's mouth, is it coincidence or pure fucking luck for your distraction to be his fucking room mate of all people.
Seungcheol ate you out so good that it was loud and wet, the slurps felt like it was bouncing off the walls and he was devouring like a thirst deprived man receiving his drink. His tongue was fucking magic, going from flicking your bud to entering you and drawing figure 8s on your pussy. To just full on mouth on clit.
"Oh daddy I'm so close!" you moaned out, as soon as you did that you could feel the grin. He then let go of your hands to use one of his thumbs to rub circles on your nub and used the other to vastly thrust two fingers in you. With his tongue still working his magic and the motion of his fingers, you were going crazy, basically now humping his face. He loved the desperation of your movements that he stopped using his hands, including fingering you to wrap both his arms around your thighs to pull you even more closer to his face. Wanting you to cum on his mouth and his desperate mouth only.
It was giving you deja vu the last time you two fucked and how you felt you were suffocating him but he didn't care and things have clearly not changed. Your back arched as the pit of your stomach only felt tighter, you moved your head to the side for only a split second and paused with your blurry vision seeing Mingyu now wide awake in the hallway.
But yet, your shock only lasted for a split second and his presence, knowing he was watching only made you get to your release sooner. Your eyes travelled downwards to see Mingyu's hard cock against his grey sweatpants and that was it, your hand reached into Cheol's hair as you released all over his mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to control it with how good and sweet the release felt.
You shrieked when you felt your pussy get slapped, a signal to open your eyes and quickly diverting your head back to Seungcheol who stood proudly. The look in his eyes full of ego as he tasted what was left of your cum on his lips, his eyes never leaving your face and reading you were not a bit uncomfortable at the surprise third guest.
"Really Cheol?" You hear from Mingyu.
"Don't be whining Mingyu, technically I had her first." Cheol said with a smirk.
You see Mingyu's face turn into realisation. The moans that spilled out of your mouth last night that sounded like heaven in his ears to the point it naturally made his hips thrust faster sounded oh so familiar because he jerked off (and came) to the same moans only a week before.
"But..." Seungcheol coughs, now leaning onto the counter to face Mingyu (but where your legs were to not cover your view.)
Cheol's hand reached to cup your breast, his two fingers rubbing your nipple so you didn't feel neglected. It was like to tell you, without words that he was nowhere near done with you despite not looking directly at you.
"I think she likes this predicament right now, hm?" His eyes, finally now looking at you as he pinches your nipple making your body jerk by his touch. The eye contact between you and Seungcheol heavy, like he needed to read your facial expressions and how you were feeling.
"Does this little slut like knowing that you have two hard cocks wanting you right now?" You could only whimper at the dirty talk, your pussy still wet and brain mush from how hard he ate you out. Seungcheol's hand moved from your breast to your chin, cupping your face.
"Use your words darling, say you want us both right here at the same time and we're all yours." Seungcheol explained.
You nodded fast, in the back of your brain knowing how utterly pathetic you must look but you didn't care.
"Yes! Yes! I want both of your big cocks right now, please daddy." you begged to Seungcheol, then looking at Mingyu now standing closer to the both of you. You address him. "Please sir."
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And here you were. On all fours in Seungcheol's king size bed with his mirror closet giving you a view of how you looked when your eyes adverted to the side. You looked like a mess and it was a view all three of you wanted planted in your brains forever.
Mingyu, standing on one side with his huge cock in your mouth had you using one arm to steady yourself and the other to play with his balls. His hands were in your hair to balance himself as he harshly thrusted into your mouth.
Seungcheol, standing on the other side has his large cock slamming in and out of your pussy from behind. One hand gripped your hip tightly throughout the whole fucking while the other hand would go from gripping your other hip to thrust in you roughly to slapping your ass just when he felt like it. It was loud and messy, tears ran down your face at the pleasure.
Though Mingyu was thrusting in your mouth, you made sure to swirl your tongue to give him even more pleasure. Your eyes couldn't leave the sight above you, despite it being so blurry from the tears in your eyes. Mingyu was so fucking pretty. The way his eyes scrunched but forced himself to stare at you with his mouth agape and the grip on your hair tightening to signal when your mouth did a really fucking good job.
Mingyu was fighting a war with himself. He was shutting his eyes because the pleasure was getting to him but god, did he also want to see your pretty, teary eyed face that included seeing your eyes roll back from the pleasure Seungcheol was giving you.
For Seungcheol, he loved every minute of this. He also thought Mingyu was endearing when he was getting his cock sucked, of course this wasn't their first time sharing.
With your second orgasm approaching, you felt yourself getting closer to your release before Seungcheol was even done. You wanted to release Mingyu's cock to give a warning of your orgasm but his grip on your head was so tight. You didn't have to say anything though because Seungcheol knew you were close from how much your pussy was tightly gripping his cock.
He moved both his hands back to your hips, thrusting faster and harder that his balls slapping against your ass echoed throughout the bedroom.
"I know you're close baby, give it to me, coat my cock with your cum so I can paint you white." Cheol chanted, it only made your eyes roll and Mingyu grin at the sight once again.
"Fuck she love this." Mingyu moaned out, his hand going from your hair to your face and with both hands using his thumbs to stroke your hollowed out cheeks.
"Does princess like getting creampied? Want me to cum in your next?" Mingyu questions, you nod fast in his hands.
With Cheol's brutal pace and a grip on your hips that will leave bruises, you cum hard. Your arms losing the balance of keeping you upright making your mouth leave Mingyu's cock and though he hissed at the cold air. He rather cum in your pretty pussy than your mouth anyways.
You moaned and cried onto the bed, your body spasming at the pleasure. But Cheol didn't give up despite the new position. Still thrusting into your pussy vastly as your walls clutched onto his cock, you felt so fucking wet and tight that he couldn't help himself and came right after you. In you. The feeling of his cum spurting into your gummy walls only made your body yelp more, your hands gripping onto the sheets tightly.
"Thank you daddy! Thank you!' You screamed into the bed. Making more spurts of cum from Cheol come out.
Mingyu could have came at the sight of both of you orgasming knowing he was next.
You couldn't dare lift your head up, feeling slightly humiliated and knowing the makeup from last night probably looked even more messy as your chest was heaving. Pussy twitching. But that didn't last long as you felt yourself get flipped. Your back now laying on the bed as the two men switched places without you realising, you steadying your own breath was all you heard and focused on.
Mingyu smiling widely at your shock as he softly stroked your outer thighs.
"Ready to take me princess?" He asked. With your need to be their good girl, you nodded.
"Words" Mingyu sternly said.
"Yes sir, nee-" before you could finish your sentence about needing his cock. A large shriek fell out your lips as he pulls your body closer to the edge of the bed by your legs; to wrap them around his waist.
"Sorry for surprising you baby, but I'm not sorry for this." Mingyu utters and before you could question what he meant.
He thrusted his huge cock all in, making you loudly scream. The stretch hurt but my god was it delicious. Seungcheol was huge in the sense of his length, while Mingyu was huge from his girth. Both easily stretching you in different and addictive ways.
"T-Thought Seungcheol's cock prepped you already but you're still so fucking tight. Fuck ... babe." Mingyu stutters, chants, breathless.
You don't miss the weight of the bed dip as Seungcheol now sits beside you.
You reach your hand out to stroke Seungcheol's semi-hard cock to become hard again, but he hisses and smacks your hand away.
"Did I say you could touch?" He tells off, you whimper in response.
Instead of being closer to you, he moves away until his head leans against the bed's headboard. Legs criss crossed as he began to stroke his own cock while watching you get fucked. Your eyes never leaving each other as he does this, he smiles at your pout, finding you cute as your brain whines on how this isn't fair.
Before you could further complain, Mingyu readjusts his hips that he finds the spot you needed. It makes you gasp, your attention diverting back to him as he himself wears a similar pout to you.
"Pay attention to me too baby" he complains.
"I-I'm sorry sir! You fuck me so good sir, p-please don't stop" you moan out and praise. Back arching, eyes shutting as your delicious tits are bouncing from the thrusts, both Mingyu and Seungcheol can't stop watching your chest as one strokes his cock faster while the other penetrates you faster.
You can't control it any longer, your orgasm approaching and your mouth spewing every noise your throat can make. Mingyu fucking you so good, you don't even register how tight he's holding you or how Seungcheol's moaning with you. Unable to say any words, with a scream you come once again. Mingyu nearly topples over with how your pussy grips his cock while you orgasm, knowing why Seungcheol nearly lost himself as well.
With Mingyu's hard cock still plugged into you, not moving to let you have a breather both your eyes go to Seungcheol whose cum is splattered all over his stomach. You feel drool leave your mouth and both of them snicker seeing this.
An idea sparks in Mingyu's head, he takes his cock out of your warm pussy and before you whine of the emptiness he plunges two fingers in you.
"Get on all fours baby and lick daddy's cum off" Mingyu orders, both you and Seungcheol are surprised to hear him take control for the first time throughout this ordeal.
It makes you eagerly listen and as you move, reposition yourself. Mingyu's fingers never leave you. Instead he joins kneeling on the bed behind you, once you face Seungcheol you attempt to lower your head but Mingyu grabs your hair to lift your head up. You yelp in surprise but love the delicious burn like you did when you were sucking his cock.
"Film it on the bedside table Cheol" Mingyu orders, nodding to the phone on the same table and Seungcheol smiles. You feel your pussy flutter and cheeks blush at the same time,
"Hm, I was going to ask if that's okay angel but seems like it is. Naughty girl" Mingyu announces as he kisses your back softly.
When you hear the noise of the phone camera recording, you see it on the bedside table on selfie mode perfectly capturing all three of you.
"Lick baby" Mingyu orders again and lets go of your hair, just for it to be held in a makeshift ponytail by Seungcheol. You lower your head and lick a stripe of his load on Cheol's stomach, the salty and sticky liquid on your tongue making you hum as Seungcheol watches your every move of continuously licking his body. Hissing as you casually try to take his semi-hard cock's tip after licking his cum up. His cock was sensitive but if you went to suck him off, he wouldn't object.
At the same time, Mingyu unplugs his fingers to thrust his cock back into you. The motion making your lips that were around Cheol's tip now take his cock fully and deeper into your mouth.
"Oh shit" Cheol moans out, his cock now fully hard.
You wish this overwhelming pleasure of sucking Cheol's cock and Mingyu's fast thrusts mixed with your wet and full of cum pussy would never end. You bob your mouth up and down Cheol's shaft, tongue feeling his veins.
Seungcheol knew he wasn't going to last long, his free hand not in your hair gripping the pillow beside him as he thrusted into your mouth. Now he understood Mingyu's predicament before, he couldn't describe how good you sucked cock even if he tried.
Mingyu was in the same predicament, not knowing how much longer he can hold on as your tight pussy continues to grip him from the pleasure of sucking cock and Mingyu thrusting into your pussy so deliciously.
The fact this was the fourth orgasm they were pulling out of you and so close to your third, you were close as well. But with full persistent you wanted daddy to cum first, with the one hand not steadying your position just like you did with Mingyu. You played with Cheol's balls while deep throating him. That was all it took, as his load spilled into your mouth. Despite thinking you swallowed all of it, when your mouth left his shaft. You felt liquid still around your lips and leaving your mouth like drool but the warmth and thickness of it made you realise it was his cum on your lips.
"Oh fuck" Seungcheol quietly whispered, chest still panting. He grabbed the phone off the bedside table to film your face close up, your fucked out face was both beautiful and a fucking mess.
"F-Fuck I'm close" Mingyu panted behind you, using one of his hands to start rubbing your clit to get you closer. You bite your lip, tasting the cum. Seungcheol still filming every bit of this.
"Mingyu look at the phone" Seungcheol points out, moving it to the side a bit to still capture your makeup ruined face while letting Mingyu have his view.
The sight of your pleasured out face was all it took for Mingyu, cumming in your pussy with a scream from his lips. The sensation making your own pussy spasm and cum for the fourth time, both of them had massive loads that felt like they were filling your cunt to the brim. Just like before, your arms give up on you. Head plopping onto Seungcheol's thighs as he softly strokes your hair.
Mingyu grabs the phone from Seungcheol with shaky hands, now filming from the side right next to where his cock and your pussy were as your hips were still upright. Finally unplugging his cock, you and Seungcheol watch from the phone as Mingyu watches with his own eyes how the mix of all three of your cums trickle down your thighs, drops falling onto the bedsheets.
All three of you are sweaty and tired beyond belief, you feel your own eyes drooping to a shut on Cheol's thigh not even getting to see who was cleaning the sticky mess on your legs with a towel. All you heard and felt before your slumber was a kiss on the shoulder, hair strokes and a sentence of
"Sleep baby girl, you earned it, we'll be here."
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@jakeyjakey-143z
(a/n): hellooo hellooo annyeonghaseo!!! I'm back. naked seungcheol got me all hot and bothered i couldn't help but write this. also the fact that i already knew he had a dad bod 🤨(not surprising because we literally live together) also it's my first time writing a headcanon, so I hope you like it ;)
SMUT ahead under cut!!
dad bod!seungcheol who still looks massive when he walks by. broad shoulders, heavy steps, arms that could still lift you like nothing if he tried - but there’s a softness to him now, one that’s crept in over the years. a little extra weight on his stomach, smells of baby formula, and that constant stubble because shaving every day doesn’t feel worth it anymore.
dad bod!seungcheol who complains about it sometimes, grumbling in front of the mirror while he runs a towel over his face. “need to start running again,” he mutters, or “can’t believe I used to have abs.” but you just lean against the doorframe, watching him, half-smiling because he’s still the same man - just… fuller
when he sits down, he spreads out - thighs taking space, arm slung behind the couch, posture lazy and open. you love that he doesn’t even notice how he fills a room anymore
dad bod!seungcheol who doesn’t understand why you’ve gotten clingier. why your hands always seem to find their way under his shirt when you hug him from behind, why you keep brushing crumbs off his chest when there are no crumbs, why your lips always linger a second too long when you kiss him goodbye
dad bod!seungcheol who still still wakes up before everyone else, shuffling around the kitchen shirtless, hair a mess, making coffee like it’s a ritual. you watch him from the doorway - all broad shoulders, soft stomach, stubble catching the morning light - and suddenly you’re way too awake.
dad bod!seungcheol who just mere minutes later, is now a moaning mess as you suck him as if your life depends on it.
"fu-uck," he pants, "slow down, babe." but the way he holds your head even tighter, says otherwise.
"can't!" you pant, taking him out of your mouth. "you get me all hot and bothered." he swears he could come right then and there and with that look in his eyes - he'd give you another child already.
"fuck me, baby." you moan, and he's trembling, barely holding onto the edge.
dad bod!seungcheol who grips your hips so hard, you're sure they're will be marks by the time you're done.
he wraps his arms around you, pushes you onto the wall and thrusts up into you - heavy balls smacking against your ass. the whines that comes out of your mouth is just pitiful.
he pinches your clit and your walls clench him tighter.
"fuck baby, you're so tight" he huffs. "you want to make me a dad again? huh?"
“cheol- slo- ugh. slow down” you pant as your legs shake every time his tip brushes your spot. the way his large, bulbous tip was brushing against your very inner walls had you dizzy. “-want more.”
"I'll give you exactly what you want, mama"
you moan so loud that the whole damn block might know exactly what he’s doing to you.
"not so loud, mama. baby'll wake up" seungcheol is grinning.
"mhmm, cheol." you breathe, gripping his biceps harder. "feels so good."
your fingers dig into his shoulders, velvet walls clenching around him as your body shook violently, thighs quaking as pleasure surged through your veins.
“fuck, cheol - ohh fuck ‘m gonna cum!” your legs feel like liquid - you are glad he's holding you - otherwise you'd be as good as putty.
“thaaat’s it, mama. come f’me.” he groaned, pushing in with a few more punishing thrusts before spilling inside your spasming cunt, thick, hot ropes of cum filling you to the brim.
he’s holding you flush against him, fingers pressing into your back, thumb tracing along your jaw. “god…you really are relentless,” he huffs, voice low, teasing but strained.
you grin, smirking up at him. “can you blame me?” his chest rises with a laugh. "hmm…nope,” he murmurs, lips grazing your temple. “not at all. and I think…I like it.” you trace over his shoulders, leaning closer, feeling the weight of him, the warmth, the lingering tension.
“good,” you whisper. “because I’m not stopping anytime soon.”
synopsis ➳ you see him at a dodgers game and for you it is game over. except, it looks like he isn't interested in you. however, the chemistry between you says otherwise.
pairing ➳ dilf!s.coups x fem!reader
genre ➳ strangers to lovers, age gap romance, smut.
word count ➳ 8.2k + 1.1k (bonus)
warnings ➳ mdni, age gap!!! (9yrs), slightly toxic dynamics, cheol is an absolute gentleman in the first half and a monster (in bed) in the second, reader is horny af, sexual tension/frustration, possessiveness, messy makeouts, unprotected sex, male oral and ofc big dick cheol, gagging, crying, pussy slapping, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, nasty sex in general bruh.
a/n: those pics of cheol at the LA Dodgers game did something to me. and to be fair, cheol isn't actually a dilf here (you'll find out). also, if age gap is not your cup of tea, DO NOT INTERACT!
I think I need someone older
Just a little bit colder
Take the weight off his shoulders
The crowd is quite suffocating.
You have to find your way through a throng of people, mostly men dressed in jerseys and holding beers, to get to the VIP seating area. Jeanie, your friend, leads the way, and you follow her tail, careful not to bump into anyone and spill your drink.
This is really not your scene.
You don't like noisy places. You don't like crowds. You don't like sports.
So what are you doing here?
Two weeks ago, you broke up with your boyfriend. It was nothing dramatic. In fact, you saw it coming. Your relationship mellowed out a long time ago, not that it was very heated in the first place, and frankly, the breakup was a relief.
It was like you finally got rid of a dead weight.
But for some reason, Jeanie, one of your closest friends, had this impression that you were depressed and having a pity party by yourself in your apartment, which you were not; you were doing a deep clean to prepare for the upcoming fall. Hence, she has dragged you out here, to a LA Dodgers game, to change the scenery and add some joy in your life.
You and your friend have truly different definitions of joy. She has been an extrovert since the time you met her in college. You, on the other hand, preferred to be by yourself.
Jeanie nudges your shoulder with hers as you two take your seats. “Lighten up, girl. Have some fun! We got these VIP seats for free!”
Right. Jeanie is friends with an influencer who gave her these tickets because she couldn’t come because of some last minute trip to a fancy Caribbean island.
You take a sip of your chilled drink and murmur. “I’m trying. You know this is not my scene.”
“A change of scenery is always good.” She announces before taking a look around in the VIP seating area. “Plus, this place is full of hot, rich guys.”
“Rich? Sure. I don’t see any hot guys, though.” You comment drily. “I am going to stay for half an hour and then leave. You know I have to make a pitch on Monday. I need to work on my presentation.”
“Can you not think about work for two seconds?” Jeanie rolls her eyes.
“Alright, fine. I’ll pretend to be very interested in the game for your sake.” You huff playfully, and your friend smiles, wrapping an arm around you. She and her fiancé watch these games regularly, and you know for a fact that if he were not out of town right now, she would not have dragged you here, and you could be finishing up with work early and end the day soaking in a bubble bath.
Yeah, that would be nice.
A man walking by catches your attention randomly. He is dressed in a grey hoodie and grey sweatpants with a cap on his head, his pace leisurely as he strolls down the stairs to take a seat in the front row. Nothing about his clothes is flashy or exceptional, but still, he stands out and your eyes follow him. As he walks past you, you get a glimpse of his face: fair skin with dark, thick eyebrows, unfairly beautiful eyes and a plump set of lips. Silently, you observe him sit down next to a man and a moment later, take a toddler out of the man’s lap to put the child on his.
Is he a father? Damn, spotting an attractive dilf was not on your bucket list.
The game starts momentarily, disrupting your thoughts as music and cheers erupt throughout the stadium. You try your best to enjoy the game before resigning yourself to sipping your beer and scrolling through your phone while occasionally taking peeks at the front row.
You don’t get to see much except the man’s back as he keeps playing with the very enthusiastic child, clapping and squealing while the man beside them takes pictures of them.
Time ticks by. Your beer finishes. You help Jeanie take some pictures before posing for some selfies with her. And then, something happens that gets you the attention of the hot man in the front row.
The child you saw earlier with him was climbing the stairs, his little wobbly feet tackling one step at a time as he held a cup of orange juice comically large for his little hands. Just as he was wobbling past your seat, he lost his balance, and some of the juice spilt out of the cup and onto the bottom of your jeans.
The two men who were a few steps behind come running as the dilf immediately picks up the kid with an admonishing look. The taller man next to him looks in your direction, muttering an apology. The father, you assume, orders, “Mingyu, go grab some napkins for the lady.”
“No, it’s—” You stand up to protest, but the man—Mingyu—dashes away to get some tissues for you. “It’s okay. It was an accident.” You offer softly as the man admonishes the child, who looks at you with large doe eyes.
“Ethan, say sorry to her.” He tells the kid who squirms to get out of his father's hold and onto the ground. “I am sorry, miss.” The kid says sweetly, bowing his head almost so far ahead that he loses his footing.
“Oh, no. It is alright, Ethan.” You softly pat his head. “You are a big, strong boy, carrying the cup by yourself!” Ethan smiles at your words, his little teeth peeking.
Mingyu returns with the napkins and hands them to you before picking Ethan up and taking him away, climbing up the stairs. You dab the spot on your jeans with the napkin, hyperaware of the dilf’s eyes on you. Oddly, you are too shy to look him in the eye, as if he can see all your thoughts about him in them.
“Allow me to pay for the dry cleaning.” He offers.
“Oh, no!” You refuse, embarrassed. “The stain is not that strong. It will wash away.”
“I insist. Please give me your number so that I can send the money.” He is adamant, and with no other option, you fish out your business card from your purse and hand it to him.
He takes a look at it before putting it in his pocket. An awkward moment of silence passes by as you finish wiping the stain and stand back up. “Your son is very cute.” You attempt to make a conversation.
“Oh,” he shakes his head with a chuckle. “That’s my nephew.”
Your ears perk up at his words.
“My sister-in-law had a dentist appointment, and so we brought him with us. He really loves my friend, Mingyu. Sometimes I think he loves him more than me.” He explains casually, a fond look on his face.
“I see.” You take a moment to scan him, half unconsciously. He is right there in front of you, and it is almost impossible not to drink him up. Despite wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, there is something about him that screams luxury. Maybe it is the way he walks and talks, at ease yet authoritative, like he owns the place, or maybe, you realize, it's the Rolex sitting on his wrist, thick and heavy.
You are so busy staring at him that it takes a long moment for you to realize he is staring at you staring at him. He is the first one to break the silence, saving you from further embarrassment. “Let me take a guess. This really isn’t your scene.” He waves his hand around.
A soft burst of laughter comes out of your mouth. “Is it that obvious?”
“It kind of is.” He smirks, his deep brown eyes twinkling with something unreadable, and your stomach starts doing backflips. You have to take a step back and grab onto the backrest of the seat to make sure you don’t fall.
“My ideal weekend is sleeping in and ordering takeout.” You shrug.
“That has its own appeal, I must agree.”
“Yeah…” you trail off, unable to hold eye contact with him any longer. Your heart is racing inhumanely fast in your chest, and you are half worried that you are getting a heart attack. For God’s sake, that’s a fucking stranger and for sure, someone’s boyfriend or husband, though you don’t see a ring. You cannot be drooling over him like that.
You need to get laid.
“Well, it was lovely talking to you. We are gonna head out now.” He stands straighter, fixing his cap, his blonde hair peeking from the sides. “I am once again, really sorry about that,” he motions to your jeans. “I’ll send you the money.”
“You really don’t have to.” You object, watching him climb up the stairs.
“Don’t worry about that.” He shakes his head before turning to look at you. “Have a nice day.”
“You too.” Chewing on your lower lip, you watch the absolute hunk of a man walk away. With a heavy sigh, when you turn back around, you find Jeanie looking at you with the evilest of smiles, like a cat that ate the canary.
“Ugh, please,” you huff, hiding your face, making an attempt to leave. “Let me go, I need to pee!”
“Mhmm,” she hums, wrapping her arms around you and dragging to down next to her. “What was all that, huh? You were practically eye fucking him. And giving him your number, my god, girl!”
“Ugh, shut up! He asked for it.”
“Mhmm, I’m sure he will be asking for a lot more things soon when he gives you a booty call.”
You roll your eyes, shoving Jeanie’s face away from yours. Inside, the idea of him calling you does make your stomach flutter more than it should.
You should get a check-up done. And get laid.
—
You do not get a call from him. Instead, the next morning, after you wake up, you find the money sent to your number along with a message that says,
Sorry for the trouble once again. — Choi Seungcheol
Choi Seungcheol. The name rolls off your tongue nicely as you keep gazing at your mobile screen, dumbfounded at the amount he sent you. No dry cleaning costs that much, and you debate a while with yourself, wondering whether you should call him, send him a text, or send some of the money back.
Hoping that he may text you for a follow-up, you get on your day, preparing to get ready for work. The day, however, comes to an end with no response from him. Not a text or a call checking if you have received the money. Finally, at night when you are in bed, you decide to text him.
Hi. It’s ___ from the game yesterday.
Five minutes later, your phone starts ringing. It is Seungcheol.
“Hello?” You half whisper, your voice suddenly catching in your throat.
“Hi.” His voice is deeper on the phone. “Sorry, I am too tired to text, so I just called you. I hope that is okay?”
“No, it’s completely fine.” You hurry. “It’s my fault for calling you this late. I’m sorry for disturbing.”
“Don’t worry about that. I just had a long day at work. But anyway, how can I help you?”
“Umh,” you take a moment to oragnize your thoughts. “I wanted to say thank you for sending the money. I really appreciate it, but the amount is much more than necessary.”
“It’s okay. You could use that to buy a pair if the stain does not come off.”
“And still I would be left with enough to grab dinner.” You joke.
“You love takeouts, right? So why not?” He hums from the other side. He remembers. You smile, chewing on your lower lip. And then, an idea pops into your head.
“I have a better idea. Let me treat you to dinner.” You state, and then squeeze your eyes shut as you hold your breath waiting for his reply.
“Why?” he sounds confused.
“Just as a token of gratitude.” You reply, still holding your breath. The line stays silent for a few seconds, and just as you start thinking you will get rejected, he answers. “Sure. When is a good time for you?”
You have to hold back a squeal. “This Friday?”
“Works for me.”
“Great!” You quip, trying not to sound too excited. “See you then!”
“Have a good night, ___.”
—
The week could not have been slower. By the time Friday rolls around, you are bone tired from all the work that came along with the new merger of your company. Still, you manage to leave work a little early and have a shower before getting ready. Seungcheol let you choose the restaurant, and you decided to go to a sleek Italian restaurant tucked away on the upscale side of town.
By the time you get into your Uber, Seungcheol texts you, stating that he is already there. Thankfully, there is not a lot of traffic, so you do not keep him waiting for long.
You find him seated at a couple’s table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows, sipping on a glass of wine as he talks to someone over the phone. He is quick to spot you, however, and as soon as he sees you, he hangs up the phone, stands up, and pulls your chair out for you.
“Hi,” You murmur, voice breathy as you come to a stand in front of him. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” You let your eyes wander all over him, and boy, does he look good—black formal shirt with black pants and a nice watch. He looks effortlessly hot, especially the way a bit of his skin peeks through the top unbuttoned space of his shirt and the way his arms flex, the veins shining in the warm light because of his rolled-up sleeves, and the way the fabric of the shirt remains tight against his solid, hard chest.
You feel like a Victorian man laying his eyes upon a woman’s ankles.
“No worries at all,” he ushers you to sit down. “I took the liberty of ordering us some appetizers and a bottle of wine. I hope you do not mind.”
“Not at all,” you reply bashfully as you sit down, and he goes back to his chair. “I am actually quite hungry. I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”
“Why?”
“Oh, work has been crazy.” You sigh.
“Hm,” he nods softly. “I heard your company is going through a merger currently.”
Swallowing a gulp of water, you look at him, impressed. “Looks like you stay updated.”
He chuckles, with a subtle shake of his head, his hand reaching out for your goblet to pour you some wine.
“I googled you, by the way.” You announce with a cheeky smile. The man raises a thick eyebrow, and involuntarily, you press your thighs together underneath the table. Setting the bottle of wine down, he leans back in his chair and softly rubs his index fingers across his chin. “Oh really?”
“I was really curious.” You explain, reaching for the wine. “Turns out you are a record label owner.”
“Yeah, it is nothing special.” He waves a hand dismissively. You roll your eyes and lean closer to him, your elbows resting on the table. “Are you serious? Literally Woozi—the Woozi is your artist. That’s insane!”
“You are a fan, I assume?”
“I am. I really like his songs.” You nod.
You are interrupted for a moment as the appetizers come alongside another server, who takes the orders for your main course. Once they are gone, Seungcheol serves you each of the dishes while saying. “I will see if I can get you an autograph.”
Quietly, you watch him load up your plate and set it down in front of you before serving himself. His thoughtful gesture gives butterflies in your stomach, and you murmur a shy “thank you”, hoping he understood that it was not because he said he would get you Woozi’s autograph.
“But enough talking about an old man like me.” He says, taking a bite of his food. “I would much rather hear about you.”
His words leave you flustered, especially as he keeps his gaze on you, his eyes unwavering. You supply information about your family, friends, and work between mouthfuls, surprised at how attentively he listens and asks thoughtful but not intrusive questions. The main course comes, and your conversations keep flowing smoothly, from your life to your hobbies to his and then to his nephew Ethan. The chemistry between the two of you is undeniable, at least that is what you think, but you have no way of knowing what is going on in his mind. He never crosses any lines or makes any attempt to touch or flirt with you, and by the time dessert is over, in the back of your mind, you are questioning yourself.
What does he think of you? A friend? A clingy young girl who was desperate to have dinner with him?
You are so lost in your head that when the bill is set down on the table, Seungcheol is the one to grab it, exceptionally fast at that, and you watch him with an open mouth.
“Hey!” You attempt to snatch the bill out of his hands but fail miserably as he simply puts his black card inside and hands it back to the waiter. “I was supposed to pay!”
“I know,” his voice is soft as a feather. “But I had a lovely evening today, and trust me when I say that it is my absolute pleasure to cover the bill.”
His tone, paired with the most sincere look in his eyes, leaves you at a loss for words, and you don’t know what to say, too busy trying to calm your racing heart. You manage to utter a soft “thank you,” and he returns it with a warm smile and a sincere “welcome.”
God damn it, this man is so perfect. The date is coming to an end, and you have no idea where you stand and what you should do to figure that out. With your head clouded in worries, you follow him out.
—
The drive goes by in relative silence, and you are at your place too quickly to your liking. Seungcheol gets out of the car to walk you to the front of your apartment complex while his driver parks the car.
“Well then, I hope you had a great time tonight.” He offers a smile as you stand in front of the entrance to your building. “I did.” You nod, hoping your voice conveys your sincerity. “It would have been greater if you let me pay, but—”
“Don’t mention it.” He cuts you off with a cheeky smile.
“Thanks again. For the dinner and for dropping me home.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” His smile is warm. “I’ll leave after you go inside.” He states and extends his hand as a polite way of urging you in. “Right, um, goodnight.” You rush, hastily turning around as your mind races with endless thoughts.
Will you see him again? He did not mention any other meeting, so that seems highly unlikely. You have his number, but can you call him? Should you call him? Would he call you?
Four steps in, you stop and turn back around. “Seungcheol?”
“Hm?”
“Would you like to date me?” You blurt out, marvelling at the steadiness of your voice as you lay all your cards out on the table.
The man in front of you blinks, once, twice, thrice and then keeps staring at you with the flattest yet most expressive face of surprise. The silence is suffocating, but you refuse to speak, worried you would embarrass yourself. After a long moment, he replies. “I don’t think it is a good idea.”
Wow.
You should say, “understandable, have a nice day,” and take your leave, but you cannot resist asking, “Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He pauses. “I am much older than you.”
Wait, that is why?
“Seriously?” You have to resist rolling your eyes.
He seems surprised at your attitude. “I am almost ten years older than you, if my assumption is correct. That is a pretty big issue. Trust me, you would not want to date someone like me.”
You frown. “I don’t like how you are telling me what I should and should not want.”
He sighs, shaking his head. “That is not what I meant. Our worlds are too different. I’m not telling you how you should feel, I am just warning you.”
Your fingernails dig into your palms, which are clenched into fists. You stare at him, hard and unblinking, trying to gather your thoughts. He looks apologetic, his sharp eyes soft and guilty, and it only angers you.
“I understand,” you nod, your voice quiet. “Thank you for today. I hope you get home safely. Goodbye, Seungcheol.”
With that, you march into your apartment building.
—
“I am telling you, he was the perfect man until he started warning me about how it would not work.” You huff, your phone pressed to your ear as you arrange all the papers laid out on your desk.
“I mean, I saw that guy, right?” Jeanie continues. “Physically, he is like an eleven out of ten. And from the way you describe his mannerisms, he is like a complete gentleman.”
“Right?” You cry, shoving all the papers in a drawer of your cubicle.
Normally, you don’t waste time worrying about your personal affairs at the workplace. This, however, is an exception. Jeanie was gone for a trip with her fiancé during the weekend, and you had to prepare for the upcoming company gala as well, so you spent the last two days glued to your laptop, drowning your pain in work and coffee.
“But you know, I kinda like how he turned you down. I mean, at least he is not a weirdo who jumps at the offer of getting into a young girl's pants, right? If Google is correct and he is 35 years old, that means he is a good nine years older than you. I am just surprised that he understood the problems of this dynamic.”
“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes, slumping down on your chair. “Can you stop taking his side? He is so annoying. I wish I could just delete that guy from my mind.”
“Right, like that Kate Winslet movie.”
“Exactly,” you pause, noticing your boss coming towards your cubicle. “I’ll call you later.”
“Someone is worked up early in the morning,” Linda saunters over and leans against your cubicle. “And I know it is not work that has you stressed. So what is it?”
“I just um…” Got dumped by a hot dilf who is rich as fuck and hot as fuck and actually has a conscience. “It’s nothing.” You force a smile. "Just some personal stuff.”
“Mhm.” She hums. “If it’s a man, don’t worry too much. The right one will find his way to you.”
“Yeah,” you give her an awkward smile. Linda grins before turning on her heel, “Alright then. Conference room, five minutes. Bring those reports from the last quarter.”
—
It is the night of the gala.
This is by far Linda’s most ambitious project, throwing a party on this huge scale. The preparations leading up to this were absolutely crazy, and you have never seen everyone work so hard in your three years at this company, meticulously going through everything from the decorations to the guest list, which included every big name from CEOs to actors.
As the guests pour in, you walk behind Linda as her shadow, carrying an iPad in your hand as you tackle one guest after another, welcoming them and then moving on to the next. Halfway through, you feel your feet getting numb, and you wish you were at home dressed in your pajamas, eating takeout instead of being here, dressed in a satin gown and high heels, after working like a dog all week.
However, you soon realize things are going to get much worse for you. As Linda chats with a few investors, you spot Seungcheol, Choi Seungcheol, standing a few feet away, talking to a few other men with a smile on his face. You shift on your feet, trying to get a good look and make sure it is indeed him.
Yes, it is. Dressed in a navy blue three-piece suit, he looks like a million bucks and a flashing sign of your embarrassing history. As soon as Linda is done talking to her guests, you pull her away and whisper-yell, “Why is Choi Seungcheol here?”
“What do you mean? He was on the guest list.”
“I know but why is he here?”
Linda blinks, registering your words. She whips her head around, whispering, “Holy shit, he is here. He has never attended these parties…ever!”
“Exactly!” You hiss.
“This really is our lucky year,” Linda murmurs before heading towards him in determined strides. “No!” You yelp softly, shifting left and right, thinking of a way to escape, knowing very well that there is none. With your head down, you trail after her, standing behind her to avoid making eye contact. After a brief chat, your boss introduces you to Seungcheol, forcing you to look at him.
His eyes lock with yours, and you freeze, panicking. Should you pretend not to know him? He saves you from the trouble and, shockingly, says, “Yes, I know her.”
Your boss is surprised. “Really? How?”
Oh fuck. “Um…” your voice catches in your throat, but he takes the lead. “We met at a Dodgers game a couple of weeks ago. My nephew spilled juice over her, so it was a whole thing.” He chuckles, playing it off, and you nod, smiling along.
Your boss laughs, saying something to him, but you zone out, too caught up with what just happened. He could have pretended not to know you. What was even the point of sharing all that? Now you cannot even ignore him without looking suspicious because you are supposed to know each other.
Can you not catch a break?
Linda is suddenly called away by a couple of people, and she leaves you with Seungcheol, saying, “Keep him company, will you?” With a squeeze on your shoulder, she is gone. You don't dare to turn around and look at him, thinking about ways to smoothly run away, but he stops those thoughts immediately by grabbing your wrist and spinning you around to face him.
Holy shit. He is too close to you. So close that you smell his cologne, feel his breath on your skin. Your breath stutters. “What are you doing?”
“I have been wanting to talk to you all evening.” He says, his voice soft, his gaze devoted to your face. Your body aflame, you manage to free his grip on your waist. “Okay, what can I help you with?”
“Let’s talk somewhere private.”
“I cannot. I am working.”
“10 minutes.”
“I am busy, Seungcheol. My boss is the host of this party.”
“5 minutes.”
You bite your lower lip, your train of thought scattering as your eyes fall on his lips. “After dinner.” You manage to whisper, eyes still glued to his lips. You know he is looking at you, but you find it much harder to meet his eyes than being caught ogling him.
“You look very beautiful.” He murmurs close to your ear. You swallow, your fingers clenching the device. Why is he behaving like this? One moment, he is cold, and the next, he is all up against you, whispering things in your ear. His behaviour utterly confuses you, and you cannot help but think he is playing with you.
“Enjoy the party, Mr. Choi,” you state, turning away immediately, your heart galloping like a racehorse in your chest.
—
You have dinner at the same table. He sits right next to you, facing Linda and a few other important guests. It is stifling, being so close to him, and so dinner goes by in a blur for you. All the food tastes the same, and you have a hard time digesting everything, too wired at the reminder that you will see him alone later.
That moment comes in a flash, as the dessert plates are cleared away and the guest starts leaving the tables. You stand up, hoping to get a moment by yourself at the ladies' room, but Seungcheol springs up immediately.
“Is it okay if I steal ___ now?” He asks Linda without any hesitation the moment dinner is over. His hand is casually against the small of your back, ready to whisk you away as you stand by his side, tense. Linda looks at him and then you, and you see a knowing smile bloom on her lips. She probably thinks you are sleeping with him.
Ugh. You want to dig a hole and stay inside forever.
“Of course. I had her work a lot the entire night. She is all yours now, Seungcheol.” She assures, and you don’t miss the loadedness in her voice. As Seungcheol ushers you away, Linda winks at you, and you stare at her until she is out of sight, utterly gobsmacked. In silence, Seungcheol leads you towards the elevators.
“Where are we going?” You peer at him in perplexity as the doors close and he presses the button to the basement.
“Home.” He replies decidedly, leaving you stunned. Half dazed in shock, you follow him into his BMW, quietly taking a seat in the passenger seat. He is quick to strap himself in and start the engine, pulling out of the parking with a deep rumble of the engine.
“I’m sure the irony is not lost on you.” You comment, your eyes trained on the window, still marvelling at the ludicrous events of the evening. The universe is out to test you tonight.
“Huh?” He glances at you.
“Mr. Choi, the last time we met, we had dinner, and after that, I asked if I could date you. Do you remember what your reply was?” You turn your head and direct your gaze at him, your eyes narrowed and sharp, matching the bite in your voice. The man next to you remains silent, clenching his jaw.
You continue. “You said I was too young for you. And now, a week later, you—the man who rarely attends any parties—show up to my company’s gala and, without explanation, kidnap me.”
“I did not kidnap you.” He clarifies.
“Ugh,” you close your eyes shut, rubbing your temples. “What is it that you want, Mr. Choi?” You finally breathe out a long sigh.
“First of all,” he glances at you, his gaze stern, “stop calling me that. You never called me that.”
“Well, the only relationship we have now is professional.” You quip, crossing your arms and looking out the window.
“Whatever,” he huffs, his tone impatient. “Don’t call me that.”
Silence.
The SUV carries on through the sparse streets, the night sky drifting by overhead.
“And, I regret what I said that night.” He adds after a pause.
You shift, turning your head back to look at him. His face stays unreadable, eyes focused ahead on the street. You swallow a sudden lump in your throat, staring at him for a few moments, watching the city lights reflect on his handsome face. “I don’t believe that,” you mutter, your voice much softer than before, focusing your eyes out of the window.
“I understand. I hope I can change your mind.” He says, his voice tender, but you choose not to reply. The scenery shifts as you slip into the richer side of the town, sleek towers rising overhead, tall and glittering, the wide roads stretched out in hushed emptiness. A couple of minutes later, he pulls into the underground parking of a sleek skyscraper, the security gates parting smoothly at his pass, and parks the BMW in his assigned spot.
Quickly, he gets out of the car and jogs over to hold your door open for you as you gather your purse and fix the strap of your heels. Then, you silently follow him to the elevator, which takes you all the way to the penthouse, the doors opening to reveal a grand foyer. The place is dusted in brown, cream, grey and black, tasteful and meticulously chosen pieces that sit in perfect harmony. You are drawn to the beautiful grand piano placed by the floor-to-ceiling windows, and as Seungcheol fixes him a drink, you walk over to the instrument, tracing your fingertips on the shiny surface.
“Would you like something to drink?” He calls.
“Just water,” you reply, slowly padding over to the windows, admiring the breathtaking view of the city skyline.
A moment later, he returns, placing your mug of water on the coffee table with a soft thud, his whiskey in his left hand as he walks towards the end of the foyer and to some other part of the huge apartment. He returns a couple of minutes later, carrying something with him.
“Here you go.” He holds out his hand to you. It is a physical album of Woozi’s latest release, his autograph scrawled over the cover, directed to you. Seungcheol sits down next to you on the couch and takes a sip of his drink, “Got it signed for you a couple of days ago.”
You hold the album in your hands, trying not to appear too gleeful. “That is really kind of you, but I don’t think I can accept this.”
“You always have a hard time accepting gifts from me.” He states matter-of-factly, his eyes laser-focused on you. You sigh. “Because we never had a relationship where it could be easy or normal,” you reply, setting the album down and taking a sip.
“Right,” he murmurs and then empties the glass of whiskey before setting it on the coffee table. “Would you like a tour?”
You look at him for a moment. “Why am I here, Seungcheol?”
He exhales a loud breath, running his hands through his spiky blond hair and staring at the ground. “I…I’m sorry. I was being avoidant. I wanted to apologize for my behaviour that night and…I wanted to talk to you.”
You sit back on the couch, shifting your body to better face him. “Go ahead then.”
“God,” he groans, sitting up and looking at you. “I don’t know how to do this without sounding weird…but I regret letting you go that night.”
You snort sarcastically. “What made you change your mind? Suddenly you found me attractive?”
His gaze shifts, his eyes suddenly becoming darker. “You have misunderstood me. I thought you were attractive the moment I laid eyes on you.”
His words set your heart on fire, but you keep your guard up. “Well, you never expressed that. That night, during dinner, I really thought you would make a move because I kept dropping hints, but you were so…polite and professional and distant.”
“I was holding myself back.” He whispers, his eyes set on you at an intensity that gives you goosebumps.
“From what?”
“From this. I thought I could forget you. Ignore my feelings for you, but I cannot, and I hate myself for it.”
You frown, “Is being attracted to me that bad?”
He smirks, shaking his head as he unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt. “If you could read my mind, you would hate me too.” He pauses, setting his eyes on you once more. Involuntarily, your toes curl and your stomach dips and suddenly, the air is too thick to breathe in. “The things I want to do to you…I know for a fact you have never dated someone like me, and that is a good thing. You know why?”
“Why?” Your voice is feather light. He leans closer to you, “Because I am very, very possessive. Especially about the things I like. But you know what the real danger was? The way you looked at me that day in the stadium and the way you are looking at me now.”
“Which is?” You croak.
“Like you want me to rip your clothes off and fuck you right here. It drives me insane...the way you keep eye-fucking me.”
Yeah, you might have had an orgasm just from his words. Also, it looks like you were not so subtle after all.
You look away, your face flushed with heat, sweat beading on your temples. Seungcheol’s arm reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek to force your eyes back on him. “I know for a fact that you want me and god, do I want you. I want to do a lot of things to you, and when I remember how older I am compared—”
“I like older guys.” You speak without thinking. He pauses, the look in his eyes shifting into something more feral. You add, “Believe it or not, you are my ideal type. A DILF.”
He blinks, “DILF?”
A chuckle slips past your lips. Right, he would not know that. “Daddy-I-would-like-to-fuck.”
He throws his head back and laughs, easing the tension in the air. “See? This is why I said no to you. Our worlds are too different. I am too old for you.”
Feeling much more at ease with yourself, you scoot closer to him, pressing your body against his and putting a hand on his. “I think you would be perfect for me. Besides, we won’t know if we don’t try. If it doesn’t work, then it doesn’t.”
His eyes are dark and sincere when he whispers, “I don’t think I could ever let you go.”
Your stomach does backflips, and you have to hold back a grin. “Good. That makes the two of us.” Craning your head upwards, you slowly let your eyes fall closed, murmuring, “Will you kiss me now?”
His lips are on yours immediately. He shoves his tongue inside you, tasting your mouth like a starved man while his hands envelop your body, feeling every inch of your skin. The warmth from his body and the movement of his lips against yours blankets you in an addictive sense of comfort and desire—like you always belonged here. Your body submits, relaxing against his as you let yourself feel every bit of the sensations. When he pulls away, the space between the two of you charges with tension, the heat increasing with the way his eyes bore into yours.
“I wanted to do that since this evening.” He breathes, his voice gruff.
“Just this evening?” You tease, catching your breath. Your lips are swollen, his bruising kiss lingering on your lips as you unconsciously lick them, trapped in the dark pools of his eyes. With a huff, he stands up and suddenly picks you up in his arms, carrying you away towards the bedroom. “You will get the tour later,” he announces, as you cling onto him, mortified at how easily he is carrying you in his arms.
He takes you to his bedroom, setting you down on the bed with a soft thump and quickly works on undoing his shirt. The view is a feast for your eyes as you unashamedly drink him in, letting your eyes slowly trail over his abs, his unbelievably broad chest and even broader shoulders.
Girl dinner or whatever they call it.
Left only in his boxers, he climbs on the bed, his hands reaching for you, his fingers tracing your back before pulling down the zipper of your dress. While his fingers do their job, his lips find yours, kissing and sucking, his tongue intertwined with yours, swallowing your moans. Your fingers grip his bicep, feeling the muscles flex underneath your skin, and you have to press your thighs together, trying to ignore the discomfort of your panties sticking to your skin.
Seungcheol helps you take off the dress, leaving you in your bra and panties only as goosebumps break onto your skin. Once again, you reconnect your lips to his, your hands pulling down his boxers while he undoes your bra. Shamelessly, you cup his length in your hands, your fingers tracing over the soft skin before giving it a few slow, deliberate strokes. The man groans against your lips and the sound goes straight between your legs, giving you an idea.
“I want to suck you off.” You announce, pulling back from his lips, your hazy eyes matching his.
“What?” He blinks. You get to work, gently pushing him off the bed until he is on his feet, kicking away his boxers, and then you are on your knees in front of him. He is thick, girthy and hard and as intimidating as it looks, you cannot wait to have it inside you, both in your mouth and your pussy.
“Fuck,” you hear him curse under his breath, his hands snaking around your head to remove the hairs from your face and hold them back. With a determined exhale, your tongue darts out, giving his tip a kittenish lick before sucking the tip of his cock.
Seungcheol throws back his head in a loud groan. Fueled by his reaction, you keep on going, taking deeper in your mouth, your tongue swirling around his member. His grip on your hair tightens as you continue sucking, covering more of his length, adding an inch bit by bit to get used to the feeling of him in your mouth. Soon, he starts to thrust in and out of your mouth in shallow movements, your hands coming to rest on his hips to balance yourself.
“Fuck, you look so hot like this,” he pants, his eyes trained on your face, your swollen, spit-coated lips wrapped around his length as you look up at him with doe eyes. “You are going to drive me insane, fuck.” He grunts, increasing his pace, his thick length going deeper and making you gag, the filthy sound of him hitting the back of your throat, his length slick with saliva and pre cum echoing through the otherwise quiet room. The heat between your legs is almost too much to bear, the thought of him buried inside you driving you wild, making you press your thighs together to ease the ache.
“You need to stop, baby.” Seungcheol pants, his grip on you fastening. “I need to fuck you right now. The only place I will be cumming is your tight pussy.
Oh god. You take your mouth off his length, inhaling large gulps of air as he places you back on the bed. Pushing you down, he peels off your panties, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flash seeing the wet spot in the fabric. Empowered by his reaction, you give him a seductive smile and open your legs wide, giving him an unrestricted view. “Well then, hurry up, old man.”
His jaw tightens, matching his grip on your thighs. “I swear to god, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Promises, promises.” You tease, biting your lip. “I did not know you were such a brat. Looks like I have to teach you a lesson.” He murmurs and then lands a slap right on your clit.
“Fuck!” You fall back on the bed, the slap ringing through your entire nervous system, your body twitching. “You like that, little brat?” He lands another, much harder slap on your clit, and you swear you see stars. Tears bead in your eyes, your toes curling, and your body arching off the bed as you moan louder and louder. He gives you a few more slaps, each one stronger than the last, blurring your mind with an addictive combination of pain and pleasure so intense, it is unlike anything you have ever felt before. By the time he stops, you are out of breath and motionless on the ground, a drop of tear rolling down your eye as you stare at the ceiling and pant.
Smirking at your state, he climbs on top of you and grabs your wrists, pins them above your head. Lazily, he whispers in your ear, “If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna be a good girl. Is that clear?” You answer him with a slow nod, but he isn’t satisfied as he lands a sudden slap on your breast this time, making you squeal. “Yes. I’m sorry!” You heave for breaths, pussy throbbing from his rough treatment.
“Good girl,” he praises, placing a soft kiss on your cheek before lining his cock up to your entrance, intense eyes watching you as he whispers, “Take a deep breath, baby.” You nod as you feel him entering you, his girth taking up every inch of space inside you. Your jaw hangs loose as he keeps going deeper, making you feel like you're on the brink of exploding. A tinge of pain and a lot more pleasure surge through you, but what steals most of your focus is how incredibly full you feel.
“Fuck, you are going to be the death of me,” he hisses, gritting his teeth as he keeps pushing inside steadily, and you wonder just how big his cock is when it finally stops. Pausing for a moment, he pulls back slowly until his tip rests inside you, and then he thrusts so hard that you scream out loud as he hits that spot inside you. “Fucking hell, you are so tight.” He pants, his warm breath hitting the side of your face. His grip on your wrists loosens, and you use that to free your hands and bring them around his body, pulling him closer and closer to you.
“Shit,” you shudder, head full of bliss as your mouth hangs open in pleasure. The ethereal sight of him on top of you, sweaty, full of desire and determination, has you clenching around him. You wrap your arms tightly around his back, your fingernails digging into his skin as he increases his pace. “Harder,” you beg almost mindlessly.
“Yeah? You want more, baby?”
You hold onto him tighter. “Yes, please.” You whine, clinging to him. He grunts, doubling his pace if that’s even possible. You feel like you are gonna break into two, in the best possible way, as he keeps hitting your sweet spot that has you moaning so loud it overpowers the squeaking of the bed.
“Say my name. Who’s making you feel this good?” He hisses in your ear, thrusting erratically, his grip bruise-like on your body. “You, Seungcheol! Please, I’m gonna cum!” You cry, your body twitching and tensing, the coil in your belly about to snap.
“Yeah? Cum then. Choke my cock. Milk it dry.” He bites your earlobe as one of his hands reaches down to circle your clit in tight motions, making you shudder violently. The coil in your belly snaps, and with a raw scream of his name, you come, pussy spasming around his length as wetness gushes out of you. On top of you, Seungcheol continues his ruthless pace, his thrusts slicker because of your wetness and even harder than before, to the point you worry the bed will break. He’s merciless, continuing his torture on your clit even after you come, and the oversensitivity settles. “Seungcheol, please…” You plead, absolutely drained. “One more. You can do one more, baby. Come with me,” he pants, whispering, “Let me fill this tight hole up.”
“Oh god,” You clench around him, delirious. The thought of him filling you up sends your body into overdrive as he pinches your clit, making you come once more with a scream of his name. The orgasm ripples through you like an earthquake, shaking your whole body and making your toes curl as your fingernails dig into his back. He orgasms with you, warm spurts of his seed filling you up continuously, so much that some of it leaks out. He slumps down on the bed, lying next to you, his arms still wrapped around you, holding you close. You float between reality and dreamland for a while, catching your breath and lying completely still, your brain chemistry permanently altered.
A while later, Seungcheol helps you clean up before dragging you back to bed, his arms wrapped around you tightly as he spoons you from behind.
“You okay?”
“I think I died and went to heaven,” You whisper, eyes closed. The man softly chuckles behind you, and you almost find it annoying how attractive that simple action is. “Remember how you were saying you could never let me go?” You mumble. “It is I who will not be letting you go. I will lock you up and keep you all to myself.” You know he is smiling as he wraps his arms tighter around you and nuzzles your neck. “Good. That’s where I would rather be.”
Turning around, you cup his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss, his arms enveloping you, his fingers tracing your upper back and your waist as his tongue finds its way inside your mouth. Looks like round two is about to start.
For a bonus, extra special scene, click here or head over to my Patreon! This work is cross-posted on AO3. Please support me over there as I recently opened my account!
a/n 2: atp, just call me a cheol fic blog because he's all I'm writing about. no worries, the next fic i am working on is a DK fic which will probably come out in october end or november. anyway, this was a purely self indulgent fic lol so thank you for reading this filth. i can never write pwp because somehow, the lore ends up being too long. still, thank you for making it till the end and i would love it if you left a comment and reblogged! thank you for your time and until next time, stay safe!
on a separate note, please keep yourself updated with the current state of the world, esp the ongoing genoc!de and wars. free 🇵🇸🇸🇩🇨🇩
SYNOPSIS. As a princess constantly confined to your duties, you’ve always longed for something more… real. Little do you know, your loyal knight has been quietly desiring you since the very beginning, and is more than willing to lay down his life in order to love you the way that you deserve.
PAIRING. knight!kim mingyu x princess!fem!reader
GENRE. royalty au, forbidden romance, fluff, slight angst, suggestive, smut (minors dni 🔞)
WARNINGS. pressures of arranged marriage and loss of maidenhood, reader hating every man that isn’t mingyu, an interaction with a creep ass prince, protective and down bad mingyu!!!, cursing, kissing, making out, terms of endearment (take a shot every time mingyu calls reader ‘princess’... according to docs it’s like 40 lmao), oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected piv sex, creampie, virginity loss (reader), body worship, praise, slight corruption kink
WORD COUNT. 13k
notes: this was originally gonna be pwp but i got too carried away with my yapping LOL i hope u all enjoy! pls don't forget to reblog with ur thots <3
You aren’t supposed to be here.
You’re supposed to be in your bedchambers and asleep by this point, but the anticipation of the next upcoming weeks has been clawing at your efforts. You can already imagine the tedious fittings, and the polite smile you have to wear while the lords and ladies continuously pressure you to choose a prince to finally claim your hand and become your betrothed.
However, to you, the idea of having to marry a stranger for the sake of alliance and not out of love felt like a death sentence. The idea of surrendering your virtue and your body to some foreign prince who saw you as nothing but a bargaining chip made your stomach churn uncomfortably.
So instead of sleeping, you find yourself at the archery range behind the eastern stables, long after the castle has fallen into slumber.
The moon stands proud and high in the sky, washing over the training grounds and the dew-kissed grass with pale light. You’d dismissed the guards earlier with sharp words about needing fresh air, which was both a lie and a truth. Now, you’re standing in your nightgown, nocking another arrow onto your bowstring with shaking fingers. You’ve been here long enough that you could feel the painful creases in your hands from wielding the bow for so long. Out of frustration, perhaps.
As you prepare your stance and aim, you let the arrow fly, but it runs wide and embeds itself into the outer ring of the target with a dull thud.
You let out an irritated groan, already reaching for another arrow from your quiver. But as you prepare to fit the arrow onto your bowstring, a pair of heavy footsteps from behind makes you freeze for a moment, before your shoulders relax. Only one man moved with that quiet, confident stride.
“Princess.”
The deep voice sends a shivering thrill down your spine that has nothing to do with the chilly air.
When you finally turn around, that’s when you see him𑁋Sir Kim Mingyu emerging from the shadows, wearing a dark tunic and breeches instead of his usual armour, with his sword still strapped to his hip. His broad frame casts long shadows across the grass, dark hair slightly disheveled from the breeze, his eyes flickering between your trembling hands, to the poorly shot arrow, then back to your face. Even in the nightfall, you can see the concern etched in his perfectly sculpted features.
He has always been one of the most successful knights in the kingdom𑁋strong, loyal, and overwhelmingly skilled with both blade and blow. Ever since he had been assigned to protect you personally three years ago, he had always been in your shadow; although at some point in time, he started feeling less like a shadow and more like a presence you silently yearned for.
Mingyu pauses a few paces away from you.
“You should not be here at this hour,” he says, though his tone is more sincere than scolding. “It is not safe. Even with the castle asleep, there are eyes everywhere.”
You lower the bow in guilt, fingers aching from the string. “I am aware.”
“Would you like me to escort you back to your𑁋”
“No!” You cut in sharply, before wincing at your tone and softening it. “I… I cannot go back. Not at this moment.”
Mingyu studies you for a long minute, the moonlight catching the sharp line of his jaw almost makes him appear ethereal. He doesn’t move closer𑁋not yet𑁋but he doesn’t retreat either. He can sense the anger surrounding you, clearly expressed by the way you seem to be striking the target, not aiming.
And from years of watching over you, he knows when not to put more pressure on a wound that’s been hurting from the inside. He knows this perhaps more better than anyone.
But he also knows it’s not his duty to assist you in that way. His duty is to protect you physically and nothing more. Not to soothe whatever ache may be plaguing your heart, or cross that invisible line that’s stood tauntingly right in front of him for years, just like now. Emotion has never been part of the oath he took.
Yet… he still takes a step forward, then another, and another, until he stops directly ahead of you.
“Let me assist you then,” Mingyu assures softly.
You scoff at that, rolling your eyes. “You are not on duty.”
His lips curve up into a faint, almost bittersweet smile. “When have I ever been off-duty where you are concerned, princess?”
That sends a lump to form in your throat and your heart thundering against your ribs. You almost want to push him away and order him to leave you alone, but his presence alone in front of you wraps around you like a comforting hug that you’ve always longed for. It’s almost enough to stop the restlessness coursing through your veins, if only for a single moment.
You hand him the bow and quiver. He takes it without hesitation, his large, calloused hand brushing over yours and sending warmth racing up your arm. Then he places himself directly behind you, close enough you can feel the heating radiating from his broad chest even through his tunic.
“Show me your stance,” he orders.
Biting at your bottom lip, you spin on your heel to face the target, bringing your arms up and positioning them as if you’re wielding an invisible bow.
Mingyu’s eyes slowly trace over you𑁋over the line of your shoulder and the delicate curve of your spine beneath your nightgown. For a split second, his breath catches and his jaw clenches. He forces himself to focus back on your posture instead of allowing it to run lower. Gods, it feels debauched to think of you in that way.
He steps closer until his chest is nearly flushed with your back, the warmth of his body chasing away the chill of the night.
“May I, my lady?” he asks, letting his hands hover over your waist.
My lady. You’ve been referred by that term many times𑁋from the maids, servants, and the townspeople whenever you visited the villages. But it strikes you like an arrow whenever it comes out of his mouth.
You swallow hard. “Yes.”
The second Mingyu’s hands settle on your waist, a spark races through your body. His large palms span over the thin silk of your nightgown. He smells faintly of earthy cedarwood, a scent you’ve come to associate with safety and comfort whenever he draws close to you. The roughness of his calloused skin drags across yours as he gently adjusts your posture, guiding your hips into a more steady alignment.
You sense him step away briefly before caging his arms around you once more, his hands enveloping yours as he brings the bow back into your grasp. It feels more steadier in your hold with his strength supporting you, though you’re certain he can hear the way your pulse is racing against the wall of his chest.
His fingers press lightly over yours as he helps you fit the arrow into place, his thumbs innocently grazing the back of your hand.
“Easy now,” Mingyu murmurs lowly, his voice devastatingly close to your ear. “You are trembling like a leaf in my arms, princess.”
Your breath catches. “I am not.”
“You are.”
“The night is cold, that is why.”
“Then I shall keep Your Highness warm, yes?” Mingyu quips amusedly, chuckling lightly at the small pout that crosses your face when he peers down at you with that familiar soft charm. The sound vibrates against your back. You hate how easily he’s able to unravel you. “Now, breathe in with me, princess.”
You do𑁋you try to, at least𑁋drawing back a singular breath in rhythm with him. Your eyes falter to a fleeting close as you bask in his warmth and presence. Mingyu then guides both of your grasps together in pulling back the string of the bow.
“That’s it, good girl,” he mutters softly, the praise landing in that deep timbre before you have time to brace it; it almost makes you break your stance. “Focus.”
Mingyu notices it as well, a quiet yet sharp inhale leaving him and ghosting over the sensitive caress of your neck. He presses his body more against you, his large arms wrapping more securely, almost possessively, around you. How can you possibly focus when he’s tangled around you like this?
Together, you slowly pull the bowstring taut. The world suddenly narrows to the whisper of his voice and the strength of his arms caging you in.
“Release,” he commands.
The arrow flies.
And hits the centre of the clay target with a satisfying swipe.
What possesses you in the next moment is beyond proper, maybe even beyond reckless. A wide grin splits your face in half, and before you can even process it, you’re turning around and enveloping your arms around Mingyu without a second thought. The bow and quiver clatters forgotten to the ground.
You end up shifting your weight on him a little too eagerly from the buzz of excitement coursing through your limbs. Mingyu tries to steady you, but𑁋even in his tall and strong form𑁋it throws him helplessly off balance at the same time. He twists instinctively around you, hugging an arm around your waist while the other braces against the grass.
The two of you end up falling in a heap on the ground, a startled yelp escaping your lips when the world tilts all too suddenly. But Mingyu absorbs most of the impact himself while shielding you from the worst of it.
The air leaves his lungs in a soft grunt.
It takes you an entire minute to realise what just happened. Now you find your fingers curled into the fabric of his tunic, with your nightgown pooled over his thighs. Mingyu lies directly beneath you, his dark hair fanned across the ground, staring up at you with equally surprised eyes that quickly soften into something… fond. You swear that you feel all the anxious thoughts that had been consuming your mind as of late disappear just from the comfort of his presence alone.
You can’t help but gaze down at him for a long moment, taking in the way the moonlight paints his features in a silver glow, how it highlights his nose to the point you’re able to detect the small mole on the tip of it. When the corners of his mouth begin to lift up, that’s when you push yourself off him.
“I𑁋my apologies,” You sputter out of panic as you roll off of him, your face burning with embarrassment. “I did not mean to𑁋I just got excited because we𑁋Gods above, I cannot believe I practically tackled you.”
A deep chuckle rumbles out of Mingyu’s chest. He turns on his side instead of getting up, propping his head up on one hand. “You have nothing to apologise for, princess.”
You shake your head, brushing away some dirt clinging to the ends of your nightgown. “It was very much undignified.”
Mingyu’s grin only widens. “Undignified?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve survived worse battles, my lady,” he retorts playfully. “Trust me. If I can handle a sword tournament, then I am certain I can handle being attacked by an overzealous princess.”
You blink down at him, processing his ridiculous words, when a laugh tumbles out of you before you could stop it. A real laugh. Not one of those polished ones out of courtesy that you were taught during etiquette lessons𑁋it’s the kind of laugh that causes your nose to wrinkle and your shoulders to uncontrollably shake off whatever decorum you have left.
You don’t even notice the enchanted expression on Mingyu’s face until reality sinks back in again and the silence returns. A distant owl from somewhere calls beyond the stables. You feel your throat tighten.
“I… I must return back to my chambers,” You say as you stand up, smoothing down the creases in your nightgown. “I do not want to be scolded about my rebellious behaviour again, neither do I want the maids to be reprimanded.”
Mingyu watches you with a thoughtful expression, the moonlight threading through his lashes. He’s always secretly adored the rebellious side of you𑁋perhaps it gave him a sliver of hope at times. Then with a reluctant exhale, he rises up from the ground, retrieves your fallen bow and quiver, and falls into step behind you like a shadow.
“As you wish, princess,” he states, returning back to his composed demeanour. “I shall escort you back to your chambers safely.”
You think you’ve tried on over fifty dresses at this point.
Maybe even more, to be honest. You had been standing so long that the sun had almost shifted across the entire sky. Your limbs ache from being continuously prodded at by the seamstresses and your spine feels as if it’s going to crack with every gown that you try on, each one different than the last. There was crimson for passion and power, ivory for purity and virtue.
The small comments the servants had been making throughout the session have left a permanent sour taste on your tongue.
“The lower neckline ought to certainly entice Prince Moon of Wolhae…”
“And the embroidery here on the train matches perfectly with Prince Lee of Seongguk…”
“Her Highness has lovely shoulders. They should be emphasised…”
You stare blankly at yourself in the full-length mirror that stood in front of you mockingly. Gods, you appear almost unrecognisable. Your lips are stained rose, your hair twisted into an elaborate hairstyle it feels as if your scalp is screaming for mercy, and this latest gown cinches your waist so tightly you’re basically buried in silk and feel almost lightheaded.
Then, you find your eyes instinctively drifting to the figure stationed at the corner of the room.
Mingyu is standing motionless like a statue, yet you can sense that familiar commanding presence of his even when he isn’t doing anything. He’s wearing his silver knight armour, the polished plates gleaming underneath the natural rays of sunlight pouring into the room. His gaze seems to have travelled elsewhere in the room out of respect.
But for the briefest second, his eyes meet with yours in the mirror.
Your cheeks burn instantly.
“Your Highness?” a voice suddenly strips you out of your thoughts.
You blink at one of the seamstresses holding out a pair of necklace options to you, looking at you expectantly.
“Would you prefer sapphire or emerald?” she asks. “In my opinion, I believe the emerald would compliment your skin beautifully… although sapphire would draw attention from Prince Kang of Wangbi. His house colours are blue, after all.”
Her words stab you straight through the heart.
Your eyes dauntingly flicker between the two options. They’re both extravagantly beautiful, without a doubt meaning to mark you as available, desirable, ready for whichever prince offered the best fit for the kingdom, not for you. Only the kingdom. Love was perhaps an unattainable concept of fiction in the world you’ve been raised in since birth.
The truth of it makes you bite the inside of your cheek hard.
“Neither of them,” You deadpan quietly at first, before your voice raises more sharply, “I cannot bear anymore of this nonsense.”
The room freezes and collectively falls into a hushed silence. You see all the seamstresses exchange nervous glances with each other, all of them hesitating together.
“But Your Highness, we must perfect any altercations for the𑁋”
“I do not care!” You snap back harshly, heat brimming in your eyelids. “I am exhausted from all the fittings and the expectations of the upcoming ball. So, please… leave me at peace. That is an order.”
For a moment, no one dares to speak, before the head seamstress bows deeply and begins to gather all the fabrics, pins, jewelry, and ribbons scattered around the room, not wanting to worsen the situation more than it already is. The other seamstresses follow in swift panic, and you watch them slip out of the door one at a time.
Until you’re alone in the room.
Well, not entirely alone.
Mingyu still remains.
A trembling breath leaves you all at once. The slightest movement makes your knees wobble as you’re still wearing this awful gown. It feels too tight, too suffocating, and you want nothing more than to rip out every sewn pearl out of its wedge.
You start with that by tearing off the pins in your hair and letting it clatter onto the floor. Strands of your hair finally tumble out of its confinement, making your scalp sigh in relief. Then you try to wipe the stain off your lips with the back of your hand, but it relents and only leaves a faint smear across your skin.
Frustration boils even harder, and before you can stop yourself, you reach behind your back to tug viciously at the laces of the gown.
“Traitorous dress,” You murmur under your breath self-depracatingly. “How dare they taint my body with their expectations…”
When your attempts to loosen the bodice comes to no avail, your shoulders sag to the floor in defeat. But as you lift your eyes back to the mirror, that’s when you spot Mingyu again. He’s shifted in your direction slightly, still rigidly standing in the corner in silence. You clench and unclench your fists at your side.
“Sir Mingyu?” You call out to him.
Mingyu immediately shifts his attention to you. “You called, princess?”
“May…” You bite your lip shyly, glancing at him over your shoulder. “May you grant me some assistance?”
“Of course, my lady,” he responds solemnly, his eyes flitting down to where you’re weakly tugging at the strings of your gown. “Would you like for me to call in the maids?”
“I… no, I do not wish for the maids or anyone, for that matter.” You shake your head. “I… I am seeking your help.”
A stunned pause from him. “My help?”
“Yes,” You say, voice hammering in your chest as you spin on your heel to face him with an exhausted, pleading look. “Please… I feel as if I cannot breathe in this.”
Mingyu sucks in a sharp breath. He hesitates once again, conflict flickering in his dark brown eyes, before he inclines his head in a shallow bow.
“As you command, princess.”
He crosses the room in three measured strides, the soft clink of his armour bouncing off the walls. You turn your back to him once more. In the mirror, you watch him approach you from behind.
Mingyu slides his gauntlets off and sets them down on a nearby table before returning back to you. His nostrils flare visibly at the sight of your back offered to him, the beautiful line of your spine exposed willingly for him where the gown had already begun to slip. He’s standing way too close, close enough he can smell the lingering scent of jasmine on your skin.
“Sir Mingyu?” Your voice snaps him out of your thoughts.
He clears his throat soundly. “Yes?”
“Relieve me,” You croak out brokenly. “Please, I beg.”
The soft plea strikes him in the chest like a blade. He mutters something under his breath that you can’t hear, despite the close proximity. With a shuddering inhale, his bare, trembling hands find their way to the laces, slowly beginning to pull them apart one by one.
With each one loosened, you feel the suffocating weight of the dress slowly but surely dissipating away and giving you more room to breathe.
Mingyu keeps his eyes fixed on the laces𑁋tries to keep them fixed on the laces and nowhere else. His hands that are trained to wield swords and bows are surprisingly gentle with each one he undoes. Unbridled relief fills your ribs by the time he reaches the middle of your back, and you can’t help the little involuntary moan that leaves your mouth.
His hands falter for a second from the sound.
Gods above, help me.
The thoughts that swim around him are completely unbecoming of a knight. He has no right to notice how the silk of the gown parts beautifully like water, no right to think that if he leaned in a little more, he could brush his lips against the nape of your neck and breathe you in like a man begging to worship his lover. How it would be so easy for him to ruin his honour by ruining you instead.
He would be gentle with you𑁋you are far too precious to be handled roughly. He would drop to his knees and worship you right there until the sun set and rose again if you requested, because the thought of some unworthy prince treating you like nothing but a prize at an auction angers him more than anything else.
His armour suddenly feels too tight around his body.
“Almost done, princess,” he mutters hoarsely. “Only a few more remain.”
You nod nimbly at his words. You keep your eyes trained on the mirror as his hands continue the rest of their descent down your back, untying the rest of the lace. At one point, his knuckles accidentally graze the warm skin above your spine, causing you to flinch. Mingyu notices it right away.
“My apologies,” he says and lets his hands hover above your skin, too afraid to continue. “I did not mean𑁋”
“It is alright,” You tell him. “I… I do not mind your touch.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw at that as he resumes the rest of the journey. By the time the last one is undone, he takes an immediate step back to give you more space to breathe, but the absence of his warmth hits you right away when the cool air caresses your skin.
Slowly, you allow the gown to slip to the floor, leaving you in nothing but a thin and translucent chemise you had been wearing underneath. Mingyu redirects his eyes instinctively to give you whatever privacy he could𑁋always the honourable knight he is𑁋but his ears picks up the sounds of you shifting around the room for a few moments.
You reach for a light robe draped on a nearby chair and slip it around your body, tying the sash around your waist. Then you turn back to Mingyu who is still facing away from you. A chuckle leaves you.
“You can look now, Sir Mingyu,” You assure him playfully.
Mingyu does not move right away. For a man who could read a battlefield like the lines on the back of his hand, he seems suddenly unsure how to interpret a simple room. But when he finally turns his head, he’s met with the sight of a faint smile across your face.
You appear so vulnerable now. The gown from earlier had been extravagant, sure, but none could compare to this version of you standing in front of him𑁋the one who had stripped herself from all the frustrations the day placed on her. Gods above, Mingyu can stare at you all night and never tire if it means seeing you happy and comfortable in your own skin.
“You seem relieved,” he says, folding his arms over his chest.
A soft laugh escapes you. “That obvious?”
“Very much so,” Mingyu replies knowingly. “How are you faring?”
A mixture of happiness and relief washes over your features simultaneously. You step up to the grand window and bask in the late afternoon sunlight spilling through the glass, letting out the deepest breath you never realised you’d been holding in this entire time.
“Like I can breathe again,” You say, closing your eyes for a singular precious moment to allow the peace to wash over you. “Both physically and… metaphorically as well.”
Mingyu observes you for a few, long moments. Without hesitation, he steps up to the glass right beside you, his armour gleaming under the sunbeams. The window catches a perfect view of the rolling green hills up ahead and the royal gardens down below.
The two of you stand in front of the window for a long while. Outside, the kingdom stretches out endlessly beneath the afternoon sky. The gardens bloom with a beautiful colour palette of serenity and rose quartz flowers and the rolling hills melt into distant mountain peaks that you’ve always dreamed of exploring if you ever got the chance to.
But you know you would never get that opportunity. You have always been confined to your duties as a princess since the very day you were brought into this world. The only world you’ve always known was within the walls of the castle and the expectations that came with it.
As you were growing up, you’ve only ever yearned for something… more. Something real. Something where you can allow your heart to travel to wherever it desires without fear or consequence. To experience a love that wasn’t manufactured out of duty or arranged into existence. You’ve always wondered what real love feels like.
You glance up at Mingyu ponderingly.
“May I… ask you a question, Sir Mingyu?” You ask unsurely.
Mingyu lifts a brow. “Of course, my lady.”
“Have you ever… courted a woman when you were younger?”
A flicker of surprise graces his features. He appears almost stunned to speak at first, his dark eyes widening slightly, before nostalgia softens his face. There’s a shadow of reluctance tucked behind his gaze as he ducks his head down briefly for a moment. Not to avoid, but to think.
“I… Yes, I have courted women back when I lived in the village, before knighthood,” he answers. “Most were fleeting though, and I have learned a lot from those experiences.”
You nod solemnly, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the next question you’re about to ask.
“Were you in love with any of them?”
Mingyu hums pensively.
“There was one, yes. She was the baker’s daughter, while I was the blacksmith’s son,” Mingyu continues with a faint smile. “She always had the brightest laugh, and flour dusted her cheeks no matter how many times she wiped them.”
A knot in your stomach tightens from his words, the jealousy flashing through so irrationally. You hate how desperately you want to ask the name of who he speaks to fondly about; about whether or not she still occupies his heart to this day.
Mingyu notices the way you shift your feet uncomfortably.
“But her father wanted her to marry another man, one with prospects and a bag full of coin.” He exhales slowly, letting his fingertips trace over the dust on the edge of the windowsill. “I had nothing to offer her, so… we parted ways ultimately. From what I hear, she is happily married with two children now.”
That’s when you finally lift your eyes up at him, catching how the sunlight captures the warm brown of his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” You mutter out quietly.
Mingyu just chuckles. “Do not be sorry, princess. It is all in the past.”
“Still,” You add in, shaking your head. “I have always thought of love as something… eternal. Lovers who stay together through thick and thin until the end of their days.”
Mingyu tilts his head curiously at you. “Has the topic of love been consuming your mind as of late, Your Highness?”
Heat rises through your cheeks at his question. For a heartbeat, you allow yourself to look at him. With Mingyu, you have always felt allowed to express yourself without the pretense of propriety. It’s always been easy with him, it seems.
“Yes,” You confess bashfully. “It has.”
A heavy silence follows after your voice fades. A silence of contemplation and, oddly, comfort. You know if you speak such words to your parents or any other soul in the castle, they would look at you with nothing but disapproval and claim that your rebellious behaviour causes a negative look on the kingdom.
Mingyu watches you carefully.
“Have you ever fallen in love, princess?” he asks simply.
The question steals the breath from your lungs. A simple question that requires a simple answer of yes or no. Yet… it is not so easy.
You’ve read about love in the stories that fill the grand library’s walls. You’ve seen love in the way the palace gardeners tend to their blooms preciously through pricked fingers. You’ve heard about love when you overhear the stories told by the kitchen maids about the stable boys. Love has always surrounded you in every crevice in life, but it’s always felt so distant.
Until now. For the first time in your life, someone has asked you about your heart, not your duty.
“I…” You hesitate, forcing your gaze back out the window. “I believe that I𑁋”
Before you could finish, a loud knock pounds at the door, startling you and Mingyu at the same time. Mingyu’s hand instinctively reaches out to his sword when a second more persistent knock arrives when the first one is left unanswered, already ready to shield you from any kind of danger.
A muffled voice speaks through the wood, “Your Highness? The Queen requests your presence in the solar. She wishes to review the guest list for the upcoming ball.”
Dread slivers down your spine at the request. Your eyes flicker between the door and Mingyu𑁋when did he stand so close to you?𑁋who is already back to wearing that disciplined mask on his face, the warmth of his softened features that were there a minute ago now tucked away carefully. Yet his eyes… they still seem to betray him.
The sight makes your heart stutter painfully in your chest.
“Tell Mother I shall be there shortly,” You call back to the door.
When you hear the servant’s footsteps fade away down the corridor, you release a shaky breath, grabbing the ends of your delicate robe and drawing it over yourself to hide how your chest is rising and falling erratically. You don’t catch the way Mingyu’s fingers tighten at his side, fighting the urge to reach out to you even if you are just an arm’s length away.
“I do not want to go,” You admit unsteadily.
“I know,” Mingyu murmurs back. “But you must.”
You peer up at him with guilty eyes.
“I… I apologise for my question earlier,” You say weakly, bowing your head down apologetically even if you have more authority than him. “I did not mean to intrude on your past.”
Mingyu’s facade cracks at your words. He shakes his head.
“You could never intrude, princess.” He hesitates momentarily, before adding on, “You may ask me anything and I will always answer truthfully. I… I feel honoured that you trust me with such vulnerable questions.”
Your heart squeezes as a grateful smile of your own graces your lips.
You nudge him playfully with your shoulder. “May you escort me to the solar, Sir Mingyu?”
Mingyu lets out a quiet sound that almost sounds like a laugh and offers his armoured arm for you to hold. He doesn’t bring up that you still have yet to answer his question from before. You’re the princess at the end of the day𑁋you don’t owe him an answer as much as he owes you one.
“It would be my honour, my lady.”
Mingyu know it’s his duty to stand here𑁋to watch over the ball and ensure the safety of the guests, and especially you𑁋but he swears that he cannot breathe in his armour with every man that stands way too close to you. With every lowly prince that settles a hand on your hip, whispering sultry words in your ears that will attempt to sway you in their direction.
No matter how far he stands away from you, he can still spot how visibly uncomfortable you are. He catches the stiffness in your shoulders, the polite smile on your face that never quite reached your beautiful eyes, and the brief, desperate glances you stole in his direction when no one else was looking.
Say the word, princess… and I’ll end this for you, he thinks.
A low, bitter sound escapes his throat. He should not have the right to feel this jealousy when you’re only fulfilling your duties. He knows where your heart stands when it comes to the arranged marriages you’ve grown to despise.
The only question is… if your heart did not lie with any of the princes, then where did it lie?
“Your Highness, it is an honour to share this dance with you,” Prince Moon of Wolhae whispers in your ear with a coy smirk. His hand is pressed firmly into the small of your back, pulling you closer than necessary as he leads you in a slow dance while the orchestra plays an intimate melody in the background.
You force a courteous smile, even if every thought in your mind is begging you to pull away. Prince Moon stands too close to you, close enough his breath is too warm on your skin and his compliments come off intentionally calculated. You’ve already shared a dance with two other princes before him, and the activity of the day has begun to take its toll on you.
There was Prince Lee of Seongguk from earlier, who you swear had hands that trembled more than yours, but he was friendlier than the others. While Prince Kang of Wangbi spoke mostly more about his future heirs and himself than asking about you. And then there was Prince Moon, whose comments became more crude and entitled by the minute.
“You dance beautifully as well,” he continues, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Together, we could build something unstoppable, should I say. Your kingdom’s ports… my army… and you in my bed every night, hm?”
You swallow down the bile rising in your throat, a grimace forming at your painted lips. “You are very forward, Prince Moon.”
He merely chuckles, seemingly dismissing your discomfort. “Because I know what I want, princess. And what I want is you.”
Although Mingyu can’t hear your conversations, his blood boils and his fists clench so tightly it makes his gloves creak regardless. Get your filthy hands off her, bastard. You do not own her.
Prince Moon keeps mumbling sweet poisons to you as the dance continues and the music begins to swell. The large chandelier hanging from the high ceilings casts shards of glittering gold on the floor, shimmering off your dainty circlet crown and the elegant jewelry that decorate your body.
“I admire your ambitions, Prince Moon.”
“Ambition is what wins kingdoms, my lady,” the man retorts easily, spinning you around with practiced ease. His eyes rake over your neckline as he dips you briefly, before bringing you back up with him face-to-face. His hand drops lower on your back. “Tell me, princess𑁋how do you prefer your maidenhood to be claimed? Sweet and gentle or… rough and delicious? I bet you have imagined it, yes?”
Your stomach churns with disgust at his inquiry, but a traitorous flush creeps up your neck like a snake. Yes, you can’t deny that you have thought of it before, more often than a princess should, but never with a man with greedy hands, cold ambition, and who speaks to you as if you were some common tavern wench in front of the entire Royal Court.
You’ve imagined it with someone else entirely. A man with hands that are not plagued with conquest and rings of greed. But a man with hands as gentle as a feather on your skin. A man whose touch makes you feel wanted rather than hunted, who makes your heart ache out of longing and not out of fear.
A man that you love.
When Prince Moon spins you around again, your gaze frantically searches through the vast ballroom for Mingyu. You desperately try to decipher through all the smiling faces of the guests and nobles, through the goblets of wine being passed around, through the sea of glittering jewels and shiny silk.
Until they finally find him.
Mingyu is staring at you𑁋has been staring at you this entire time𑁋standing frozen in the corner with his dark eyes icy cold, unreadable, and almost… sad. Because a knight is not allowed to interfere with royal courtship or diplomacy. A knight is certainly forbidden from challenging a crowned prince over a woman who can never belong to him.
But consequences be damned. He made a promise to the oath he took three years ago: to protect you for the rest of his life. If he receives punishment for fulfilling his oath, then he would gladly trade his knighthood to keep you safe from these perverted vultures.
A smirk spreads across Prince Moon’s face when he notices the flush on your cheeks.
“The idea certainly appeals to you, doesn’t it, princess?” he continues to pry.
Gods, you want to slap this man senseless across the face.
“I believe you are forgetting yourself, Prince Moon,” You claim through gritted teeth. “I am not some conquest of yours to be spoken of so vulgarly.”
Prince Moon’s nostrils flare in amusement. “Why are you pretending you do not crave the same things every woman does, princess?”
For a spell, you simply stare at him. Then, you pull your hand away from his shoulder. The movement seems to break the rhythm of the dance instantly.
“I do,” You answer quietly.
The man’s smile widens.
“But not with a man who mistakes vulgarity for charm.”
His smile falters.
Around you, the orchestra continues to play, the sounds of the violins soaring to their crescendo as other couples drift across the polished dance floor, blissfully unaware that one dance has come to a standstill.
You lift your chin to look at him, a cunning look to your face.
“You speak of kingdoms and armies as trophies, and of women as though they are no different.” Your gaze drops to the hand still resting on your lower back, and you reach down to pry it away as if it’s a leech. “I have met merchants at the market with more grace than you, Prince Moon.”
Irritation flashes across his face. “You wound me, princess. You would reject an alliance between our kingdoms over a few words?”
“I would reject any man who believes his merit is the gold upon his brow,” You deadpan sharply. “Or any man who believes a crown excuses the absence of decency.”
Several nobles glance curiously in your direction, but you don’t let their eyes tug at your determination.
“You may find that beggars cannot be choosers, Your Highness,” Prince Moon remarks stiffly, eyes narrowing down at you.
You scoff lightly at that, rolling your eyes to his indifference. When the crescendo of the orchestra fades away, that’s when you take your chances to fully separate from him. With a cold smile and a searing glare, you rip his touch fully away from your skin, and it feels as if you can breathe out a long breath at last.
After that, you offer Prince Moon a shallow curtsey𑁋more out of simple etiquette than respect𑁋as the violins fade into an awkward silence until there’s only the sounds of your thundering heart and the murmurs rippling through the surrounding nobles.
“Thank you for your time, Prince Moon,” You begin evenly, smoothing down the fabric of your dress as if they had been stained. “I appreciate your… candor. It highlights your character vibrantly. I wish you a pleasant evening and safe travels on your return to Wolhae.”
Prince Moon’s jaw tightens. Your eyes sparkle victoriously under the chandelier.
“A pity,” the man chides in disbelief. “I had hoped that the stories of your grace were true. You do recall that your parents invited me here for a reason, is that not right, princess?”
You hold his gaze with a steely look.
“You are correct,” You answer. “But I am disappointed that a prince does not know the difference between an invitation and a promise.”
Your words land hard enough for a hushed silence to fall across the room. Prince Moon has the audacity to open his damned mouth to argue, but it falls back to a quick close when he realises that everyone is watching this happen right before their eyes. Everyone is witnessing royalty reject another in the middle of the grand ballroom. Your hands at your side start to tremble, but you hide them carefully within the folds of your dress.
Gods, you definitely know that your parents are likely going to place your head atop a spike in the morning for this. You can already hear in your head the lecture that awaits you after sunrise. But the strength you’ve been holding on for the past weeks all crumbled the second you shared a dance with the first prince.
The adrenaline and anger that had been keeping your spine straight is now entirely drained from your body. Before your knees could buckle, a warm yet commanding presence appears by your side instantly.
“Prince Moon,” a voice deadpans𑁋Mingyu’s voice. He bows his head low enough to satisfy simple etiquette. “Her Highness has made her wishes clear.”
Prince Moon flits his eyes to him, dragging a condescending look up and down his stance.
“And who are you to involve yourself in royal affairs?”
“Sir Kim Mingyu of the Royal Guard.”
“So you are a servant, then?”
“I am whomever the royals of this kingdom prescribe me to be,” Mingyu states without flinching. “In this case, I serve the princess of this nation, who has clearly expressed her displeasure.”
The tension between the two of men only thickens that even seems the ballroom itself is holding its breath. Prince Moon’s face contorts with humiliated rage. For a second, you think he might consider snapping back again, but Mingyu shifts imperceptibly closer to you, his gauntleted hand hovering near your lower back.
The prince’s eyes flicker calculatingly between the two of you. Whatever he sees in Mingyu’s dead stare makes him think better of it.
He offers a stiff, quite literally mocking bow to you.
“Very well,” Prince Moon spits out. “Until we meet again, princess.”
You watch as the man stalks his way back into the crowd. Murmurs ripple throughout the ballroom𑁋most appear to be siding with the prince, because of course𑁋but you don’t let it get to you, can’t let it show that it’s getting to you.
“Your Highness.”
When you look back up at Mingyu, everything else seems to fade. Worry and the tiniest hint of anger𑁋not at you, but for you𑁋crosses his face when he catches you the hazy exhaustion on your features.
“Shall I escort you somewhere quieter, my lady?” he asks quietly so only you can hear, already offering his arm to you.
You nod, slipping your hand into the crook of his arm. You keep your gaze to the floor as he escorts you through the crowd of guests, who part like water for you and Mingyu, their scandalised eyes following every step.
“Did you see how she dismissed Prince Moon?”
“Bold… or foolish.”
“The King and Queen will not be pleased with this, certainly.”
You clench your jaw, trying to fight off the burn threatening to rise in your cheeks from their remarks. Mingyu doesn’t say anything yet, but the protective way he keeps you close to him is louder than any of their words.
He leads out the grand side doors, down the torchlit corridor where you walk past the watchful eyes of your painted ancestors on the walls. The farther you travel away from the ballroom, the fainter the music becomes, and the more you feel like you can breathe again.
Mingyu shuts the door behind you when you enter the grand library. The entire room had been cleared because of the ball taking place. Towering shelves of books stretch out endlessly before you, the smell of old ink and parchment lingering through the air. You always come here whenever you wanted to escape𑁋you forget at times that it’s still part of the palace. A quieter and vulnerable part of your world.
The books you’ve read here never judged you.
Your shoulders drop to the floor before you realise how long you’ve been holding them up.
“I think I may have ruined everything,” You admit quietly after a long while of silence. “I feel as if I may have jeopardised my title, my status, and yet… I do not feel sad about it, but𑁋”
“𑁋relieved?”
You blink back at Mingyu in surprise.
“Yes,” You finish. “Relieved, strangely.”
Mingyu tilts his head skeptically. He steps up into the space right next to you, where your eyes are roaming over the books on the walls.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he begins, clearing his throat soundly. “I believe that you were the most radiant one up there.”
A choked laugh bubbles out of you despite everything. “Even if I humiliated myself in front of the entire court?”
“Especially then, princess.”
“You are just saying that to make me feel better, you liar,” You accuse teasingly.
“Lying would be against my oath,” he remarks, the corners of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “I have been nothing but truthful during our times together, my lady.”
The banter has always been easy between the two of you, you realise. The burdens and scrutiny waiting on the other side of the door feel less frightening to face when you know Mingyu is right by your side. You know that at any moment, this temporary peace could be ruined and you’d be exiled back to your duties𑁋or worse, exiled from the kingdom because of the scrutiny.
Mingyu’s eyes roam over the quiet reflection on your face, and he feels his heart ache in his chest.
“Come here, princess.”
You lift a puzzled brow. “What𑁋”
Before you can finish, he’s wrapping his armoured arm your waist and drawing you into his hold. The cool metal of his gauntlet presses gently on your lower back, and before you know it, you find yourself swaying together in the middle of the dead-silent library.
“No music,” he points out with a fond smile. “Just us.”
There’s no grand chandelier above your heads, no judging nobles or entitled princes. There’s only the soft glow of lanterns, moonlight filtering in through tall windows, and Mingyu’s presence wrapped around you. It feels more intimate than anything else.
“You are terrible at this,” You say playfully, even while resting your cheek on his breastplate. “The armour makes you clunky.”
A huff of amusement leaves him. “Forgive me. I am a knight, not a dancer.”
“It is alright,” You reassure him calmly. “Follow my lead.”
He does𑁋well, he tries to𑁋and there’s something so endearing seeing a man so formidable fumble a little when attempting to move with you. But after a few more turns, his movements become surprisingly graceful when he allows himself to stop overthinking about it.
You lead him in slow, sweeping circles across the grand library, your shared giggles ringing out into the room when his armour accidentally clips one of the shelves a little too harshly. At one point, he spins you smoothly and dips you down, one arm secured at your waist while the other supports your back. Your circlet glints under the moonlight as your head tilts back.
He holds you there for a heartbeat longer than necessary, gazing down at you with such open adoration that you almost forget that no one else is watching you now. But when he pulls you back upright again, your faces are only a breath away from each other. Your breaths hitch at the same time from the closeness.
The world suddenly narrows. His scent fills all of your senses, and the way his dark eyes drop down to your lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you, as if it was only ever meant for you.
You rise on your toes instinctively, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. If you lean in a fraction closer, your mouths would meet in a soft yet long overdue𑁋
The heavy doors of the library slam open with a force enough to make the surrounding bookshelves tremble. Mingyu reacts faster than thought, spinning you around so that his body is a protective wall between you and the intruders. His hand flies down to the handle of his sword even as recognition hits him.
Three elite guards step into the room with their expressions hardened. The captain strides forward, eyes narrowing between the two of you.
“By royal decree of the King and Queen,” he announces authoritatively. “Her Highness is to return to her chambers at once.”
Mingyu’s face turns molten. “She is under my protec𑁋”
“Stand down, knight. Consider this a warning for your actions tonight,” the captain spits back harshly. “There will be far worse consequences than a reprimand if you overstep your duties.”
Mingyu’s body visibly tenses, but he offers a stiff, obedient bow of his head. “Understood, Captain.”
The captain nods curtly, then gestures to his men. The two other guards step forward and take hold of your arms, already urging you to the door.
“Mingyu𑁋” Your voice cracks as you twist your head back to look at him.
He takes one unconscious step forward, his hand twitching at his sword, but the captain’s warning glares stop him cold.
The heavy doors slam shut behind you, cutting him off from view. The corridor feels colder without him.
Your chambers is quiet, almost too quiet.
The heavy velvet curtains had been drawn tight that not even moonlight can spill inside to grant you peace, and only a few candles flickered on your bedside table, casting long, almost taunting shadows across the cold stone walls of your bedroom. You find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed in your nightgown, with your knees up to your chest and your arms wrapped loosely around them.
No matter what, sleep refuses to come. After the ball had ended, you were banished immediately to your chambers by your mother’s icy command, her parting voice still ringing in your ears about how you had embarrassed the entire kingdom in one single night.
Yet it’s not your mother’s voice that disturbs your sleep, not entirely at least. Rather it’s Prince Moon’s vile words. His words about your title, your autonomy, your maidenhood. You know that you shouldn’t allow his words to affect you as much as it does, but your mind can’t help but wander. All your life, your maidenhood has been treated like nothing but a transaction. A part of you that you always owed for alliances and bloodlines, not out of love. Never has anyone asked what you wanted.
Your thighs press together underneath your nightgown, a restless kind of heat blooming low in your stomach. For years, you resigned yourself to this untimely fate; but tonight, after rejecting all the princes so publicly, you decide that this is the night where you would finally choose yourself.
Anxiety throbs beneath your ribs as you rise from the bed and cross the room with bare feet. You pause right before the heavy oak door, fingers hovering over the latch. This is lunacy that you’re about to commit, but the fire in your veins refuses to be quelled by reason tonight. Opening the latch, you crack the door open enough to catch one of the maids passing by in the corridor.
“Hyejin!” You whisper-yell into the dark hallway.
The girl startles from your voice, her lantern swinging around when she turns to the sound. She glances both ways before rushing to your side with a silent bow. She has always been loyal and discreet, and knew better than to question odd requests at odd hours.
“Yes, Your Highness?” she asks hushedly.
“Find Sir Mingyu at once,” You instruct her urgently. “Tell him that I require his immediate presence. And do not notify a soul, please.”
Hyejin’s eyes widen fractionally, but she merely nods. “Of course, my lady. I shall return with him swiftly.” She spins on her heel and vanishes into the shadows of the hallway like a ghost.
You shut the door and lean back against it, pressing a hand to your racing heart. The minute that drag feels like an eternity. Your legs pace around the room in anticipation, straighten your already-flawless blush-colour coverlet on your bed, adjust the candles, then you sit again only to stand once more.
Doubts swarm your head like storm clouds. What if he refuses? What if we are discovered? What if I am𑁋what if we are both𑁋ruined forever? But beneath all your worries burned a defiant need. You wanted this. You wanted him.
When three measured knocks land at your door minutes later, your breath catches in your throat. Pursing your lips tightly, you approach the door and unlatch it carefully. The door creeps open slowly, before a pair of heavy footsteps slips inside.
The world suddenly fades into complete silence when Mingyu closes to the door behind him with a soft click and slides the bolt into place. He’s still in his ceremonial armour from the ball, the intricately engraved steel shimmering like stars under the candlelight and the red cape behind him flowing down to the floor like a waterfall.
Mingyu’s ready eyes sweeps across your chambers naturally as he strides in your direction𑁋from the high curtains that drape down to the ground, to your heavy wardrobe, to even beneath your four poster bed𑁋to spot any kind of danger that might be lurking. It’s only when he finds nothing does he allow his gaze to settle back on you.
“Princess,” he calls worriedly, catching the distraught expression on your tired features. “What is the matter? Are you hurt?”
You shake your head diffidently.
“No.”
“Did Her Majesty𑁋”
“No.”
Mingyu falls silent.
“Then why have you summoned me at this hour, my lady?” he asks, more softer this time.
You hesitate, fingertips digging carelessly into the thin fabric of your nightgown. The words you rehearsed in your head suddenly feel too bold and dangerous.
This is it. There is no going back now.
“I… I want you to teach me,” You admit shakily.
Mingyu blinks, arching up a thick brow. “Teach you?”
“About… pleasure.”
The colour drains from his face almost instantly, before a deep flush creeps up his neck that you see hidden in the shadows of his gorget. He takes an instinctive step back, the metal of his greaves scraping against the floor.
“I-I beg your pardon, princess?” he coughs out flusteredly, his voice coming out rougher than expected.
The weight of your words hit you, but you refuse to let your courage crack anymore. You step up toward him until the tips of your feet barely graze his boots, closing the distance he tries to create. Even through his breastplate, you feel the heat radiating off him. It helps to ease your nerves only slightly.
“I want you to teach me…” You begin nervously. “...how to have sex.”
Mingyu’s breath hitches audibly, his composed mask shattering entirely. His gaze turns dark as he fights the battle raging in his head right now: honour clashing with desire, duty against the tug of his heart. A shiver runs through his tall frame. He attempts to force his attention elsewhere, pretending this was nothing but his imagination, yet your request has permanently imprinted itself in his mind and… and he cannot deny that this is reality.
Gods, the thought alone has him aching already.
“Princess, I𑁋do you understand what you are asking me right now?” A pensive look washes over his face. “I am your sworn knight. You cannot… say such things to me. If anyone were to find out, we would both be punished before our next breath.”
But even as those words leave his mouth, he betrays himself regardless. His hands flex at his sides, fighting the urge to reach out to you.
You reach up to brush a path over his chest, and he sighs in restraint as if your hand burns him.
“You are my sworn knight, Sir Mingyu,” You repeat, guiding your hand up until it rests on his warm chin. “The only man I trust the most in this world. With my life, with my heart, and now… my body.” A sharp heat prickles beneath your eyelids. “I do not care about the risks because I choose you. I always have. So I… I beg of you to show me what it is like to sully my virtue. Please.”
Nothing but desire flashes through his thoughts. Mingyu rests his armoured hand over yours that’s on his chest and leans down to rest his forehead on yours. You both breathe each other in for a moment, his warmth breath grazing upon your lips.
That is, until he sinks to his knees, peering up at you with nothing but unyielding devotion, with your hand still in his. The position alone makes heat flood into your core𑁋seeing your powerful knight on his knees before you.
“I am yours to command tonight, my princess,” he says, pressing a vowing kiss to each knuckle on your hand which sends sparks up your spine. “And I will show you what it is like to be worshipped so sweetly… that you forget every cage duty has tried to force on you.”
Before you can speak, Mingyu flips your hand over to trace his lips over the pulse point at your wrist, never breaking eye contact with you. Slowly, he trails higher to kiss along the sensitive skin of your forearm, to the crook of your elbow, and one at your shoulder. Then he rises back to his feet, cups your cheek with a gauntleted hand, and begins to lean in.
Your eyes squeeze shut naturally, your body bracing for the first real kiss. But Mingyu teasingly pauses just short of your mouth, a smile forming at his lips as he relishes the sight of your features up close for the first time.
He mutters something along the lines of beautiful before claiming your lips.
Mingyu kisses you slowly at first, learning the shape of your mouth, then it grows needier as you part your lips for him. His tongue brushes against yours tentatively, never demanding more unless he knows you want it. Your fingers curl desperately on the edges of his armour while the world tilts around the two of you.
“I have yearned for the taste of your lips for years, my lady,” he whispers against your mouth, gripping your waist a little tighter. “To have you now is truly… a privilege I will never take for granted.”
He begins to shed his armour with his mouth never leaving yours once, stripping his gauntlets and the heavy pauldrons on his shoulders until they fall uselessly to the floor. Piece by piece, the barriers between your bodies disappear𑁋the breastplate, the vanbraces around his forearms, the gorget on his neck𑁋leaving him in only his linen undershirt and breeches.
Your impatient hands roam underneath his shirt, caressing over the strong planes of his chest. Mingyu chuckles at your eagerness and pulls off his shirt entirely, letting it join the pile of steel on the floor. You pull away from him to just admire in awe.
Moonlight may have been kinder to the sight of him, but the candlelight illuminates him even more. His broad shoulders hold strength and the faint scars across his defined chest and abdomen make him appear more real. More yours.
You trace over the line of an old battle scar beneath his collarbone. His body tenses from your touch.
“You are staring, princess,” Mingyu murmurs amusedly, though his cheeks are flushed. He strokes your lower lip with a fingertip. “Do I please you?”
“More than I can say,” You say with a soft smile. “My knight is… quite ravishing to the eyes.”
A boyish grin tugs at his mouth. He nuzzles his face into your neck.
“Ravishing, am I?” he muses playfully, lips brushing against the skin there. “Then I suppose I must live up to my title, my love.”
Without a second thought, he lifts you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing. A surprised giggle escapes you before it is swallowed down by another deep kiss. He carries you a few steps toward your grand bed. The velvet coverlet feels cool against your back when he lays you down carefully, his large body hovering over yours.
His hands slip under your nightgown and chemise, his calloused hands caressing over your thighs.
“May I take this off, princess?” he asks, dark eyes searching yours for any hesitation.
“Yes,” You breathe out, clutching weakly at his shoulders.
Mingyu slowly draws the fabric upward. The cool air of the room kisses over the sensitive skin of your legs. You lift your hips up to help him, and he peels the gown over your waist, your breasts, and finally over your head. It flutters to the floor like a discarded flower petal, leaving you in only your thin chemise. The candlelight almost makes it appear translucent.
His fingers toy with the straps of your chemise, glancing back up at you for permission again. When you give him a small nod, his face softens with such tenderness it makes you far too shy to maintain eye contact as he peels the delicate lace down your body. Shivers run up and down your skin, not from the cold but from the weight of his stare. Like you’re the only star in the sky.
His throat bobs visibly.
“Fuck, princess…” Mingyu curses, letting his hands glide up your sides before resting on the underside of your breasts. He caresses over one gently with his large palms, taking your nipple between his fingertips, causing you to let out a soft moan. “You are an art piece… crafted with perfection by the heavens themselves. Untouched by the world, but allowing her knight to ruin so sweetly.”
He leans down to capture your nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly while his free hand plays with the other. Your body arches needily against his, and the velvety heat of his tongue has you clenching around nothing. He continues his journey downwards, his mouth tracing a path of fire between the valley of your breasts and lower over your stomach, stopping when he reaches your mound.
Mingyu spreads your legs a little wider, groaning when he notices how wet you already are.
“Gods above, look at you.” He strokes soothingly along the inside of your thigh, settling between your legs more comfortably. “Your sweet little cunt is weeping for attention. May I taste you, my lady? This will be your first lesson in pleasure.”
You nod urgently, already digging your hands into the silk sheets of your bed.
With a grateful smile, Mingyu leans in and presses an open-mouth kiss to your folds. You jolt at the wet contact, but he grips your hips firmly to hold you in place. “Easy, sweet girl. Stay open for me. Let me devour this innocent pussy…”
He drags the flat of his warm tongue from your entrance and up to the little swollen bud at the top.
“This pretty pearl right here is your clit.” He teasingly circles his tongue around the sensitive nub, before sealing it in his mouth with a loud suck that echoes off the walls of your chambers. “So sensitive… You taste like the sweetest, most forbidden nectar.”
You cry out a whimpered gasp when he sucks it more firmly, the pleasure striking you hard like lightning. Your hands find their way into his dark hair, burying him into you even more. Mingyu grunts at the sensation and doubles on his efforts, switching between gentle sucks and rapid flicks of his tongue on your pussy, keeping his eyes solely locked on the way your face twists with pleasure.
When he pulls away for a breath, you look down and the sight nearly destroys you𑁋Mingyu, your loyal knight, between your legs with his lips glistening with your wetness.
“May I… put a finger inside you, my lady?” he asks breathlessly, hot breath fanning against your slick folds. “Just one for now. Only if you want, princess.”
“Yes,” You sigh out, trembling with need. “I want it, please…”
Mingyu kisses your knee appreciatively and returns to your aching core. At the same time, he teases a thick finger at your entrance and coats it with your arousal, before gently pushing inside. Your body welcomes him instantly.
The stretch is foreign to you, but he works it through you thoroughly. He curls his finger in an upward motion that has your walls fluttering around him. The simultaneous sensation of his tongue and fingers makes you grip his hair even tighter and your hips to grind against his face.
“Mingyu, it feels so good…”
“Mmmh, good girl,” he praises sweetly, voice muffled against you. “Let me add a second one, yeah? To stretch you more open for me…”
He works another thick finger alongside the first. The burn between your legs melts away the brief discomfort of the stretch into pure heat. His fingers thrust in and out of you at a steady rhythm as his mouth continues lapping at your pussy. Your loud, broken moans bounce off the walls of the chambers as the pleasure builds rapidly, your hips practically riding his face.
Mingyu growls when he feels your thighs start to tremble harshly around his head.
“That’s it, my love,” he murmurs hotly against your dripping cunt. “Give me your pleasure, your first ever orgasm from a man who yearns for you…”
“Fuck, I𑁋Mingyu𑁋!”
Pleasure explodes through you like wildfire. A blissful cry of his name rips out of your throat, your back arching sharply off the bed as your walls clamp down tightly around his fingers. Your hips jerk against his face, riding the waves while he continues licking and sucking, drinking in every drop of your release.
He slows when your moans turn into soft, overstimulated whimpers and your thighs fall open in exhaustion. With one final kiss to your swollen folds, he withdraws his fingers and hovers back above you. His heart squeezes with pride when looks down at your flushed, trembling body.
“You are enchanting when you let go, my princess,” he says before kissing you deeply, and you taste yourself on his tongue. “I could spend the rest of my days between your legs and never tire.”
A subtle shift of his body has you feeling the heavy outline of his hardening cock through his breeches. Mingyu inhales sharply when you roll your hips against his once, his ears red with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.
“I… fuck𑁋we do not have to, sweetheart,” he mutters, though the way he’s involuntarily grinding on you says otherwise. “You have given me so much than I deserve tonight, and I would rather die than cause you pain.”
You cup his cheek tenderly, grazing over his cheekbone. A fresh wave of nerves and desire twists in your belly.
“I want to,” You whisper. “I ache for it, Mingyu. Please… make love to me.”
Something in him shatters at that, as if his last thread of restraint snaps into two. His eyes fall shut for a moment, nostrils flaring at your plea. When they open, his eyes have darkened with hunger, and he leans in to capture your lips with a kiss so deep it knocks the air out of your lungs. His large body pins you deeper into the bed, the heat of his bare chest searing against your skin.
Mingyu pulls away just long enough to shove his breeches down his thighs, kicking them away. Your eyes widen when his cock springs free𑁋thick and heavy, curled slightly with a glistening tip already leaking for you. It’s your first time ever seeing a man this undeniably aroused for you. He’s so beautiful and intimidating that you can’t help but just stare.
He notices your wide-eyed expression and lets out a shy, self-conscious chuckle.
“Have I frightened you?” he questions worriedly.
You shake your head. “No… You’re… big. I did not expect…” The words die on your tongue, but hungry curiosity sparkles in your eyes.
Tentatively, you reach down to touch his length, and his cock twitches harshly from your touch. He’s impossibly hard, the skin smooth and hot as you wrap your hand around him to stroke him experimentally from the base to the tip. A low, guttural groan rumbles from his chest.
“Shit…” he moans out, his hips jerking into your touch before realising it. “You do not have to𑁋fuck, your hand feels like magic𑁋”
You watch in awe as another bead of precum leaps from the tip. Emboldened, you swipe your thumb over it, spreading it down his shaft. Mingyu’s head falls forward into your shoulder, his breaths coming out in hot pants.
“Easy, my love,” he warns, catching your wrist and pinning it to the bed beside your head, your fingers lacing together. “If there is a next time, you may touch me as you please. But for now… I need to be inside you.”
Mingyu uses his other hand to guide his cock to your entrance, rubbing the flushed head along your soaked and sensitive folds. He doesn’t push inside just yet.
“Tell me again, princess,” he commands. “Tell me you want your knight to corrupt you.”
“I want you, please,” You plead longingly. “Make love to me. Fuck me. Claim me as yours.”
That’s all it takes.
With a groan, he starts pushing inside. His cock is much thicker and hotter than his fingers were. You gasp from the intense stretch, your nails digging crescents into his biceps as your body struggles to take him. He pauses to give you time to adjust before burying himself even more until he’s fully inside of you, whispering soothing praises and peppering your face with kisses to distract you from the discomfort.
“Gods above, I cannot believe… I am inside of you, my lady,” he mutters hoarsely. “So warm… so tight…”
When the burn eases away, you shift your hips into his and let out a small, needy whimper. That’s all the permission he needs.
Mingyu thrusts into you with a slow pace, dragging his cock along your sensitive walls. This was a dream that plagued him every night𑁋a dream of finally having you to himself and not those wretched princes, loving you the way you deserve, ruining you for any other man, even if it’s only for a single night. A night that he will cherish to his very grave.
His jaw clenches tightly as he tries to keep himself from losing control too fast, but it doesn’t help when your moans grace his ears like a symphony and the way your nails are raking red trails down his back spur him on even more.
“Mingyu𑁋ah𑁋faster, please𑁋”
“Faster?” he repeats breathlessly. “As you command, my princess.”
Bracing his strong arms at your sides, he snaps his hips deeper, harder, into you. The bed creaks under the force of his movements, the wet, filthy sounds of your bodies shamelessly meeting reverberating throughout your chambers that you are sure someone can hear if they passed too close to the door, but the thought only sends a forbidden thrill through you.
He swallows your moans with a devouring kiss as he continues to fuck you. One hand grips your thigh higher to hit that sensitive spot inside of you, and it sends that familiar pleasure to tighten in your stomach once again.
You embrace your arms around his neck. “I’m close, Mingyu𑁋”
“Gods𑁋fuck, me too,” he says into your sweat-slicked skin, but his pace starts faltering. “But I have to… shit, I have to slow down, princess𑁋I cannot cum inside of you. I cannot ruin your future…”
Mingyu starts to pull back, but you feel the strain in him, the way his body is refusing to comply with how he slows his thrusts. But you don’t let him stray away; instead, you tighten your arms around like a vice, keeping every thick inch of him sheathed inside your cunt.
“No, do not pull away,” You pant in his ears, fingers greedily threading into his damp hair. “I need you, Mingyu𑁋I do not care about the consequences. I choose this. I choose you. Fill me up, my loyal knight. I beg you…”
Something raw and possessive bursts out of him at your desperate pleas, his eyes flashing with overwhelming love and hunger. He curses lowly to himself, as if hoping the heavens won’t hear the sin he is about to commit, before driving back into you roughly, giving into everything he’s held back.
“You will damn us both… and yet I cannot deny you ever,” he pants into your neck. “Your knight obeys… always. Take me, my love𑁋cum for me. Now.”
Your second orgasm crashes into you harder than the first. Waves of ecstasy whiten your vision, your body arching off the bed as you clench around his cock one final time. The feeling of your release sends Mingyu over the edge completely. He buries himself inside of you, filling you to the brim with thick ropes of his heat. He grinds slow and deep through both of your orgasms, pushing every drop as far in you as possible.
Mingyu doesn’t pull out of you yet for several long moments. He cages your trembling form in his arms as if he’s afraid the world might tear you apart if he lets go. He presses kisses along the column of your throat and up to your jaw, then to your swollen lips, lingering a little longer than usual. Only then does he draw away to peer down at you with glassy, vulnerable eyes.
“I love you, my princess,” he confesses quietly. “I have loved you silently for years, since the first day I swore my oath to protect you. I have always adored your resilience, your beauty… among many other things.”
Your blink sleepily up at him, your heart swelling at his words.
“I love you too, Sir Mingyu,” You whisper back, nestling your nose against his. “I always knew that my heart belonged to you, too.”
A soft, boyish smile crosses his lips, the kind that always made your stomach flutter during daylight hours when no one was watching. After some time, he coaxes himself out of you with a grunt, a generous trickle of his release coating your thighs and the sheets beneath you. His gaze darkens at the sight, but he does not push for more.
He rolls himself onto his back and wraps his arms around your middle, letting your head rest on his broad chest. One of his hands soothingly traces shapes on your spine while the other brushes through your disheveled hair.
“Stay with me tonight,” You mutter into his skin. “Do not leave before dawn. I wish to wake up in your arms just once.”
“I will never abandon you, my love,” Mingyu assures you, tightening his hold on you. “But we must prepare ourselves for what the morning light will bring. If your parents find out𑁋”
“What if we run away together?”
Mingyu freezes at that. A shadow of conflict rises in his features, but there’s something else there too𑁋something dangerously close to hope.
“You cannot mean that, princess,” he tells you. “It is not so easy. You know that.”
“I do mean it,” You say back stubbornly. “I know I will never be forgiven for rejecting every prince at the ball. Gods, they will probably sell me off to the highest bidder by the end of the week. But I do not want a crown if it means being stuck in a loveless marriage. I want a life with you, Mingyu. A life where we can love freely and perhaps… build a family one day.”
He can imagine it so clearly: a life with the two of you in some hidden cottage in the mountains or a village by the sea, where he can wake up to your smile in the mornings and worship you into the depths of the night without fear or duty holding him back. A life with a little one𑁋or more, if you wish𑁋running around. A child who holds your tenacity and wields his softness.
“You tempt me more than any devil, my love,” he proclaims, nuzzling his face into your hair. “But running away now without a plan would put you in greater danger. If we do this… we must be smart. Find allies and gather belongings. Perhaps… in a few months time, when the storm of tonight has settled.”
You pout lightly. “So we wait?”
“For now,” he says, kissing the tip of your nose. “But know this𑁋I am yours. If you wish to run, I will follow you to the ends of the earth and lay down everything for a chance at a life with you. I promise you that.”
The weight of his promise settles warmly in your chest more than the exhaustion crawling through your bones. You rise in his hold to kiss him deeply and unhurriedly, before allowing him to hold you.
“Rest now,” Mingyu orders softly when you part, tucking you into his side once more. “The world is still asleep. Let me hold you while I can. Tomorrow we face the wolves… but tonight, you are simply mine as I am yours, my angel.”
