summary: she was a one night stand until he saved her life now they’re bound for eternity
warning: mentions of death and grief
genre: dark romance, supernatural, smut
pairing: prince of hell yunho x afab human reader
word count: 10.9k
chp 1
chp 3 coming soon
masterlist
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Hell did not have a sky. It had a ceiling so impossibly vast that even the oldest demons had long since stopped trying to determine where it ended. Rivers of molten crimson light wound through jagged mountains in the distance, casting an eternal twilight over the kingdom below. The towering spires of Hell City pierced upward like obsidian spears, their windows glowing with infernal fire while trains carved from black iron glided silently between districts suspended over bottomless chasms. It was beautiful in the same way a hurricane was beautiful. Powerful. Unforgiving. And ancient.
And at the very center of it all stood Pandemonium. The royal palace. Its black marble walls stretched for what seemed like miles, carved with stories older than written history itself. Towering columns disappeared into darkness overhead, while crimson banners bearing the royal sigil hung motionless despite the ever present wind that swept through the city beyond. Far inside the palace, beyond countless corridors and heavily guarded halls, sat the throne room and silence ruled there. No servants spoke above a whisper. Even the guards lining the chamber stood unnaturally still, their polished obsidian armor reflecting the crimson glow of the enormous braziers burning around the room.
At the far end, upon a throne carved from a single slab of volcanic stone, sat Lucifer. Time had never claimed him. Not truly. He wore the appearance of a man in his early fifties, the kind of face that had once been devastatingly handsome and somehow remained so despite the centuries. There was maturity in the lines around his eyes, wisdom etched into every expression, but no frailty. His silver hair contrasted sharply with the pair of massive horns rising from either side of his head. They were unlike any other demon’s. Long. Ridged. Sweeping backward in elegant curves. Something in between, a deep black red that seemed to absorb the firelight around them until they resembled cooled lava moments before it split open again.
The ancient depictions humans painted of Satan… had not been entirely inaccurate. One hand rested against the carved arm of his throne as amber eyes studied the soul ledger lying open across his lap and without looking up, he spoke. “Where is my son?” The heavy doors opened behind him as Seonghwa crossed the length of the throne room with measured steps before stopping several feet from the dais and bowed once. “Still topside, your majesty.” Lucifer finally lifted his gaze. “He was handling the bargain you requested.”
“He was.”
“He should be returning shortly.”
Lucifer continued watching him with no impatience in his expression. No anger. Only… thought. And after several long moments, he quietly closed the leather bound ledger resting across his knees. “If he is conducting a bargain…” His voice remained calm. “then tell me…” The temperature in the throne room seemed to drop. “why…” Lucifer slowly rose from the throne and the guards lining the chamber lowered their eyes instinctively. “is my son now bound?”
Seonghwa blinked, froze, because for the first time in centuries… his composure cracked. “Bound?” Lucifer didn’t answer. Instead, he descended the few steps leading away from the throne, stopping before a massive circular table carved from polished black stone. Upon its surface… an intricate map of infernal magic glowed faintly. Thousands upon thousands of tiny lights drifted across it. Souls. Contracts. Oaths. Covenants. And near the center… a new symbol burned brighter than all the rest. A horn interlocked with a feather. The Covenant Brand. Lucifer stared at it without blinking.
“He…” Seonghwa began carefully, “wasn’t the last time I saw him.”
Lucifer’s eyes never left the mark. “I know.”
“I left him in Los Angeles.”
“I know.”
“He was alone.”
“I know.” Lucifer looked at him. Not with fury. Not disappointment. But with something far more unsettling. Concern. “Then somewhere,” he said quietly, “between the bargain… and now…” His gaze drifted back toward the burning symbol. “my son chose someone over Fate.” The words echoed through the chamber and mo one dared breathe. Because everyone in that room understood exactly what the mark meant.
The Crown Prince of Hell… had broken the oldest law ever written.
Lucifer remained silent for several seconds before speaking again, his voice almost lost beneath the crackling braziers. “Prepare the Gate.”
Seonghwa straightened. “Your Majesty?”
Lucifer’s amber eyes never left the glowing horn and feather. “If the Covenant has witnessed… then sooner or later…” His expression hardened with quiet certainty. “my daughter in law will be coming home.”
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Her apartment felt impossibly small after everything that had happened. The old lock clicked behind them, shutting out the sirens just enough that the silence became almost oppressive. The familiar smell of detergent, old hardwood, and stale coffee lingered in the cramped living room but nothing had changed. And everything had changed.
Y/N dropped her purse beside the couch without thinking, letting it slide onto the worn carpet, spilling her keys across the floor. She didn’t bother picking them up. Instead, she slowly turned around as Yunho stood near the front door, looking strangely out of place inside the tiny apartment. His glamour had returned during the drive. To anyone else he appeared exactly as she remembered him from Saturday night. Silver hair. Black clothes. Unfairly handsome. But she knew better now. She’d seen what existed beneath the illusion. She’d seen the horns.
For nearly half an hour, he’d answered every question she’d managed to ask. Hell. Reapers. Demons. His father. The Covenant. The mark now resting permanently beneath the skin of both their wrists. Every answer had somehow raised three more questions as Y/N simply stared at him. Her expression remained unreadable for several long seconds before she let out a short, breathless laugh that sounded as though even she wasn’t sure where it had come from and shook her head. “You’re insane.”
The corner of Yunho’s mouth lifted despite everything. “I have horns that protrude out of my head,” he said, his voice carrying the dry amusement she’d first heard across a crowded dance floor two nights earlier, “and you find it hard to believe I’m the son of Satan?”
She blinked. “When you say it like that…”
“It feels fairly convincing.”
“No.” She pointed at him as though that somehow organized the impossible. “No, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make it sound… logical.”
A quiet chuckle escaped him. “I’m trying.”
“You’re failing.”
“I noticed.”
She began pacing without realizing it, crossing the short distance between the couch and the tiny kitchen before turning around again. Every few steps her eyes dropped to the black symbol branded into the inside of her wrist. It looked like a tattoo. Elegant. Permanent. And impossible. She rubbed at it with her thumb but nothing happened. So she rubbed harder. Still nothing. “It won’t come off,” Yunho said gently.
“I figured I’d try optimism first.”
“It’s infernal magic.”
“So… soap’s out?”
“I’m afraid so.”
She laughed again. But this time it sounded dangerously close to tears. “So let me make sure I’ve got this straight.” Yunho waited as she tried to wrap her head around everything. “You’re four hundred years old.”
“Correct.”
“Your father is literally the Devil.”
“Correct.”
“Hell is real.”
“Yes.”
“There are people whose entire job is collecting souls.”
“The Reapers.”
“And…” She looked down at the mark again, swallowing hard. “because you saved me…” She couldn’t quite force herself to finish so Yunho did it for her. “We’re bound.” Silence settled between them as outside, another helicopter thundered overhead and Y/N looked up at him, studying his face as though she might discover he’d been joking all along. Instead she found only exhaustion. The kind carried by someone who’d lived far too long. “You knew,” she said quietly. He frowned. “When you saved me….. you knew what would happen.”
He didn’t answer right away. He didn’t need to because his silence told her everything and a knot formed in her chest. “And… you still did it.” Yunho nodded once. “I did.” She stared at him, unable to reconcile the man she’d spent Saturday night with against the impossible truth standing in her living room now. Then another memory forced its way to the surface. Tiffany and the warmth drained from her face. “I left her.” Her voice was barely audible. “I left Tiffany.”
“You didn’t.”
“I ran.”
“The building was collapsing.”
“I ran.”
“You survived.”
“I wasn’t supposed to survive alone.”
The words broke somewhere near the end and she wrapped both arms around herself, turning away as tears finally spilled onto her cheeks. “I should’ve grabbed her. I should’ve… I don’t know…” She laughed bitterly through the tears. “Done something.” Yunho watched her in silence for a long moment before quietly crossing the room. He stopped beside her, leaving enough space that she could step away if she wanted. “I’ve lived a very long time,” he said softly. “Long enough to know survivors almost always invent impossible versions of the past.” She didn’t look at him. “You imagine one more second.” Her shoulders trembled. “One different decision.” She closed her eyes. “One miracle that would’ve changed everything.” A long silence stretched between them before he finished quietly, “It doesn’t mean those miracles ever existed.”
There was no arrogance in his expression. No royal confidence. Only someone who sounded as though he’d spent centuries carrying ghosts of his own. Her gaze lingered there for a moment before drifting once more to the feather branded on his wrist. “Why me?” It was barely more than a whisper. “Out of everyone in that building…” she asked, “all the centuries…. why did you save me?”
Yunho looked down at the matching mark on his own arm, thumb brushing over the feather absentmindedly. When he finally answered, his voice was almost lost beneath the distant wail of another ambulance. “I’ve been asking myself the same question ever since.” The apartment fell quiet again as the muffled pulse of sirens still filtered through the thin walls and another helicopter passed somewhere overhead, its rotors rattling the old windows just enough to make the glass tremble in its frame. The city was still in the middle of a catastrophe.
Y/N leaned back against the edge of the kitchen counter, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the strange black horn tattooed over her pulse. She still hadn’t accepted that it wasn’t ink. Every few seconds she’d catch herself rubbing at it again, hoping this time it might somehow smear beneath her thumb but it never did. Yunho stood several feet away, his gaze lingering on her longer than he realized. Then…. his entire body went rigid. It wasn’t physical. It wasn’t pain. It was older than that. Something invisible wrapped itself around his soul like an iron chain. A single pull. Gentle. Yet unmistakable.
His father. Lucifer wasn’t speaking. He didn’t need to. The summons traveled through blood itself and Yunho’s expression darkened immediately. “Shit.” Y/N looked up. “What?” He didn’t answer right away as the pull came again. Stronger this time and his jaw tightened. “We have to go.” She frowned, brows furrowing. “Go where?” He looked at her as though the answer couldn’t possibly be anything else. “You know…” He gestured vaguely downward with one finger. “Downstairs.”
She stared at him blankly before her eyes widened. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Afraid so.”
Her head shook immediately. “I am not going to Hell with you.”
“You kind of have to.”
“I absolutely do not.”
“The Covenant would disagree.”
“I don’t care what the Covenant thinks!”
“It tends not to care what any of us think.”
She pushed away from the counter. “I’m staying right here.”
“You can’t.”
“Watch me.”
“I’d rather not.”
“You don’t get to just…” She threw both hands into the air. “kidnap me into the underworld!”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Oh, well that’s comforting.”
“But…”
The invisible pull slammed into him again and this time there was nothing gentle about it. Yunho staggered half a step, eyes flashing black. “He’s done asking.” Before Y/N could respond…. the force caught her too. Not the summons. The Covenant. The Brand around her wrist ignited like molten iron and she gasped, grabbing at it instinctively. “What is….” Black fire erupted around Yunho’s feet. Not ordinary flames. These burned without heat, curling upward in ribbons of smoke and crimson embers as reality itself began folding inward around them.
The apartment lights flickered violently as every shadow in the room stretched impossibly long and Y/N backed away. “Yunho?” He was already moving. “We don’t really have a choice.”
“What do you mean we don’t have…”
He reached her in two long strides, one arm wrapping firmly around her waist before she could retreat another step and she instinctively grabbed his jacket as the black flames surged and the walls around them blurred. The living room distorted as though someone had dropped a stone into reality itself and Y/N’s stomach lurched. “No, no, no….” The world disappeared. Fire swallowed everything. Not burning. Consuming. The apartment. The windows. The city. Every sound vanished beneath the roar of infernal flames until there was nothing left but darkness streaked with crimson light. And for one impossible heartbeat, there was no up. No down. No air. Only falling. Then… solid ground.
Y/N stumbled forward, nearly losing her balance before Yunho steadied her. The first thing she noticed was the silence. Not peaceful silence but heavy silence. The second… was the smell. Smoke. Stone. Something metallic lingering beneath both and slowly… she opened her eyes and her breath caught. Gone was the cramped apartment with its peeling paint and crooked cabinets. Instead she stood inside a chamber so vast her mind struggled to comprehend its scale. Towering black columns disappeared into darkness hundreds of feet overhead. Braziers the size of small houses burned with crimson fire, casting dancing shadows across polished obsidian floors that reflected everything like black glass.
And at the far end of the room… upon a raised dais… sat a throne carved from a single mountain of volcanic stone. And it was occupied. Around the chamber stood rows of armored demons, motionless as statues, their eyes fixed entirely on the two unexpected arrivals. Every one of them had seen the brand. Every one of them had recognized what it meant. Y/N swallowed as she very slowly let her eyes travel upward. Past the polished black boots. Past the tailored dark suit. Past the powerful frame. Until they met the face of the man seated upon the throne. A face both handsome and impossibly commanding. Much like his sons. And rising from either side of his head…. massive horns like cooled lava carved into a crown. His eyes rested first on Yunho, then… on Y/N.
The faintest hint of amusement flickered across his features before disappearing beneath ancient royal composure. Y/N’s fingers slowly tightened around Yunho’s sleeve and without aking her eyes off the throne, she whispered, “Please tell me that’s not your dad.” Yunho let out the smallest, most resigned sigh. “Afraid it is.”
Lucifer rose from the obsidian throne with unhurried grace and the movement alone seemed to alter the room. The torches lining the towering pillars burned brighter, their crimson flames bowing as though acknowledging their king. Even the demons standing guard along the walls lowered their gazes and Yunho felt himself straighten as his father rarely stood for anyone. Lucifer descended the black stone steps one at a time, the sound of polished boots striking ancient rock echoing through the cavernous hall, eyes never leaving Y/N.
She fought every instinct telling her to step backward. Instead, she held her ground and that seemed to amuse him. When he finally stopped in front of her, he towered over her, his presence impossibly heavy. Up close, he looked less like the monster from religious paintings and more like something infinitely older. Beautiful in a way that made your instincts scream to run. He studied her in silence. Not just her face. Her posture. Her heartbeat. Her soul. And a slow smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Four hundred years…” he murmured, almost to himself, voice rolling through the chamber like distant thunder. “My son has never slipped.”
Yunho’s jaw tightened. “Father…” Lucifer ignored him and raised a hand between them. Before Y/N could react, cool fingers settled beneath her chin, tilting her face upward. It wasn’t painful. If anything, the gesture was strangely gentle. Which somehow made it far more unnerving. His eyes searched hers with unsettling intensity. “I see why, though.” Silence stretched between them for a moment. “You don’t cower.” His thumb shifted slightly against her jaw as he continued observing her expression. “You’ve every reason to fear me.” A faint smile touched Y/N’s lips despite the hammering of her heart. “I’m beginning to think fear isn’t very useful down here.”
For a moment… nothing happened. Then, unexpectedly, Lucifer laughed. It was rich and genuine, the sound rolling through the throne room with enough force that several demons visibly winced. “My son certainly chooses interesting company to spend eternity with.” He released her chin and turned his head slightly toward Yunho. “I expected frightened mortal.” His gaze flicked back to Y/N. “Instead…” He smiled knowingly. “You answer the Devil with wit.” Yunho finally exhaled as his father’s eyes settled on him. “For four centuries, you have carried out every command without hesitation. And now…” The faintest hint of amusement returned. “you arrive late because you were busy explaining yourself to a human.” Around the room, a few demons exchanged wary glances as Lucifer’s smile widened. “It seems Hell has finally found something capable of stealing my son’s attention and keeping him home.” The throne room went impossibly still once again. Not one of the armored guards shifted their weight. Not one servant whispered. Even the enormous crimson braziers lining the chamber seemed to burn in respectful silence as Lucifer continued studying the pair. His gaze lingered on the matching brands as his voice carried effortlessly through the cavernous hall. “Seonghwa.”
There was no need to raise it. The command itself seemed to ripple through the palace. A pair of towering obsidian doors groaned open somewhere behind them, and measured footsteps echoed across the polished floor. Seonghwa entered with his usual composed elegance, though the moment his eyes landed on Yunho’s wrist… then Y/N’s… the smallest crack appeared in his otherwise flawless composure. “Your Majesty.” He bowed as Lucifer folded one hand over the carved arm of his throne, looking almost… pleased. “The binding ceremony will be held later.” Yunho’s head snapped up as Lucifer continued as though discussing the evening’s dinner plans. “It’s already being put together.” A muscle jumped in Yunho’s jaw. “Already?”
Lucifer looked at him with mild amusement. “My son.” He spread one hand toward the immense palace surrounding them. “This kingdom has existed….. well…. forever.” Another faint smile crossed his face. “You think this is our first Covenant?” Yunho exhaled sharply through his nose, somewhere between annoyance and reluctant acceptance. “I was hoping bureaucracy had slowed you down.”
“It rarely does.”
Y/N’s head turned back and forth between them like she was watching a tennis match where everyone except her understood the rules. “Hold on.” Nobody stopped talking. “No.” Still nothing so she took one step forward. “No, seriously.” Three pairs of ancient eyes turned toward her. “What do you mean…” She pointed between Yunho and Lucifer. “it’s already being put together?” Lucifer regarded her with surprising patience. “The ceremony.”
“What ceremony?”
“The binding ceremony.”
Her brow furrowed as she looked toward Yunho then Seonghwa. Then back to Lucifer. “Binding ceremony?” She had no idea of course what that was and Lucifer smiled. A sinister yet, almost fatherly kind of smile. “My dear…” He rested his chin lightly against one hand. “your wedding, of course.” Y/N blinked once. Then again. “My… What?”
“Your wedding.”
She stared at him as Lucifer continued calmly, “The Covenant has already acknowledged the union. The ceremony merely formalizes it before Hell.” Y/N slowly turned toward Yunho. “You…” He already looked exhausted. “knew about this to?”
“I knew there would probably be a ceremony.”
“Probably?”
“I was… hoping there wouldn’t be.”
She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You left out a wedding!”
“I left out several things.”
“Several?”
Seonghwa, wisely, kept his eyes fixed somewhere above both of their heads. Lucifer, meanwhile, appeared thoroughly entertained as Y/N looked back toward the throne. “I am not marrying him.” Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “You already have.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“The Covenant disagrees.”
“I don’t care what the Covenant thinks!”
A few of the guards subtly looked away. Not because she’d spoken out of turn. But because nobody had spoken to Lucifer’s like that in quite some time, the devil himself only looking amused as he turned to Seonghwa. “See that everything is prepared.” Seonghwa inclined his head. “At once, Your Majesty.” He turned to leave before pausing, waiting with the quiet patience of someone who had served the royal family long enough to know Lucifer rarely gave only one instruction and of course, the devil’s eyes shifted past his son, settling instead on the bewildered young woman standing beside him. “Take Y/N to the west wing,” he said, his tone calm, almost conversational. “There are attendants already waiting. She’ll require appropriate attire before the ceremony.”
Y/N looked toward Yunho but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Seonghwa. “You’re taking her alone?” Seonghwa met his gaze evenly. “Unless His Majesty has changed his mind.” Lucifer hadn’t and Yunho’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “She doesn’t know this place.”
“No,” Lucifer replied mildly. “She doesn’t.”
“She doesn’t know anyone.”
“No.”
“She shouldn’t be wandering Hell by herself.”
A slow smile tugged at Lucifer’s mouth. “There it is.” Yunho frowned. “There what is?”
“The concern.”
“There are thousands of demons outside these walls.”
“There are.”
“She has no idea how this world works.”
“She doesn’t.”
“So forgive me for not wanting her walking through it without me.”
Lucifer’s smile widened ever so slightly, enough that Seonghwa wisely lowered his eyes to hide the faint amusement threatening to show. “My son,” Lucifer said, leaning back against the throne with effortless composure, “Pandemonium is the safest place in the kingdom. You know that.”
“For demons.”
“For my future daughter in law as well.”
Yunho didn’t look convinced. “She’ll be fine,” Seonghwa added quietly. “No one within these walls would dare lay a hand on her.” It wasn’t reassurance. It was fact. Yunho held Seonghwa’s gaze for another moment before finally exhaling. “Fine.” Y/N looked between the three of them. “So… I’m just supposed to go with him?” Lucifer answered before Yunho could. “Yes.” She hesitated, then glanced once more toward Yunho. Despite everything she’d learned in the last hour, despite the impossible palace surrounding her, she found herself oddly reassured by the simple nod he gave her. “Go,” he said. “I’ll find you later.”
She studied him for another second before reluctantly stepping toward Seonghwa. “Well…” she muttered under her breath, trying to inject a little humor into a day that had steadily abandoned all reason. “Lead the way, I guess.” Seonghwa inclined his head with the faintest hint of a smile. “This way.” The enormous doors opened once more and within moments, the echo of their footsteps faded into the endless corridors beyond, leaving father and son alone beneath the vaulted ceiling of the throne room. The silence lingered as Lucifer watched the doors close. And only then did he speak. “You’ve bread her.” A long sigh escaped Yunho. “Dad….” Lucifer’s gaze drifted toward him unreadably calm. “I can smell you inside her.”
Yunho closed his eyes for the briefest moment. There were certain disadvantages to demonic senses. This was one of them. Lucifer continued, neither judgmental nor mocking, merely stating what was obvious to him. “That happened before today?”
“Yes.”
“Before the Covenant.”
“Yes.”
Another thoughtful pause settled between them before Lucifer asked, with the same measured curiosity one might use discussing military strategy, “Is that why you saved her?” Yunho looked up sharply. “What?”
“You’ve known countless humans over four centuries.”
“I know.”
“You’ve obeyed the Covenant without exception.”
“I know.”
“And yet…” Lucifer folded his hands behind his back. “Two days after meeting one woman, you chose to break the oldest law in our kingdom.” His eyes remained fixed on his son. “Why?” Yunho’s expression hardened. “I don’t know.”
“No?”
“No.”
Lucifer regarded him for a long moment. Then, with the faintest trace of dry humor touching his voice, he said, “She must have been very good.” Yunho shot him a look that would have silenced almost anyone else in Hell but Lucifer, unsurprisingly, remained unfazed. “I’ve never seen you hesitate over Fate before,” he continued. “So either something extraordinary happened…” He let the thought hang for a beat. “or you got dumb over pussy.” Yunho’s gaze drifted toward the closed doors through which Y/N had disappeared, his father’s degraded words hitting him like a slap to the face. When he finally answered, his voice had lost its irritation. “I didn’t think.”
“No.”
“I heard her scream…” His jaw tightened. “and by the time I realized what I was doing… The Covenant had already witnessed.” Lucifer studied his son in silence. After centuries of watching him carry duty above all else, the answer wasn’t as surprising as it should have been. For the first time in four hundred years Yunho hadn’t acted like the Crown Prince of Hell. He’d acted like a man. Lucifer turned away and once again descended the steps from the throne without hurry, the polished obsidian floor reflecting the crimson firelight beneath his boots. His hands folded neatly behind his back as he wandered toward the towering windows overlooking Hell City, where black trains glided silently between skyscrapers and rivers of molten light carved through the kingdom below. When he finally spoke again, his tone was almost conversational. “So.”
Yunho frowned. “So?”
Lucifer kept his eyes on the city. “Will you kill her now…” The words hit like a blade. “or after the wedding?” Yunho froze with genuine alarm crossing his face as Lucifer slowly looked back over one shoulder. “You know exactly what I’m asking.” Of course he did. The hidden clause. The part of the Covenant every demon learned before they were ever permitted to walk among humans. The Brand bound the soul. But immortality… it only awakened through death. Y/N would continue aging. Every year pulling her farther away from the woman she’d been the moment he’d chosen her over fate. Unless… “No.” The answer came flat and certain.
Lucifer studied his son. “No?”
“I’m not killing her.”
His father regarded him for a long moment before continuing his slow walk through the chamber. “She will be yours for eternity.”
“I know.”
“The Covenant has guaranteed that.”
“I know.”
“Preferably…” Lucifer said, his voice carrying the detached practicality of someone discussing state affairs rather than a human life, “you do it before she grows too old.” Yunho’s jaw clenched so tightly it ached. “She’s twenty four.”
“Exactly.”
“She’s alive.”
“For now.”
Yunho took a step forward. “I’m not discussing this.” Lucifer stopped walking and turned fully to face his son. “You misunderstand me.”
“Do I?”
“I’m not instructing you.”
“No?”
“I’m reminding you.” His eyes settled calmly on Yunho. “The longer you wait… the older she’ll become. And when her mortal life finally ends…” His gaze sharpened just enough to be noticed. “that is the face she’ll wear forever.” The truth of it settled heavily between them. If Y/N died at twenty four… She would awaken in Hell forever twenty four. If she died at eighty six….” she would awaken forever eighty six. The Covenant did not restore youth. Yunho looked away. He hated that part of the law. Always had. Lucifer watched him in silence before the faintest trace of something darker crept into his expression. Not anger. Not amusement. Simply the reminder that, despite everything else… he was still the Devil. “Or…” His voice remained deceptively gentle. “did you not tell her that either?”
The words landed with quiet precision and Yunho’s silence answered for him making Lucifer’s eyebrows lift. “I thought not.”
“I’ve had other things to explain.”
“Understandably.”
“She watched someone die less than a couple hours ago.”
“I am aware.”
“She just learned Hell exists.”
“I am aware.”
“And you wanted me to add…” Yunho laughed once, bitterly. “‘By the way, one day you’ll have to die if you’re ever going to become immortal?’” Lucifer didn’t flinch. “It would have been honest.”
“It would’ve been cruel.”
For the first time in the conversation, Lucifer’s expression hardened. “Cruel?” He repeated the word as though tasting it. “My son…” His gaze drifted toward the enormous doors through which Y/N had disappeared. “She became part of our world the moment you chose her. The truth does not become less true because it is uncomfortable.”
Yunho met his father’s eyes. “No. But she deserves one day,” he said quietly, “where she isn’t terrified.” Lucifer regarded him for several seconds. Then, almost surprisingly, the hardness left his features and he gave the smallest nod. “Very well. I won’t tell her.” The relief was subtle, but it crossed Yunho’s face nonetheless and Lucifer noticed. Of course he did. “I said I won’t.” The corner of his mouth curved into the faintest, devilish smile. “Eventually, however…” His eyes flicked briefly to the feather branded on Yunho’s wrist. “you will.” Because no matter how much Yunho wanted to protect her from that truth… It wasn’t a secret he could keep forever.
One day, Y/N would have to choose how to face the future the Covenant had written for her. And when that day came, the Prince of Hell knew she’d never forgive him if the revelation came from anyone but him.
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The corridors beyond the throne room felt less like the palace of monsters and more like the capital of an empire as Y/N followed half a step behind Seonghwa, too overwhelmed to ask any more questions. Her mind had simply… stopped trying. Every answer she’d received today had only opened the door to something even more impossible, and now her thoughts drifted somewhere between numbness and disbelief.
Hell was alive. Not in the way she’d imagined. There were no endless screams echoing through fire. No demons dragging chains behind them. Instead, polished obsidian hallways stretched endlessly beneath vaulted ceilings where chandeliers forged from black crystal cast warm crimson light across marble floors. Demons hurried past carrying stacks of parchment, garment bags, trays of flowers darker than midnight, bolts of shimmering fabric, and armfuls of gold decorations. Somewhere farther down the corridor, musicians tuned unfamiliar string instruments while servants argued over seating arrangements with the kind of urgency usually reserved for royal events. Because… she supposed… this was a royal event.
“The Prince is finally marrying.”
“I heard she arrived from up top.”
“They say she’s human.”
“Impossible.”
“No, the Covenant witnessed.”
Their whispers followed her through the palace. Some stared openly. Others bowed as she passed. A few smiled politely. One elderly demoness actually dabbed tears from the corners of her eyes before being gently ushered along by another servant. Y/N slowed. “They’re…” She searched for the right word. “happy?” Seonghwa glanced toward her without breaking stride. “The Prince has remained unmarried for four centuries.”
“And that’s… exciting?”
“For many.” He rounded another corner. “Your arrival has become the only thing anyone is discussing.”
“I’d rather they didn’t.”
“I’m afraid that ship has sailed.”
She let out a weak laugh. “I don’t even know what that means anymore.”
“It means,” Seonghwa replied with the faintest hint of humor, “you’re about three hours too late to avoid becoming front page news.” Y/N groaned. “I hate this place.”
“No, you don’t.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You hate the situation.” He finally stopped before a pair of enormous double doors carved with intricate infernal runes. “The place… you’ll eventually learn.” The doors swung inward and the room beyond stole what little breath she had left. It was enormous. One entire wall consisted of towering mirrors framed in black gold. Another was lined floor to ceiling with wardrobes overflowing with gowns in every imaginable shade of crimson, black, silver and deep emerald. Dozens of attendants moved through the room with practiced efficiency, laying out jewelry, adjusting candles, arranging flowers that shimmered like polished rubies beneath the infernal light.
The moment Y/N entered everything topped. Every eye turned toward her. Then, almost simultaneously, every attendant bowed. “Your Highness.” Y/N looked over both shoulders. “Who?” One of the women smiled warmly. “You.” Y/N pointed to herself. “I work at a nightclub.”
“You are betrothed to the Crown Prince.”
“I was a bartender… like… four hours ago.”
“Things change quickly.”
“No kidding.” Before she could protest further, several attendants disappeared into an adjoining room and when they returned… they carried a garment bag unlike anything she’d ever seen, carefully unzipping it and pulling out the dress inch by inch. Deep wine red satin caught the firelight like liquid garnets, cascading in elegant folds that seemed to ripple with every movement. Delicate gold chains draped across the bodice and traced the open sides, each one threaded with tiny crimson gemstones that sparkled as though they held embers inside them. The skirt swept into a dramatic train, its high slit revealing layers of sheer fabric embroidered with intricate metallic vines. The back was almost entirely open, connected only by graceful strands of jeweled chains that glimmered like constellations against the rich crimson silk. It wasn’t simply beautiful. It looked…. royal. Like something designed for a queen standing beside a throne.
Y/N’s heartbeat slowed as one attendant carefully lifted the dress higher for her to see and another approached carrying matching gold heels adorned with crimson stones as someone else laid out a necklace worthy of a museum. Nobody spoke. Nobody rushed her. They simply waited as Y/N stared. Her reflection in the towering mirror looked impossibly small standing before something so magnificent. Her throat tightened. Just that morning…. she’d oken up late in a tiny apartment. Gone to lunch with Tiffany. Complained about overpriced fries. Wondered if she’d ever see the gorgeous silver haired stranger from Saturday night again.
Now… she stood in the middle of Hell. Surrounded by demons. About to put on a wedding dress. To marry the Devil’s son. The thought finally broke through every wall she’d been unconsciously holding together and her knees weakened. She reached blindly for the back of a nearby chair before sinking into it, one hand covering her mouth as the other found the horn branded onto her wrist and her eyes burned. In a voice barely louder than a whisper, she looked at no one in particular and asked, “How did my life become this in two days?”
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Yunho’s chambers occupied the highest tower of Pandemonium. The room itself was less a bedroom and more a private residence built into the palace. Towering arched windows overlooked the endless lights of Hell City, where rivers of molten crimson wound between districts of obsidian towers and impossible architecture. A grand fireplace burned with black flames that gave off warmth but no smoke. Shelves filled with centuries of books lined one wall, while another displayed relics collected for over four hundred years walking both Hell and Earth. Normally, the room grounded him. Tonight… it felt like a prison.
The jacket lay perfectly across his shoulders. Deep crimson embroidery climbed over black fabric like vines growing through midnight, every thread catching the firelight as though woven from embers themselves. Beneath it, the tailored black shirt and narrow tie were immaculate, every button fastened by attendants who had dressed him with the same precision reserved for coronations. It was exactly what the Crown Prince of Hell should wear to his wedding. And he hated it.
Yunho stood beside the windows with a crystal tumbler in one hand, amber liquor swirling lazily inside as he stared out over the city without truly seeing it. The glass was nearly empty but he hadn’t tasted a drop as a knock sounded against the chamber doors. “Leave it.” The servant on the other side hesitated before quietly answering, “Your Highness… the musicians have begun rehearsing.”
“I heard you.”
“Very good, Your Highness.” Footsteps retreated and the silence returned as Yunho drained the whiskey anyway. The burn was familiar. Comfortingly so. With a flick of his wrist, the empty glass floated across the room and landed gently on a nearby table before another bottle uncorked itself, dark liquid pouring neatly into a fresh tumbler without anyone touching it and he laughed once under his breath. “I’ve officially become my father.” The joke fell flat as his eyes wandered to the inside of his wrist. The feather rested there in stark black ink. Permanent and unchanging. Bound. His thumb brushed over it absentmindedly as his mind betrayed him.
It wandered back to Saturday night. Rain against old apartment windows. The smell of cheap laundry detergent. Her laugh. Her moans. Then… the words he’d spoken without thinking. “I’m gonna have to have you again… and again… and again…” He shut his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” At the time it had been reckless. Nothing more. One night. One human. He’d fully expected to disappear before sunrise and never think about her again. Instead… those words had become prophecy. Not because he’d wished for it. But because Fate had laughed.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Not for another night. Not for another month. But for eternity. The realization settled heavier than it had in the throne room. Eternity. He’d thrown the word around carelessly for four hundred years because it had always belonged to him. Now… his eternity elonged to someone else too. Someone who’d woken up this morning worried about paying rent probably. Someone whose biggest concern had been whether Tiffany would ever stop teasing her. Someone who’d watched her friend die. And in the space of a single afternoon… she’d earned Hell existed. She’d been told she was marrying the Devil’s son.
And, though she didn’t know it yet…one day, if the Covenant was to be fulfilled completely, she would die. Yunho’s jaw tightened. His father had spoken about it with the detached practicality of a king discussing succession. “No.” He wasn’t thinking about the Covenant. Or tradition. Or immortality. He was thinking about the woman currently somewhere else in the palace, probably wondering if she’d finally lost her mind. She’d looked terrified. Confused. Completely out of her depth. And somehow… he’d been the only familiar face in Hell. The thought made his chest feel strangely tight as he poured another drink.
He looked at his reflection in the window. Silver hair. The crimson and black ceremonial coat. His glamour shimmered for only a heartbeat before slipping completely away. Glossy black horns curved from either side of his head, framing a face that suddenly looked much older than four hundred years. He barely recognized the man staring back as somewhere beyond his chamber doors, bells began to ring throughout Pandemonium. One by one. Across the city below, lights bloomed in every district. The news had spread and The Crown Prince’s wedding was about to begin.
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Y/N stood alone before the towering mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back. The gown clung to her like liquid wine. She looked… beautiful. Like she belonged in a palace. Which somehow made everything worse. Because she didn’t belong here. Her fingers drifted unconsciously to the horn branded inside her wrist again. Still there. Still real. Still impossible. “I’m really in Hell…” The words escaped as little more than a whisper to her own reflection. “I’m really…” She swallowed. “getting married.” The sentence felt absurd spoken aloud as a soft knock sounded against the open doorway.
Y/N didn’t move. She couldn’t as behind her, Seonghwa regarded the finished scene for a long moment before giving a small nod of approval. “The attendants have done well.” She caught his reflection in the mirror. “I look like someone else.”
“You look,” he answered quietly, “exactly as the future Princess of Hell should.” She laughed but it lacked any real humor and Seonghwa offered the smallest, almost apologetic smile. “It is time.” Her chest tightened. Time. The word somehow made everything feel suddenly real. She slowly turned away from the mirror. “Already?”
“I’m afraid so.” Before either of them could say another word the chamber doors opened once more and every attendant immediately lowered their heads. The room became still as Lucifer entered without ceremony. He wore black. Simple compared to the grandeur surrounding him, yet somehow more commanding because of it. His molten horns framed a face that carried centuries of authority with effortless ease, while amber eyes settled first upon Seonghwa… then upon Y/N. For several long moments he simply looked at her. “My son,” he murmured almost to himself, “has always had excellent taste.”
Y/N wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. “Thank you?” Lucifer chuckled softly. “It suits you.” She glanced down at the dress. “It feels…”
“Heavy?”
She looked back up. “Yeah.”
“It often does.” He crossed the room with measured steps before stopping beside her. And when he spoke again, his voice had lost the teasing edge it usually carried. “The ceremony is ready.” No one moved as Lucifer extended one arm toward her. “If you would allow me…” His smile returned, gentler this time. “I would be honored to walk my daughter in law down the aisle.” Y/N stared at the offered arm. The Devil. Offering to escort her to her own wedding. Nothing about today would ever stop sounding insane. Seonghwa stepped forward then, carrying something she hadn’t noticed resting on the nearby dressing table. A bouquet of black roses. Their petals were so dark they seemed to drink in the crimson light surrounding them. Tiny crimson blossoms had been woven between the larger flowers, while vines of black ivy curled gracefully around silver stems wrapped in satin ribbon the same deep wine color as her dress.
Seonghwa carefully placed the bouquet into her hands. “They bloom only in Hell.” Y/N looked down at them. They were strangely beautiful. Beautiful in the same unsettling way everything else in this kingdom seemed to be. She took one slow breath. Then another. This couldn’t possibly be happening. And yet… the bouquet felt real in her hands. The dress was real against her skin. The brand rested beneath her wrist. The Devil still patiently held out his arm. Finally… moving lmost entirely on instinct… Y/N slipped her arm through Lucifer’s and his posture adjusted to match her pace, steady and composed, offering the quiet support of someone who had escorted royalty into ceremonies countless times before.
The enormous chamber doors swung open and beyond them, somewhere deep within Pandemonium… the music began.
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The Great Hall of Pandemonium had been transformed. Where there had once been an austere chamber reserved for royal decrees and state affairs now stood thousands upon thousands of flickering black candles, their flames burning crimson instead of gold. Massive pillars of obsidian disappeared into the darkness overhead, each wrapped in vines that bloomed with roses the color of dried blood. Long banners bearing the royal crest hung between them, while balconies carved into the surrounding walls overflowed with the citizens of Hell. Demons of every rank had gathered. Nobles draped in impossibly tailored black. Ancient generals wearing armor scarred by wars humanity had never recorded. Merchants. Scholars. Servants. Even damned celebrities. Creatures whose names had been forgotten by Earth centuries ago. The entire kingdom had come to witness what many believed they never would. The Crown Prince was marrying.
At the end of the endless aisle stood Yunho. The ceremonial coat fit him like it had been made from shadow itself. Black fabric flowed nearly to the floor, its deep crimson embroidery winding across the shoulders and sleeves like living fire trapped beneath silk. His silver hair had been brushed back just enough to reveal more of his face, though several loose strands still fell naturally across his forehead. His horns caught the crimson candlelight as though carved from polished volcanic glass. Normally… he stood before armies without the slightest tremor. Today… his hands were folded behind his back for one reason. To hide the fact that they wouldn’t stay completely still.
“You look nervous.” The voice came from directly across from him and Yunho lifted his eyes. Standing before the altar was the same Reaper who had stood outside the restaurant in Los Angeles only hours earlier. Her robes remained as dark as the space between stars, untouched by the light surrounding her. The obsidian handle of her scythe rested quietly beside her, its blade reflecting crimson fire as though forged from moonlight itself. Unlike priests… Unlike judges… Every binding born from a stolen fate was witnessed by Death. Every Covenant was sealed by a Reaper. She regarded Yunho with the same unreadable calm she’d worn since the earthquake.
“I’ve faced dragons,” Yunho muttered under his breath.
“I know.”
“I’ve negotiated peace treaties.”
“I know.”
“I once convinced an entire coven of witches not to curse Father’s palace.”
“I remember.”
He exhaled slowly. “I’ve never been married.”
“No. And it shows.”
Yunho shot her a look. “I like you less now.”
“I know.”
Before either could continue, the great doors at the opposite end of the hall groaned open and every conversation ceased as hundreds of heads turned at once. The musicians, hidden somewhere high among the balconies, drew their bows across unfamiliar strings. A low, haunting melody filled the hall as Yunho looked up and the world… simply stopped. Lucifer entered first. Tall. Commanding. Every inch the King of Hell. One arm rested naturally beneath Y/N’s as he guided her into the hall with slow, measured steps.
But Yunho barely registered his father. Because beside him… the deep wine red gown shimmered beneath the candlelight like liquid garnets flowing with every graceful step. Gold chains traced elegant paths over her shoulders and waist, catching the crimson glow until she seemed almost surrounded by tiny stars. The train drifted behind her across the polished black floor, while the bouquet of black roses rested gently in her hands. Her hair had been swept into an elegant style that exposed the curve of her neck, loose strands framing a face that still carried traces of uncertainty despite everything. She looked… Impossible. Not because of the dress. Not because of the palace. Because she was still… her. The same woman who had rolled her eyes at him across a crowded nightclub. The same woman who’d laughed when he’d teased her. The same woman who’d told him to “go to hell” without realizing who she’d been talking to.
He forgot about the crowd. Forgot about the ceremony. Forgot about Hell itself. There was only her as Y/N looked up and their eyes met. And for the briefest moment, the overwhelming hall seemed to disappear around them. She looked terrified. Completely overwhelmed. But the instant she found Yunho standing at the end of the aisle… something in her expression softened. Not much but just enough that he noticed. Enough that, despite everything unraveling around them, she seemed just a little less alone. Lucifer noticed it too and without taking his eyes off the aisle ahead, the Devil smiled to himself. Then, in a voice so quiet only Y/N could hear, he murmured, “There he is. My son…. the moment you appeared…” A faint chuckle escaped him. “he forgot there was anyone else in the room.”
Y/N’s eyes drifted back to Yunho. He hadn’t looked away once. Not for a single step of the walk as the music faded into silence and only the echo of footsteps remained. Lucifer guided Y/N the final few feet until they stood before the ancient altar, a single slab of polished obsidian veined with crimson that pulsed faintly from within as though the stone itself possessed a heartbeat. The candles surrounding it burned without wavering, despite the unseen currents that swept through the enormous hall. For the first time since entering the chamber, Y/N allowed herself to look fully at Yunho. Really look.
He had changed. Not physically other than his horns permanently on display now. She already knew the silver haired man she’d met on Earth wasn’t entirely who he’d appeared to be. It was the way he carried himself. Gone was the relaxed confidence she’d seen in the nightclub, the teasing smile that had lingered after every sarcastic remark she’d thrown his way when he first started flirting with her. Standing before her now was the Crown Prince of Hell. Straight backed. Composed. His black horns framed his face like an ancient crown, while the crimson embroidery across his ceremonial coat caught the infernal light every time he breathed. And yet… the moment their eyes met again… that prince disappeared. There was only Yunho again. Only the man who had laughed with her over overpriced drinks. Only the man who had followed her home through the rain and lost himself with her for a fleeting moment. Only the man who had chosen her over Fate itself.
Lucifer noticed and the faintest smile touched his lips before he turned toward his son and he reached for Y/N’s hand. Her fingers trembled as Lucifer placed her hand into Yunho’s and the instant their skin touched, warmth spread through both of their palms. Yunho’s fingers closed around hers as his father looked from one to the other before speaking quietly. “Protect one another.” It wasn’t a command. It sounded almost… like a father’s blessing. Then he stepped aside as the reaper moved forward and every demon in the hall bowed their heads. Even Lucifer.
The reaper rested both hands atop the obsidian staff she carried, her dark robes pooling around her feet like living shadow. Her voice, when she spoke, filled every corner of the hall without ever rising above a calm, measured cadence. “Hear now the First Covenant.” The air itself seemed to still. “When Fate harvests a mortal soul…” Her ancient eyes settled upon Yunho. “the harvest shall remain untouched.” She looked to Y/N. “The thread shall end where it was woven.” She looked at both of them now. “But should a demon preserve that which Fate has claimed…” A low vibration spread through the altar beneath their feet. “the preserver shall forever bear the burden of the preserved.”
The candles brightened. The obsidian beneath them glowed crimson. “Their souls shall no longer walk separate paths.” The inside of Y/N’s wrist began to burn and she gasped softly as Yunho felt the same heat bloom beneath his own skin. The brand awakened. The black horn upon her wrist shimmered first. Then the feather upon his. Golden light erupted around both symbols as the infernal runes returned, spiraling slowly around each mark exactly as they had after the earthquake. This time… everyone in the hall watched as the reaper continued in a language older than kingdoms. The words rolled through the chamber like living thunder, each syllable resonating somewhere beyond hearing. Y/N couldn’t understand a single sound but Yunho understood every one. Every promise. Every oath. Every sentence binding two souls beyond death itself.
The runes circled faster. Brighter. Until the symbols on both wrists seemed carved from molten gold. The reaper lifted one hand and Lucifer stepped forward once more. In his palm rested a ceremonial blade. Its edge was impossibly thin, forged from black metal streaked with crimson veins that glowed softly beneath the hall’s firelight. He looked first to Yunho. “My son.” Without hesitation, Yunho extended his hand and Lucifer drew the blade carefully across his palm. The cut was clean. Dark crimson blood welled immediately as Lucifer turned toward Y/N. She looked at the blade. Then at Yunho. Then, after only the briefest hesitation… she offered her own hand.
The blade kissed her skin with a sharp sting letting a line of bright red appear across her palm as Lucifer stepped back. “The Covenant recognizes blood willingly shared.” Yunho looked down at her hand as she turned her wounded palm upward and Yunho mirrored the gesture. Their hands met and the instant their blood touched the altar roared. Crimson light exploded upward around them in a great spiral, bathing the entire hall in infernal fire. The glowing runes surrounding their wrists detached from their skin, circling them together like living constellations before dissolving into streams of golden embers. Y/N felt something impossible. Not pain. Not magic exactly. But recognition. As though somewhere deep inside her soul… a door had quietly unlocked.
The light slowly settled and their blood mingled across joined palms before, impossibly, both cuts began to seal themselves shut. Not completely. Just enough to leave behind faint silver scars crossing the centers of their hands. Twin reminders as the reaper’s voice rang out one final time. “The Covenant has accepted.” She looked to Yunho. “Seal the vow.” He hesitated, his eyes searching Y/N’s face, silently asking the question neither of them had expected to answer today. She gave the smallest nod. Barely noticeable. But it was enough. He lifted one hand to her cheek. His touch was gentle. Almost hesitant. Like he hadn’t ruined her for anyone else only a couple of nights ago.
When their foreheads nearly touched, he whispered so quietly only she could hear, “I’m sorry this happened like this.” Before she could answer he closed the remaining distance. The kiss was soft. Not the desperate hunger of two strangers caught in a storm. Not passion. Not obligation. Something quieter. A promise neither of them fully understood yet. Around them, the crimson flames burned higher as the last of the ancient runes dissolved into the air like falling stars. And throughout the Great Hall of Pandemonium, every demon present witnessed the moment the Covenant was completed.
The Prince of Hell… was no longer standing alone.
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The celebration continued long after the ceremony ended. Music filled the Great Hall once more, softer now, accompanied by the low hum of thousands of conversations. Crystal glasses clinked together beneath the glow of infernal chandeliers while servants moved effortlessly through the crowd carrying silver trays overflowing with food and dark wine. Somewhere in the distance, laughter erupted from one of the noble families as musicians began another song. Yunho wanted absolutely no part of it. He endured exactly as much of the reception as protocol demanded.
An elderly duke bowed deeply before congratulating him on “finally settling down.” A general who’d served under Lucifer for nearly a millennium clasped his forearm with genuine happiness. A handful of ministers offered polite congratulations to both him and Y/N, each one careful to address her as “Your Highness,” a title that still made her glance over her shoulder to see if someone else was standing behind her. Every smile Yunho gave was practiced. Every conversation brief. His eyes kept drifting toward Y/N. She was doing remarkably well considering she’d been a bartender in Los Angeles that morning and was now expected to mingle with Hell’s aristocracy. Still… he could see it. The exhaustion. The information overload. The way she unconsciously clutched the bouquet a little tighter every few minutes. Enough.
He excused himself from another conversation with a quiet apology before making his way back to her. “We’re leaving.” She furrowed her brows, a little hopeful. “Can we?”
“I’m the groom.”
“And?”
“I make an excellent excuse.” Before anyone else could stop them, Yunho gently took her hand and guided her toward one of the grand exits. Behind them, Lucifer watched his son disappear through the towering doors as one of the older demons standing nearby chuckled into his glass. “Well…” He smirked. “Someone seems rather eager to consummate the marriage.” Several nobles laughed quietly as Lucifer merely watched the doors for another moment before the faintest smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “No.” He took a slow sip of wine. “My son has simply never enjoyed crowds.”
The walk back through the palace felt strangely peaceful. The corridors that had bustled with frantic wedding preparations only hours earlier had emptied considerably. Servants offered respectful bows as they passed before continuing on with their evening, while the distant sounds of the celebration slowly faded behind them. Neither of them spoke much. Neither seemed to know what to say. Eventually, Yunho stopped before a pair of enormous black doors adorned with silver infernal runes and they opened without him touching them. He stepped aside first. “You first.” Y/N hesitated only a second before walking inside and her eyes widened all over again.
“This…” She slowly turned in place. “is your room?” Yunho followed her inside, closing the doors behind them with a quiet click. “Our chambers now.”
“They’re bigger than my apartment.”
“They’re older than Los Angeles.”
She let out a tired little laugh. “I hate that you can say things like that.” He didn’t answer. Instead, he crossed the room toward a crystal decanter resting atop a dark wooden cabinet and poured himself a generous glass of amber liquor. The first sip disappeared almost immediately. With his free hand he shrugged out of the embroidered ceremonial coat, draping it carelessly over the back of a nearby chair. A second later… the tie came off. He loosened it with one impatient tug before pulling it free completely and tossing it beside the jacket. Only then did he seem to exhale as Y/N watched him quietly. “Rough day?” She was joking if only to ease both of them.
He looked over the rim of his glass and snorted at her attempt. “You have no idea.” She smiled faintly. “I think I might.” The smile faded almost as quickly as it had appeared though as her gaze drifted around the enormous room again. The books. The fireplace. The furniture. The windows overlooking Hell City. None of it belonged to her. Nothing belonged to her anymore. The realization settled slowly and painfully. “I don’t have anything.” Yunho looked at her. “My apartment…” She swallowed. “My clothes.” A small laugh escaped her, though it sounded heartbreakingly hollow. “My toothbrush.” She looked down at the dress. “This…” She touched the crimson fabric lightly. “is literally all I have.”
The room fell quiet as Yunho stared at her for several long seconds before setting his drink aside. Without saying a word, he crossed to one of the enormous wardrobes lining the far wall and the doors opened. Inside hung clothes spanning centuries of fashion. He reached in without hesitation and pulled out a dark charcoal henley made from impossibly soft fabric. Long sleeves. Comfortable. Large enough to reach halfway down her thighs. He walked back over and held it out to her. “You can sleep in this.” She accepted it carefully. “What about tomorrow?”
He met her eyes. “I’ll have everything you need when you wake up.” There wasn’t the slightest hesitation in his voice. It wasn’t reassurance. It was a promise. Y/N looked down at the shirt in her hands. “Thank you.” Another silence settled between them before he looked back up. “Can you…” She glanced awkwardly over one shoulder toward the intricate fastenings of the gown. “I can’t reach all of these.” A tiny, embarrassed smile appeared which made no sense. They have both seen each other more than naked. “Would you help me?”
Yunho nodded. “Of course.” She turned around and carefully gathered her hair up, exposing the elegant web of gold clasps and jeweled chains securing the back of the dress. For a moment… he simply looked. Not because he’d never seen her before. Two nights ago there had been nothing between them except urgency and attraction. Tonight felt entirely different. Much quieter. Much more careful as his fingers moved to the first clasp. “These are unnecessarily complicated.” A small laugh escaped her. “They weren’t designed to come off quickly.”
“So I’ve noticed.” One by one, he worked through the intricate fastenings with surprising patience until the final clasp slipped free and the tension holding the gown together released. Y/N caught the fabric against her front before it could fall. “Got it?”
“Yeah.”
She reached for the henley and, after gathering the dress securely, slipped the oversized shirt over her head. The soft fabric settled around her shoulders, falling comfortably to mid thigh. Only once she was fully covered did she let the gown slide carefully into her hands. The elaborate royal dress pooled like liquid crimson silk against her arms.
The oversized henley hung loosely from her frame, the sleeves swallowing her hands until she pushed them back to her wrists. Against the grandeur of Yunho’s chambers, the simple charcoal shirt looked almost comically out of place. But so did she. The wedding gown lay folded across the end of the bed now, its crimson satin catching the glow from the black fire burning in the hearth. It looked less like clothing now and more like evidence that the last several hours had actually happened.
Y/N wandered farther into the room, her bare feet disappearing into a thick obsidian colored rug before stopping beside the enormous bed again dominating the center of the chambers. “This,” she finally said, “is the biggest bed I’ve ever seen.” Yunho glanced over from where he stood beside the cabinet, another sip disappearing from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “It is.” She reached out, pinching the edge of one of the sheets between two fingers. Silk. Of course. A quiet snort escaped her. “Silk sheets.”
“They’re comfortable.”
“They’re incredibly pretentious.”
“They’re incredibly comfortable.”
She looked back at him over one shoulder. “I hate that you’re probably right.” The corner of his mouth lifted. It was the first genuine smile either of them had managed since the ceremony. She let the silk slip through her fingers before sitting carefully on the edge of the mattress. It barely dipped beneath her weight. For a little while she simply looked around the room again until her gaze eventually found Yunho again. He’d finished loosening the last of the formal stiffness from his clothes and the prince who had stood before an entire kingdom had disappeared, replaced once more by the man she’d met in Los Angeles. She watched him quietly. Then asked, almost too casually, “Do you regret it yet?”
Yunho frowned slightly. “Regret what?” She looked at him like the answer should’ve been obvious. “Saving my life.” The room became still. The crackling fire seemed suddenly louder as Yunho set the glass down on the cabinet with a soft clink before walking toward her slowly and unhurriedly.He stopped only when he stood directly in front of her. Even seated, she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. He towered over her without ever feeling imposing. And for a long moment he simply looked at her. At the exhaustion beneath her eyes. The grief she’d been trying not to show. The woman who’d lost everything in a single afternoon. And when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.
“I’ve been around for a long time.”
She didn’t interrupt.
“I regret a lot of things.” His eyes drifted briefly toward the feather branded inside his wrist before returning to hers. “There are decisions I’ve made that still keep me awake centuries later. But…” His expression softened. “saving you isn’t one of them.” Y/N searched his face, almost expecting to find hesitation hidden somewhere behind the words. Maybe a lie. But there wasn’t any.
“You say that now.”
“I’d say it a thousand years from now.”
“You’ve known me for…” She gave a tired little laugh. “What? Two days?”
“Three, technically.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“No.”
“It makes you sound crazier.”
“Probably.”
She looked down at her hands resting in her lap. “My life is gone.” The words came out so quietly he almost didn’t hear them. “My apartment’s probably full of reporters by now.” She swallowed back the tears that wanted to leave her. “My job… Tiffany is dead.” The silence stretched between them. “I don’t even know if anyone thinks I’m alive.”
Yunho lowered himself until he was kneeling in front of her, bringing himself to her eye level. “No.” She looked at him. “They know you’re alive.”
“How?”
“Because you disappeared.”
Her brow furrowed. “The entire city watched a building collapse.”
His voice remained steady. “No one found your body. They’ll assume you escaped.”
“And when I never go home?”
Yunho didn’t answer right away, instead, he reached out, carefully taking one of her hands between both of his, thumb brushing lightly over the horn branded into her wrist. “We’ll figure that out.”
“We?”
“We.”
Because now, they would never be alone. Now, they were bound. By blood. By soul. Forever the other’s for all eternity.
a/n: pt ii to this. i guess im going with the moving feat. sex theme right now? i just filled up my car with my stuff and i had to sit down because its fucking HOT outside and then this was born. warnings: gn!reader, car/kind of public sex, smut - minors dni. 1k.
your car is full of boxes and clothes and kitchen appliances that are squished together so tightly that you’re surprised the doors haven’t popped open. moving has been an overwhelming task, but you’re finally on the road towards your new home and you’re excited and nervous and your stomach is full of butterflies from the anxiety.
and also from the way chan is pushing you into the steering wheel as he chases your lips in a kiss too dirty for where you are. the horn blares behind your back for a second and you startle, pushing him back so there is enough space between you and the wheel; you’re already in a public space, and even though it seems empty there’s a possibility that someone could walk by and see you.
the last five minutes feels like it’s passed by in flashes, from parking in the garage at the hotel you’re staying at on your way to your destination to him turning off the ignition and finally landing at you swinging over the middle console to straddle his hips.
the dim lighting from the garage lights makes it hard to see his face, but it doesn’t matter since your eyes flutter closed as his lips travel down your jaw towards your neck. he bites at your skin gently, pressing a fond shaped kiss to the burning spot before he pulls back.
“that eager that you couldn’t wait until we got to our room?” he asks, and you know his ears are burning red even though you can’t see them well.
“check in isn’t for another 15 minutes,” you don’t defend yourself because you kind of are eager, and instead you settle your hips down further into his. “what else are we going to do with that time?”
“i don’t know, wait in the lobby- mmph-“ you cut him off, returning your lips to his and starting a frantic rhythm that threatens to knock you off balance before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer into him.
you can feel his smirk against your mouth and you tilt your head just enough to bite at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth a little too harshly and letting it go with a wet pop. you almost feel guilty when a whine escapes the back of his throat but you stop yourself from saying sorry.
he always prefers his pleasure with a cherry of pain on top, after all.
you reward his good behavior of shutting up and letting you have your ways with him with a slow roll of your hips. you can feel his growing length through his sweatpants between your legs and your body responds in kind, pulsing around nothing as you move.
“fuuuck,” he groans when you start up a steady pattern of movement, throwing his head back and exposing the milky column of his throat. you take his unspoken invitation and mouth at his pulse point, enjoying the way his heart beat jumps every time you grind against him. you’re throbbing alongside him, a growing wetness hidden in your pants, but you ignore it for now. as much as your body wants you to, you aren’t getting off right now; you refuse to take off your clothes in the middle of the day in a public space, but you know that chan is ready and willing to do any humiliating thing at a moment’s notice. he doesn’t even get off on it, he’s just weird like that.
“that’s it, channie,” you coo, your mouth close to his ear as you nose at his cheek. “let me make you feel good. i bet you’ve been thinking of doing this all day.”
“n-no, you freak,” he stutters out, and his hips jerk up to meet yours. “you’re the one who comes up with these weird ideas. i was going to-to fuck you in the- ah, the hotel bed like a normal pers-ah-“
the way he’s trying to talk with his mind clouded in pleasure is unbearably cute. so cute that you forgive him for the blame he tries to place on you for having a dirty mind. before you met him you were as vanilla as plain ice cream, he’s the one that made you like this with his weird smooth talking and long list of kinks you’ve slowly been discovering together.
“keep talking and i’ll leave you like this,” you reach a hand between your legs where your body meets his and wrap a hand around his hard cock through his clothes. you bet he’s leaking, already on edge enough to come soon, and even though you started it you’re grateful that he decided to wear black today.
you don’t know if you could have had the strength to suffer that kind of embarrassment if he had been wearing something lighter that would show undeniable proof of what you were doing minutes before entering the lobby.
“no,” he uses his grip on you to pull you impossibly further into him, crushing your hand between your bodies and sending a shuddering gasp through you both. “you’re finishing this.”
his hands move to your hips and he curls his fingers into your skin as if he thinks you’ll run away if he doesn’t hold on hard enough. he starts moving you back and forth, setting his own rhythm without any help from you, grinding you back and forth as if you were inanimate. no matter how many times you’ve been intimate with him, the moment when he switches from subby and pliant to taking what he wants has always given you whiplash.
you wrap your arms around his shoulders and enjoy the ride, a little overwhelmed by how good it feels and too lightheaded to really argue. it doesn’t take him long to reach his climax with the way he’s bucking up against you and panting into your shoulder. he jerks you towards him in one final pull before his entire body tenses and goes taut and his breath catches in his throat.
you can feel his dick twitch in your hand once, twice, before he relaxes into a puddle against the driver’s seat. his breaths are slow and heavy and his heartbeat is still pounding, and there’s a small line of sweat that trails from his temple to his jaw that you lean in to lick away.
“you’re going to have to go check us in, baby,” he thunks his head against the headrest, sighing deeply. “i can’t feel my legs.”
summary : just a simple day grocery shopping with hongjoong, until an old lady mistakes you two for a couple, and now you’re forced to face reality
genre : fluff, non idol au, friends to lovers
warnings : none?? reader is (hinted at being) shorter than hongjoong
wc : 1.6k
a/n : first fic on here ofc it had to be joong 😛 this is just smth i whipped up rlly quick omg i hope y'all like it ><
You had become very good at ignoring things.
Like the way Hongjoong always walked slightly slower when you were beside him. Or how he handed you things without asking, as if he already knew you’d want them. Or how your name sounded different whenever he said it—softer, like it belonged somewhere familiar.
He had been your best friend for as long as you could remember, so it was only natural for things between you two to become comfortable. Most days, it was easy to convince yourself it was all platonic—months of practice would do that. But then he’d laugh, or text you to make sure you got home safe, and suddenly it wasn’t.
But of course, none of it meant anything. You valued Hongjoong’s friendship more than anything, even if it meant pushing your crush down far enough to forget about it while you’re with him. That had been the rule you vowed to follow ever since the day your feelings toward Hongjoong shifted. Especially now, standing in the middle of a grocery store, arguing over instant noodles as if it were a matter of life or death.
“You’re overthinking it again,” Hongjoong said, already reaching for one of the packets.
“I’m not overthinking it,” you replied, narrowing your eyes. “I just have standards.”
“For instant noodles?”
“For survival, yes.”
“If you really cared about survival, you’d buy ingredients for real meals, not this processed stuff.”
“It’s not my fault they’re easier to make.”
He scoffed but still held up two different flavours anyway. “Pick one, then. Since you’re the expert.”
You leaned in slightly, scanning them. “That one’s better.”
Hongjoong shot you a look of disgust, which you did not take lightly. “Don’t act like you know any better! Last time you picked, all hell broke loose in my kitchen.”
“Well, last time I chose the better option.”
This time it was your turn to scoff. “You literally could not stop complaining about how much it sucked.”
He looked as if he was formulating a comeback before turning his head away in defeat. “Shut up,” he mumbled.
That made you laugh before you could stop it, and Hongjoong’s expression softened, as if he’d been waiting for that reaction without realizing.
He dropped both packets into the cart anyway. “We’re getting both,” he decided.
“That defeats the whole point of choosing.”
“No it doesn’t. It just means we don’t start another ten-minute argument over food.”
You sighed. He had a good point. You followed as he pushed the cart forward, bumping it slightly when he steered too sharply into the next aisle.
“You drive this thing like you’re in a car chase scene,” you muttered, more to yourself than him. It seemed he heard you, though, as he glared at you playfully. You shook your head, still smiling despite yourself, stepping closer so you didn’t lose him in the crowd. It was easy like this. Too easy, sometimes.
Suddenly, a voice came from behind you. “Excuse me, dear?” You turned first.
An older woman stood beside the aisle with a small basket hooked over her arm, smiling politely. Her eyes flickered between you and Hongjoong as if she was piecing something together.
“Sorry to bother you,” she said softly, “could one of you reach that top shelf for me?” You looked up at where she was pointing, already wondering how you’d be able to reach it.
But Hongjoong reacted before you even had the chance to answer. “Of course.”
He stepped forward easily, stretching up to grab the item she pointed at, balancing it in one hand before passing it down to her. You notice how his eyes softened as he met her kind smile.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said warmly, adjusting it in her basket. Her gaze lingered a second too long after that, she smiled again—wider this time.
“You two are such a sweet couple.”
The words landed oddly in the space between you. For a second, neither of you spoke. You stood there, unsure how to react to the unexpected comment. Hongjoong blinked once, then let out a small, slightly awkward laugh.
“Oh—no, we’re not—“
“Oh don’t be ridiculous!” The woman insisted, her gaze unwavering. “Honestly, you remind me of my husband and me. I’ve never seen anyone look at someone with so much love in their eyes.”
It was your turn to laugh now, though it came out more panicked than Hongjoong’s. Was she talking about you? You thought you were good at hiding your little crush, but if a stranger could figure it out so quickly, you could only imagine what Hongjoong already knew. Then you saw her attention was fixed on him, and you sighed out of relief. So she was talking about Hongjoong. But it only made you wonder more—did he really look at you like that?
“Ah, no, we’re just friends.” You chuckled, trying to ignore the way your heart did a flip. You looked over at Hongjoong, who had been unusually quiet, only to be met with his gaze already fixed on you. Your breath hitched, trying to read his odd expression.
The elderly woman quickly apologised and said her final thanks before walking away. Hongjoong let out a shaky laugh beside you. “Did we really look that much like a couple?” He joked, shaking his head as he went back to pushing your shopping cart forward. However, as you looked closer at him, you noticed the faint pink tinting the tips of his ears. It made you wonder—Hongjoong never seemed flustered around you. Not usually.
The rest of the shopping trip would’ve gone perfectly fine if it wasn’t for you becoming painfully more self-aware. Suddenly, every domestic detail seemed obvious. The way he instinctively stepped aside when you stopped to look at things, the way he slowed down whenever you lagged behind, the way he kept turning his head to check you were still right there beside him. It made all the butterflies you carefully tucked away flutter in your stomach.
He reached over your shoulder to grab something from a shelf, casually asking, “Do we need milk?” We. Not ‘you’, not ‘I’—we. As if you’d always been deciding things together. He glanced at you, worried by your silence.
“Oh, um— ...yeah, probably.” You avoided eye contact, too scared that if he looked into your eyes any longer he’d be able to see all your thoughts and feelings.
—
Eventually, you found yourselves in the checkout line, absentmindedly watching the conveyor belt as Hongjoong unloaded the cart beside you.
“You know,” he said suddenly, placing a carton of milk down, “I still think that lady was crazy.”
You looked up. “Crazy?”
“Yeah.” He laughed softly. “A couple?”
Your stomach betrayed you again with a flutter.
“Right.”
Hongjoong looked over at you. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“I’m just saying, she wasn’t entirely wrong. We do look kind of…” You hesitated, fiddling with your thumbs. “I guess, intimate. Domestic. Way too comfortable for two people who are just friends.”
A beat passed before Hongjoong spoke. “What if I wanted us to be more than that?”
You quickly snapped your eyes to meet his, the rest of your sentence dying in your throat. Hongjoong looked just as surprised as you felt. Like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. The noise of the grocery store seemed to fade imto the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart.
That was until the cashier’s voice dragged you back down to earth. “Will that be cash or card?” Hongjoong cleared his throat quickly, turning to pay as if nothing had happened, though the deep flush creeping from his neck to his ears gave him away.
And just like that, despite your heart’s objections, everything returned to normal. You both unloaded the groceries into his car and headed back to your apartment. As you sat in the passenger seat, you couldn’t resist turning to face Hongjoong. He kept his eyes on the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other lazily on the center console. Every now and then, he drummed his fingers lightly on the surface, and for some reason, you found yourself watching them more than you probably should.
You studied him carefully, his words from earlier replaying in your mind, as he spoke up. “Stop staring at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re in love with me or something.” He quoted the old lady from the store, flashing a teasing smile as he approached a red light.
You quickly turned your head sway, blush threatening to appear. “Shut up.”
“I meant what I said at the store, by the way.” You turned your head again carefully. He was still looking at you, but his smile was more shy now, and the red flush on his ears returned. “I’d like us to be more than friends. I’ve wanted that for a while, actually. But only if you want to too—there’s no pressure or anything!”
You chuckled at his sudden panic, your heart swelling with how gentle it all felt. “Of course I do, you goofball.” His body visibly relaxed upon hearing your words, as he shifted back to face the road with a sigh of relief. You couldn’t help but giggle slightly, clutching your stomach as he shot you a familiar glare.
Despite the confession, you knew deep down that nothing else would really change between the two of you. Everything was perfect as it was. He would always be your best friend, and you would always be his.
You looked at Hongjoong one last time, eyes delicately tracing his features. “Now, hurry up and get us home. You don’t want your new girlfriend to starve, do you?”
Hongjoong looked at you with a surprised expression, which quickly turned into a smile. He laughed. “Never.”
You had become very good at ignoring things. But as Hongjoong gave you one final glance—eyes full of affection—you found that you didn’t want to anymore.
Yunho didn’t flinch. Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, that cocky smirk slowly giving way to something darker. “I want to watch you fuck Mingi.”
You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Yunho pushed off the wall, stepping into the room with slow, deliberate confidence.
“I mean really fuck him, baby,” he added, voice low and teasing. “I want to watch you ruin him with that strap you bought for me.”
That strap, bought during a drunken night filled with jokes and kink quizzes. You’d never used it, not once. It had been a fantasy, half joke, half dare from Wooyoung. But Yunho wasn’t joking now.
You swallowed hard, pulse picking up. “Yunho… are you sure?”
He nodded once. “I want it. I want to see him under you. Want to hear him beg. Want to see your fingers in his mouth while he takes it.” He paused. “He’ll let you. He wants it, too.”
As if summoned, Mingi stepped into the doorway like he’d been waiting outside. His eyes met yours, nervous, but not unsure. His tongue darted across his lips, and god, he looked so pretty when he was nervous.
“So,” Yunho murmured, turning to sit on the edge of the bed, his knees spread wide, “which one of you is gonna undress first?”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Mingi was already flushed before you even touched him.
Stripped down to just his boxers, his broad chest rising and falling with every breath, pupils dilated. You stood in front of him, running your fingers through his hair before gripping it tight, forcing his head back just enough to see Yunho watching from the bed.
“On your knees.”
He dropped instantly. Eager. Beautiful. Filthy.
Yunho groaned quietly behind you, palming himself through his sweats. You could feel his gaze on you like a second touch, watching as you spread Mingi open with lube slicked fingers, coaxing soft moans from him.
“He’s already so fucking needy,” you whispered, tilting your head back enough for Yunho to hear. “He’s been waiting for this, hasn’t he?”
Mingi let out a breathy “yes,” his voice shaking. “Please… I can take it.”
“You better,” you purred. “Because I’m not stopping until Yunho tells me to.”
When you pushed inside, Mingi choked on a moan, half pain, half pleasure, his fingers clawing into the sheets as you filled him, slow and steady.
“Fuck…. oh my god”
Yunho stood now, circling the bed like a predator, dragging two fingers across Mingi’s jaw, then gripping it tight.
“Look at you,” he murmured, watching Mingi’s eyes flutter. “You’re taking her so well. You like having your ass used, huh?”
Mingi nodded weakly, breath stuttering as you pulled back and slammed forward again, harder this time. “I love it…. fuck…. I love it.”
Yunho’s gaze snapped to you, pure hunger. “Go harder.”
And you did.
You fucked Mingi like you owned him, like he was yours to break apart. Every slap of skin echoed through the room, Mingi’s moans climbing higher, filth spilling from your mouth as you leaned forward to bite down on his shoulder, fingers curling around his throat just tight enough to make him whine.
Yunho stood at the edge of the bed, hand wrapped around his dick now, slow strokes timed to your thrusts.
“She’s gonna make you come like this,” he said roughly to Mingi. “Stuffed full and dripping. What would people think if they saw you like this?”
“I don’t care,” Mingi gasped. “I just want her… please… harder…. don’t stop”
You didn’t.
He came with a strangled cry, untouched, as you rutted into him like you were never going to stop. He was shaking, begging, gasping against the sheets, but you weren’t done.
Mingi’s body was twitching beneath you, already wrecked from the first orgasm you’d dragged out of him, but you weren’t finished. You were still grinding deep, still thrusting slow and hard, relishing the way his thighs trembled, the way he whined your name like a prayer and a curse all in one.
You barely noticed Yunho strip.
But the second you felt his chest press to your back and his hand snake between your legs, you sucked in a sharp breath.
“Didn’t say I was just gonna watch, did I?” Yunho rasped into your ear, his dick already sliding through your wetness. “She’s not done with you, Mingi. Not even close.”
Mingi moaned beneath you, his voice all fucked out and slurred. “I can take it. I’ll take anything she gives me.”
“You better,” Yunho said darkly, lining himself up behind you. “Because now I’m gonna take her.”
You were already dripping, already clenching when he pushed into you with one brutal, perfect thrust. You cried out, your body arching forward from the force of it, making the strap drive even deeper into Mingi.
Mingi screamed. You gasped. Yunho groaned.
“Fuck,” you whimpered, trying to keep your rhythm, but Yunho wasn’t letting you have control anymore. His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging deep, and he pounded into you with a pace that stole your balance. Each thrust shoved you forward into Mingi, harder than before, the strap plunging into him with every motion you couldn’t stop.
You were barely hanging on. Yunho was a machine behind you, relentless, breath hot on your neck, the slap of his hips echoing off the walls. His grip never loosened. He used your body like you were his to fuck, and you were, and the fact that you were still buried inside his best friend only made it more obscene.
“She’s fucking you,” Yunho growled to Mingi. “But I’m fucking her. You feel how deep she is right now? That’s me putting her there.”
Mingi’s legs kicked, helpless.
“Can’t move,” he sobbed. “She’s… fuck…. too deep”
“You’re gonna take it,” Yunho snapped. “You’re gonna take everything she gives you while I fuck it into her.”
Your legs were shaking, arms barely holding you up. Yunho shifted, angling himself deeper, hitting your g spot with every snap of his hips. The pleasure was dizzying, your mouth falling open.
“You’re so full, baby,” he groaned, one hand wrapping around your throat. “Strap in him, dick in you, look at you, fucking made for us.”
You couldn’t even speak. Mingi was babbling into the sheets, you were moaning, crying out with every thrust, and Yunho was rutting into you like he was punishing you for making him wait.
“You close?” he growled.
You nodded frantically, body pulsing around him.
“Then come. Come with me buried in this pussy and him stuffed full of your strap. Come, baby, now.”
And you did.
It tore through you like lightning, and your scream echoed through the room as you collapsed forward, body spasming. Mingi came again underneath you with a broken moan, and Yunho didn’t stop, he fucked you through it, through the shaking, the overstimulation, his own orgasm crashing into you seconds later as he buried himself deep and came with a growl in your ear.
All three of you were trembling by the time it ended. A sticky, panting mess of limbs and sweat and afterglow.
You stayed lying on top of Mingi, both of you whimpering as Yunho slowly pulled out, chuckling breathlessly.
“Well,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow. “That was better than I imagined.”
Mingi wheezed. “I think I saw god.” He was still breathless, collapsed on the bed beneath you, face flushed and twitching with aftershocks. His lips were parted like he wanted to speak, but no words came.
You were barely upright, your body covered in sweat, trembling from release, but Yunho’s hands on your hips held you steady. His chest pressed to your back. His voice a low growl at your ear.
“Now me,” he said.
You blinked. Turned your head slightly, lips brushing his cheek.
“You sure?”
He exhaled, jaw tight. “I want to feel it too. I want to know what he just felt. I want you inside me.”
That alone almost made you almost come again.
Yunho had never given over control. He never bottomed. Not for you. Not for anyone. He loved control. Loved watching you fall apart. But now, his voice was shaking and low and his body practically buzzed with need.
You pulled out of Mingi gently, both of you gasping. Mingi rolled to the side, eyes barely open but watching, dazed and fascinated. Watching Yunho.
“Come on, then,” you murmured, voice darker now. “On your knees.”
Yunho obeyed.
His muscles rippled as he shifted into position, arms bracing him on the bed, legs parted, ass bare and perfect. He didn’t look back at you, but his breathing was already shallow. Waiting.
You slicked your fingers again, sliding them down the curve of his ass, watching him twitch when you brushed his hole.
“Good boy,” you whispered, and he shuddered.
Mingi let out a shaky breath behind you, still watching everything. “Holy shit…”
You stretched him slow, careful, but firm. You wanted this to be intense. You wanted him to feel what it meant to give himself over to you. Every time your finger slid deeper, Yunho groaned, low, guttural, his thighs tensing.
“You can take more,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his spine.
“Yeah,” he rasped. “Give it to me.”
So you did.
The strap slid in with a slick, slow push, and Yunho grunted, fists tightening in the sheets, hips rocking back to meet you like he needed to be filled to breathe.
“Fuuuck…. baby….”
“That’s it,” you whispered, nails digging into his hips. “You look so fucking hot like this. All mine now, huh?”
“All yours,” he growled, forehead pressed to the bed. “Fuck me. Hard. Don’t hold back.”
You didn’t.
You started slow, dragging the strap out and slamming it back in, each thrust harder than the last until Yunho was gasping, panting, moaning. Mingi had propped himself up against the headboard, still wrecked but wide eyed, stroking himself slowly as he watched you fuck his best friend into submission.
“Look at you,” you snarled, slamming in again. “Fucking whimpering for me. You like this, Yunho? Like me using you?”
“Yes,” he cried out, back arching. “More… harder… don’t stop”
You leaned forward, pressing your chest to his back, your mouth to his ear.
“You’re taking me so well. Being so good for me. Look at Mingi. He’s watching you fall apart. You feel powerless, don’t you?”
Yunho let out a strangled moan, trembling.
You reached down, stroking his dick in time with your thrusts, and it was all over from there.
He came with a growl, loud and raw, hips jerking wildly as he collapsed forward, body wracked with aftershocks. You kept moving through it, dragging every last sound from him until he was shaking, begging, cursing into the mattress.
When you finally pulled out, he rolled onto his back, chest heaving, face flushed and damp with sweat.
You hovered over him, legs shaking, but your eyes burned into his.
Yunho lay flat on his back beside you, his chest still heaving, eyes glazed and lips parted. Mingi had propped himself back on his elbows at the edge of the bed, gaze locked on the slick curve of the strap, your thighs, your breathless smirk.
They were fucked out. Drenched in sweat. But their eyes still followed you like you were the sun itself.
You licked your lips, stretched lazily, and let your fingers trail down your own stomach. Then you smirked.
“My turn,” you said.
Two words. That’s all it took.
Yunho blinked, slowly sitting up with a dazed grin, still flushed and unsteady on his knees. Mingi was already crawling toward you like the obedient, aching mess he was, pupils blown wide.
You sat back on the pillows, legs spread slightly, the harness still in place, glistening. You didn’t move. Didn’t have to.
“What do you want, baby?” Yunho asked, voice hoarse, eager.
“I want to watch you,” you replied. “Both of you. Right here. Right now. Show me how good you can be, for me.”
Their eyes darkened at the same time.
Mingi moved first, of course he did, leaning over to kiss your thigh, then trailing kisses up to your navel, his hands spreading your legs wider. Yunho knelt between your thighs too, eyes never leaving your face as his lips followed the other side, hot breath teasing your skin.
You let your head fall back, watching them both through hooded eyes as they worshipped you together.
Kisses. Tongues. Fingers tracing patterns over your skin.
“God, you’re perfect,” Mingi whispered, nuzzling into your hip.
“She deserves everything,” Yunho added, kissing your inner thigh.
They didn’t rush.
Mingi’s tongue dipped lower, Yunho followed his lead, and then it was both of them—sharing, switching, tasting, teasing, moaning between your legs like they were getting off just from the taste of you. Mingi’s fingers digging into your thighs while Yunho pressed kisses to your clit after they removed the strap, murmuring your name like a mantra.
You tangled your fingers in their hair, tugging tight when it got too good, when the pressure hit just right.
Mingi’s tongue was buried deep inside you now, Yunho’s lips sealed around your clit, and you were right on the edge, ready to fall apart all over their pretty faces. Until you grabbed a fistful of each man’s hair and pulled.
“Stop.”
They both froze.
Yunho looked up at you, breathless and confused, lips glossy. “Did we… did we do something wrong?”
Mingi blinked, still hovering between your thighs. “Do you not want…”
You gave them both a crooked smile, licking your lips, voice like honey and sin.
“That’s not what I meant when I said it was my turn.”
Mingi sat back slowly. “Then… what did you mean?”
You stood, body still flushed and glowing with sweat and circled them like a wolf stalking prey. You leaned in close behind Yunho, whispering low against his neck.
“I want to watch you…” Then your eyes flicked to Mingi, and your voice turned to a purr. “Both of you. Together.”
Silence.
Yunho turned his head, just slightly. “You mean…”
Mingi’s breath caught. “You want me to fuck him?”
You gave a single nod, slow and deliberate. “Or him to fuck you. I don’t care who’s on top. I just want to watch both of you fall apart in front of me.”
The air shifted.
Yunho’s gaze dropped to Mingi, something unspoken passing between them, surprise, hesitation, maybe even curiosity… but not denial.
“You’ve thought about it,” you said quietly, getting back on the bed, backing toward the headboard, reclining like a queen before her performance. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve both thought about it.”
Yunho swallowed. Mingi’s lips parted.
And then Yunho gave a breathless laugh, soft, disbelieving, and turned to Mingi. “She’s right.”
Mingi blinked. “She usually is.”
You smirked. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
Yunho kissed Mingi first. Hesitant at first, almost shy, but it didn’t stay that way. Mingi grabbed Yunho by the neck and pulled him closer, mouths crashing together in a mess of teeth and tongue and groaning breath.
They forgot you were even there for a second, and that was exactly what you wanted.
You moved your hand down, slowly circling your clit as they kissed harder, deeper, bodies sliding together.
“Get on your back,” Yunho finally growled to Mingi.
Mingi obeyed without a word, dick already hard and leaking, lips swollen from kissing. Yunho crawled between his legs, pausing to look back at you, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen.
“You still watching?”
You smiled like the wicked little demon you were. “Every second.”
Yunho leaned down, licking a long stripe up Mingi’s dick before taking it in his mouth.
Mingi shouted, loud and raw and broken.
“Fuck, Yunho… what the fuck”
Yunho sucked him deep, hands pressing into Mingi’s thighs to keep him still, humming low in his throat while Mingi writhed beneath him. Your fingers were rubbing at your clit faster, your free hand gripping the sheets, breath catching with every obscene, wet sound that filled the room.
You watched Yunho devour his best friend, watched Mingi fall apart in real time, grabbing Yunho’s hair, hips twitching.
“Switch,” you commanded suddenly, breathless. “I want Mingi on top. I want him to fuck you.”
They froze.
Yunho lifted his head, lips still glossy. “You serious?”
You raised a brow. “I’ve never been more serious.”
Yunho turned to Mingi, exhaling hard. “You okay with that?”
Mingi nodded, something electric in his eyes. “Only if she keeps watching.”
You leaned back with a grin. “I’ll do more than that. I’ll tell you what to do next.”
Yunho’s lips were still slick from sucking Mingi’s dick, his jaw tight with anticipation as you leaned back, breathless and glowing from everything you’d just done to them both.
Mingi’s eyes snapped to the movement of your fingers rubbing at your clit. “You’re not joining?”
You smirked. “I am. Just… like this.”
Your fingers slid through your folds, slow and teasing, circling your clit as you sank back against the headboard, watching them like a goddamn goddess in the clouds. “I want to watch you fuck each other. I want to see what I do to you both.”
Yunho let out a breath that was more of a groan. Mingi glanced down at him, then back to you, something in his chest rising like he was ready to worship you through Yunho’s body.
And he was.
“On your back,” Mingi said, voice lower now, more commanding. “You heard her.”
Yunho’s eyes flicked to yours, wide and blown. “You sure?”
You gave a soft, dangerous smile as your fingers moved faster over your clit. “Be a good boy, Yunho. Let him make you feel as good as you made me.”
Yunho nodded once. Then slowly laid back, chest rising with each shaky breath, arms spread slightly above his head like he was giving himself up.
Mingi crawled over him, leaning down to kiss him again, deeper this time. There was no hesitation now. Just hunger.
You bit your lip, watching them devour each other’s mouths as your fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance. You were soaked, aching, and every sound, every groan and gasp from their lips made you wetter.
“Use him, Mingi,” you whispered through a moan. “Fuck him like you mean it.”
Mingi reached over for the lube, his hands shaking just slightly as he prepped Yunho, slow fingers, soft kisses, muttered praises you barely heard over the pounding in your ears.
Then he was lined up. Holding Yunho’s legs open. Looking over at you.
“Keep touching yourself,” Mingi said, his voice thick with desire. “Don’t stop.”
You moaned as he pushed in slow, careful, watching Yunho’s eyes roll back and his jaw drop open in a silent cry.
“Fuck… he’s so tight”
Yunho’s back arched. “Holy shit don’t stop… don’t fucking stop”
You were a mess already, fingers stroking furiously as you watched Mingi thrust into him, each snap of his hips rougher, deeper. Yunho took it, moaning loudly, nails dragging down Mingi’s back, head thrown back on the pillows.
They were all sound and sweat and raw movement, your boys, your masterpiece, and you were falling apart to the symphony of their moans.
“Look at her,” Yunho gasped, barely able to get the words out. “She’s fucking herself to this… fuck, I’m gonna come”
“Don’t,” Mingi growled, teeth against Yunho’s throat. “Not yet.”
You were breathless. Wrecked. “Come for me. Both of you. At the same time. I want to see it.”
Mingi’s hand reached down to stroke Yunho’s dick in time with his thrusts, and the moment you said the words, your voice trembling through your orgasm, they both broke.
Yunho came with a shout, body convulsing, and Mingi followed with a grunt, hips jerking deep, burying himself to the hilt as he collapsed onto Yunho’s chest.
You lay there panting, your hand still twitching between your thighs, your thighs soaked, lips parted in awe as they lay tangled together in the aftermath.
Then Mingi looked up at you.
“So,” he breathed, voice rough, “do we get a scorecard?”
Yunho chuckled, barely coherent. “I think we just passed with honors.”
You grinned lazily. “Don’t get cocky. There’s always extra credit.”
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
Yunho walked into the practice room first.
He looked… fine. Too fine. Like a man trying very hard not to limp, not to wince, not to glow. His sweats were low on his hips, hoodie sleeves shoved up to his elbows, and his hair was still damp from his morning shower.
Mingi followed two minutes later.
He looked…..
Let’s just say walking wasn’t his strong suit this morning. He wore a hoodie, but it was zipped halfway down, like he’d overheated just from making it to the elevator. There were faint bruises on his collarbone that weren’t there yesterday. And he hadn’t stopped smiling.
San spotted it first.
He was mid stretch, arms overhead, when he glanced between the two of them. His arms slowly dropped.
“Huh…”
Wooyoung followed his gaze. Then narrowed his eyes. “Nah. No way. They didn’t.”
Seonghwa, tying his shoelaces, didn’t even look up. “Oh, they absolutely did.”
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Did what?”
Jongho, ever the innocent, blinked. “What are you guys talking about?”
“They fucked,” Seonghwa said, cheerfully, standing upright. “Or, more likely, got fucked. Both of them.” He didn’t really need to specify who they got fucked by.
Yunho coughed.
Mingi turned red. “What the hell, Seonghwa?!”
Yunho looked like he wanted to melt through the floor. “It’s not… I mean….”
“Don’t even try,” Wooyoung cut in, stepping closer. “Y’all are literally vibrating. You think we don’t notice the eye contact? The weird spacing? The accidental brush of shoulders every five seconds?”
Mingi groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Can we not do this at dance practice?”
“Oh we’re definitely doing this at dance practice,” San said, grinning like a shark. “Because now I’m wondering, did you just hook up? Or was it a whole…thing?”
Yeosang, who hadn’t said a word until now, finally piped up with surgical precision. “She was there, wasn’t she.”
Silence.
Yunho looked away. Mingi bit his lip.
San’s jaw dropped. Wooyoung howled.
“Oh my GOD, it was a threesome! You guys had a threesome with Y/N?!”
Yunho groaned. Mingi muttered, “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I.”
“No,” Seonghwa said immediately. “Absolutely not. I demand full details over dinner.”
Hongjoong pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we please stretch first before we emotionally interrogate the group sex energy in the room?”
summary: in which your boyfriend’s best friend wakes up and watches
warning: possessive dom yunho, sub mingi, sub reader, unprotected sex, oral, squirting, masturbation, overstimulation, choking, multiple orgasms, voyeurism, creampie
genre: smut
pairing: idol yunho x afab reader x idol mingi
word count: 4.4k
masterlist
═════════ ═════════ ═════════
The hotel room was dim, lit only by the faint amber glow of the city lights bleeding in through the curtains. The hum of traffic far below was a low lull, and Mingi had been out cold for nearly an hour, one arm flung over his head, mouth parted slightly in deep sleep.
You were lying on your side, facing Yunho, your knees barely brushing beneath the sheets. You felt his fingers first, light at your waist, then his breath, warm, sweet with sleep as he leaned in close. “Baby,” he whispered, his voice thick and low, heavy with need, “you’re killing me.”
You whispered back, amused, “He’s right there.” Yunho glanced over your shoulder. Mingi was a statue. If statues snored. “It’s just Mingi,” he said, fingers sliding beneath your shirt, his touch feather light. “Even if he did wake up… he’d probably just turn over and go back to sleep.”
“Or watch,” you muttered under your breath, teasing, joking, half testing him which made Yunho’s dark eyes flick up to yours, slow and heated. “Would that bother you?” he murmured, pressing closer, his hand slipping lower now, to your hip. “If he did?” Your breath caught. “You’d be so quiet for me, wouldn’t you?” he said, voice lower now, lips brushing your ear. “So good.” His fingers moved again, slipping between your thighs now, barely touching, just enough to make your whole body ache as his fingers trailed slow and deliberate down the curve of your hip, barely brushing beneath the waistband of your shorts.
“Turn over,” he murmured, voice husky against your temple. You blinked, breath stalling. “What?” He nuzzled closer, lips skimming your cheek, your jaw. “On your stomach,” he whispered. “It’ll be quieter.” You swallowed hard, eyes flicking toward Mingi’s sleeping form. He hadn’t moved an inch, blanket tangled at his waist, mouth slightly open. Dead to the world. Still… “Yunho…” His hand slid lower, palm heavy as it squeezed your ass beneath the sheets. “You’ll keep your face in the pillow, and I won’t let the bed move.” His voice dipped even deeper, dark and slow like honey. “I’ll fuck you slow, baby. You just have to be good for me.”
You hated how fast your body responded, heat pooling between your legs, your breath already shaky. “But….”
“Do you trust me?”
Your heart thudded as you nodded.
“Then turn over.”
The sheets rustled softly as you rolled onto your stomach, cheek pressed into the cool pillowcase. Your pulse fluttered as Yunho eased the covers down your body, his hand dragging them slowly off your back and your hips. He bent low, lips pressing to your spine. “So quiet for me,” he murmured, kissing a trail down your back. “So good…” his hand slid back up your spine, this time bunching the oversized shirt you wore, his shirt, higher and higher until it was caught just beneath your breasts so he could lean over you, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades, the weight of his body sinking deliciously against yours.
You felt him shift behind you, the unmistakable brush of him thick and hard, pressing between your thighs as he lined himself up. “I missed this,” he breathed, dragging the tip of his dick through your folds once… twice… before he pushed forward, slow, achingly slow and you gasped because you couldn’t help it as he filled you, the stretch so deep and perfect that your mouth parted in a soft, helpless moan.
Yunho froze for a second, buried inside you to the hilt before he chuckled low under his breath, his lips at your ear. “Baby…” he murmured, amusement laced with warning. “You trying to wake him up?” You whimpered into the pillow, biting your lip as he pulled out just enough to make you ache, then slid back in slow, grinding his hips against you with a low exhale. “I said quiet,” he whispered, his hand slipping beneath your shirt to palm your breast, fingers teasing your nipple until you were trembling. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
You nodded into the pillow, your hands clutching the sheets as he started to move again, deep, slow thrusts that lit fire across every nerve. “You feel too good not to be loud,” he teased, his voice smug now, hips rolling smoother, harder. “But you don’t want Mingi to know how good I’m fucking you, do you?” Another quiet moan slipped out and Yunho grinned. “Thought so.”
You whimpered as he buried himself deeper. Every slow thrust had your body trembling beneath him, your legs spread just wide enough under the sheets to let him move the way he wanted, deliberate, controlled and deep. His hand remained curled under your shirt, cupping your breast, fingers rolling your nipple until your hips jerked back into him like muscle memory and another moan slipped from your lips, soft, breathy and desperate. And then Yunho’s hand moved. Smooth and sudden, he slid it from your breast up to your mouth, covering it gently but firmly.
“Shhh,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear, voice a slow whisper of smoke. “I told you to be quiet.” Your eyes fluttered shut. The weight of his body behind you, the heat of his hand over your mouth, the slow press of his dick filling you again and again, it was too much, too good, too risky. And across the room, Mingi shifted in the other bed making Yunho go still immediately, still buried inside you, hand frozen over your mouth. The only sound was the hum of the AC and the thunder in your ears.
Then… nothing. Mingi just turned over, muttered something incoherent in his sleep, and settled back into steady, oblivious breathing as Yunho leaned down, his chest against your back now, voice low and sinful. “Told you,” he whispered, lips curving into a smirk against your skin. “Even if he did wake up, he’d just go back to sleep.” But he didn’t pull his hand away. If anything, he pressed it firmer against your mouth, his other hand gripping your hip as he began to move again, slower, deeper thrusts that dragged along every inch of you.
He fucked you like he had all night, like his best friend wasn’t sleeping just a few feet away. Every time you gasped, he gave you a warning squeeze. Every time your body tightened around him, he whispered praise against your neck. “You’re so good for me,” he murmured, his pace never faltering. “So quiet, even when I know you wanna scream.”
Yunho’s thrusts stayed slow, but they’d grown heavier, more intentional. His hand stayed wrapped over your mouth, palm damp with the soundless moans you kept trying not to let out. The other was anchored at your hip now, keeping you in place, guiding every roll of his hips into yours with precision. He was breathing harder now, quiet exhales brushing your shoulder as he bent over you, his chest pressing to your back, his dick dragging deep with each measured thrust. And you didn’t hear it. You didn’t see it. But Yunho did.
A shift across the room. A faint creak of mattress springs. A sudden absence of snoring. Yunho glanced up from the curve of your spine, eyes lifting just over your shoulder toward the other bed and froze. Mingi. Eyes half lidded, face barely visible in the shadows. Awake and watching. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared across the dark room, one hand resting under the covers, the other loosely curled by his face. His expression was unreadable, half asleep or maybe just mesmerized, but he made no effort to look away.
And Yunho held the stare. His lips curled into the faintest smirk as he gave one slow, deliberate thrust, his hips grinding into you just enough to make your eyes roll back, a soft whimper muffled against his hand. You didn’t notice the shift. Didn’t notice the way Yunho’s attention was split now, half on you, half on his best friend watching silently from the dark as he bent lower again, lips brushing your ear. “You’re doing so good,” he whispered, voice silk and fire. “Being so quiet for me.”
And then, eyes still locked on Mingi’s, he thrust again, deeper this time and Mingi’s fingers twitched beneath the sheet making Yunho’s grin deepen. But you? You were too far gone, blissfully unaware, face buried in the pillow, body arching back into every punishingly slow stroke as Yunho licked his lips, gaze never breaking because he knew exactly what he was doing. He didn’t look away. Not when Mingi’s eyes stayed on him. Not when the blanket over Mingi shifted just slightly, just enough to catch the movement of his hand sliding lower beneath the sheets.
He watched. Controlled. Kept his rhythm steady. All while you writhed beneath him, unaware that your entire body had become a private performance. For him. And now for Mingi as well. You whimpered again, eyes squeezed shut, back arching helplessly against the slow, possessive drag of Yunho’s dick inside you. His hand was still over your mouth, his other gripping your hip so tight it would bruise by morning. His breath hitched once as he watched the outline of Mingi’s hand begin to move, slow and steady, under the blanket.
Yunho’s lips brushed your ear again, voice low, but there was something else behind it now. A sharpness. “You’re taking me so well, baby,” he whispered, just loud enough for both of you to hear. “So wet for me… always so ready.” You let out a muffled moan, head turning toward the pillow, desperate and overstimulated as Yunho’s gaze flicked back to Mingi. Still watching. Still moving under the sheets, hand clearly wrapped around his own dick. Good.
Without warning, Yunho slowly pulled out of you. You whimpered in protest, wriggling your hips back toward him, but he was already moving, shifting, rolling you onto your back with careful hands making You blink up at him, dazed. “Yunho?” He shushed you with a kiss, slow and soft, one hand brushing your hair out of your face. “Shhh. Want to see you.” Before you could answer, his hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open, lifting your legs up, bending them at the knees and hooking them over his broad shoulders.
You gasped. The stretch. The angle. The intimacy of it. Was almost overwhelming as he pushed back in making your hands fly to your mouth, eyes wide as his dick slid back inside you with one slow, perfect thrust. Yunho groaned, quiet but guttural, his eyes never leaving yours. His grip on your thighs tightened, jaw flexing as he pulled almost all the way out and pushed in again, deeper, smoother, harder. “You’re so tight like this,” he rasped. “So fucking perfect.”
You could barely breathe, barely think, caught between the sweet stretch and the shameful thrill of getting fucked just feet away from your boyfriend’s best friend. But he wasn’t sleeping. Mingi’s eyes were wide now, the blanket tugged a little higher up his chest as his hand moved steadily beneath it. He was panting, trying to stay silent, trying not to move the bed. And Yunho was watching every second of it like it was his own personal reward. He looked back down at you, smiling through grit teeth. “Look at you,” he whispered. “Trying so hard not to scream for me.”
You bit your lip hard. Your whole body was coiled tight, legs trembling where they hung over his shoulders, your nails digging into the sheets. And Yunho leaned down, folding you in half more, driving even deeper as his voice dropped to a murmur, for your ears alone. But his eyes stayed on Mingi. “You’re mine.” He murmured against your skin, his voice rough, ragged, but controlled just like everything else about him.
You moaned, quiet and ruined, your hands gripping the sheets like you were trying to stay grounded. And then he grinned. That crooked, dangerous grin he only wore when he knew he had all the power. “And my best friend,” he whispered, dipping closer, his lips brushing your jaw as his voice dropped to a low, amused purr, “is getting himself off to us right now.”
Your eyes flew open. “WHAT?” You tried to turn your head, but Yunho caught your jaw, holding it gently, kissing the corner of your mouth like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb in your chest. “Mmm mmm,” he murmured, voice like velvet sin. “Eyes on me, baby.” And then he started to really move. Not slow this time. Not soft. He drove into you with one powerful thrust, then another, his hips slamming against the back of your thighs with each stroke, the angle hitting so deep it had your mouth falling open in a silent cry.
“Now you’re being loud,” he groaned, burying himself to the hilt. “What happened to being quiet for me, huh?” You whimpered, blinking through tears as your entire body rocked beneath him as he leaned down again, pressing your legs further up, deeper inside you now, your body stretching around him, made to take him like this. “Can’t help it?” he cooed, taunting, lips curling against your cheek. “Knowing he’s over there watching me fuck you like this?”
You finally turned your head and saw Mingi. His eyes blown wide, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling fast as he sat halfway up in bed now, one hand fisted under the covers, the other braced behind him. He looked wrecked. Desperate. Guilty and aroused all at once. And the sight of it made you choke on a gasp as Yunho kept moving, dragging a hand down your body, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he pounded into you. “Don’t stop now,” he groaned, kissing the corner of your mouth. “He’s already seen everything.”
Yunho was a man possessed now, hips driving into you like he was chasing a high he knew only you could give him. Your thighs trembled where they clung to his shoulders, every stroke sending waves of heat rippling through your core. You were clenching so hard around him, gasping with every thrust, your fingers tangled in the sheets like they were the only thing keeping you tethered. He felt it. He knew you were close. And so did Mingi who was still perched in bed, frozen but visibly falling apart, his chest rising and falling fast beneath his tank top, eyes locked on where Yunho was splitting you open.
Yunho turned his head just slightly, lips parted in a breathless smirk. Then, without warning he ripped the blanket off the both of you and yossed it aside like it was in the damn way. The room was dark, but not dark enough. The lights outside bled just enough silver through the curtains to illuminate your slick thighs, the glossy mess coating Yunho’s length every time he pulled out, and the way your soaked pussy clung to him like a vice, starting to squirt as he kept rutting, pounding into you, grunting, digging his fingers into your waist and slamming into you again, harder, deeper, and your body snapped.
You arched, crying out. And then you broke. A wave of liquid shot out of you, soaking Yunho’s lower stomach, the sheets beneath you, everything. “Fuck,” Yunho hissed, head tipping back as he felt you squirt fully around him, your body twitching violently with the force of it. He looked straight at Mingi, his voice smug, breathless, and absolutely filthy. “She always does that when I fuck her just right,” he groaned. “Makes the prettiest fucking mess.”
Mingi’s mouth parted, his eyes wide and dark, jaw slack as he watched your body convulse under Yunho’s, still trembling, overstimulated and leaking. You were panting, wrecked, barely able to process the aftermath as Yunho leaned over you again, licking sweat from your neck and whispering, “You should’ve seen his face, baby.” And then, with a slow, deep thrust that made you whimper. “He’s never gonna forget this.”
You were shaking, thighs trembling against Yunho’s broad shoulders, your chest heaving, lips parted in a dazed, fucked out expression. And still he didn’t stop. Yunho dragged his dick out slow, savoring the squelch of your soaked cunt clinging to him before slamming back in again deeper making you entire body jolt. “Y….Yunho…” you gasped, a sob laced with pleasure spilling from your throat. “I…. I can’t…”
“Yes, you can,” he growled, thrusting harder now, both hands gripping your waist as he rocked into you. “You’re gonna come again for me, baby. Right here. Just like that.” He shifted one hand lower, thumb slipping between your bodies to find your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles as he pounded into you relentlessly. And the pressure…. it was too much. You shook your head, back arching, voice cracking, “Baby….. it’s…. fuck too much”
“Oh, I know,” Yunho breathed, dragging his teeth over your collarbone. “That’s why it feels so fucking good.” You didn’t even hear Mingi anymore. Didn’t notice the way he was breathing harder, the way the sheets rustled with movement across the room as fucked his hand imagining he was buried inside you along with Yunho. But Yunho did. He lifted his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, eyes locking with Mingi’s and grinned. And then, softly… tauntingly, “You gonna come with her, Mingi?”
Mingi froze, just a beat, before his head tipped back, a low moan slipping out, finally, completely involuntary. The sound of him made you blink, dazed and to clench Yunho a little harder as he leaned in again, voice a low, dangerous hum at your ear. “He’s fucking his fist right now watching me fuck you. And I haven’t even really started yet.” Your eyes flew open, the reality hitting you like lightning as Yunho’s hand slid to your throat, not tight, just there. Possessive. Calming. Claiming. “Look at me,” he whispered. “You’re mine. He knows it. He can fucking watch.”
And then he slammed into you again and you cried out, sharp, loud, broken and Yunho groaned as you clenched around him, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, body convulsing beneath him as slick poured out of you, your vision going white behind your eyes and Mingi’s moan hit the dark air right after. He couldn’t hold it back. His release ripped through him in silence and shame and awe, his chest heaving, hand still under the blanket, eyes wide and locked on you.
Yunho didn’t stop moving until your legs fell from his shoulders, until you were trembling and gasping and completely ruined. Only then did he slow, finally leaning down, pressing kisses along your jaw, his voice soft now, intimate. “You’re perfect.” Then, louder. For Mingi. “But she’s not done yet.”
Mingi knew he should’ve looked away. The second he opened his eyes and realized what was happening, what Yunho was doing to you just a few feet away, he should’ve rolled over, closed his eyes, pretended to still be asleep. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He laid there in the dark, heart hammering against his ribs, trying to stay still, to stay silent, as he watched you unravel beneath Yunho, sheets pushed aside, shirt bunched at your ribs, legs shaking, gasping and moaning into his hand like it was the only thing keeping you from screaming.
Mingi’s hand had drifted down before he even registered it, sliding beneath his waistband, fingers curling around himself. Yunho was fucking you slow, deep, possessive. Every stroke was like a threat and a promise, and when your body arched and you squirted, Jesus Christ, Mingi nearly came right then. He’d never seen anything so raw. So fucking real. Then Yunho looked at him. Locked eyes across the room. And grinned. Like he knew Mingi would never forget this. Now here Yunho was like the devil incarnate saying you weren’t done yet.
Mingi blinked. Heart stuttering as Yunho turned his head and looked right at him, still inside you, his voice low, cocky, and utterly in control. “Come on, princess,” he murmured. “You already came once. You might as well come help me wreck her.” Your head turned weakly toward Mingi, eyes hazy, lips swollen and parted. You were still panting, your body a trembling mess, but you didn’t say no. You didn’t say anything. And that silence made Mingi’s pulse slam into overdrive.
“You want him, don’t you?” Yunho whispered, tilting your face toward his. “You’ve thought about it. I know you have.” You didn’t answer with words but your thighs clenched involuntarily around Yunho’s waist and he smirked. “That’s what I thought.” He looked at Mingi again. “Take your shirt off.”
Mingi hesitated, his whole body frozen between desire and disbelief. But then he saw the way you looked at him, tired, wrecked, but eyes flicking down his bare chest when he sat up, pupils blown wide with curiosity. With want. So he stood and walked toward the bed slowly and Yunho leaned down, kissed your throat, then looked up at Mingi with a grin that wasn’t just invitation, it was challenge. “You’ve seen what I can do to her,” he murmured. “Now show me what you want to do.”
Yunho's challenge hung in the air, his voice low and commanding as he kept his dick buried deep inside you, the slow grind of his hips never faltering. Mingi hesitated at first, his face flushed deep red, eyes darting between his best friend’s possessive stare and the way your body trembled beneath him. But the tension built thickly in the dim hotel room, the city lights casting faint shadows across all of you. And slowly, Mingi shifted, his own dick still hard and leaking from the earlier release as he dropped to his knees beside your bed, drawn in despite the disbelief etched on his features, until he was right there beside you both.
Yunho's hand stayed firm around your throat, not squeezing too tight but holding you in place with that dominant grip, while his thrusts remained deliberate and unhurried. He pulled back almost all the way before sinking in again, stretching you open inch by inch, making sure you felt every ridge of him. "That's it, Mingi," Yunho murmured, his tone laced with taunt. "Come taste her. She's dripping all over my dick, and I know you want it."
Mingi swallowed hard, his breath ragged, but he moved, positioning his face near where your bodies joined. His tongue flicked out tentatively at first, lapping at your swollen clit with wet, broad strokes that sent sparks shooting through your overstimulated nerves. The sensation layered on top of Yunho's steady fucking, his dick sliding in and out right against Mingi's mouth, and Mingi groaned into you, the vibration rumbling through you. He didn't stop there, his tongue working eagerly now, circling your clit before dragging lower to swipe along the base of Yunho's dick as it plunged into you. The dual sensation was overwhelming, hot, slick pressure on your clit combined with the way Mingi's lips brushed Yunho's dick on every thrust.
Yunho grunted in approval, his hips picking up just a fraction, still controlled but deeper, filling you completely each time as Mingi's free hand wrapped around his own dick again, stroking it with desperate pumps, his fingers slick with his previous cum as he fucked his fist in time with the rhythm. He was overstimulated already, his body twitching from the intensity, yet he couldn't pull away, his tongue lapping messily at both of you, tasting your arousal mixed with the faint salt of Yunho's skin.
Your moans grew louder despite the hand on your throat, muffled only partially as Yunho's fingers tightened just enough to remind you that just because his best friend had joined, you were still his. Pleasure built in waves, your pussy clenching around Yunho's while Mingi's tongue flicked relentlessly over your clit, sucking gently now and then before returning to lap at the spot where Yunho entered you.
Mingi whimpered into you, his hand moving faster on himself, hips bucking into his own grip as overstimulation hit him hard, his dick throbbing, yet he kept going, chasing another release as Yunho watched it all with a dark grin, his gaze locked on Mingi even as he drove into you, the pace dragging out every sensation until your body quivered on the edge again. The minutes stretched on like that, Yunho's thrusts unyielding, each one pushing you higher while Mingi's tongue worked you over, alternating between your clit and the length of Yunho sliding past his lips.
Sweat beaded on Mingi's forehead, his strokes on his own dick growing erratic from the overload, but he didn't stop, his mouth open and hungry against you both. You felt the coil tightening in your core, your walls fluttering around Yunho as another orgasm built, slow and inevitable from the prolonged attention until finally, Yunho's control snapped just enough. His hand gripped Mingi's hair roughly, fingers tangling in the strands to hold him in place as his hips snapped forward harder. "Fuck, that's it," he growled, his dick pulsing inside you as he came, flooding you deep with hot spurts that filled you full.
His throat grip stayed possessive, anchoring you as his release triggered yours, your body convulsed, pussy squeezing him tight while you came hard around him, juices mixing with his own and coating Mingi's tongue who followed right after, his own orgasm hitting with a choked moan, his hand jerking his dick as he spilled again onto the side of the bed, overstimulated and trembling from the shared intensity. Yunho didn't let go immediately, keeping Mingi's face pressed close as the aftershocks rolled through all three of you, the room filling with heavy breaths and ragged gasps.
Then after the silence, a sudden burst of laughter left you, coming out breathless and full of amusement. “What?” Yunho pulled out of you, sitting back on his knees as Mingi moved back on the floor. “Wooyoung and Jongho are right next door.” You snorted because in the end, you were loud, all of you were. “Oh…” Yunho grinned and looked down at Mingi who shook his head, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
“I hate both of you.”
He absolutely didn’t. And he absolutely was thinking about doing it all over again.
⟢ genre: friends to lovers, slight angst, fluff, college au
⟢ word count: 3.1k
⟢ summary: getting to kiss your crush during a spin the bottle round sounded like a dream. when your crush just so happened to be your best friend, however? things could maybe get a little bit complicated…
⟢ author’s note: i couldn’t come up with any proper title for this story so this one will have to do. cliché. straight to the point. anyway, this was a request from this prompt list and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you enjoy it<3
In all the years that you and Seungmin had been friends, there had not once been an awkward moment between the two of you.
Being with each other was like breathing—natural, easy. You didn’t have to think of what topic to bring up in order to keep the conversation going, because just seeing one another was enough for your words to flow freely. And, even then, you didn’t need to talk in order to fill the silence at all, because even if silence took over, it was always a rather comfortable one that could never turn awkward between you and him.
Until that night.
You knew nothing good could come from playing spin the bottle when your crush was sitting right there next to you. Even worse, when said crush of yours sitting right there just so happened to be your best friend.
You had turned it down immediately, actually. The moment one of your friends brought the idea up, you were fast to shake your head in disagreement—not even dreaming of playing and either getting to kiss Seungmin and put your friendship at risk, or possibly seeing him kiss someone else right in front of you.
But then you looked next to you, to your quite eager best friend already standing up to join the circle being formed by everyone else sitting down on the floor, and suddenly the image of him kissing someone else weighted more than the one of you ruining your friendship, and before you could give it a second thought, your legs were already pulling you up and dragging you towards the rest of the group.
Seungmin looked up to you as you came closer to him, only to furrow his eyebrows in confusion when you walked past him and sat diagonally to where he was, instead of next to him like he had expected you to. Tilting his head, you didn’t need him to say anything for you to understand what he was asking you. And you simply shook your head, giving him a soft, closed-mouth smile in reply—silently telling him not to sweat it.
You, on the other hand, were sweating it.
Three rounds in, and with two out of three pairings having made out in front of the entire room—one of them having stuck to taking the penalty shot—you felt your stomach twist as soon as the bottle was spinned once again and you watched the bottom of it land on Seungmin, while its top roughly missed you by one person.
Petrified, and as if you had rehearsed it, both you and him followed the tip of the bottle towards the girl sitting down next to you like you were in a horror movie.
A part of you wanted to stand up and leave. Another wanted to just shove her out of the way so you could take her place. The most desperate one, the one that could not imagine a world where Kim Seungmin kissed someone else who wasn’t you, wanted to go over to your best friend, grab him by the collar of his white t-shirt, and bring his mouth up to yours.
The simple thought of him kissing someone else was killing you from the inside, and you would be damned if you didn’t do something about it while you still could.
Your body, however, did nothing. As pathetic as it was, you just sat there, frozen—waiting for them to kiss right then and there, in front of your very own desolate eyes.
Nevertheless, although you couldn’t physically bring yourself to do something about it, Seungmin could.
Without a single word, and having thrown a quick glance your way, he reached for one of the shots that had already been poured with liquor for those who chose to pass from having to kiss the person they’d gotten—downing it all in one go, and leaving you to wonder why he had wanted to play this game in the first place if he wasn’t willing to kiss whoever the bottle landed on.
His eyes locked with yours once more, and although your heart felt at ease over him having refused to kiss another girl—whose face you couldn’t bring yourself to look at after the rejection she had gone through, as you could only guess she felt a bit bummed—you couldn’t push away the anxious thoughts filling your head.
Was he planning to kiss someone in particular that night? Was his heart already taken and you didn’t know? Or was he simply playing for the sake of taking as many shots as he could in order to get drunk?
Whatever the answer was, you should’ve known better than to keep playing after the whirlwind your heart had just gone through. You should’ve gotten up and quit playing at that very moment. Maybe then the bottle wouldn’t have landed on you and Seungmin two rounds later.
Maybe then, Seungmin would’ve taken another shot in order to avoid kissing someone else once again, unlike when he realised it was you the bottle was pointing at. He didn’t even look at the shots laid in front this time—his chocolate eyes carefully staring at you instead, waiting to see what your move was before he could make his.
Maybe then, you wouldn’t have ended up kissing your best friend that night and putting your entire friendship on the line.
Because now, as the two of you left the party earlier than you had initially intended to, and the awkward silence took over your walk home for the first time in the entire length of your friendship, you couldn’t help but regret what happened altogether.
He was your best friend, your favourite person in the world.
He was your rock, the one you ran to every single time no matter what.
He was the one person you couldn’t lose, and now you might be just about to, for you knew your friendship would not be the same from now on. It couldn’t be, not after you had chosen not to take that shot and saw the brightest yet shiest of smiles you’d ever seen on him. Not after he had crawled over to you and cupped your face like you were the most precious person on Earth, and he kissed you like you were the only two people in the world.
After kissing him back the way you had, bringing him closer to you by placing your hand on his nape and pulling him into one last kiss just as he was beginning to pull back, you were well aware that your friendship would never go back to the way it was.
As neither of you dared to say anything, regardless of how desperate you were to cut the overwhelming tension that had been following you ever since you pulled away from that kiss and came down from the high that had been to feel his lips on yours, a cold breeze of air got you hugging yourself and rubbing your naked arms in hopes to bring some heat to your body—only getting to dwell on the fact that you had not brought a jacket for a few seconds before you felt the soft fabric of Seungmin’s zip-up hoodie on your shoulders.
Unlike any other time when you would feel butterflies flying around your stomach over such a loving act of his, now you could only feel your stomach twist in anxiety.
“Seungmin…” your voice came out weaker than you intended, finally breaking the silence as you slid the hoodie down your arms before you could hand it back to him. “No…”
He frowned in confusion, staring down at the black piece of clothing you were offering back. “No, what?”
“We shouldn’t…”
“We shouldn’t, what?” He pushed you to say it.
You sighed, motioning for him to take the hoodie from your hands once more as you struggled to find the right words. “We already crossed the line earlier tonight… this would be, like, for us to keep crossing it…”
If you thought his eyebrows couldn’t furrow any closer together, you were wrong. Still, he finally—and reluctantly—grabbed his hoodie before he could reply. “We already crossed it, though… Why would this make any difference?”
“Because,” you frustratedly began, throwing your head slightly back. “Things wouldn’t go back to being the same”.
“Well, they won’t be the same, Y/N…” he carefully pointed out. “We kissed”.
You closed your eyes at that last statement, unable to stop the memories of his soft lips moving against yours from replaying in your head.
“It was spin the bottle, we had to…” you tried to minimize it, looking down to your feet.
“No, we didn't have to,” he denied in a heartbeat, taking a step closer to you. “We had a choice. I took the shot of soju when the bottle landed on that one other girl before you”.
“Why didn’t you take it when it landed on me, then?” Your unsure words abandoned your mouth before you could stop them.
Seungmin let out what seemed like a mixture of a scoff and an incredulous laugh, as if you had just asked him the most ridiculous thing in the world, and you felt your breath get caught in your throat when he came closer to you.
“I think you know very well why I didn’t, Y/N…” his voice was determined yet soft as ever, cupping your face just like he had done earlier that night, as he looked for your eyes. “Why didn’t you?”
You shook your head no, freeing yourself from his grasp and taking a step back from him, as you wished you could just vanish and never have to go through that talk at all.
But he was right in front of you, looking at you in such a hurt yet hopeful manner that made a part of you—the one attached to your heart, you could tell—want to risk it all.
Although he was your best friend and you didn’t want things to change, you had feelings for him, and that alone wasn’t an easy detail to ignore—let alone when he was right there, openly letting you know he felt the same for you.
“We should get back to our dorms,” you settled for a change of topic, turning around to resume your walk. “We’re only halfway there”.
“Don’t…” he let out a heavy sigh, standing in his place and watching you get further away from him, before he composed himself and sped up towards you. “We’re not done talking, Y/N”.
“There’s no need for us to talk about it”.
“Yes, we need to talk about it,” he finally caught up to you, blocking your way by standing right in front of you. “We need to talk about it because I need you to tell me it meant something to you, too”.
You looked away from him to the dark sky, and then down to your fidgeting hands. If you looked at him and those puppy eyes you loved so much, you knew you would only cave in.
“It’s not that simple…” you whispered.
“It is that simple, Y/N” he disagreed. “We kissed. We chose not to take that shot. It has to mean something, doesn’t it?”
“It was just a silly game we played at a college party” you helplessly tried to take importance away from it once again. “We were drunk, it didn’t mean—”
“I wasn’t drunk,” he cut you off immediately, refusing to let you finish that sentence. “I wasn’t drunk, and I know for a fact that neither were you, so don’t you try and blame this on the alcohol. You don’t get to kiss me and pretend it meant nothing”.
“You’re the one who kissed me, though…” you found yourself once again avoiding his eyes when you felt him tense up.
“And you kissed me back, didn’t you?” Seungmin reminded you, managing to bring your eyes back to lock with his unwavering ones. “You could’ve taken that shot of soju if you didn’t want to kiss me so bad, why didn’t you?” He asked again.
You bit your lip, looking down to your feet as you realised you wouldn’t be able to avoid his question forever—not when he knew you like the back of his hand. “I didn’t want to take it…”
Although you were not looking at him, you could feel his lips parting into a smile.
“Why are we even having this argument if we both feel the same, then?” He wondered out loud, and you couldn’t help the corners of your lips from curving up.
No matter how hard you tried to fight it, and no matter how scared you were of the future that awaited for the two of you now that everything was out in the open, knowing that he, too, had feelings for you, made your heart feel like jumping out of your chest in pure, raw happiness.
“You’re my best friend, Min” you reminded him, as well as yourself. “Even if we do have feelings for each other, things could get so complicated and I… I just, I can’t lose you”.
Seungmin smiled softly—his gentle hands holding both sides of your face before he leaned in just enough for his nose to rub on yours.
“You won’t lose me” he affirmed—his hot breath tickling your mouth. “Come on now. We’ve been friends since fucking fifth grade, if we were to split up at some point, we would’ve done it by now”.
“Romantic relationships are very different from a simple friendship, though…”
“I know…” he nodded. “I’m not saying things won’t change, because they will. But it’s us we’re talking about, I don’t have a single doubt that we will work out. We just make sense, Y/N. It’s always been us two” his determined, genuine words, were enough to put all your troubles at ease. “And I don’t know about you, but I would rather risk it all with you than to just let this go for the sake of our friendship and then have you fall for someone else later on. I personally wouldn’t be able to take it, and our friendship would be ruined anyway because I would have to pull away in order to get over you”.
You let out a weak, brittle laugh, that had him questioningly tilting his head.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” you denied with a light shake of your head, choosing not to keep what was going through your head this time. “I would just probably die of a heartbreak if you ever fell for someone else. I almost did when I thought you were kissing that one girl tonight”.
This time, Seungmin laughed as well—wholeheartedly. Tightening his hold on your face, he leaned in even closer, causing goosebumps to show on your skin when his mouth brushed over yours.
“Can we just give us a try then?” He asked, locking his hopeful eyes with yours. “Not like I would’ve kissed her to begin with, or like I would fall for anyone else given how head over heels I am for you, but I don’t want you to die”.
You felt your chest fill up with nothing but love, admiring the playful pout he had formed on his bottom lip, and having to let out another laugh in order to get out all the bliss you were feeling right then under his touch.
“You’re a dork” you said lovingly, feeling your own eyes softening before you pulled him into a kiss that he didn’t wait to return.
This one was slower than the first—the two of you taking your sweet time to learn and remember every corner of each other’s mouth, as not a single hurry came from the isolated street and the dim lights illuminating it.
Somehow, right then, as he tenderly let you know how much you meant to him without uttering a word, all your previous worries didn’t seem so big anymore—if anything, they felt tiny as ever.
He was right, after all. The two of you made sense. You always had.
The hotness of his mouth and the warmth of his body could almost make you ignore the wind blowing against your back, but the unintended shiver that shook your body was enough for him to slowly withdraw his swollen lips from yours.
“Will you accept my hoodie now that we very clearly crossed the line?” He mumbled teasingly.
A small giggle escaped your mouth, and you found yourself nodding in defeat.
Not really pulling away from him, you let him put the black hoodie he had been holding this whole time on you—eyes carefully following his hands down to the hem of it, and watching them come closer to your face as he zipped it all the way up to your neck.
“Better?” He asked, just as his hands loosely found their way around your waist once again and he leaned in to rest his forehead on yours.
“Mhm…” you softly hummed against his mouth. “I do have one question, though”.
“Hm?” He hummed back, leaning in to steal one more kiss—and with that, another breathy laugh, as you decided you could get used to it—from your lips.
“Why did you want to play that stupid game if you didn’t want to kiss anyone but me?”
He shrugged, tenderly running his hands down your now covered arms. “I just hoped the odds would be in my favour somehow and I’d get to kiss you tonight”.
“I almost didn’t play, you know?” You brought up with a sly smile, much to his surprise. “I didn’t want to”.
“Why did you, then?”
You shrugged as well, fixing your eyes on the collar of his t-shirt. “I saw you were playing and I just went over there before I could realise”.
He smiled brightly, pulling you in by your waist and having you naturally place your palms on his chest. “You’re so whipped for me”.
You rolled your eyes at his cocky ways. “Says the one who was hoping for the odds to play in his favour”.
“And they did, didn’t they?” He smirked triumphantly. “You even sat across from me so it could work for us and all”.
Biting your tongue as you once again accepted defeat, you turned your head to the side, not to let him notice the burning heat in your cheeks and to see the smile that was already curving up your mouth. “I’ll have you know I’m never following you into that game ever again”.
“Oh, I’m not playing it ever again anyway,” he declared nonchalantly, making you turn your face to him by placing two fingers on your chin, and not waiting another second to look for your lips, as he didn’t seem to get enough of you. “I already got the girl I wanted, you’re the only one I’m kissing from now on”.
SMUT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
warnings: intentional lowercase, established relationship, oral sex (f), multiple orgasms, pet names (my love, pretty girl, baby), small mention of stalking and manipulation.
word count: 771
+18 CONTENT BELOW THE CUT MDNI
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San would be so gentle and slow while eating you out.
after your shower, San ended up between your legs, caressing the soft skin of your thighs while leaving soft kisses, murmuring soft praises to the plump flesh.
"you're beautiful, my love," he muttered, before flattening his tongue on top of your folds, making you sigh out and throw your head back on the mattress. your hand reached for his soft, dark hair, playing with his locks as he gave languid licks over your clit, flicking it slowly as if it were a cat grooming itself.
his tongue came to lick long stripes up your slit, prodding at the entrance as if asking for permission, although you both knew he didn't need it. a loud moan of his name rolled off your lips, your fingers tightening around his hair and pulling him closer once his tongue pushed inside, feeling its warmth as it licked your arousal. his gaze landed on your face, your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him with half-lidded eyes, your glossy lips parted in a soft symphony of moans and whines, begging him to keep going. "mmfuck, Sannie. don't stop." you whined, tensing your belly as you felt his thumb come to rub your clit, as his tongue kept being pushed in and out of you in swift motions.
he relished in the way you squirmed under his touch, enjoying how you were completely undone for him in a matter of minutes. he pulled off your pussy just slightly, enough to get oxygen back into his lungs, slurping your arousal with an obscene squelch. he looked at you while taking some air, letting you see the way his face glistened with your arousal, from the tip of his nose all the way to his neck. "you look so sexy like that." you muttered, making him chuckle before diving back in, flattening his tongue on your clit, going back to the soft, languid licks, but this time with two of his fingers running through your folds, gathering enough slick before slowly pushing them inside of you, a loud moan escaping you.
"San!" you whined, squirming and feeling tears beginning to well up in your eyes. San looked up at you with his brows furrowed, a low hum vibrating around your clit as he used the hand that was wrapped around your thigh and settled in your hip bone to pull you back closer to his face, making his teeth slightly graze your bundle of nerves, a cry of pleasure rolling off your parted lips. "Sannie, please..." you begged, unsure of what exactly you were begging for. but still, he knew. he knew you better than you knew yourself. his tongue continued his assault on your abused clit, feeling how your release was nearing at the way your belly tensed and your grip on his hair got tighter. "come on, pretty girl, cum for me." he allowed as he curled his fingers deliciously, finding your g-spot expertly. his fingers pushed on the spongy spot, making your climax come crashing down as the pleasure became too much to bear, your legs closing around his head as your hands grabbed onto his hair for dear life. he took his fingers out, lowering his head just enough to be able to lick all of the arousal dripping out you, not letting a single drop go to waste.
he continued licking you up, even after your hands tried to push his head away, "c'mon. you can take more, baby." he reminded, going back to the lazy, languid kitten licks across you pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head and your brows furrow, pleasure etched in every feature of your face, as his fingers went back inside you and kept curling and pushing against the spot that made you see stars behind your closed eyes, the pleasure quickly building back up again. your second orgasm washed over you, your thighs clamping around his head, back arching off the bed as your mouth fell open in a scream of his name.
he relished in the way you kept moaning in pleasure, knowing that even after two earth-shattering orgasms, you could take more. because San knew you, he knew you better than anyone could, after so long watching you in the shadows, always watching you through the small, imperceptible camera he had installed in your room in one of his many visits, when you weren't home. and he would make sure to be the only one to be able to taste you like that,
later that night, he almost felt guilty for stalking you and manipulating you into liking him.
almost.
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