#JIHOON IS SO SMALL

[xinganhao]

🍂 svt (taylor's version).

⌗ ┆love song edition ★ ₊ ˚ heartbreak edition.

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: angst... so much angst, deteriorating relationships, break-ups, exes, red flags -ish, mentions of alcohol/drinking, cussing, pet names. drabbles under the cut.

🍂 hit play .ᐟ

SEUNGCHEOL SKIPPED 🎧 i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best, but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me. (PEACE)

seungcheol can't meet any of his friends' eyes as he grumbles on and on about you. the boys think he's drunk off his ass at this point; truthfully, he can still see and think pretty clearly. a part of him feels like he's wasting your honor, to be so openly bitching and moaning about why he shouldn't, why he can't go back to you. the short story is that seungcheol doesn't want you to be collateral damage. with the life he lives? you'll always be in the line of fire. he'd rather cut ties than have that happen. but— when someone mumbles something about seungcheol probably not being that in love with you after all? about his love being 'for show'? he almost wants to scream. you don't know me, he nearly snaps. you don't know what i'd do for them. he'd die for you in secret.

JEONGHAN SKIPPED 🎧 you said it was a great love, one for the ages; but if the story's over, why am i still writing pages? (DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS)

you don't say anything about jeonghan taking the long way home, which leaves him both grateful and frustrated. he wants you to call him out, wants you to question his intentions. anything but this. instead, you sit quietly in the passenger seat, basking in the aftermath of your last good day together. when jeonghan stops at an intersection, he dares to glance over at you. his fingers tighten imperceptibly around the steering wheel. there had been a time when the two of you kissed at red lights, when you'd quieted all his fears with the touch of your hand. there's none of that now. you keep your eyes on the road ahead, feigning ignorance at the way jeonghan is driving way below the speed limit. the light turns green; he curses the universe for it. he doesn't want to go home. going home meant sleeping, and sleeping meant waking up to a morning where you'd no longer be his.

JOSHUA SKIPPED 🎧 you had a speech, you're speechless. love slipped beyond your reaches and i couldn't give a reason. (CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS)

joshua had watched a dozen videos about how to get down on one knee when proposing. he didn't realize he'd be on both knees, begging you to stay. that's why his right knee— the one that hadn't expected the cold ground— is just a little sore. he kneads it mindlessly, watching blankly as the city flies by. he didn't even get to pull out the ring; it's still burning a hole in to his pocket. a blessing from his mother, a curse in the form of rose gold. he briefly contemplates leaving it in this train car for someone who might actually appreciate it, though he decides against it last minute. a thought occurs to him when he passes your station. it's enough to nearly make him laugh. (or burst in to tears. he can't quite decide.) joshua realizes: he's never going to be able to take a train again without thinking of you. somehow, that's even worse than the botched proposal.

JUNHUI SKIPPED 🎧 i guess sometimes we all get some kind of haunted. (MIDNIGHT RAIN)

both of junhui's hands are shaking as he takes the stage. there's smattering applause, then there's a trophy being shoved towards him, then there's the glare of a dozen cameras. he thanks his manager. he thanks his fans, his family, his friends. "and—" his breath hitches. it's a good thing that he's such a great actor. otherwise, one might've seen the flicker of pain on his expression. because he's thinking of you. wondering whether you're watching live or if you'll see clips of this on your sns later in the week. will you reach out again? or will he be left spending many midnights waiting for a text that's not going to come? he pivots, his eyes seeking out the closest broadcast camera. "and here's to getting just what we wanted," he says smoothly, flashing a grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes. this is why he keeps trying to win— so you'll have no choice but to think of him, too.

SOONYOUNG SKIPPED 🎧 choose something, babe, i got nothing to believe unless you're choosin' me. (YOU'RE LOSING ME)

"i'm the best thing at this party!" you screech, making soonyoung's face flush red with shame. he casts a glance around his surroundings to check if anybody is witnessing your outburst. big mistake. that only seems to aggravate you more. he reaches out for you, his hands closing around the groove of your wrist. there had been a time when he used to feel your pulse flutter at his touch, at his mere presence. there's none of that tonight. he's beginning to think that it hasn't been that way for a long time. you greet his hold with stormy eyes and gritted teeth, with a low hiss of "i only wanted you to see me." he wants to refute your tirade, wants to say that of course he sees you. he's looking right now, isn't he? he's— he's losing you before his very eyes and he doesn't know what to do.

WONWOO SKIPPED 🎧 if our love died young, i can't bear witness. (RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME)

"the usual?" the pitying waiter asks wonwoo. he gives her a close-lipped smile and a nod in return. when she goes in to punch his order, he feels that odd sense of nostalgia. a twisted, treacherous feeling borne from the fact that he's still visiting this damn restaurant. still asking for the seat in the corner, where the light is dim and the tablecloth is a crisp white. first real date. first anniversary. break-up. this corner has seen it all. wonwoo is twenty-eight now, but he feels twenty-three in his fantasy. as he picks at his appetizer, he imagines the new life you lead. somewhere nice with someone who's giving you everything that he can't. he doesn't blame you for leaving, for not waiting. that doesn't make it hurt any less, though. five years later, wonwoo still thinks he's going to stay here forever.

JIHOON SKIPPED 🎧 but there was one thing missing and that was the moment i knew. (THE MOMENT I KNEW)

the seaweed soup on the counter has gotten cold by the time that jihoon slips in to your apartment. you're splayed out on the couch in a fitful sleep. he realizes you haven't even changed, haven't washed off your makeup. it's all still there: the party dress, the red lipstick. all the evidence of jihoon's failure. he knows where this is heading. he sees the ending that he deserves from a mile away. still, he leaves on your coffee table a usb of what he'd been working on. he drapes a blanket over your shoulders. he considers kissing you on the forehead but he decides against it at the last minute. he doesn't think he has that privilege. instead, he takes his leave, knowing that if this was the last gift he got to give you, then he'd be somewhat content. he's always been better at speaking through his work anyway, but tonight that wasn't enough.

★ in the morning, you find the song jihoon had been working on for you:

MINGYU SKIPPED 🎧 i guess you never know; and if you wanted me, you really should've showed. (THE 1)

it shouldn't be this easy, catching up with a what-could-have-been. but mingyu still finds it to be the most comforting thing in the world. maybe too much, though, because as the two of you discuss the greatest films of all time, the alcohol makes his tongue just a little more loose. "if one thing had been different," he muses. "would everything be different today?" you know what he's asking, what he's implying. you answer his prodding with a measured sip of your own beer. he laughs, figuring he deserves that. you're not here to talk about marriage pacts and maybe's. this is nothing more than a drinking session with an old friend; mingyu tries to remind himself of that. he pushes the envelope just a teensy, tiny bit. "it would've been fun," he says as nonchalantly as he can manage. his mind quietly supplies the rest of the sentence: it would've been fun if you had been the one.

SEOKMIN SKIPPED 🎧 you can plan for a change in the weather and time, but i never planned on you changing your mind. (LAST KISS)

it's a special kind of pain, to watch someone's life unfold in pictures. it's the only place that seokmin can catch you nowadays. the squares of instagram. the tagged photos on facebook. you, looking like the life of the party. you, dancing on a rained-out pavement. he's pathetic, he knows, to be stalking an ex's sns like this. but the night is lonely and his phone has the answers to all of his questions about you. well, maybe not all of the questions. he's gnawing his bottom lip as his fingers fly over his keyboard, but it's not to reach out to you. he doesn't want to put you through that; he'll harrow everybody else before he does. the last few connections you two share have all heard from seokmin in one way or another. how are they? he'll text casually. they look like they're doing well.

MINGHAO SKIPPED 🎧 i made you my temple, my mural, my sky, now i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. (TOLERATE IT)

minghao waits by the door like a child reprimanded. you're a couple of paces away from him, bent over the kitchen sink— polishing plates that are already clean. it's an old habit of yours. a telltale sign that something's wrong. he almosts takes your hands in his to keep you from all your nervous tics, but then you speak. "if it's all in my head, tell me now. tell me i've got it wrong," you say, not even bothering to look up at him. minghao has never lied to you; he was not about to start now. and so he stays quiet, giving you all the answers you need. it's not all in your head. you're not wrong, his silence communicates. there's only so much of his indiscretions that you can tolerate. minghao, like always, sits and watches you— watches you learn, watches you lose, watches you leave.

SEUNGKWAN SKIPPED 🎧 sometimes i really wish that i could hate you; i've tried, but that's just somethin' i can't do. (DON'T YOU)

seungkwan will be the first to admit that he doesn't know how to be just friends with you. he wants to. wants to keep that connection in his life, wants to move past the failed relationship for the sake of your camaraderie. but as much as he tries to walk away and go on with his life, he knows it will all just be pretend. he finds someone else. that doesn't work out. he watches you try, too, with others, only for that to fall through as well. and so seungkwan is just a little guilty of smiling at you, of running in to you somewhere and staring just a little too long. he doesn't have the right to say the next couple of words, but he's also never been good at denying himself of the truth. "i missed you," he admits. past tense, he notices, so he amends. "i miss you."

VERNON SKIPPED 🎧 in my dreams, you're touching my face and asking me if i'd want to try again with you— and i almost do. (I ALMOST DO)

vernon has had a long week, thanks for asking. he would have wanted to see the city lights. and he dreams of you, too— montages where you're touching his face, asking if he wants to try again. the answer is simple; the answer is 'yes'. but he's a believer of clean cuts, of movies without sequels. so each time you reach out, there's no reply. the last couple of texts has vernon sighing because he knows what you're thinking. he knows how you think. you've probably concluded that he hates you, that he has better things to do with his time. truthfully, he's been fighting every single impulse to respond. to call just for the sake of hearing your voice. he can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye. he wouldn't survive it.

CHAN SKIPPED 🎧 dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief in the good in the world; you once believed in me. (HITS DIFFERENT)

chan knows he's being insufferable. he knows he's being attention-seeking, knows he's a little petty and a lot unfair. but he can't help it. the mere thought of you with someone else makes him want to hurl on the side of the street. and so he scream-sings your favorite songs in every club; he slurs your name until his friends are shoving him in to an uber. "their love was a lie, you know?" one of them tells him, one particular evening. chan only laughs in their face. that shit was not going to get him by. chan would rather have a raging hangover every morning than think you didn't love him. he'll get over it eventually, he's sure. for now, though, he orders his nth cocktail, much to his friends' exasperation. moving on had always been easy for him to do, but then came you.

[woozisguitar]

LEE JIHOON ONE CHANCE PLEASE (I miss him 😔)

my favourite lo(ser)ver boy I MISS HIM SO MUCH PLEASE 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔💔

[ohmyohan]

the mood is set, so you already know what's next, i got a secret that i wanna show you, you waited long enough

De um relacionamento frustrante e tóxico a encontros casuais que nada resultavam, Yohan se sentia um completo fracasso em sua vida amorosa. O fato de não conseguir controlar isso era ainda pior, ele colocou em sua cabeça que estava na hora de deixar tudo de lado e por algumas semanas obteve sucesso, contudo, aquele fio de esperança movido a algo que o homem não fazia ideia do que era, fez com que Yohan desse uma última chance para um encontro. No entanto, não demorou nem meia hora para compreender que teria um fim como qualquer outro. E, ao final da noite, se encontrou irritado e decepcionado consigo mesmo enquanto dirigia até o local em que a banda de Jihoon estaria tocando naquela noite, a fim de buscar Joshua e ir direto para sua casa, afogar as mágoas e seu fracasso. A procura pelo filho o permitiu observar um pouco do show e quando encontrou quem queria, acabou sentindo-se preso, como se estivesse hipnotizado, ao ver o Choi em cima do palco.

[thedensworld]

Marry A Rich Man | J. Ww

Genre: suggestive, angst, fwb au!, smut

Summary: every parent wanted their daughter to marry a rich man, Jeon Wonwoo. However, you are a rich man.

gif from @meowonhao (he's so fine i just physically and mentally can't (/□＼*))

No warn, just read and find it by yourself:)

You rolled your eyes at the mention of Jeon Wonwoo from Jeon Enterprise. His reputation as a notorious womanizer and all-around arrogant businessman was well known, and the thought of meeting him didn’t exactly excite you. So when your mother brought up the idea, you could hardly hide your disinterest.

“But it’s time for you to start thinking about marriage, Y/N. Don’t you know your younger sister has already been proposed to by her boyfriend?” she pressed, her tone a mix of encouragement and frustration.

“Good for her,” you mumbled with a shrug, not even bothering to meet her eyes.

“At least pretend you're interested. Wonwoo is quite the catch these days among the socialites,” your mother added with a resigned sigh, as if she was pleading more for her own sake than yours.

You stood up from the dinner table, glancing at your watch with a practiced smile. "I’m sorry, but I’ve got to run. There’s a business gathering I need to attend," you said, eager to make your exit.

Your father, who had been mostlydj silent, raised an eyebrow. “A business gathering? Will your friend Wonwoo be there? Say hello to him for me.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Father, you too?" you asked, feeling cornered.

He shrugged, a faint smile on his lips. “Just say hi. That’s all I’m asking. For me.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, shaking your head. “Fine. I’ll say hi.” The words came out reluctantly, but a small part of you wondered just what kind of person this infamous Jeon Wonwoo really was.

And here you were, sitting on a plush couch at a party teeming with young businessmen, most of whom had inherited their wealth rather than earned it. You sat alone at a table near where Jeon Wonwoo and his circle of friends lounged, their laughter loud and effortless. You had been invited by Kim Mingyu, the heir to Kim’s Group and the host of tonight’s extravagant affair. Mingyu and Wonwoo had been best friends since high school, along with familiar names like Seokmin and Junhui, who were part of their elite clique.

Jihoon, the doctor and heir to Seoul University Hospital, sat on a couch nearby with a can of Coke in hand, looking out of place among the champagne glasses and whiskey tumblers. “Too many people. My head hurts,” he muttered to you, rubbing his temple.

You chuckled softly. “That’s Mingyu for you. His social connections are endless. I wasn’t even surprised when I saw popular idols mingling here tonight.”

Jihoon nodded in agreement. “He’s a social butterfly. Sometimes I regret being friends with him,” he said with a wry smile, earning a genuine laugh from you. Jihoon had been your classmate in senior high school, and his deadpan humor was something you’d always appreciated.

Just then, Jihoon raised his hand, waving at someone behind you. You turned, and there he was—Jeon Wonwoo, making his way over, leaving Mingyu and the others behind at their table. He looked just as you had expected—sharp and composed, with an air of casual confidence.

“Can’t handle Mingyu?” Jihoon asked with a teasing grin as Wonwoo grabbed a glass of whiskey before settling into the couch across from you.

“Too much energy,” Wonwoo sighed, shaking his head, but his eyes quickly found yours.

“Nice to see you at a casual event for a change,” he said, his tone smooth, as if he were commenting on something extraordinary. You cursed internally, wishing Mingyu wasn’t your cousin and the reason you had to be here.

Jihoon chuckled. “Right? Y/N must be the hardest-working woman in this room. Always too busy building empires.” He leaned back, glancing at you with a teasing glint. “I saw your new building in Singapore last week, by the way. It looked incredible.”

You raised an eyebrow at both of them. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you asked, feigning offense, though their words had hit a nerve. Sure, you loved your work, but being painted as some workaholic who never had fun wasn’t exactly flattering.

Wonwoo smirked, swirling his whiskey. “It is. Not many people can pull off what you do. I’d say that’s impressive.”

Jihoon nodded, “Agreed. But don’t work too hard, Y/N. Some of us still need you to show up to these parties once in a while.”

You let out a soft laugh, but deep down, their remarks lingered. You were here, weren’t you? Yet somehow, you still felt worlds apart from them.

Jihoon glanced at his phone before letting out a soft sigh. "I should go. My shift starts in half an hour. It was nice seeing both of you here," he said, standing up and stretching slightly. Before leaving, he made a beeline for Mingyu to bid him goodbye.

As Jihoon walked away, Wonwoo turned to you, noticing your subtle discomfort. "Not a fan of parties?" he asked, his voice casual but his eyes sharp, clearly aware of your unease.

You cocked your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "Are you?"

Wonwoo shrugged with a mischievous grin. "I wouldn’t say I am, but Mingyu taught me a lot about how to survive them." He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, leaning a little closer as if sharing a secret.

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed but amused by his charm. "I see. The student surpasses the master, perhaps?"

He smirked, eyes glinting with playful interest. "Only in certain things," he said, the subtle flirtation unmistakable in his tone. He let the moment linger, his gaze never leaving yours.

You held his stare, calm and unfazed. "Lucky you, then."

Wonwoo chuckled again, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "Why don’t we step outside for a bit?" he suggested, leaning in just enough to make it feel intimate. "I know a nice spot nearby. Somewhere quieter."

Intrigued, you glanced at the bustling party around you and nodded. "Lead the way."

He stood up and offered you his arm, which you took with a composed smile. Wonwoo led you out of the party and into the crisp night air. After walking a few blocks through the city’s lively streets, he guided you to an old, tucked-away bookstore. The warm glow from inside spilled onto the sidewalk, and an elderly man at the counter looked up as you entered, his face lighting up in recognition.

"Wonwoo!" the old man greeted with a smile. "Back again?"

Wonwoo nodded, grinning. "Couldn’t stay away for too long, Mr. Han."

The old man gave you a kind look, then returned to his book, leaving you and Wonwoo to browse. "Didn’t think you'd be the type to bring someone here," Mr. Han commented lightly.

Wonwoo chuckled, glancing at you. "Sometimes you just meet the right person."

You let out a soft laugh, strolling through the rows of worn books. "A bookstore at this hour? Unexpected," you remarked, impressed but keeping your composure.

Wonwoo shrugged, his voice low and smooth. "I thought you'd appreciate something different."

He wasn’t wrong. As you wandered through the cozy aisles, the noise of the outside world faded away, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional shared glance.

As the clock struck midnight, Mr. Han locked up the bookstore and waved his goodbyes, leaving you and Wonwoo sitting on the bench just outside. The city had quieted down, and the soft glow of streetlights cast a warm, intimate ambiance around you. You had been talking for hours, the conversation flowing effortlessly as Wonwoo, intrigued by the way you thought, kept throwing different topics your way. Each one seemed to reveal a different layer of you, and he couldn't help but be fascinated.

At one point, the topic turned to wealth and power. You leaned back on the bench, crossing your arms. "When you give a rich man a little power, he thinks he rules the world," you stated, your tone casual but sharp. You had just finished explaining how much you despised the typical behavior of wealthy men—playboys who worked hard only to shower their side chicks with luxury.

Wonwoo paused for a moment, considering your words. Then, with a slight smirk, he responded, "I do feel like I rule the world." His voice was smooth, confident. "But I don’t act the way you think."

You chuckled, raising an eyebrow in challenge. "Liar. You’re quite famous for your playboy reputation, Mr. Jeon. You’ve got a habit of having everything—including any woman you want."

Wonwoo was momentarily caught off guard by the nickname, but he quickly composed himself, flashing a teasing smile. "Playboy agenda? That’s news to me."

"But you can’t deny you have everything," you pointed out, tilting your head slightly as you studied him.

He didn’t even hesitate. "You’re right. I do have everything." His tone was laced with confidence, almost as if he was testing you, waiting to see how you would respond.

You narrowed your eyes, your lips curving into a small, knowing smile. "See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Rich men like you think they own the world, when in reality, they don’t."

Wonwoo let out a genuine laugh, leaning in slightly as if to further draw you into the moment. "Alright then, tell me. What don’t I own?" His voice had dropped lower, almost daring you to challenge him.

You shrugged nonchalantly, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Me. You don’t own me."

The air between you shifted, the playful banter charged with a subtle tension. Wonwoo's eyes lingered on yours, his smirk softening as he took in your words. "Yet," he said, his voice teasing but with an edge of something deeper, something bolder.

*

"You didn’t say my hello to Wonwoo," your father remarked casually as you entered his office the next morning.

You paused mid-step, organizing the files in your hands before glancing over at him. "How do you know?"

Your father sat on the main sofa, picking up one of the files you brought for him to review. "I ran into him yesterday. I asked about you, and he mentioned you didn't pass along my greeting." He looked at you with a knowing smile.

You rolled your eyes lightly, pushing the file toward him, trying to keep your expression neutral. "And what else did he say?"

Your father raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your sudden curiosity. "Why? Did something happen between you two?"

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, but you quickly masked it, waving your hand dismissively. "No, I was just worried he might’ve said something bad. You know me—I’m not exactly known for being polite."

Your father chuckled, seemingly buying your excuse. "True. You’ve always been a bit like a debt collector in business—firm and straightforward. But it works for you. That said, Wonwoo did mention he’d like to see you again."

You nodded slowly, muttering under your breath, "I bet."

"What was that?" your father asked, but you waved it off, diverting the conversation back to the files. You weren’t going to entertain this topic any further, not now.

Later that day, as you continued working, your phone buzzed with a message from Mingyu.

Mingyu: Wonwoo asked for your personal contact. What did I miss?

You stared at the message for a moment, shaking your head in disbelief. The last thing you wanted was to discuss Wonwoo, especially after everything that had happened the night before.

Still, you went about your day as if nothing had changed. You ignored your father’s comments, brushed off Mingyu’s text, and mentally dodged every thought of Jeon Wonwoo. But then, as you drove home, your mother called. Of course, the conversation somehow found its way back to him. Jeon Wonwoo—this man you’d only met at Mingyu’s birthday, yet who seemed to be lingering in everyone’s thoughts.

You sighed as you politely listened to your mother, her voice bubbling with excitement as if Wonwoo were the best thing that had ever happened. Little did she know you had spent the night with him, and now you were trying to figure out what it all meant.

The next morning, you arrived at your office, only to be greeted by an overwhelming sight—buckets of flowers surrounding your desk. You stood there, arms crossed, brows furrowed. The overwhelming scent filled the room, making the normally neat and orderly space feel chaotic.

"Someone’s been sending these non-stop since early this morning," your assistant said, standing beside you. "I don’t think they’ll stop unless you tell them to."

You picked up one of the cards attached to a bouquet, reading the note: I don’t appreciate the way we parted. Let���s meet again and clear up any misunderstandings.

Your eyes narrowed, already knowing who the sender was. You walked briskly to your computer and began typing an email to the flower sender—Jeon Wonwoo himself. You kept the tone professional, telling him to stop flooding your office with flowers and that, perhaps, you could meet again to "clear things up."

You hit send, sitting back in your chair with a sigh. Part of you wondered if you’d regret agreeing to meet him again, but another part—the curious part—was already anticipating it.

*

Wonwoo waited in the hotel room, his thoughts racing as he paced around. The same room. The same place where everything had begun on Mingyu's birthday night, when you had opened up to him—at least he thought you had. But the next morning, you were gone, leaving behind only a note and a sting to his pride.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He didn't recognize himself lately. Since meeting you, he'd felt... off. Needy, even. He wasn’t used to this. He wasn’t used to wanting someone so much that it clouded his mind.

He remembered the note you left: It was nice. You’re experienced in this area. Along with it, you’d left some cash, as if he were some service you had paid for. That stung his ego more than he cared to admit. He should’ve been furious, but instead, all he could think about was craving you again—your skin against his, your presence.

The sound of the door opening snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned, watching as you casually entered the room. You kicked off your heels without care, tossed your expensive bag onto the couch, and sat down across from him with an air of confidence that was unmistakable.

"You’re late. Thirty minutes," Wonwoo said, his eyes following your every move.

You didn’t even bother with pleasantries. Instead, you massaged your leg, looking at him with a tired yet unfazed expression. "As if you had anything better to do after this," you replied, hitting on the fact that he had canceled all his plans for the evening the moment he received your email this morning.

He didn’t deny it. He had dropped everything, cleared his schedule, just to see you. Maybe to talk, maybe more. He wasn’t hoping for anything to happen tonight, but if it did... well, he wouldn't be complaining.

"So," you said, leaning back into the couch, confidence radiating from you. "What exactly do you want to clear up between us?"

Wonwoo mirrored your posture, uncrossing his legs as he leaned forward. "I don't appreciate you framing me as some playboy," he said, his voice calm but firm. He wasn’t used to being talked about like that, especially not by someone who clearly affected him more than he’d like to admit.

You raised an eyebrow, unbothered by his accusation. "You’re not?" you asked, your tone teasing, as if daring him to deny it.

"I’m a very noble person," he replied, almost defensively. "I don’t mess around with lots of women, if that’s what you were implying."

You chuckled, the sound light and dismissive. "And that bothers you?"

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, it silenced Wonwoo. Did it bother him? It shouldn’t. But coming from you, it did. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because, deep down, he didn’t want you to see him that way.

"It shouldn’t," he admitted after a beat, his gaze locking onto yours. "But with you, it does."

Your expression softened, just for a second, before you smirked. "Interesting." You leaned forward slightly, meeting his gaze head-on. "So, what are you going to do about it, Mr. Jeon?"

Wonwoo felt his pulse quicken, but he kept his composure. He didn’t know how this conversation would end, but he knew one thing: you had him wrapped around your finger, and you probably knew it too.

Wonwoo didn’t respond right away. It did bother him, more than it should. And he wasn’t sure why. Normally, he wouldn’t care what someone thought of him—especially not someone who seemed so determined to keep their distance. But with you, it was different. He didn’t like the way you saw him, the way you assumed he was just another rich man playing games.

But it wasn’t just that. You challenged him in a way that no one else had. You made him feel things he wasn’t used to feeling, and as much as he hated it, he couldn’t ignore it.

Wonwoo leaned forward, his gaze intense as he closed the distance between you. "I think you like pretending you’re the one in control," he said, his voice low and suggestive. "But I don’t think you mind letting me show you otherwise."

He watched you closely, waiting for a reaction. There was a flicker of something in your eyes—curiosity, maybe even desire—but you masked it quickly, crossing your legs slowly, as if to test his patience.

"Bold assumption, Mr. Jeon," you said, your tone light but your eyes never leaving his. "But I don’t hand over control easily."

Wonwoo’s lips curved into a smile, dark and full of intent. "Who said anything about easy?" He let his hand drift to your knee, his touch deliberate and slow, testing the waters. "I’m just suggesting we explore this... dynamic a little further. See where it takes us."

He moved closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as his breath brushed your ear. "Unless, of course, you’re afraid you might like what you find."

The tension between you thickened, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Wonwoo could feel his pulse quicken, the anticipation coiling inside him like a spring ready to snap. You were playing it cool, but he could tell you were thinking it over. There was something between you that neither of you could deny.

Finally, you leaned back into the couch, crossing your arms with that same infuriating confidence. "You seem so sure of yourself," you mused, your voice teasing. "But I don’t think you know what you’re getting into."

Wonwoo let out a soft chuckle, his hand sliding a little higher up your thigh, the touch now more intimate, more daring. "Then show me," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

The tension between you was electric now, the pull irresistible. He had no intention of walking away from this without exploring whatever it was that had ignited between you since that first night.

And from the way your gaze darkened as you leaned in slightly, he knew you felt the same.

*

Wonwoo’s arms tightened gently around your waist, his breath warm against the back of your neck as he whispered, "Stay..." You hesitated for a moment, your mind already on the exit, but the pull of his touch made you pause. There was something about his embrace that felt too inviting, too comfortable to resist.

The familiar warmth of his body pressed against yours, and without thinking, you leaned back into him. His fingers traced lazy circles on your skin, a slow and deliberate motion that sent a subtle shiver down your spine. You weren’t sure what it was that kept bringing you back here—to this very same room, to him—but the connection between the two of you was undeniable. It was never about love, but the chemistry was hard to ignore.

As his lips brushed your shoulder, you could feel the tension in the air, an unspoken invitation in the way his hand lingered on your waist. "I like this," he murmured, his voice low and intimate, as if sharing a secret meant only for the two of you.

As you lay there, the memories of Seungcheol creeped back into your thoughts, despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. Your relationship with him had been all-consuming, something that once filled every corner of your heart and mind. It was hard to think about him without remembering how much he had demanded of you—emotionally, mentally, and even physically.

With Seungcheol, things had started out like a whirlwind. He was intense, driven, and passionate, and for a while, you were swept up in it. You thought that kind of intensity meant love, that his need for you, his constant presence, was a sign of something real and lasting. But slowly, the weight of it all became too much to bear. His passion turned into control, his love into expectations you couldn’t meet, and his presence became suffocating.

There were good times too, of course—moments where he made you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered to him. But those moments were always fleeting, overshadowed by his demands. He wanted more than you could give, and in the end, you had nothing left to offer him.

The break-up had been brutal. Seungcheol didn’t understand why you were pulling away, and you couldn’t find the words to explain how drained you felt. He had taken so much from you, and by the time you walked away, you weren’t sure if you even knew how to love anymore.

Now, with Wonwoo, he didn’t demand anything from you. He didn’t ask for your heart, your promises, or your future. There was no pressure to be more than you were capable of being. It was a relief, but at the same time, it left you feeling hollow in a way you hadn’t expected.

You glanced over at Wonwoo as he lay beside you, his breathing slow and steady. He was so different from Seungcheol—calm, relaxed, and never overbearing. Yet, there was something about the way you kept coming back to him, something that felt just a little too easy, as though you were using him to fill a space that Seungcheol had left behind.

Maybe you were both just trying to avoid the emptiness, finding comfort in each other because it was simple. But deep down, you wondered if you were really healing or just hiding from the scars Seungcheol had left on you. The thought lingered as you closed your eyes, choosing once again to stay in the moment, avoiding the pain that lay beneath the surface.

"Are you leaving already?" Wonwoo’s voice interrupted your thoughts, his hand resting gently on your arm.

You looked over at him, meeting his eyes. There was a question there, but it wasn’t the kind that demanded an answer. He understood that whatever you had together wasn’t complicated.

You shook your head slightly. "No, I’ll stay a bit longer."

*

You met Seungcheol again for the first time in five years. He now owned his own advertising label, just like the dream he'd talked about so many years ago. Today, he had come to your father’s company, probably without expecting that he'd be working with you. After all, Seungcheol had never fully believed in your competence back then, so he certainly wouldn’t have expected to see you sitting across from him as one of the company’s directors.

You steeled yourself with every ounce of professionalism you could muster, trying to suppress the erratic pulse that betrayed how unsettled you truly were. During the meeting, when your eyes met briefly across the table, memories flooded back. You were reminded of why you loved him so deeply when you were together. He was charismatic, driven, and had a presence that was still undeniably captivating.

But the love that once shone in his eyes was gone. He had moved on, you'd heard. And it was best for him—best for both of you, perhaps. You forced yourself to focus, nodding to your secretary, silently willing the meeting to end as quickly as possible.

The moment it was over, you gathered your things and hurried out of the meeting room, heading toward your office. Your footsteps quickened with each step, eager to put distance between you and the past. But just as you turned the corner, a familiar hand reached out and caught your arm. It was Seungcheol.

"Hi... How are you? I didn’t expect to see you here," he said, his voice softer than you remembered.

You bit your lip, fighting to keep your composure. "Great..." you replied, pulling your arm away from his gentle grip, the contact sending a wave of emotions you'd tried to bury long ago.

Seungcheol seemed to realize what he'd done and quickly took a step back, giving you space. "I’m sorry," he said, his expression unreadable. "You must be busy. It was... nice to see you again, Y/n."

His words were polite, but there was a weight to them, a shared history that couldn’t be erased. You nodded, offering a brief smile before turning away, your heart racing from the brief encounter. The man who had once held all your love was now just another face from your past—a past that felt closer than it should.

*

Once the climax hit both you and Wonwoo, you collapsed onto his chest, gasping for air as your body trembled above him. His hands remained firmly on your hips, steadying you while the waves of pleasure slowly subsided. For a moment, neither of you moved, the intensity of the moment still lingering in the air. Wonwoo’s chest rose and fell beneath you as he caught his breath, his fingers gently tracing patterns along your skin.

"It was the best yet," he finally murmured, a small smirk tugging at his lips, his voice low and satisfied. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your cheek as you lay against him, both of you basking in the aftermath of your shared experience.

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his words and the undeniable chemistry that always seemed to pull you back to him.

"You should ride me more next time," Wonwoo jested with a playful smirk, but his breath hitched slightly as you pulled away from him, the lingering sensation still sparking through him. He watched as you climbed out of bed without a word, fetching the bathrobe and slipping it over your bare skin.

As you walked to the couch and sat down, your eyes seemed distant, wandering as if lost in thought. There was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. Wonwoo propped himself up on his elbows, watching you intently. This wasn’t like you—the usual confident, carefree attitude that had defined your time together seemed to falter for the first time.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, a hint of curiosity mixed with concern in his tone. He couldn’t help but notice the shift, the way you suddenly seemed disconnected. It was the first time he'd seen you like this—guarded, almost as if you were somewhere else entirely.

Wonwoo stood up, slipping into his pants before making his way toward you. He sat beside you, gently cupping your cheeks as his thumb brushed against your skin. He could sense something was weighing on you, something that perhaps had fueled the raw emotion in the way you'd been with him earlier.

"You look so beautiful like this," he whispered, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips. His eyes searched yours after the kiss, waiting for you to speak, to tell him what was really going on.

After a pause, you finally mumbled, "I realize... I'm changing so much." Your voice was soft, almost unsure.

Wonwoo didn’t say anything, letting the silence stretch as he waited for you to continue. He knew there was more you needed to say.

"I'm so different from who I used to be," you confessed, your words almost a whisper. "I used to be so... pure. So used to being taken care of. I was needy, clingy. I didn’t understand things. And now... I don't like how I’ve become, like I’ve had to figure everything out on my own."

Wonwoo let out a sigh, his eyes never leaving yours. "Is it about us? Is that what's bothering you?"

You hesitated before answering, "One of them."

His grip on your face softened, his touch reassuring as he waited for you to unravel more of what was inside you. The rawness in your voice, the vulnerability, was something new between the two of you, and he wanted to understand.

"I've never done this with anyone..." you confessed quietly, your eyes dropping for a moment. "It’s amazing to be with you, Wonwoo. But I feel so hollow afterward. I feel... really bad. That’s why I always leave."

Wonwoo took your hand gently, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. "Because you don’t want to show me this side of you?" he asked softly, his voice calm but full of understanding. You took a deep breath, nodding in response.

"Are you going to let me go, Wonwoo? Like everyone else?" you asked, your voice filled with uncertainty.

Wonwoo shook his head firmly, his gaze steady on yours. "I’m not going anywhere, even if you ask me to. I’m stubborn like that, Y/n."

Relief washed over you as you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "Thanks," you whispered, feeling a weight lift off your chest.

Wonwoo tossed his keys onto the counter, his thoughts still swirling. He leaned against the kitchen island, trying to shake the feeling that had settled in his chest since you’d opened up to him. The more he thought about it, the more it nagged at him.

He had always been good at keeping things casual, knowing the boundaries of a no-strings relationship. But something about the way you looked at him tonight—the way you confessed how hollow you felt—stirred something deeper inside him. He didn't like seeing you in pain. He didn't like that you were dealing with it alone.

But what could he do? He wasn’t supposed to care this much. You two were just... enjoying each other, right? No commitments, no expectations.

Yet, for the first time, he felt something beyond that, a pull he hadn’t anticipated. He wanted to be more than just your distraction, more than just someone to pass the time with. But at the same time, he knew crossing that line could complicate everything.

“Damn it,” Wonwoo muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t deny the truth anymore: he wanted to be there for you, to be the person you leaned on. But would you let him? And more importantly, was he even ready to be that person?

Just as his mind raced, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. His mother's name flashed across the screen, and he answered on the second ring, grateful for the distraction.

Their conversation flowed easily, as it always did, catching up on life, work, and updates on the family. But when she shifted to more personal matters, his stomach tightened.

"Every mother wants their daughter to meet you, Wonwoo. I had no idea my son was that popular." Her voice was filled with pride and a hint of amusement.

Wonwoo chuckled, deflecting with a light jest. “You raised an amazing man, mother.”

Her laugh came through the phone, warm and familiar. “Maybe it's time you meet one of them. A dinner wouldn’t hurt, would it?”

He paused, the suggestion hanging in the air. It was simple enough, really—meet someone new, go through the motions. And yet, it felt like a heavier decision than it should have been.

Maybe she was right. Maybe meeting someone else, taking a step back from you, would give him the clarity he needed. Maybe that was what he should do—slowly distance himself from this complicated entanglement.

But as he sat there, phone still pressed to his ear, something inside him hesitated.

*

Your presence was impossible for Wonwoo to ignore. You sat just a few tables away, speaking comfortably with a man whose face he vaguely recognized but couldn’t place. In front of him sat Sung Yubin, a girl his mother had been eager for him to meet.

“Is the food to your liking?” Yubin asked, her voice cutting through his thoughts. Wonwoo quickly shifted his gaze from your table back to her, realizing only then that he had stopped chewing his steak, distracted by your presence.

“It’s great. Please, help yourself,” he responded politely, though his attention wandered back to you again. He tensed when he caught you looking back at him, though you quickly resumed your conversation with the man sitting across from you.

“I’m glad we could have dinner,” Yubin continued, unaware of his distraction. “The school lunch today was weird, so I ended up skipping it.” She was a senior nursing student, and while her conversation topics should have interested him, Wonwoo found himself nodding absently to her remarks. She wasn’t exactly his type—always rolling her eyes at the waitstaff and focusing more on trivial complaints.

After the meal, Wonwoo excused himself, claiming he had another engagement when Yubin hinted at wanting him to drive her home. Though a flicker of disappointment crossed her face, she seemed satisfied when he hailed a cab for her. As she left, Wonwoo felt a wave of relief wash over him.

Then, just as he was about to leave, he spotted you stepping out of the restaurant with the man from earlier. A third person, a woman, approached, and after a brief handshake, the man walked away with her, leaving you standing alone.

A small smile tugged at Wonwoo’s lips as your eyes met his again.

“I thought you were on a date,” Wonwoo teased, stepping closer to you.

“Because yours was?” you shot back with a smirk, fully aware that you were right.

He chuckled, “Wanna grab a beer?”

You hesitated only for a second before nodding, a quiet acknowledgment that whatever was between you two wasn’t over just yet.

“Who was that girl?” you asked as soon as you were seated at the bar, curiosity lacing your voice.

“Someone my mother wanted me to meet,” Wonwoo replied casually, his eyes scanning the menu. He raised his hand to order an expensive bottle of liquor for the both of you.

“I thought we were just going to grab a beer?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at his choice.

Wonwoo shook his head with a small grin. “Gotta treat you to something good.”

“Oh, trying to show off that you’re rich?” you joked, and he nodded proudly.

“That’s my favorite thing to do around you,” he bantered back, making you chuckle.

When the drinks arrived, you both clinked glasses in an unspoken toast. Wonwoo took a sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on your reaction. He watched as you took a sip, your face lighting up with satisfaction, and a sense of relief washed over him. He’d made the right choice.

“So, that guy you were with earlier... do I know him?” Wonwoo asked, steering the conversation back.

“He’s Choi Seungcheol,” you said, a name that clicked in Wonwoo’s mind.

“From Ads Coups, right?” Wonwoo asked, recalling the name from some big industry moves. You nodded.

“Business dinner? Or a friend?” he pressed further.

You hesitated, and for a moment, it seemed like you were debating whether to tell him the truth. But then you took a breath and said it.

“Both.”

Wonwoo’s expression didn’t change. He sat quietly for a moment, absorbing what you said, before you finally added the last piece.

“An ex.”

“I see…” Wonwoo nodded, acknowledging your words with a calmness that surprised even him. He didn’t press further, but the air between you suddenly felt a little heavier, a little more complicated than it had just moments before.

“Almost married him,” you confessed, a hint of irony in your voice. “But here I am… still being pampered by my mom to find someone.”

Wonwoo chuckled softly, leaning back in his seat. “Don’t worry, you’re not alone in that.”

“At least you’re a good son,” you pointed out. “You actually meet the people your mom suggests. Meanwhile, I reject every single offer mine throws at me.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Tell me one name. Just one, that your mom wanted you to meet.”

Without missing a beat, you looked at him and said, “You.”

Wonwoo blinked, caught off guard. “Me?” he asked, incredulous.

You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips. “My mom, my dad. They’re big fans of yours.”

He grinned, clearly amused. “Well, I feel honored,” he said with mock pride.

“So, why’d you reject me?” he teased, leaning in slightly. “I mean, why reject the offer?”

You shrugged casually. “Same reason I reject all of them. I don’t see the point in meeting people just because my mom wants me to. Even if they’re rich. I’m rich too.”

Wonwoo smiled and raised his glass toward you. “Here’s to rich men,” he said, with a playful glint in his eyes, including both of you in the toast.

You laughed, clinking your glass against his. “To rich men,” you echoed with a grin, the shared joke lightening the mood as you both enjoyed the comfortable banter.

*

Wonwoo looked at you in surprise. You want him to stay?

Just like the other day, the two of you had returned to the same hotel room, indulging in each other’s company. Wonwoo was about to fetch his pants, thinking you’d want to leave as usual. But this time, you surprised him.

“Hm... stay,” you mumbled, eyes closed. Wonwoo didn’t hesitate; he slipped back into bed, pulling your bare body close to him.

As you relaxed into his warmth, you murmured, “Wanna go on a trip with me?”

Wonwoo glanced down at you, curious. “When?”

“Earliest flight today. I want to go to Tokyo.” Your voice was soft, almost sleepy, but the spontaneity in your words caught him off guard. You sounded ridiculous, but he couldn’t help but smile. Without a second thought, he grabbed his phone and texted his secretary to book the earliest flight to Tokyo for two.

“Let’s sleep. We still have a few hours,” he whispered, gently lulling you into rest.

The next morning, after landing in Tokyo, Wonwoo asked as you both walked out of the airport, “You’re okay with taking a sudden day off like this?”

“Using my my-dad-owns-the-company card for the first time won’t hurt anybody,” you replied with a casual shrug.

Wonwoo chuckled, amused by your carefree attitude. “So, where do you want to go after this?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you leaned into his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist as the cab drove you to the hotel.

“Let’s see,” you finally murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo smiled to himself, feeling your comfortable presence against him. He liked this—being with you like this, without overthinking or complicating things. Just living in the moment.

"Yeah," he thought to himself, "I really like this."

*

Wonwoo watched you, eyebrows furrowed, as you spoke to your mother on the phone. He found the interaction between the two of you amusing, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

"At my office?" you said, trying to keep your tone calm as your mother inquired about your whereabouts.

"Don't lie to me. I'm at your office," your mother shot back, and Wonwoo stifled a laugh as you closed your eyes in frustration.

"I'm in Tokyo for business," you finally admitted with a sigh.

"And you didn’t bring Chan with you?" your mother asked, referring to your secretary still at the office.

"I like being by myself," you replied, your tone measured. "Besides, Chan has things to handle for me back home."

"That’s why you need to start meeting men. How about Jeon Wonwoo? I mentioned him before," your mother insisted.

Wonwoo’s ears perked up at the sound of his name, and he raised an eyebrow, curious.

"I’ll think about it," you said, trying to end the conversation without drawing it out.

As soon as you hung up, Wonwoo, still intrigued, asked, "What was that all about?"

You casually took a sip of your coffee. "Just my mom trying to set me up with you."

A smirk spread across Wonwoo’s face. "I wish she knew what we’ve already done in bed—"

"Shut up!" You quickly covered his mouth before he could finish, your eyes wide with embarrassment.

Wonwoo leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Why? Embarrassed to let anyone know how wild you were in the bedroom?"

Without missing a beat, you grabbed a spoonful of cheesecake and shoved it into his mouth to silence him, and he chuckled as he chewed, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You had spent the entire day together, enjoying the sights and sounds of Tokyo before deciding to fly back to Seoul the next morning. Wonwoo had taken you to all the places you’d been wanting to visit—arcades, restaurants, cafes, and even a clothing shop you had your eye on. By the time you both returned to the hotel, you collapsed on the bed, exhausted but satisfied.

When Wonwoo stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his neck, he chuckled at the sight of you still sprawled out in the same position he left you.

"Go take a shower, you stink," he teased, playfully slapping your leg, making you groan as you slowly got up.

"I'm so happy but so tired. Tired but happy," you said, smiling through the exhaustion as you made your way into the bathroom.

After you’d showered and freshened up, you stepped out to find Wonwoo waiting for you at the table, a spread of food laid out.

"I ordered something," he said, motioning toward the dishes with a proud smile. "Figured you’d need some fuel after today."

Your stomach growled in response, and you sat down with a grateful sigh. "You always know exactly what I need."

Wonwoo chuckled, "Of course. Gotta keep you happy, even when you're tired."

You shared a quiet meal together, the comfortable silence between you speaking volumes as you savored both the food and the company.

"Jeon Wonwoo," you called his name softly, pulling his attention away from his phone.

He shifted his gaze to you, curious. "What’s on your mind?"

"Don’t you feel like I’m using you?" you asked, your tone surprisingly serious.

Wonwoo furrowed his brows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

You shrugged, trying to downplay the growing unease in your chest. "Because I only call you when I need you."

Wonwoo's expression softened, and he shook his head. "No, you're not using me. We’re both busy, me with my work, you with yours. That’s just how life is."

You looked down at your plate, not entirely convinced. "But don’t you feel like... like I'm taking advantage of you? Your ego—doesn’t it bother you?"

He paused, setting his utensil down carefully as he studied you. "Where's this coming from?" he asked gently.

You sighed. "I’ve just been thinking. Men are always talking about pride and ego. Doesn't it hurt yours?"

Wonwoo leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he considered your words. "Is that why you've built up your own walls? To feel equal to men?" he asked thoughtfully.

"In business? Absolutely," you admitted. "It’s a constant power struggle, and I have to keep up."

He nodded, understanding. Then he smiled softly. "You know, my ego did take a hit when you left me cash that day. But today? Nah, I don’t feel anything but happy being with you. I’m not keeping score, Y/N."

You looked up at him, surprised. "Happy?"

"Yeah," he continued, leaning forward a little. "Being with you—it doesn’t feel like a game of who has more power. I’m just enjoying your company. So, no, I don’t feel used."

You smiled, finally letting yourself relax. "Thanks, Wonwoo."

He chuckled and raised his glass. "You overthink too much, you know that?"

As you clinked glasses with him, a thought crossed your mind. "What if... I told you I wasn’t looking for anything serious right now?"

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow but remained calm. "I’d say that’s fine. We don’t have to define anything right now. We can just be, you know?"

You nodded, comforted by his nonchalance. "That sounds... nice."

After a brief silence, Wonwoo leaned in again with a playful smirk. "But if you ever decide to make it serious, just know—I’ll still beat you in Mario Kart."

You laughed, the heaviness of the conversation finally lifting. "You wish."

For the rest of the night, the conversation stayed light, the tension between you fading away as easily as it had come.

*

Seungcheol had been everything to you when you first started. As an intern, you admired his dedication, his leadership, and the way he always seemed to know exactly what to do. He wasn’t just your manager; he became your mentor, teaching you the ropes in a way no one else had. You were eager to learn, even though you weren’t perfect—stumbling over presentations, sometimes missing the mark—but Seungcheol never made you feel small. Not at first.

He didn’t know who you really were. To him, you were just another intern, eager to climb the corporate ladder. It felt refreshing, in a way, to be seen for your efforts and not your last name. You soaked up everything he taught you, from strategic planning to how to carry yourself in high-stakes meetings. You admired him not just for his professional skills, but for the way he treated you—gently, yet firm when it came to work.

When he asked you out, it felt like everything was falling into place. You were growing in your career, and you had someone who believed in you by your side. Seungcheol was passionate about his own dreams too, talking endlessly about wanting to start his own advertisement company one day. You supported him, proud to see the ambition that had first drawn you to him. But then, things shifted.

After he resigned to pursue his dreams, something changed. He wanted you to leave the company and join him, to take a risk and build something together. But your responsibilities weighed on you, the expectations from your family were unavoidable. When you declined, Seungcheol didn’t take it well. He started subtly belittling your choice, acting as though staying in the company made you less bold, less ambitious.

The truth about your identity eventually came out, and that’s when the real cracks appeared. When Seungcheol found out you were the company heir, his pride took a hit. Your paychecks started outpacing his, your name held weight he could never match, and that, more than anything, stung him. He stopped seeing you as his equal, and instead, he saw you as a threat. He began making snide comments about your success, about how it wasn’t "earned" the way his was, how you had everything handed to you.

Your relationship with Seungcheol had changed you in ways you didn’t fully understand until much later. As the dynamic shifted, as his resentment grew, it left scars that ran deeper than you’d realized. You had loved him, truly, and for a while, you believed he loved you too. But the more success you found, the more he became a different person, someone who couldn't bear to see you surpass him.

It was like watching a man fall apart, piece by piece, under the weight of his own pride. He’d lash out, not always with words, but with the smallest gestures—a disapproving look, a dismissive comment. He stopped celebrating your wins, and instead, they seemed to remind him of his own perceived failures. The man you admired for his passion became someone who resented you for the very things that once made him proud. He had wanted you to be successful, but only as long as it didn’t eclipse him.

And you learned a painful truth from that relationship: that love, or at least the kind you’d experienced, was fragile. Men, as strong as they appeared when they were on top, could crumble when they felt they were losing control. It wasn’t just Seungcheol—it was the way he embodied this belief that men were only themselves when they were successful. When they stumbled, when they struggled, their pride and ego became brittle, breaking at the slightest challenge.

That relationship didn’t just end—it left you with a sense of distrust, of wariness. You’d given your heart to someone who couldn’t handle it when you started to grow beyond the version of yourself he was comfortable with. And that made you build walls, whether you intended to or not. You found yourself questioning every man’s intentions, wondering if they would also resent you when things didn’t go their way.

Seungcheol had stolen your capability to love freely. He’d left you with the belief that love was conditional, that it came with terms and conditions tied to power and success. Men, in your experience, wanted to be the center, to be the ones in control. And when they weren’t, they withered. They became smaller versions of themselves, unable to accept that you could be strong, capable, and successful without it taking anything away from them.

You stopped letting people in the way you once had. Sure, you dated, but it was different. Detached. You kept your guard up, unwilling to allow anyone the power to diminish you again. Every time you met someone, there was that lingering thought—what happens when they see the full extent of who I am? Will they shrink? Will they pull away like Seungcheol did?

Seungcheol hadn’t just hurt you—he’d left you with an image of men that was hard to shake. The ones who thrived when things were easy, but couldn’t handle the weight of your success. Men who were all pride and ego, fragile when the world stopped revolving around them. You didn’t want to think like that, but it was all you knew now.

*

"Your meeting with Jeon Wonwoo will be on Saturday. Make sure you actually come. And also, get dressed properly this time!" Your mother’s voice rang out as she adjusted her pearl necklace, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You stared at her, incredulous. "I haven't even said yes yet," you shot back, folding your arms defensively.

But your mother merely smiled, clearly pleased with herself. "I met his mother at a gathering yesterday. We talked for quite a while, and she mentioned the last girl he met wasn't his type. I showed her your picture, and she said you might be exactly what he’s looking for."

"But Wonwoo and Y/n are friends," your father interjected, his voice calm but firm from the other end of the dining room.

"I know," your mother replied smoothly, waving her hand as if the detail was inconsequential. "But that doesn’t matter. The impression we make on his mother is what's important."

Your brow furrowed, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. "What’s wrong with me exactly? I’m fine. I’m a great woman," you retorted, trying to keep your cool.

Your mother sighed dramatically, setting down her tea cup with a delicate clink. "I just wish I had raised you to be a more polite and less...brash woman." She shrugged, as though the issue was that simple.

"Polite?" You raised an eyebrow, sarcasm creeping into your voice. "I say please and thank you. What more do you want?"

Your father chuckled softly from behind his newspaper, causing your mother to give him a quick, disapproving glance. He always found humor in your back-and-forths.

Your mother’s words hung in the air, sharp yet laced with a familiar disappointment. You could sense her frustration, but it only made you roll your eyes in response.

“Y/N, dear, you are a great woman. But sometimes I wonder if you care about your future at all.” She sighed again, leaning back in her chair. “I’m not asking for much—just meet him. Wonwoo’s a good man, and you two already know each other. It wouldn’t hurt to see if there’s something more there.”

You crossed your arms, still feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down on you. “Wonwoo and I are friends. I don’t need you playing matchmaker with someone I already know.”

Your mother gave you a pointed look, as if she had already rehearsed her response to every argument you could throw her way. “Wonwoo’s mother agrees that it’s worth a shot. Besides, friendships can turn into something more. You’ll never know unless you try.”

Your father cleared his throat. “Maybe we should let Y/N make her own decisions about this. She’s capable of knowing what’s best for her.”

Your mother didn’t relent. “I just want the best for you. Wonwoo is successful, respectful, and comes from a good family. That’s a strong foundation, isn’t it?”

“Fine, I’ll go,” you finally said, more out of a desire to end the conversation than genuine interest. “But I’m not promising anything.”

Your mother beamed, already envisioning some grand future for you and Wonwoo. “That’s all I ask.”

As you excused yourself from the table, you couldn’t help but think about Wonwoo and how bizarre it would be to approach him under these new terms. Would he know about the setup? Or would this just be another awkward encounter orchestrated by your families? Either way, it was bound to be interesting.

*

Your walls clenched tightly around Wonwoo as he thrust into you with raw passion, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. Your nails dug into his back, leaving streaks of red as he found just the right spot over and over again. Moans spilled from your lips, growing louder with each movement as his pace quickened.

"What do you think our moms would say if they knew what we're doing right now instead of having that proper dinner?" Wonwoo's voice was a breathless whisper against your ear, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as his rhythm deepened.

You could hardly think, let alone speak, but somehow you managed to find the breath to reply, "They'd be thrilled... their kids are trying to give them grandkids." You shot back, your voice hitching with every thrust.

Your words clearly hit him harder than you anticipated. Wonwoo's cock twitched inside you, the mere thought of you carrying his child driving him wild in ways he hadn’t expected. His eyes darkened with lust, and his pace became even more relentless, the idea of you pregnant with his baby stirring something primal within him.

"Do you want that?" Wonwoo growled, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his hips snapped against yours, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. "Tell me. Do you want it?"

The feeling of his cock hitting that sweet spot over and over again had your mind spinning, your body trembling as the orgasm started to build in your core. You could barely hold yourself together, your breath coming in shallow gasps. "Fuck, Wonwoo... Don’t you dare... I'm so close... I'm cumming!" you managed to cry out, your body tightening around him.

Wonwoo’s grip on your hips tightened as he groaned against your neck. "I got you, baby," he whispered, and with a few more deep, powerful thrusts, you both tumbled over the edge together, the pleasure washing over you in waves that left you breathless and shaking.

He stayed inside you for a moment longer, riding out the high, his forehead pressed against yours as you both panted heavily. The air between you was thick with the afterglow, the heat of your bodies mingling together in the quiet aftermath.

"My mother said she wants to see me with a woman like you," Wonwoo said softly during aftercare, his gentle hands carefully wiping your body clean with a warm towel.

You leaned against his shoulder, too tired to sit up straight, and replied, "Everyone wants their son to be with a woman like me." Your voice was teasing, lightening the mood in the quiet aftermath.

Wonwoo chuckled, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Sure, you're an amazing woman—with amazing tits," he added with a playful grin.

You laughed at his words, playfully slapping his arm in mock indignation. He scooped you up effortlessly and carried you from the bathroom to the bed, tucking you under the soft duvet with a tender smile. After quickly cleaning himself, he joined you, sinking into the warmth beside you.

"Have you ever imagined the two of us together? Like officially together?" You asked, your eyes fluttering open to meet his, curiosity shining in your gaze. Your hand instinctively found its way to his arm, linking with him as if seeking reassurance.

"Every time happiness comes to me while I'm with you," Wonwoo replied, his voice low and sincere, "I always think about how wonderful it would be to share that happiness with you forever."

You turned to face him, your surprise evident in your wide eyes. "Okay, that was deeper than I expected."

He pulled you closer, his lips brushing softly against your forehead in a sweet gesture. "I told you I'm a romantic man."

"You are," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as warmth blossomed in your chest.

As you nestled against him, a thought crossed your mind, and you mumbled, “What if we made this official? You know, like really official?”

Wonwoo’s eyes widened in surprise, and a grin broke across his face, lighting up his features. “Are you serious?” he asked, his excitement palpable. “You’re not just saying that?”

You felt a rush of warmth at his reaction and nodded, your heart racing. “Yeah, I mean… why not? We get along so well, and I like being with you. I think we could make a real go of it.”

His smile grew even wider, and he pulled you closer, almost lifting you off the bed with enthusiasm. “This is amazing! I’ve been hoping you’d say something like that. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

You chuckled softly, caught up in his excitement. “Really? I thought you had a whole parade of girls wanting to date you.”

“Maybe, but none of them are you,” he said, his voice serious now, making your heart flutter. “You’re special, Y/N. You make me happier than I ever expected.”

You smiled, feeling a mix of shyness and elation. “So, are we officially together then?”

“Absolutely!” Wonwoo exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with joy. “I can’t believe this is happening. You have no idea how happy this makes me.” He leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, tender kiss, sealing the promise of your new relationship.

As he pulled back, he looked deep into your eyes. “I’m going to make you so happy, I swear. No more casual—it’s all in from here on out.” His excitement was contagious, and you felt a thrill of anticipation for what the future might hold for the two of you.

*

You walked with confidence in a beautiful dress that hugged your figure perfectly. Wonwoo’s hand rested comfortably around your waist as he strolled beside you, flashing charming smiles to everyone you both passed. You couldn’t help but feel proud of each other, relishing the chance to show off your blossoming relationship.

“Look at this power couple!” your mother exclaimed, her voice brimming with delight. You rolled your eyes playfully at her statement, knowing how thrilled she was about your relationship with Wonwoo after the so-called first meeting she had arranged a year ago. Now, you were here with him as his girlfriend at the company’s anniversary party.

“Good evening, Mrs. Ji. You look beautiful as always,” Wonwoo greeted your mother, bowing politely to both of your parents.

“Wonwoo, how are you? I hope Y/N isn’t being a pain in the ass, is she?” your father asked with a teasing tone, treating him differently now that he was your boyfriend.

“In no way could an amazing woman like me be a pain in the ass,” you mumbled loud enough for them to hear, a smirk on your face. Wonwoo chuckled at the light banter you shared with your parents before excusing himself to meet his friend, Kim Mingyu, who also happened to be your cousin.

“So, how’s the plan for tonight?” Mingyu asked Wonwoo, raising an eyebrow knowingly as he referred to his friend’s intentions to propose.

“I’m so nervous I could die,” Wonwoo confessed, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Mingyu laughed, clearly amused by the new layer of vulnerability that Wonwoo was showing. “Don’t worry, she’ll appreciate everything you do,” he reassured, clapping Wonwoo on the back.

“I hope so,” Wonwoo replied, glancing over at you with a soft smile. The anticipation was palpable, and you could feel the excitement in the air. With each passing moment, you were both drawing closer to an unforgettable evening that could change everything.

[wonustars]

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖶𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖧𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖧𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽

𖥔 pairing: kim mingyu x f.reader 𖥔 wordcount: 19.0k 𖥔 genre: fake marriage au!, fluff, angst, smut (18+ mdni)

𖥔 reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

𖥔 summary: you and mingyu (a former mafia member and also your ex-fiancè's former best friend) are forced into witness protection. All you’ve been told is that you’re meant to act like a happily married couple. Pushed into a cookie cutter house, and a suburban neighbourhood far from the city, where people bring you baked goods on your first day and partake in small talk, it’s all foreign and new. There’s so many things you don’t know about him, but for a man who’s only known violence and all things illegal, he’s somehow the perfect house husband.

𖥔 tags: nonidol!au, ex-mafia!mingyu, househusband!mingyu, afab!reader, catmom!reader, neighbour!verkwan, marshall officer!junhui and jihoon, ex-fiancè! seungcheol, fake marriage, mingyu loves to garden, mingyu has a large dragon tattoo on his back that is barely mentioned, mentions of the show Bluey and the movie Twilight, lots of domesticity and house work talk.

𖥔 note: i got this fic done earlier than expected but i have LOTS of people to thank because they are a huge part of why i was even able to get it done. firstly to my beta-readers, thank you, you were all so helpful and i really wouldn't have it done without you all @gyuswhore , @highvern , and @onlyhuis ♡. thank you to @wooahaeproductions , @hannieween , and june (again) for allowing me to put a cameo of you all in the fic! a big thank you to all the people who sent asks that helped me write some of the scenes in the story. thank you to a lot of the @svthub members who helped sm with this fic, esp @ourdawnishotterthanourday, @bitchlessdino, @seokgyuu, @onlymingyus, and @the-boy-meets-evil !! i couldn't have done it without you all and i'm so grateful ♡. i worked really hard on this fic and i've been talking about it for so long, so thank you to all of you who interacted with my posts and waited so patiently. i appreciate every single one of you and i hope you enjoy this story because i really love it too :). see you soonest - anna ♡.

𖥔 some songs i listened to while writing: lagi - bini, i wish - seventeen, sunny day - beabadoobee, chocolate - seventeen vocal unit. 𖥔 masterlist

-> smut tags/ warnings under the cut (18+ mdni!)

𖥔 smut tags: dom!gyu, sub!reader, unprotected penetrative p in v sex (don't do it!), breeding kink, multiple rounds, multiple positons, creampie, spanking, choking (barely), oral (f.receiving), spitting, pet names (reader: baby, wife) (mingyu: baby). 𖥔 warnings: mentions of weapon and drug trafficking, violence, reader is paranoid and anxious from time to time, a lot of inaccurate talk about legal stuff and witness protection, everything listed is talked about with as very little detail as possible.

The tension in the air is thick, not one word was uttered the whole car ride.

Everything still felt surreal, especially because the person you’re forced to live with for the next year is someone you aren’t particularly fond of. 

When you were told that you’d be put into witness protection due to your ex-fiance’s mafia bust, you didn’t expect that it would be spent with his right-hand man. The same man who you watched execute heinous acts under the volition of your ex. It wasn’t his fault that he had to carry out orders, but witnessing him unleash his wrath onto others was enough for you to steer clear of him. 

You aren’t one to judge, especially because you were to be wed to the mafia boss himself. You knew he was partaking in shady business, but you didn’t know that innocent people’s lives were included in his scheme to make more money. 

“I think we’re here,” Mingyu breaks the silence for the first time since you entered the car. 

Your attention is brought to the large sign that is displayed in front of the gated community. The words “Bridgewater Heights” are plastered to the high cement wall that surrounds the area. A part of you is glad that it at least looks like a secure place to live and bougie too; the gated entrance requiring a passcode with guards sitting at the doors screamed wealth. 

Never in your life did you think you were going to be living in such an expensive-looking place. Even when you were still dating Seungcheol, who had money raining down on him constantly, you never desired this lifestyle. Maybe it was because you never understood the want to live in the suburbs, the city suited you better anyway.

 Those initial thoughts are offset as you stare out the car window. children happily playing in the streets, the sun shining down on them, their laughter seeping through the cracks of the car door as they skip around. Everything here seems so cheerful. you wonder if you could begin to find that type of joy if you stay here long enough too. 

As you approach the house you are forced to stay in, you realize that it looks like every other one in the neighbourhood. Large, modern, and painfully identical to your neighbours. A white picket fence lining the yard, with a front-facing garage that perfectly fits two cars. Large windows and a wrap-around porch tie it all together. You couldn’t help but be amazed at how grand everything looks, the difference is drastic from your cozy apartment back in the city. 

An audible gulp goes down your throat. It didn’t start feeling real till now, especially because you spent the hour-long car ride daydreaming about your old home. Reading a book on the couch while stroking your cat, Norbert’s fur. His purring in the back seat calms you down, but not enough that you can accept your fate of living with Mingyu for the next year. 

Your now “husband” parks in the driveway before popping the trunk open to unload the suitcases that carried half of your life. All your clothes, books, and trinkets are all sized down to sixty kilograms. It upset you to take only your most important things, but if it meant you’d be safe from your ex, you knew you had no choice but to agree. 

As you opened the door to your new home, your heart began to pound in your chest. 

You watched as Mingyu continued to haul everything from the car into the house; his large biceps bulging through his white tee as he carried the box that caged your now whining cat. Norbert’s meowing becomes more agitated with every passing second he spends in his carrier case, the guilty feeling pools in your stomach as his meows turn into cries. You hated keeping him in one place for long, especially for long car rides. 

Norbert has always been an active cat, running around, and exploring your old neighbourhood, and at the end of the day, he always came back. At night you two spent hours cuddling while you read your books; sometimes reading the words aloud as if your cat could understand what you were saying. 

Mingyu finishes up with the last of the boxes, taking a step back to look at the new house in all its glory. His hands on his hips as he sighs, admiring the work that had gone into building the house. You didn’t understand why he found the craftsmanship so interesting, but you decided not to think too hard about it. 

He turns to you with an apprehensive smile, his eyes glinting in the sun, “Home sweet home, I guess.” 

two. 

The first few days at the new house were uneventful and awkward, to say the least. Mingyu spent the majority of his time doing random housework, he thought that if he had to live here for a year, then he should at least try and make it as “homey" as possible. 

Many of the women in the neighbourhood had deemed Mingyu as their new eye candy, even though he wore his pink Shibu inu apron while tending to the garden at the front of the house. They would especially make sure to take multiple laps around the block during their group walks, drooling over his toned muscles as he began to plant an array of flowers on the lawn. 

Mingyu isn’t very observant when it comes to people finding him attractive, believe it or not. He automatically assumes that the wives of Bridgewater just wanted to get to know the new couple that just moved in. 

“What a beautiful garden you have!” one of the wives called out from the sidewalk, her eyes glinting with appeal. 

“Thank you, It’s not done just yet, but I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” Mingyu smiles bashfully. 

“Of course dear. You know if you’re ever free you should come and take a look at my garden,” another lady giggles, her innuendo flying right over Mingyu’s head.

The group of forty-plus-year-old women all giggle like school girls as they watch his face turn red with flattery. Mingyu scratched the back of his head awkwardly as they bid him goodbye, curious as to what the group of women thought was so funny about him taking a look at their gardens. It’s all just a bunch of flowers, isn’t it? 

The sound of your car’s engine brings Mingyu out of his thoughts, his gardening tools forgotten by the piles of dirt. You lug Nortbert’s carrier as you walk into the house, acknowledging his presence with a small nod. His pink aprons raise a few questions in your head, but you decide not to comment on it. 

“Oh hey you’re back, is he ok?” Mingyu asks, motioning to the carrier you hold in your hand. 

Halting your steps, your eyes widen as you realize that he’s talking to you. There wasn’t much conversation between the two of you since you moved in. so you found it a little surprising that he’s asking about Norbert, the cat who tends to show lots of aggression towards him. 

“Morning. He’s ok, I just took him for his check-up at the vet,” you shrug before entering the house. 

You leave the conversation there. There wasn’t much else to say anyway, and you had a lot of work to get to before the end of the day. If Mingyu feels a little bit ignored by your actions, he doesn’t make it noticeable, going back to working on his garden. 

From across the yard, neither you nor Mingyu notices Seungkwan’s looming figure as he and Vernon enjoy the Friday morning sun. He watches the two of you from his porch with a quirked eyebrow. They’re awkward for newlyweds, he thinks to himself. 

“Nonie, don’t you think they’re a little weird?” Seungkwan nudges his boyfriend, who’s mumbling to himself while Vernon reads his book. 

Vernon quirks up, moving his headphones a little to hear what his boyfriend has to say, “Huh? Sorry I was reading, what’d you say?” 

“Nothing, go back to your book love,” Seungkwan mumbles, his eyes still darting back and forth from your descending figure and Mingyu, his suspicions spiking once more. 

three.

“So, how’s the house? Do you guys have everything you need?” Jihoon asks over the phone. 

Being the marshall officer assigned to your case, he would take time out of his hectic workday to check up on you and Mingyu. You still remember the first time he had contacted you, informing you about your ex escaping a planned police raid. The rhythmic beating of your heart stopped the moment those words left Jihoon’s lips, and the fear of Seungcheol showing up at your home unannounced at any moment doubled within a second. 

You didn’t want to leave everything behind, especially because of how hard it was for you to build a life for yourself in your old city. But the other half of you was scared at the possibility of Seungcheol finding out about your new apartment and your new job; it was all too risky. 

Now that you’re here, a part of you wonders what you would have said if Jihoon told you that Mingyu was the man they were going to put into witness protection alongside yourself. Maybe if you knew from the beginning you would’ve refused, or at least asked to be placed somewhere that allowed you to be alone. 

“It’s fine Jihoon, we’ve unpacked everything, but our neighbours are quite noisy if I’m being honest,” you sigh, petting Norbert in your lap as you answer all of his questions. 

The first day you and Mingyu moved in, your neighbour Seungkwan took it upon himself to introduce you to Bridgwater. Not only did he give you the rundown of every family that lived on your block, but he also became very curious about you and Mingyu. Seungkwan’s questions hit you back to back as if you were being interviewed, and you don’t even remember how you answered any of them. 

“Who’s the handsome one carrying all your things?”

“Oh, that’s your husband? How long have you been married? How did you two meet?” 

“Do you two have any kids? No? Oh what a shame, this neighbourhood is filled with them. Does your husband have a twin brother? Don’t tell Vernon I said that — just joking!”

“Oh, who’s Vernon? He’s my boyfriend, he’s in the house somewhere, anyways why did you two decide to move to Bridgwater?” 

The questions went on for what felt like forever and before you knew it Mingyu had finished unpacking the first floor of the house. The place came fully furnished so you didn’t have much to do. But Seungkwan made you nervous to say the least, especially because you didn’t prepare to be quizzed on your first day in the neighbourhood. The only good thing to come out of that interaction was the brownies he baked, which tasted amazing, surprisingly enough. 

“Why? Should I look into it?” Jihoon suggests, bringing you out of your thoughts. 

You shake your head as if he can see you through the phone call. 

“No, it’s okay, one of them just likes to gossip I think,” you laugh. “Other than that we’re fine.” 

You hear Jihoon sigh out of relief, his day is already long enough. If he had to spend time looking into your neighbours to see if they had a criminal record, he would miss his dinner date. 

“Okay, good to know. I’ll call you again next week,” Jihoon says with a monotonous tone. 

A giggle leaves your lips, the exhaustion clear in his voice. You felt a little bad knowing he had to spend a lot of time on you and Mingyu’s case, but you were also thankful for the fact that you had someone to talk to from time to time. 

It's only been about a week since you arrived in your little suburbia ‘haven’, and you still haven’t made any friends in the neighbourhood. You don’t count Seungkwan… he was more like a pain in the ass than a friend if anything. Although his boyfriend Vernon wasn’t as bad; quiet and a little expressionless, at least he kept to himself. 

You hear the front door unlock with a beep, you already know who it is. 

Whipping your head to see Mingyu stepping through the front door, hands filled with grocery bags. His appearance is laughable, his tall stature and large muscles contrasting the pink Shiba Inu apron that he wears over his clothes. You weren’t sure where he had got it from or why he chose to wear it in public, but you don’t feel like it’s your place to question him. 

In the few days that you two have been living together, you begin to realize how different he is compared to his former mafia brothers. Mingyu had a knack for knowing his way around the kitchen, the whole house. He spent a lot of his free time cleaning, gardening, or making meals for the two of you. 

The two of you didn’t talk much, and there was still some awkwardness lingering in the air. Meals were eaten with minimal conversation, and during the nights you would read your books in the living room, Mingyu would sit on the opposite side attempting to get Norbert to warm up to him. 

“Norbert, please! Anytime but now, I have a shit ton of groceries that need to be put away!” You can hear Mingyu exasperate at the front of the house. 

Norbert���s meowing rings throughout the house and you already know that his claws are probably scratching away at Mingyu’s pants. From what you have gathered, Norbert isn’t very fond of Mingyu. You assume that he’s just not used to having another person around the house, but at the same time, you thought your cat would have started to get used to his presence by now. 

“Norbert, baby! Come and sit with me, I’ve got a new book for us to read,” you call out for him, saving Mingyu from your cat’s wrath. 

The pitter-patter of his claws grows louder as he makes his way towards you, Mingyu’s large sigh of relief following shortly after. You laugh to yourself at how much he likes to torment Mingyu, even though Norbert only weighs about twenty pounds and is a cat.  

The night goes on without another hitch. Mingyu prepares dinner for the two of you while you and Norbert dive into the first installment of Twilight. Reading aloud so your baby (cat) can follow along with the story about teenage vampires and werewolves. 

four. 

Mingyu was a man who thought he would never be able to escape his mafia, let alone be able to restart in a place that didn’t tie him to any of his illicit work. He never wanted to work for Seungcheol, nor did he want to live every day wondering if it was going to be his last. 

He sees himself as a simple man, and all his daydreams are centered around living a simple life. A home that’s fit for a family, a golden retriever to throw frisbees with, and neighbourhood barbecues. He thought it was all some far-fetched fantasy. 

It wasn’t until Jihoon got in contact with him, that’s when he realized that he finally had a chance at living the life he always dreamed of. What he didn’t know was that you would be the one he was going to be living with. But the moment Jihoon mentioned you, he knew that his wishes were more out of reach than he hoped. 

He didn’t have anything against you, but he still remembers the day you left Seungcheol. It's heavily ingrained in his memory, not only because your escape created an uproar, but it was also the day he realized he too needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

… 

“Boss? Wonwoo told me you wanted to talk,” Mingyu enters Seungcheol’s office, face painted with worry. 

The office faces the west side of the city, skyscrapers and clouds surrounding the large floor-to-ceiling windows. There sat Seungcheol, his hair tousled every which way due to his habit of constantly running his fingers through it. The most obvious indicator of Seungcheol’s stress is if his hair is a complete mess, and that is how Mingyu knew that there must be something wrong. 

“Y/n left,” Seungcheol’s voice breaks, head in his hands. 

His eyes are bloodshot, shoulders shaking as he cries to himself quietly. Seungcheol wasn’t prepared for you to leave, let alone disappear without a single goodbye.  He knew it was his fault too, and he knew why you left. The world flipped upside from that day onwards. Seungcheol hasn’t been the same since.

The air becomes thick, and Mingyu finds it hard to swallow. He knew how much Seungcheol adored you, and he knew that he would do anything for you. 

“What? Why? Did she say anything to you?” Mingyu panics, unsure what to say or how to comfort his leader. 

“No note, nothing,” Cheol sighs, picking at the chipped piece of wood on his desk. “All she left was her ring on the dresser.” 

“I’m sorry Cheol, I didn’t know.” Mingyu becomes meek, his voice softer than feathers falling onto the pavement. 

His stomach plummets to the ground. He had a feeling you found out what truly lies under Seungcheol’s business, but he didn’t know you would leave so hastily. He felt the guilt swirl throughout his body, but a part of him was relieved. Mingyu knew you weren’t meant for this lifestyle, and if you stayed any longer there would be no chance for you to escape. 

Wonwoo informed him that he told you about what Seungcheol does to bring money in. He told Mingyu that it wouldn’t be right to continue to let you live so carelessly without knowing what type of person your fiance is. 

It wasn’t long after that conversation that Mingyu found his way out of Seungcheol’s grasp too. He knows he should’ve felt bad, and that he should’ve at least found an excuse to leave Seungcheol. But he just couldn’t go through with it, he knew if he even spent a moment explaining himself, he would’ve never been able to leave. 

Mingyu was Seungcheol’s right-hand man, his confidant, and most importantly his best friend. Mingyu has seen Cheol grow into the person he is today, and it only makes him feel even more remorse. He knows he should’ve stopped him from becoming blinded by wealth, by power. But he didn’t and it caused him not only to lose his fianc��e, but also his brother. 

Since that day, Mingyu has constantly pondered what could’ve been if Seungcheol hadn’t turned to mafia life. Would they have been happy? Would they have lived long lives with families of their own? There are so many unanswered what-ifs. He knows he can’t change his past anymore, but he knows that wants a better future. Even if it meant spending a year faking a marriage with his former best friend’s ex-fiancée. 

five. 

“Oh Y/n-ie! It’s good to see you, I swear I haven’t seen you leave the house since you’ve moved in,” Seungkwan snips, giving you a tooth-achingly sweet smile. 

You try to suppress your eye-roll as much as possible as he walks over to your side of the comically green grassed yard. Seungkwan’s hand is on his hip as he watches you make your way to your car. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Seungkwan. Just needed to pick up a few things for dinner. Mingyu spent the afternoon at the country club,” you return his fake smile, trying to keep up the facade of a doting wife. 

“Oh! Is that so? I swear I thought your husband did the housework in your home. He’s always wearing that pink apron around the neighbourhood.” Seungkwan pretends to act invested in your “married life”, but he’s trying to get whatever gossip he can out of you. His real goal is purely to entertain the neighbourhood aunties with any information on the newlyweds. 

Stopping in your tracks, his words catch you by surprise. You should’ve known that Seungkwan is an observant person, especially because he somehow knows everything about everyone in Bridgewater.

“Oh we split the chores evenly,” you let out a forced laugh, he offers to do the housework, and you think to yourself before continuing, “And he likes the apron, so who am I to deny his happiness?” 

Not wanting to be grilled by Seungkwan any longer, you hastily slip into your car before he can get another word in. 

…

“Norbert, please calm down honey, I’m trying to cook! And if I don’t end up eating neither will you,” you warn your cat to stop pawing at your leg. 

Norbert was extra clingy today, and knowing you weren’t the best cook in the world, you couldn’t afford to ruin the recipe for a second time. Yes, a second time. 

The first attempt at making alfredo for both you and Mingyu ended miserably, and thankfully you were smart enough to buy double the ingredients just in case any mistakes were to occur when you were cooking. The recipe online looked simple, and you even watched a few TikTok videos in an attempt to expand your knowledge. 

You thought that making a cream sauce and boiling some noodles would be pretty straightforward, but somehow, you burnt the boiling noodles. Seeing all the noodles stick to the bottom of the pan you decided to just leave the searing pot in the sink and worry about it later, which turned out to be another grave mistake. 

Mistake number two started when you thought the pot was cool enough to touch, earning you a sizzling burn on your soft skin. This explains Norbert’s clingy behaviour, witnessing all your fuck ups through his kitten eyes. You try not to swear in front of the baby but you couldn’t help but let out a few curses while you attempted to bandage up your burn.

 To say the least, you shouldn’t be let into the kitchen from now on. But you felt bad that Mingyu made food for the both of you instead of letting you fend for yourself, so you thought you could at least return the gesture. 

Norbert’s meows come to an abrupt stop as he hears the front door beep, making his way to greet Mingyu at the door. Except Norbert never greets Mingyu in a friendly way. Not more than ten seconds pass before you begin to hear Norbert’s hissing and clawing into the man's thighs. 

“Norbert! Please! Where’s your mom? Can’t you just sit with her so I can at least take my shoes off?” Mingyu begs, causing you to snort. 

Norbert doesn't listen to anyone but you, and even that is a rare occurrence for your sassy cat. 

“Honey, come to the kitchen!” you yell at your cat to return to his rightful side beside you. 

Mingyu comes speeding down the hallway, Norbert following him, his curious eyes peeking at your frame. He watches as you concentrate on making the alfredo sauce, tongue stuck out and a layer of sweat lining your forehead. 

The sun is setting behind you, the golden rays hitting your face, highlighting your features beautifully. Mingyu is entranced, his prior feelings of hunger are nothing but a memory of the past. 

You can feel his eyes on you, his stare boring holes into the side of your face and it causes your shoulders to stiffen slightly. Turning to face him, you quirk an inquisitive brow, not sure as to why he’s so trained on you. The gears begin to turn, and finally, the imaginary lightbulb begins to ding. 

“I was calling for Norbert,” you clarified. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, but it’s fine if you’re here too. I tried to make us dinner, I know you’re the cook but I felt bad that you’re always the one preparing food for us,” you shrug, trying not to focus on how handsome Mingyu looks in his golfing attire. 

His large biceps stretch the material of his shirt beyond belief, while the pants define his slim waist. The strands of hair are somehow perfectly placed, and his eyes are so kind, it would be stupid to deny his beauty. You can admit that Mingyu is extremely attractive, and you know you don’t owe Seungcheol anything, but the thought of being involved with Mingyu more than you already are could fuck things up for your future, especially knowing this arrangement isn’t permanent.

“I don’t mind though.” 

“I know you don’t but I do,” you sigh, finishing up the dish by adding the sauce to the pasta. 

Turning towards the island, you begin to plate the rest of the sides for dinner, trying your best to make sure that this batch is more edible than the first attempt. Mingyu continues to watch you, his arms crossed as he leans against the fridge. 

This is everything Mingyu wished for himself, the view of you plating the food you’re about to eat together, even if you’re his ‘best friend’s’ ex. Playing golf at the country club, even if it’s with Jihoon, who wanted to be able to meet without being inconspicuous. Coming home to a fluffy fur baby, even though Norbert hates his guts. It may not be perfect, or how Mingyu imagined it exactly, but it’s better than before. Better than when he was living every day like it was his last, working a job that brought him no happiness. 

“Did you burn yourself earlier?” he asks you, noticing the bandage you wrapped around your left hand. 

“Yeah, I’m not the best cook so, if the food doesn't taste right, sorry,” you apologize in advance, not wanting Mingyu to get his hopes up. 

He laughs at how apologetic you look, and you turn to give him a glare, his canines poking out of his smile like fangs. This is probably one of the first times you two held a full conversation. The only other time was when you were deciding on how the house was going to be run, and picking out your separate bedrooms. 

Mingyu was kind enough to let you stay in the master bedroom while he slept in the room across the hall from yours. If you took away the history you had with Mignyu and Seungcheol, you could imagine that the two of you are just like roommates. Living together, acquainted, but not exactly friendly or close. 

It isn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be, and you may have misjudged Mingyu at first. He’s a lot different than he was all those years ago, or maybe you find him to be different now because you didn't know him all that well when you were still with Seungcheol. 

You find Mingyu to be kind, soft-hearted, and a man who somehow knows a lot about taking care of the house. Even knowledgeable on how to clean Norbert’s litter box, and give him the occasional bath.

“What did you and Jihoon talk about at the country club?” you ask him, wanting to know if there’s any important news that should be brought to your attention. 

“Well he said that the FBI is still on the hunt for Seungcheol, but the rest of the guys have already been put into custody,” he sighs. 

“And Wonwoo?” 

“He’s fine, they pardoned him for giving up information,” Mingyu mutters, walking up to the space beside you. 

He takes the bowl of lettuce from your hands, adding in all the ingredients you prepped for the salad to have alongside your pasta. The brush of your hands makes you blush like some teenage girl, but you allow him to help you nonetheless. You didn’t realize how tiring cooking was because you’ve never had to cook for more than one person before. 

“That’s good to hear. If it weren’t for Wonwoo, I wouldn’t have been able to leave that damn place,” you laugh bitterly, folding the sauce into your noodles, making sure they were fully coated. 

“I was there, that day,” Mingyu mentions, his eyes trained on preparing the food in front of him, “Seungcheol was a wreck.” 

“I know, and I know it hurt him, but I couldn’t stand being there anymore. Especially after Wonwoo told me the truth.” 

“It’s okay, he’s not the same guy I knew from when we were kids either.” 

“I hope he’s moved on at least.” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu shrugs, his eyes glassy, “I left a few days after you did.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, for the same reasons you did, and also for myself,” he sighs, moving away to grab plates from the cupboards. 

Standing there, you’re stunned. Mingyu was someone Seungcheol saw as his brother, and you thought they would live their mafia life together till the end. As cheesy as it sounds, there were times you felt that your ex cared more for Mingyu than any other person who worked for him. 

Mingyu begins to set the table, Norbert following closely as he peers at the counter to see all the food that you’ve made. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought that even your cat was aware of the stiff atmosphere that blankets you and Mingyu. 

You don’t know if you should pry, so you just nod and help him with putting dinner on the table. And for the rest of the night, it was quiet. Eating in silence while Norbert watches Bluey in the living room, something that you’ve always put on for him just to keep him occupied while you and Mingyu eat dinner. 

After dinner was finished, Mingyu offered to wash the dishes, allowing you to relax and enjoy some episodes of Bluey with Norbert purring peacefully by your side. 

“Mind if I join?” Mingyu enters the living room, wearing sweats and a white tank top. 

You give him a shy smile gesturing for him to sit on your right side while Norbert lays on the cushion to your left. His taunt muscles distract you for a second, but you do your best to shake the attraction from your coursing veins.  The couch dips and Mingyu lets out a relieved sigh. Probably because he was tired from the day he spent trying to pretend he was out golfing with Jihoon. 

“So what’s the show about?” Mingyu asks you, his eyes trained on your side profile. 

“A show about a dog family,” you chuckle, “Originally it was meant for Norbert to watch when I’m working or when we’re eating, but it’s pretty good.” 

“Really? Isn’t it for kids?” Mingyu snorts but continues to sit next to you, watching the said kids' show. 

“Yeah it is, but Norbert is a kid to me,” you laugh, giving Norbert extra pats. 

“He’s a little menace that one,” Mingyu shakes his head, “I don’t think he likes me very much.” 

“Norbert just needs to get used to you,” you shrug, “I’ve had him since I left Seungcheol, so he’s seen me at my worst, he might just be overprotective of me.” 

Mingyu nods, taking in everything you’re telling him. He understands how leaving your ex-fiance is traumatic and heartbreaking. He knows it wasn’t easy for you, but at least you had Norbert to help you heal. 

“It wasn’t an easy decision, and Norbert helped me stay strong. It was lonely without Seungcheol for a long time, and a part of me will always love who he used to be.” 

Heat overwhelms Mingyu’s body, and his heart breaks for you. He can’t imagine what it's like to love someone and find out they’re not the person you thought they were. He knew you tried to tolerate his work, but at some point, you were led to your breaking point. 

“I hope you know you did the right thing. Seungcheol was going down a dark path and you were able to get out,” Mingyu smiles at you, his eyes filled with sincerity. 

“Thank you Mingyu, I appreciate that,” you return his smile. 

The two of you spend the rest of the night watching episodes of Bluey with Norbert, talking a little in between about the characters. Laughing at the scenes with Bluey and her younger sister, falling into a comfortable silence with each passing second. 

…

You feel warm, no, hot even. The sunlight hitting your face makes your eyes scrunch in discomfort. There's an ache in your shoulders as you begin to wake up from a very uncomfortable sleep. An arm pinning you down to the couch, a leg over yours. It takes you a while to begin to comprehend where you are and who is lying next to you. 

Mingyu’s snores fill your ears, heavy breaths tickling the back of your neck. You almost fall onto the carpet as you realize who exactly is holding you. Last night ended so peacefully, so much so that you don’t even remember falling asleep to begin with. 

Yet here you are, enveloped in his grasp, panicking and wondering how you’re going to escape without waking him up. And if matters couldn’t get any worse, you feel a hard bump brush against your lower back. The blush on your cheeks intensifies, he can’t be, you think to yourself. But you know what exactly is poking you as if this situation could get any more awkward. 

It's normal, right? Men get morning wood all the time, you thought to yourself. 

“Shit…” you whisper to yourself, slowly prying Mingyu’s arm from off your waist. 

He stirs in his sleep as you move off the couch but not enough to wake him up. As you stand up to walk away, you take one last peek at him, wondering how you two ended up falling asleep while watching Bluey of all shows. 

The usually sharp features are softened by his slumber, giving him a youthful look. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look so peaceful, and it suits him. This neighbourhood suits him as if he’s been living here all his life. It makes you feel a little envious knowing how easy it is for him to assimilate. He remembers all the neighbours' names and says hello to everyone who passes him while he's working in the yard, he just made it all look so easy to forget his life in the bustling city. Although you can’t blame him, you can tell he loves it here because of how much care he puts into the house. You can’t help but wonder why he’s trying so hard knowing both of you will part ways by next year. 

six. 

While you spent the majority of the day holed up in your office trying to finish off the rest of your projects, Mingyu decided that it was a lovely day to try and bond more with Norbert. He wasn’t sure how to make the stubborn kitten fall for him, but he thought that a nice walk around the neighbourhood couldn’t hurt. 

The day had barely started and Norbert was already making a fuss. Mingyu isn’t well-versed when it comes to cats; he’s more of a dog person himself. So to his surprise, Norbert was very adamant about staying indoors today. 

“Don’t you wanna explore the neighbourhood, Norbert?” Mingyu tries to persuade the cat, which makes him feel like a fool. 

Norbert gives him a blank stare obviously, and Mingyu wonders why he’s even trying knowing that the cat probably can’t understand him anyway. Trying his best to compromise with the ever-so-stubborn Norbert, a light bulb goes off in his head. 

It surely wasn’t easy, and there were a few scratches here and there, but Mingyu finally was able to put Norbert into the basket of his bicycle. The cat meowed like crazy until he was hit with the fresh air and warm sunlight. His meows died down and he sat in the basket peacefully, watching the kids play on the street and the cars pass by. 

“See? Not so bad now is it?” Mingyu chuckles, noticing the shift in Norbert’s mood. He meows back while nuzzling into the safety of his blanket. 

“It’ll be a boys’ day today, your mom’s busy working,” Mingyu continues, even though the animal can’t understand what he’s saying.

Feeling the wind brush through his hair, Mingyu takes a deep breath of fresh air. A content smile made its way onto his face, he could get used to this. The neighbours of Bridgewater waved to him as he biked along the streets. It's so peaceful, everyone is happy, and Mingyu is happy. He loved to explore even if it was just by himself, even if it meant he was alone with his thoughts. 

“Mingyu darling, what are you doing out and about today?” one of the older women he sees daily calls out for him. 

“Good afternoon! Me and Norbert just wanted to explore today,” he smiles with a toothy grin. 

The woman blushes at his handsome visuals, trying not to get caught up in his charms. She looks behind his large frame, spotting the cat sleeping peacefully in the basket attached to his bike. Letting out a giggle, finding it quite funny that Norbert is a cat and not a dog, usually, you don’t take cats out for these types of things. 

“Where’s that wife of yours? I’ve only seen her a few times, but oh my, isn’t she so pretty? You got lucky you know,” she chuckles, patting Mingyu’s arm playfully. 

Mingyu’s eyes shine at the mention of you, he agrees that you’re pretty but it feels a little weird that you're referred to as his wife, knowing that it’s all a facade. 

“Thank you miss, I’ll have to let her know that you said that,” he replies kindly while Norbert stirs a little in his spot before returning to his sleep. 

“Please don’t call me Miss, it's so formal! Just call me Auntie, okay?” she returns his kind smile. “You know what, I’ve got some leftover kimchi, why don’t you take it home, for you and your wife.” 

Mingyu’s eyes widened, his heart warmed by her act of kindness. “Is that ok? You don’t have to feel obligated to do that.” 

“Oh please, you young people, always so polite. I want to! So please share it with your wife, make some kimchi stew for dinner,” she reassures him, leaving him at her front yard to fetch a container of said kimchi. 

She comes back with a huge tub, enough to feed them for a whole month maybe. Handing him over the large container, she reminds him to come back when they run out. Bidding her goodbye, Mingyu returns home from his bike ride successfully with a sleepy cat and a comically large tub of fermented cabbage in tow. 

…

The smell of kimchi stew wafts from the kitchen into your office causing your stomach to growl with hunger. Focused on your pending tasks, you didn’t realize how fast the time flew by while you were working. Glancing over at the clock you’re surprised that it's already a quarter to five.

Stepping out to see what Mingyu’s doing in the kitchen, you find his back turned to you, nursing a large pot of stew on the burner. His large frame is accentuated by a white tank top, the pink string of his apron strewn along his waist. At this point, you weren’t sure if you were drooling over the smell of the food or the sight of your muscular fake husband. 

“What are you cooking?” you call out, leaning against the door frame that leads to your workspace. 

Mingyu jumps at the sound of your voice, surprised that you’ve come out so early. He knows you tend to work for long periods, only coming out when you’ve fully completed your assigned projects. 

“Kimchi stew, the lady down the street gave us a huge tub,” he replies, still stirring the pot without looking back at you. “I took Norbert out for a bike ride and she offered so.” 

“You took Norbert for a bike ride?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. 

Norbert is the type of cat who doesn’t like getting picked up and knowing that information makes it hard to believe Mingyu was able to successfully put him into the basket attached to his bike. Imagining him fighting to get your very grumpy cat into the bike made you giggle, especially because you know how much Norbert doesn’t like Mingyu.   

“Yeah, after a few scratches, he got in and I think he liked it. He fell asleep for most of it though,” Mingyu snorted, recalling how much that furball of fury put up a fight till his body hit the basket. 

“It’s nice that you’re trying to bond with him, it just takes him a while to warm up to you.” 

“Yeah, I figured we just needed a boy's day while you were working.” 

“Hmm, anyways the kimchi stew, is it ready?” you inquire while your stomach’s impatience continues to grow with each passing second. 

“It should be good, do you mind setting the table for me?” he requests while taking the pot off the burner. 

You don’t say anything else, moving to the living room to turn on more episodes for Norbert before grabbing plates from the cabinets to place them on the small dinner table. 

The serving dish needed for the stew sat at the very top shelf of the cupboard and your arms were simply too short to grab it. Your movements come to an abrupt halt the moment you feel Mingyu stand close behind you, one hand on your waist while the other hovers over you to grab the bowl. 

“Let me get it for you,” he grunts, taking the dish in his hand to ladle in the stew. 

Heart pounding in your chest, his breath tickles the back of your neck, a shiver running down your spine. Mingyu’s body encases yours as his arm comes back down to place the dish on the counter. 

Cursing yourself, you're thankful your back is turned to him or else he would be able to see the blush that’s starting to bloom on your cheeks. You mumble a small thanks before going to the table to resume setting the plates down for dinner. 

As you two eat in silence you think about all the moments you’ve had with Mingyu today. The time you slept on the couch until just now when he held you close. It didn’t even mean anything, it shouldn’t mean anything, yet it replays in your mind like clockwork. 

seven. 

The ringing of the doorbell brings you out of your thoughts, placing your book down, you head over to answer the door. It’s none other than your gossip of a neighbour Seungkwan. 

“Lovely evening Y/n-ie!” He smiles brightly, inviting himself into the foyer of your house before you could even protest. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes yet again, stepping aside to allow Seungkwan to go on with whatever it is that brought him barging into your home. 

“Good evening,” you respond curtly, suspicious as to what he could need at this hour. 

“Vernon and I have some friends over for a little nightcap and dessert, do you and Mingyu want to join?” he asks, eyes never leaving yours. 

To a normal and maybe less paranoid person, one would assume that Seungkwan is just being a kind neighbour, but you’re not so easily fooled. The glint in his eyes makes you realize there’s probably an ulterior motive to his ‘act of kindness’. 

“Oh no it’s okay, it would be rude to impose,” you try to play it off politely, but the fucker wouldn’t budge. 

“Nonsense! I’m inviting you and Mingyu because I want you two there,” he explains, waving his hand at you.

Before you can refuse him even more, you hear Mingyu coming out of his room to check up on why you’re taking so long at the front door. 

“Y/n, is everything alright?” he calls out for you as he walks towards the foyer. 

“Everything’s all fine and dandy Mingyu, I just came over to invite you and Y/n over for some drinks and dessert!” Seungkwan informs him before you can get another word out. 

“That sounds like fun actually, why don’t we go baby?” Mingyu turns over to you, his eyebrows raised, his smile tight as he tries to silently tell you that he’s putting an act up for Seungkwan.

Still flustered by the pet name, you cough out a yes. Turning over to Seungkwan to give him a fake smile. He returns your smile, eyes squinted, you can see how hard the gears are working in that brain of his. You know that he probably finds you two odd because of how awkward you and Mingyu are with each other, but you attempt to play it off as normal as possible. 

“It’s settled then! Let's go, can’t keep everyone else waiting,” he exclaims as he opens the door, gesturing for the two of you to walk out first before closing the door. 

Crossing over to Seungkwan’s side of the yard, he opens the door for the two of you like the perfect host that you figured he would be. You cannot deny that his extroverted persona allows him to be so persuasive, but you can’t get over the fact that he’s a little too curious. 

“The newlyweds are here!” he calls out and five heads whip over to stare at you and Mingyu standing awkwardly in the foyer of their home. 

Mingyu grasps your hand in his, his palms rough, probably from all the work he does in the yard. Making your way over to the couch, a man with long hair gets up to pour you two drinks. This is the most that you two have come into contact with each other consciously if you don’t count the time on the couch. 

A part of you wonders if Mingyu realizes what happened this morning, but you’re too embarrassed to bring it up. So you’ll leave it and hope he doesn’t remember you two squeezed so intimately on the living room sofa. 

“Everyone, this is Y/n and Mingyu, they moved into the house beside ours a couple of weeks ago,” he introduces the two of you. 

As the two of you say your hello’s Mingyu pulls over to sit beside him on the couch, his arm wrapped around your waist. The blush on your cheeks stays permanently as you’re practically sitting on his lap. You try not to blow your cover but it’s hard with so many people's eyes on you. 

“You both already know Vernon-ie, the one grabbing your drinks is Jeonghan and that’s his wife, Valerie,” Seungkwan gets you two acquainted with the couple before moving on. “That’s Joshua and Maren, his wife.” 

“Nice to meet you! I’m Valerie but you can just call me Val,” the woman with brownish black hair smiles at you, and you can only nod, still overwhelmed with the amount of people you just met, “So why did you guys choose to live in Bridgewater?” 

“We thought it would be a nice place to live, I work from home and Mingyu is currently taking a break. The first time we saw the listing, we knew it was going to be our forever home,” you lie straight through your teeth. 

There's a twinge of guilt that stirs at the pit of your stomach, you feel bad for lying to these people because of how kind they all looked. You even felt bad for lying to Seungkwan, albeit he can be a nosy little shit but at least he’s nice enough to introduce you to his friends.

“If you don’t mind me asking where did you and Mingyu meet?” Maren, the woman sitting beside Joshua asks with a curious sparkle in her eyes. 

You almost choke on your drink, eyes wide because you were not prepared for all these questions thrown at you. Thankfully Mingyu took the lead this time, his thumb rubbing soothing circles where he had his hand placed on your waist. 

“We met through a mutual friend, we were in university at the time,” he smiles warmly and Maren listens intently, hanging onto Mingyu’s every word. “The moment I saw her I knew I was going to marry her.” 

Mingyu turns to you, placing a kiss on the top of your head, and your cheeks heat up for what feels like the millionth time today. Even though his acting this way with you is all a facade your heart can’t help but skip a beat. 

“What! That’s so cute,” Maren gushes before glaring at her husband before hitting his arm jokingly. “Why can’t you say cheesy stuff like that?” 

Joshua’s eyes go wide and he can’t help but stutter. “Bro you’re making the rest of us look really bad right now.” 

Mingyu barks out a laugh and just shrugs nonchalantly knowing that no one is immune to his charms. Even if all of this is a lie, he can’t help but play into the sappy newly-wed trope with you, and it doesn't help that he finds you so caring and beautiful too. There’s something about the way you lean into him on the couch and the soft smile you give him while talking about your “forever home”, you make it easy for him to imagine fake scenarios of how you two met. 

“What university did you two go to?” Jeonghan pipes up from his seat, his arm wrapping around Val as he sips on his glass of bourbon. 

“I went to Yonsei, I majored in statistics. Mingyu and I met at a club with our mutual friends,” you try not to sound too nervous while you piggyback off of Mingyu’s lie. 

The back of your neck feels hot from having everyone inquire about your history with Mingyu, and it doesn’t help that your ‘husband’’s sitting so close to you, his body heat transferring over to you. At least it wasn’t a complete lie, you did go to Yonsei and you majored in stats; just way before you met both Seungcheol and Mingyu. 

“What about you Mingyu?” Jeonghan moves on to him, and he perks up in his seat, mouth full of the cheesecake that Seungkwan made. The food fills his cheeks slightly and you giggle at how much he resembles a chipmunk. 

“I went to SNU, and majored in business,” he states after swallowing his dessert and clearing his throat. 

“Okay, enough with the interrogation. Can we talk about something else?” Vernon interrupts, obviously feeling bad for the fact that the rest of them have been asking you two questions for the majority of the night. 

The rest of the group laughs, probably because they know that Vernon doesn’t talk unless he’s prompted to. Although you don’t know him very well you could tell that he was more of a listening type. It makes sense that he and Seungkwan are together, he does enough talking for the both of them. 

You were more surprised by Mingyu’s answer though, you didn’t know that he went to SNU, if that was even the truth. Although he does look like the business type. There was something about him that exudes the energy of a CEO or a man who’s just good at making connections. He’s able to catch people's attention, his words carry the weight of someone who isn’t afraid to speak out loud. 

With the way he talked to Seungkwan’s friends tonight, you realized how well-articulated he is, and the fact that he’s able to get people to listen to what he has to say. Although he’s a little goofy, if you didn’t know him you would’ve assumed he’s someone important just by how he carries himself outside of the house. There’s a swell of pride within you when you watch him talk about your ‘past’, and for some reason, you don’t mind it. If anything, you’re looking forward to more moments like this. 

…

The rest of the evening went along smoothly after that, and by the time everyone was ready to leave it was nearing one in the morning. You helped Seungkwan clean up in the kitchen, putting away the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. The two of you were quiet for a bit, only talking when you asked him about what goes where. 

A part of you felt bad for being so curt with Seungkwan in the beginning. Maybe you were wrong about him and he just likes to be a nosy nieghbour, maybe it’s his way of making friends. You can’t help but be guarded due to your past and you misjudged him too quickly. 

Maybe it was the glasses of wine you had or the fact that you saw a different version of him. But there’s a lovable side to him, and also a side that doesn’t mind embarrassing himself a little to get a laugh out of his friends. 

“I want to thank you for inviting me and Mingyu tonight, all of our friends are in the city so we don’t get to see them often,” you confessed. “It’s nice to have someone else to talk to other than Mingyu or Norbert.” 

He turns to you with a genuine smile, and you notice that maybe that glint in his eyes is permanent, a glint that shows his happy demeanor and not the type that’s meant to show his mischievousness. 

“I’m glad you had fun because you’ll be invited to things like these from now on,” he expresses, his smile reaching his eyes now. 

“I appreciate it, Mingyu needs more friends in the neighbourhood, ones that are his age and don’t constantly drool over him,” you roll your eyes, recalling all the aunties who stroll past your front yard daily. 

“I can be his friend but I can’t promise I won’t drool over him,” he giggles, causing you to slap his arm playfully. 

“Hey! Leave my husband alone, you have your own. Don't get greedy now,” you feign anger at him, glaring at him before bursting out laughing. 

Mingyu walks into the kitchen, handing over the rest of the dishes that were left in the living room. His eyes dart back and forth between you as he realizes how much closer you two have gotten tonight. 

“Thank you, Gyu, if you ever get tired of being bossed around by Y/n you can always live with me and Nonie,” Seungkwan giggles as he calls him by his nickname, giving his large bicep a squeeze. 

You gasp at how forward Seungkwan is, your hand placed over your chest as you pretend to be offended by his words. He only glances back at you to stick his tongue out. 

“You’re so childish, he’s my husband,” you attested, pulling Mingyu by his arm so he could stand closer to you. “And I’m not bossy, Mingyu just enjoys doing housework!” 

Mingyu is even more confused now, but he cracks a smile when he sees how playful you’ve become. He concludes that maybe you just had a little more to drink than normal and goes along with you and Seungkwan’s teasing. 

“Woah that’s enough you two, there’s enough Mingyu for everyone,” he laughs and you give him a sour look. He was obviously feeling himself too much in that moment, but you can’t help but chuckle at how cocky he sounds. 

“Let’s go home Gyu, before Seungkwan decides to hold you hostage.” you huff emphasizing his nickname before you drag him over to the front door. “Bye Seungkwan, I already know I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

Waving goodbye to Kwan, you pass Vernon on your way as he sits on the couch scrolling on his phone while the two other couples mingle amongst themselves. 

“Bye everyone, it was nice meeting you, but it’s way past her bedtime,” Mingyu muses, motioning over to you. Your eyes feel droopy and you were practically hanging off of Mingyu’s body as he held you by the waist. 

They all say their goodbyes to the two of you with promises to meet soon again. Mingyu guides you through the front door and across the green grassed lawn back to your place. 

The time you spent with everyone tonight allowed you to recognize that maybe it isn’t so bad living here. Especially if you’ll be able to talk to them more often. No one but Mingyu knows about your past, and that reassures you to start new friendships, even though they’re temporary.

eight.

The next morning you woke up to your phone ringing incessantly, to the point you almost threw it across your room. It wasn’t until you read the name “Jihoon” flashing across the screen, causing you to fully wake up from what feels like a hundred years' worth of sleep. You silently promised yourself to remind Mingyu to not let you drink so much wine at Seungkwan’s house again. 

“Jihoon? Is everything alright? You usually check up on us in the evening,” you stammered, sleep still evident in your voice. 

“Y/n, hey sorry to call so early but…they’ve located Seungcheol,” he sighs, the news of his whereabouts hanging in the air. 

Gulping nervously, your palms sweat. The way Jihoon sounded a little apprehensive made you feel uncertainty brewing in the pit of your stomach. 

“Go on.” 

“He used a burner to call a friend of his I’m guessing, but we were able to ping it and he’s in the town next to yours.”

“What?!” Now you’re fully freaking out, pushing your comforter to go and find Mingyu. 

“I’m really sorry Y/n,” Jihoon sounds just as stressed as you are. 

Searching around the house you see him sitting on the sofa with Norbert beside him, they’re watching more episodes of Bluey, but he pauses the show after noticing the panicked look on your face. You go to sit beside him putting your phone on speaker so the both of you can hear what Jihoon has to say. 

“You’re on speaker, Mingyu’s right beside me,” you mention before allowing him to continue. 

His sigh is audible through the speakers of your phone, and your blood pressure rises. If Jihoon is this worried then you should probably just be as worried. 

“They found his location to be at a motel in the next town over, we don’t know how he found out but he might be looking for you two,” he explains carefully. “I’m sending over another Marshall officer to watch over you two while we continue to track Seungcheol. You two should be safe with him but try not to leave the neighbourhood for now, it could get dangerous if he ends up seeing either of you.” 

“Okay got it, thank you Jihoon,” Mingyu replies, his hand subconsciously placed over yours as you two bear the news of your very dangerous ex potentially on the hunt for you two. 

Jihoon gives you two his regards before he hangs up, probably too busy to linger on the phone for any longer. 

Giving Mingyu a nervous look, he can tell how hard this information is for you to handle. After a month of being here in what felt like a sanctuary from the dangers of the outside world, you’re pulled back into reality. You’re reminded of why you’re really here, more scared than ever. 

The tears start to fall before you even realize and Mingyu doesn’t say anything else, instead, he pulls you into your arms and tries to comfort you as much as possible. Even though he’s just as scared as you are, he’s determined to protect you, to protect his home, even Norbert. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he whispers into your ear as you cry into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt. 

“You did nothing wrong, Mingyu,” you blabber as his hand rubs your back, trying to console your sobs. “I’m just so scared, what if he hurts us? What if you get hurt? I wouldn’t be able to handle it.” 

“Hey hey, it’s okay, I got you, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Don’t forget where I came from before all this,” he reassures you, pulling you back to look you in your eyes with a solemn stare. “He’s not going to touch even a single hair on you, or Nobert.” 

You giggle a little at the fact that he’s always so inclusive to the cat who’s a bitch to him but you’re happy to know that he’s willing to protect all of you. He laughs with you, wiping away the tears that have fallen from your eyes, his touch as gentle as a mouse despite how large his hands are. 

“You’re the best fake husband, I hope you know that,” you mumble as you go back into his embrace. “I know I haven’t said it yet, but I appreciate everything you’ve done for us.” 

“Thank you Y/n, you’re the best fake wife too,” he whispers back, kissing the top of your head just like he did last night. 

Except this time there’s no one to fool, there’s no one to lie to. It’s just the two of you, and the subtle meaning behind his affection makes you wish that it was Mingyu you fell for all those years ago instead. 

…

Jihoon: I have an officer who’ll be patrolling the area, his name is Jun Wen. Here’s his badge number: ###### and picture. Just in case someone tries to come and impersonate him, also don’t mind if he’s a little weird, that's just how he is; and yes, he knows what he’s doing so don’t worry. You’re in safe hands. 

An eyebrow quirks up as you read the last part of his text wondering what he meant about “weird”. As if on cue, the sound of the doorbell reverberates throughout your house.  That must be him, you thought to yourself. 

Mingyu leaves his spot on the couch and goes to get the door. He's become extra protective of you since the call you had with Jihoon this morning. It allows you to relax a little knowing he’ll be the one to answer the door from now on. 

“Uh, Y/n? Why’s there some guy meowing at Norbert on our front porch?” Mingyu asks you with a puzzled expression on his face. 

“Huh?” you’re just as confused as he is, but you walk over to Mingyu with your phone in hand regardless. 

Looking down at the picture Jihoon sent and back at the man squatted beside Norbet, you realize this is what Jihoon meant about him being weird. From the picture that was sent, he looks like a perfectly normal guy, maybe he just really likes cats? You wondered to yourself.

“Oh that’s Jun, the guy Jihoon sent over,” you mumble, showing Mingyu the picture on your phone. 

“Huh,” Mingyu says, dumbfounded. 

Opening the door you don’t say anything, just watching the man named Jun make noises at your cat, who looks disgruntled and very annoyed at the random human disturbing his sleep. He’s dressed in normal clothing instead of a uniform, probably so that the neighbours don’t ask any questions. 

“Mah-ow, mahhh-owww,” Jun keeps on making weird noises, blissfully unaware of the two of you staring at him from the now-opened front door. 

“Uh excuse me, sir, what are you doing?” you call out to him, the confusion still very clear on your face. 

Norbert hears your voice, ears perking up before he slips past Mingyu’s legs to go back into the house. His little claws clack against the hardwood as he makes his way onto the couch to continue with his afternoon nap. 

“Aw man, you guys scared the cat away,” he sighs animatedly before standing up to greet the two of you with his hand out to shake. “Hi, my name’s Jun, I’ll make sure bad guys won’t come and attack.” 

You and Mingyu exchange looks before looking back at Jun, then back at each other again. This is definitely not the type of guy you were expecting, but Jihoon trusts him, and you trust Jihoon’s judgment. 

“We didn’t-uh, never mind, anyways I’m Y/n, this is Mingyu,” you start to explain that you're not the one to scare Norbet away, but you quickly change your mind. Instead, you return his handshake with a curt smile. 

“Well, I'll just be patrolling around the neighbourhood, you’ll see me parked a few houses down once in a while. If you need anything, here’s my number.” He hands you his card which is filled with doodles of cats. 

He really does like cats, you confirm. 

He walks away with a wave before going back into his car and driving off. Mingyu bursts out laughing, hands clutching his stomach before he sighs, wiping off fake tears from his eyes. 

“That’s the guy that’s going to be helping us? Really?” he chuckles, looking at you like you’d know the answer to Jun’s odd behaviour. 

“Hey, don’t ask me, ask Jihoon,” you slap his arm playfully before laughing with him. 

“Well, hopefully, nothing bad happens from now on, I honestly think we could manage without a bodyguard of sorts, or whatever he is,” Mingyu snorts, off put by Jun’s personality. 

“Jihoon appointed him, so I’m sure he’s well trained. He wouldn’t have sent him over otherwise,” you rationalize, not wanting to doubt the person who’s meant to be protecting you from Seungcheol. 

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s just go inside, I’ll make us kimchi pancakes,” Mingyu beckons, and you close the door behind you before following him to the kitchen. 

Jun being there just gives you an extra layer of reassurance, and you know Mingyu is just as capable, but it doesn’t hurt to have backup. Seungcheol is a smart man, and you’re not sure what tricks he has up his sleeve, so it’s better to be safe than sorry. 

…

“Okay so now we just have to mix the pajeon mix with the kimchi,” Mingyu instructs, once again wearing his pink ruffled apron, but this time you’re wearing a matching one. 

With your hair tied up, and hands messy with kimchi pancake mix, you follow every instruction that Mingyu gives you. It was his idea to teach you to cook, especially because he knows you’re not well-versed in the kitchen. 

“Now what?” you ask, looking up at him for guidance, but before you can instruct him you spot the flour splattered on his nose. “Hey, you’ve got a little bit of… lemme just—” 

Not realizing your hands were covered in the wet batter you end up getting the mixture all over his face too. Gasping at what you’ve just done, Mingyu looks at you with wide eyes before taking some of the batter in the bowl and smearing it on your face. 

“Hey! I didn’t mean to, why’d you do that?” you let out a boisterous laugh, running away from him before he could catch you again. 

“I know you did that on purpose!” he yells out, chasing you around the kitchen island in circles. 

“No, I didn’t! Stop chasing me!” you squeal as he starts to close the distance between you two. 

“Liar, I’m getting my revenge!” he laughs along with you, hot on your trail. 

The two of you run in circles for a while till you have to catch your breath, causing you to slow down. Mingyu takes this opportunity to finally be able to get a hold of you, wrapping his hands around your waist with little effort before placing you on the counter. 

“Say your final words now,” he fakes a serious tone, his crinkled as he tries to hold back his laughter. 

Before you can get another word in he tickles your sides causing you to squirm against him as your back hits the counter. The bowl filled with kimchi pancake mix is long forgotten, half empty because of how much of it got onto both your clothes. 

“Ok stop! I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to, I promise,” your words getting cut off by your laughter, Mingyu not relinquishing his hold on you. 

He stops for a moment, his finger pointed at you, “You promise?” 

You nod innocently, his upper body flushed against yours, legs intertwined at his waist as he pins you down to the counter with his other hand. 

“Not!” you bite the finger pointed at you, but Mingyu’s reflexes are too fast, his large hands pinning your wrists to the counter once more. 

The two of you have calmed down considerably since then, both tired from running around the kitchen. Your laboured breaths are the only thing that can be heard within the confines of your home. Mingyu’s face is dangerously close to yours, and if you leaned forward your lips would touch. 

The pounding in your chest doesn’t subside and Mingyu’s eyes don’t leave yours. His strong arms are perfectly within your line of sight, and at this moment you feel like you and Mingyu are the only people in the whole world. There are no fears or doubts, no scary ex hunting you down. Just you and Mingyu. 

Without even thinking, you both lean forward and capture each other’s lips in a soft kiss. You can tell he’s unsure at first, his hands loosening around your wrists, being as careful with you as he was this morning when he wiped away your tears. But you want more. 

Pressing your lips against his with more vigour, your legs wrap around his waist to pull his pelvis closer to yours. A grunt leaves Mingyu’s lips, he takes this action as a signal to kiss you more passionately. His tongue laps against yours, his hands lifting you so you’re both upright. 

“Mingyu,” you whimper, feeling the wet open-mouthed kisses he begins to press against your neck. 

Before you can get any further, a cat meows beneath the two of you, his head turned in confusion. You pull away from him first, staring at your menacing cat, Fucking Norbert, you curse him out in your head before hopping off the counter and dusting yourself off. 

“I’m gonna go shower, then we can go back to making the pancakes,” you smile awkwardly up at Mingyu. 

“Oh okay, me too, yeah.” He scratches the back of his head. 

Before you head to the washroom in your room you turn around once more and give Mingyu a quick peck on the lips. His arms wrap around your waist, trying to deepen the kiss once more. But you stop him before he can go any further, laughing at how needy he has gotten. 

“Let’s do that more often,” you giggle before running off to the washroom. 

Mingyu sighs with content, his cheeks rosy from your flirting. With you gone, he sticks his tongue at Norbert in frustration. What a cockblock, he says to himself in his head. Norbert meows in response before walking back to his spot on the couch. 

No one’s ever made Mingyu feel the way you just did. At that moment he realized how fucked he is, you’re only here with him for the next eleven months, then what? Do you two go on with your lives separately? And you two are supposed to just forget everything? The more he thinks about it, the more determined he is to stay. The more determined he becomes to make you his and to give you the life you deserve. 

The love you deserve. 

nine. 

“Afternoon, Jun!” you wave from the porch as you see his car approaching your driveway, his windows down, hair flowing through the wind. 

He looks so carefree despite how important his job is, and it makes you a little envious of his lighthearted personality. He must have a happy life out of work because you swear no one is this lax with a job like his. 

“Good afternoon to you too, Y/n,” he gives you a big smile, his little satchel wrapped around him as he makes his way over to you. 

It’s been about a week since Jun has been patrolling the nieghbourhood, and Seungkwan’s asked a few questions about the cute but odd guy frequenting your house. The quickest lie that you could come up with was that he’s your best friend visiting from the city. You told him that he works at the home office and that he comes over from time to time to work on another project with you. 

After that day, Seungkwan stopped asking so many questions, leaving you alone to sit and read with Vernon on their porch.

“Do you want to have lunch with me and Mingyu?” you ask him. “He made enough that I know we would have leftovers otherwise.” 

“My wife packs my lunch actually and she doesn’t like it when I come home with a full container.” He shrugs, taking out the cutely wrapped rilakkuma bento box from his satchel. 

“What! That’s so cute, I bet you love her lunch boxes,” you giggle, marveling at how much care his wife had gone into packing him food for the day. 

He rubs the back of his neck as he lets out a bashful laugh, his cheeks turning red at the mention of his wife. 

“Well she’s the only one whose food tastes exactly like my mom’s, maybe I’ll bring her around so you can meet her!” Jun’s eyes shine as he talks about his wife, obviously, head over heels for her. 

You find it endearing how much his demeanor changes from silly Jun to an in-love Jun. The tight feeling in your chest doesn’t subside as you watch how he goes on about her, and their cats Open, Close, and Lock. It makes you wonder if anyone would talk about you that way, even when you’re not there, or when it’s not some lie to tell to your neighbours and their friends.  

“That’s so sweet Jun, what’s her name?” you ask, wondering if you could make a new friend out of her too. 

“June!” he replies, his smile as bright as the afternoon sun. 

“Her name is also June?” you try to get more clarification on her name. 

As if Jun himself couldn’t get any weirder, he has three cats named Open, Close, and Lock, as well as a wife with the same name as him. You try to process all this information but you feel like it’s too early in the day to be thinking so hard. 

“Yeah! I’m Jun without an E and she’s June with an E,” he answers proudly. 

You leave the Jun lore for another time, instead asking him about other things going on in his life. He’s not as bad as you thought he would be, and you find that he’s actually very fun to talk to. Jun’s actions are always so animated, using his hands a lot while he’s talking. It seems like you’ve made another friend yet again. 

As you two make your way to the kitchen, Mingyu can hear your laughter ring through his ears. Two sets of footsteps make their way over to him, he knows Jun is just here because it’s his job but can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. 

“Hey Jun,” Mingyu greets him flatly, not really into the fact that he’s the reason his wife is laughing so hard right now. 

He has no right to feel jealous but he can’t help it, especially after the kiss you two shared the other day. The two of you haven’t gotten that intimate since that kiss in the kitchen and even though he wants it to happen again, it has to be on your terms. Even though he craves you with each waking hour, he wants to make sure he isn’t overstepping any boundaries. 

“Jun is going to eat with us for lunch, is that okay?” You go up to him, placing a hand on his bicep before giving it a squeeze.

Mingyu’s cheeks flush at your small gesture of affection, his eyes moving from where your hand is placed to your eyes. Looking up at him with doe eyes, you smile at him. Even though he doesn’t like the idea of you and Jun laughing together, he could never say no to you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he returns your smile and you whisper a small thank you before placing a kiss on his cheek, walking away to watch T.V. with Jun on the couch. 

He stands at the stove, a pan of grilled chicken to pair with your salads. A hand comes up to touch the cheek that you kissed, he smiles to himself as he continues to cook lunch for you two. 

It seems as though every day he spends with you, the harder he’s falling. He can’t help it, especially when you’re much more affectionate with him now. 

He fantasizes about the day you decide to no longer sleep in separate rooms across the hall from each other, and getting to wake up to you and your beautiful face every morning.  He watches you laugh with Jun in the living room and silently wishes that you’ll fall as hard as he has.

ten.

With every passing day, the more you worry about Seungcheol’s whereabouts. You’re safe here, and people are looking over you but you can’t help but be paranoid. You wonder if you’re going to have to live every day in fear. But thankfully, with Mingyu beside you, it becomes a little more bearable. 

It wasn’t until today that you realized that you could finally breathe right. You awoke to another call from Jihoon, who seems to only call about important matters early in the morning. He suggests that you get Mingyu, wanting both of you to be on the call. 

Your mind is spiraling. The last time Jihoon called he had given you bad news. 

“What’s wrong Jihoon?” you ask him apprehensively, not sure if you’re mentally prepared to hear what he has to say. 

Both you and Mingyu sat on the couch with bated breaths, waiting for him to say something. Anything. Mingyu has an arm around you, your legs on top of his as he holds you close. He didn’t even have to say anything, his silence was enough to indicate how nervous he was. 

“Guys, don’t be so nervous, now I’m getting nervous!” he sighs. 

“I can’t take this, just say it already, you’re killing me over here Ji,” Mingyu whines, squeezing you a little tighter to soothe his nerves. 

“Well, we found him. Jun was able to put him in custody and he’s been at the station for a couple of hours now,” he finally reveals, hearing the two of you squeal like a bunch of school girls over the speakers. “I know you don’t want to see him Y/n, but if you want you can come down and talk to him. Closure and shit.” 

Mingyu looks over at you the moment Jihoon mentions you visiting your ex, and he can practically see the gears turning in your head. To be honest, you’re not sure if you’re ready to face him, but a part of you is curious about what he’s like now. 

“Okay, I’ll visit him, but only if Mingyu comes with me,” you mutter, playing with the hem of Mingyu’s shirt absentmindedly. 

You think of all the scenarios that could play out the moment you meet with Seungcheol again, but you know that if you want to shed the rest of your old self. You need to finally face him and gain the closure you deserve. 

And the closure that Seungcheol deserves too. 

…

For the rest of the day, you and Mingyu have a little self-care night before your confrontation with Seungcheol. Your nerves are at an all-time high, even Norbert could tell you were anxious; constantly staying by your side, even when you were showering, working, or eating. 

You weren’t sure what you were going to say to Seungcheol when you see him, or how you’re going to even feel. It’s been years since you’ve faced him, you just know that if Mingyu is there everything will be alright. 

For some reason, Mingyu’s presence always calms you down. His comforting words and strong demeanor help you stay afloat in your deep sea of worries. Just like Norbert, you don’t think he realizes these past few months with him have helped you overcome a lot of your paranoia. The more you got to know him, the more you recognized how soft and loving he really is, despite his past. 

“You have to stay still, okay?” you mumble as you continue to slather the face mask all over Mingyu’s skin. 

Sat on top of the bathroom counter, Mingyu stood between your legs as you concentrated on the task at hand. His own hands placed on the tops of your thighs as he waited patiently for you to finish. 

When he proposed a self-care night, you didn’t think he’d agree to go as far as doing skin care with you. Obviously, you were very wrong, and it kind of warms your heart that he’s willing to do even something as silly as this and then watch Bluey with you on the couch. 

“Y/n, it tickles,” he whines, hands gripping harder on your thighs as he fights the urge to laugh. 

“Do not laugh! You’ll ruin it,” you try not to giggle, your own face mask starting to crack. 

“Okay, sorry but you look so silly right now,” he chuckles, his eyes trained on you. 

Even with your hair tied up and a fluffy bunny-ear face wash headband, he still finds you beautiful. It doesn't matter to him what you look like, just the fact that you’re here, with him, it’s all he needs to be happy. 

“Done!” you flash a proud smile before hopping off the counter. 

Before you can leave the bathroom, Mingyu grabs your wrist and turns you around till you're flush with his chest. You raise an eyebrow at him, unsure of what he’s plotting right now. Instead of saying anything more he just places a peck on your lips before whispering a small “thank you”, letting you two carry on with your night. 

You just laugh and shake your head at him before heading over to the couch to watch more episodes of Bluey. Norbert claims his rightful spot beside you while Mingyu sits on your other side. 

Tomorrow may be scary and you have a lot of thoughts running through your head, but spending the night peacefully with Mingyu and Norbert silences your worries enough to relax in the meantime. What you don’t expect is the constant thought of wondering if this is what your life would be like every day if you decide to stay in Bridgewater after the year is over. 

eleven.

The car ride to the police station is quiet. Mingyu’s hand is in yours as he tries to console your overthinking. There isn’t much he can say to help you at this moment, but the least he can do is show you that he’s here. He doesn’t want to say anything that could potentially overwhelm you, he just wants to show you how much he cares. 

By the time the car reaches the station, your palms are drenched in sweat, but you want to stay strong. You want Seungcheol to know how happy you are now, without him. You want him to see how different you are now after all these years, how you’re better off without his tainted love. 

“Y/n, Mingyu,” Jihoon greets you at the door, nodding to you. 

The ever so stoic Jihoon. He’s a man of very few words but you could tell that he was rooting for you. 

The walk over to where Seungcheol was being interrogated felt longer than normal, but in reality, it only took a few seconds to reach the door. Jihoon gives you a look before opening the door, one that’s silently asking you if you’re sure. You only nod with a determined gleam in your eyes, allowing him to unlock the door and letting you see your ex after so many years. 

His black hair looks the same it did all that time ago, except it was longer now and a little messy from him running his fingers through it. You could tell he was exhausted, and it broke your heart a little. 

There are feelings of anger resurfacing the moment your eyes lock with his, but also feelings of sorrow and pity. You’re reminded of all the memories you made with him, the happiness, the sadness, and the solace in between. But you grieved the loss of your love with him a long time ago, and even though there are fragments of those feelings now, it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. 

“Y/n,” Seungcheol’s voice cracks upon seeing you. 

Your chest burns and it feels like all the air in your lungs has dissipated. There’s a dullness to his gaze, almost like he’s a mere shell of the person he used to be. You should’ve known that Seungcheol lost his soul all those years ago when he decided to sell it for never-ending wealth. But here he is, in front of you: defeated, tired, heartbroken. There’s a small part of you that will always care for him, yet you know that you’ll never love him the way you used to. 

“Cheol,” you whisper, your back against the door, your body not wanting to get any closer to him than you have to.

“Y/n, please I never wanted us to end up this way, please. Please,” he tries to beg, to stand up, but his hands are handcuffed to the table. His wrists have turned red from trying to escape from his chains. It’s no use, he won’t ever be able to get as close as he is now. 

A single tear falls from your eyes watching his desperate attempts to reach you. But the room feels far too big now like the two of you are miles apart. So you stay put and tell him what you’ve been wanting to say after so many years.

“You dug your own grave, Seungcheol. I tried, I did. But how could you keep all that information from me? Selling illegal weapons may be one thing, but involving all those innocent people? Did you lose your damn mind? I couldn’t live with myself knowing how many people you hurt. Then you turned to drug trafficking? Did you really think I could marry someone like that?” you raise your voice at the end. 

Your chest is heaving from not taking a single breath to stop, to think, just saying whatever your heart is telling you to say. 

“Y/n, please! Hear me out, I want to make it work-” he begs and begs, but you cut him off.  

“There’s nothing to work out.”  

“I just wanted to have a secure future with you, I was going to quit after our wedding, please you have to believe me,” he keeps going, but you don’t want to hear it anymore. 

You scoff at his attempt to justify his actions, but you know better. The man in front of you will say anything to get you back into his life, but you don’t buy his bullshit. The more money he earned, the greedier he got, and the higher his ambitions got, he wasn't the man he was when you first met him. The constant reminder of him leading a dark path keeps you grounded. 

“You lost me the moment you decided to hurt people who don’t deserve it.” Your voice is stern, you don’t want to continue to drag this out knowing all he’s going to do is plead for you to come back to him. 

“Y/n please, I can’t live without you, even after all these years, I can’t sleep, nothing. I need you.” The tears begin to leave his eyes, but you do your best to stay strong. 

All you can do is shake your head at him, his words going through one ear and out the other. His sobs and pleading shake you to your core, but it doesn’t hurt to hear after knowing all the evil things he’s done. 

“But I don’t need you, I’m happy, I’m in love again. I have friends that care about me,” you countered.

 You're breathing heavily, trying to stay as calm as possible. You had no more tears left to shed for him. 

“It’s Mingyu isn’t it?” he asks, but you don’t give him any indication that his prediction is correct. 

Your heartbeat picks up at the mention of Mingyu’s name, and you’re not sure how Seungcheol found out about the two of you. At this point you don’t even care, because the happiness you deserve is waiting for you outside the very door you stand against. No one will get in the way of the reason why you’re able to breathe right again, especially not Seungcheol.

“That doesn't matter,” you defended, not wanting to speak to him for any longer. 

“But it does. Just tell me it’s not Mingyu, anyone but him please,” he continues to cry, the rattling of his handcuffs burning your eardrums. 

You’ve gotten your closure, the figurative shackles that Seungcheol had you in are finally broken. There’s a sense of relief to being able to face him without completely breaking down. Your heart no longer belongs to him, and neither do your fearful thoughts. 

“I don’t owe you anything anymore Seungcheol. Goodbye.” You end the conversation, turning around to close the door without looking back. 

His pleading can be heard through the metal, but you don’t dare turn back, you don’t dare to let him have his hold on you anymore. Closing the door of the interrogation room felt like closing the door to a chapter of life. And finally, after everything that has happened, you feel free. 

“You’re in love with me?” Mingyu’s voice is heard through all the commotion. 

He stands there with a hopeful look in his eyes, a small smile dancing along his lips. You roll your eyes at him as if it wasn’t already obvious how much you care for your fake husband. 

Walking up to him, you engulf him in a tight hug, your head buried in his chest as tears of relief leave your eyes. 

“Of course I’m in love with you, you big idiot,” you laugh, holding him tighter, so tight that you’re sure that he’ll never leave your side, even if he wanted to. 

twelve. 

The drive back to the house felt like a breath of fresh air. Wind blowing through your hair with the windows rolled down, Mingyu’s hand on your thigh, music blasting through the speakers. It felt like freedom. 

“Can I hear you say it again?” Mingyu turns to you while he’s stopped at a red light, his puppy-dog eyes are too cute to resist. 

“I love you,” you smile at him, placing your hand on top of his. 

The glistening in his eyes looked like it came straight out of a movie, they glittered in the sunlight, a reflection of his very being. 

“I love you too, did you know that?” he blushes, giving you a sweet kiss before returning his attention to the road. 

The two of you stay quiet for the rest of that way back, savouring the sweet moment. You still can’t wrap your head around everything that has happened during your stay at Bridgewater, especially because you’ve somehow found love again. A love that’s sweet, one that doesn’t feel as worrisome. 

“Home sweet home!” Mingyu announces the moment the car rolls into the driveway. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts and Mingyu gets out to open the door for you. The second the door closes he cages you between him and the side of the car. His lips softly hit yours and you moan out of surprise. The kiss is slow and sweet, and butterflies erupt in your stomach immediately. 

You haven’t kissed him properly since that day in the kitchen but you don’t mind the wait. If anything it causes you to feel hungry for more. Mingyu’s hands on your waist are pulling you tighter with each passing second, but making out in the middle of your driveway, where everyone in the neighbourhood can see, pulls you out of your lustful thoughts. 

“Let’s go inside?” You detach your lips from his, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him towards the front door. 

Once you two are inside, without any potential prying eyes you pull him back into a kiss. It’s sloppy and filled with more passion than the previous times you two were this close. You don’t want to stop feeling him against you. The firm grip he has on your waist travels under your shirt, his hands against your bare skin leaving a burning sensation in the best way. 

There’s a silent agreement between the two of you. You both know where this is heading but no one stops to take a break, to tell the other that it is time to let go. You continue to deepen the kiss, letting your tongue glide against his, your fingers running through his hair. It's addicting, Mingyu’s lips are intoxicating and all you want is to get lost in the arousal. 

“I wanna make you feel good, so good till all you can remember is me, no one else,” Mingyu mumbles against your neck, his lips trailing lower as you whimper in approval. “Tell me, is that what you want?” 

“Yes,” you whimper, eyes closed as you feel him lick and suck the skin on your collarbone.  

Backing away, you can see how the love and adoration in his eyes are tainted with hunger. The sight of him makes your stomach flip, there’s a darkness to his gaze and you gulp silently. Waiting for him to show you how badly he wants to fuck you, how badly he needs to see you whimper and moan for him. 

Without another word you bring him to your room, closing the door behind you so Norbert can’t interrupt like he did last time. 

The door is against your back once again and Mingyu towers over you, caging you with his body. His scent fills your senses, your knees going weak as he continues to stare at you with those hooded lids, his attention on you and you only. 

His hand trails against your jaw till he stops at your chin, tilting your face up so that your eyes are leveled with his. He licks his lips as he watches you, wanting nothing but to take you then and there. But he has so much planned, he can’t get too hasty, especially because the thought of you cumming for him over and over continues to plague his mind. 

“I want you to sit on the bed, and to be a good girl and take what I give you,” Mingyu mutters, his hand moving closer to your lips till his thumb pulls your bottom lip down. 

You don’t argue, moving away once again to do what he says. This is the Mingyu you used to know. The one who spent half his life in the mafia, the one who could command a whole room with a single word. 

Following behind you, he waits till you get comfortable on the bed before sitting down between your already spread legs. He captures you into a kiss once more, letting himself savour the taste of you. Your hands move across the expanse of his back, slowly lifting his shirt along the way and feeling his large muscles tense under your gentle fingers. 

“Fuck me, please,” you beg him, and your voice is strained, the words leaving your mouth in whimpers. 

Mingyu chuckles at your desperation as he removes the rest of his clothing, but your mind is buzzing like crazy. It’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with someone that you forgot how good it feels to be held, to be kissed. 

“Be patient baby, we’ll get to that eventually,” he grunts, lifting your shirt and removing the remainder of your clothes till you're bare. 

Marveling at your naked figure, Mingyu forces himself to stop drooling over how sexy you look in front of him. You’re so small compared to him, his large hands opening up your thighs to reveal your awaiting arousal. 

“You’re already fucking soaking,” he mutters as he prods with your folds. His fingers move gingerly as he teases you. 

His arms push your thighs till they’re flush with your stomach, giving him clear access to where you need him most. Trailing kisses along your inner thighs, your head hits the pillow as you moan out for him. You’re over-sensitive from not being touched by another person in so long, his lips leaving burning sensations on your skin. 

Your pussy is dripping on the sheets the moment he presses a kiss to your clit. Clenching around nothing, you continue to moan out his name, and it makes him smile against you. Hearing you call out for him is like music to his ears, your voice sweet like honey. 

“Keep doing that, please Mingyu,” you whine, your hands coiling around the strands of his hair, nails raking his scalp. 

Groaning against your mound, he continues to play with your clit. Licking and sucking it while his fingers enter your weeping hole. The sounds of his long digits moving in and out of you fill the room, and you can feel yourself getting closer to an orgasm. 

“Fuck, it’s so good,” you praise him, and it strokes his ego, his movements picking up in pace. 

The squelching noises only increase in volume, his fingers hitting that soft spot inside you that makes your legs shake and your vision goes white. Practically screaming his name, the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum against his mouth. His tongue moved against your slit to drink up your juices, wanting to feel you fill his mouth with your sweet nectar. 

His eyes remain trained on yours while he’s lying between your legs, you run your hands through his hair as you come down from your high. The words can’t seem to leave your lips and your mind is filled with euphoria. If he can do all that with just his mouth and fingers you wonder what will happen when he’s finally inside you. 

“God, you’re so needy. Probably haven’t been fucked properly in so long, huh baby?” he coos as he moves up your body, lips against your ear as he continues to mutter dirty words. 

“Need someone to take care of you? Is that what you need? Need your husband to fuck a baby into you,” he keeps going and your eyes roll back and he fondles your tits. 

“Yeah, you like that?” he chuckles, twisting at your hardened nipples as your pussy clenches at the thought of being filled with his cum. 

“You like it when I talk about fucking you till that tight little cunt of yours is stuffed full of my cum?” Mingyu’s mouth continues to spew words of breeding you, and his growing erection is harder to ignore. 

“I want it so bad, want you to fuck a baby in me, Gyu,” you sigh, your salacious moans bouncing off the walls as he flips you around. 

Ass in the air, he gives the supple skin a sharp slap and you shriek. But it feels so good, the sting of his large palm hitting you hard. He can see how much you’re enjoying it, kneading your full mounds as his head fills with thoughts of fucking you in this position. 

“Please just fuck me already, I wanna feel you inside me.” You’re weeping now, face smushed into the pillow. 

“You sure you’re ready?” he asks you, pulling you by your hips till your back is arched. 

The neediness inside you is at its highest point, and you can’t seem to form any words as you feel his fingers glide against your soaked hole. Moans can’t stop leaving your lips and you’re already sensitive from your first orgasm. 

Placing a pillow under your stomach, he continues to manhandle you into the position he wants you in. Face down, ass up, your legs are spread, and your wet entrance is all ready for him.  Mingyu grabs his hard cock, stroking it a few times before spitting on your cunt, and you jolt at the hot liquid hitting your folds. 

“Fuck, you’re tight, I should’ve prepped you more,” Mingyu groans, his length slowly forcing its way past your entrance. 

The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel him starting to fill you. The stretch is agonizing but the burn sends tingles of pleasure up your spine. It felt so fucking good having him inside you like this, your mind full of nothing but the shape of his cock. 

“I want it hard, fuck me hard,” you tell him, your voice shaking as he continues to enter you. 

“Okay baby, but just know I won’t be gentle anymore,” he warns you and maybe you shouldn’t have been so eager, but that primal part in you just wanted him so bad. 

Once he has himself fully sheathed in your heat, he pulls back until only the tip is left. You gasp at the sudden empty feeling, but you're quickly silenced when he dives back in. His hips slapping against your ass, his balls hitting your clit. Mingyu’s stamina is insanely high as he continues to thrust in and out of you. 

“Fuck, you’re so big, I-I can’t!” you cry out, your screams picking up in pitch till you're moaning like a porn star. 

“So fucking tight, baby you’re driving me crazy,” Mingyu continues to grunt, his movements not slowing down for even a second. 

His hands move to grip your hips tightly, he stops for a split second to stop his thrusts. You thought you were going to be able to catch your breath. But he just keeps surprising you. The hands that he placed on your hips tighten and he moves you up and down on his cock while he stays still. Using you like his personal sex doll, but fuck, it felt amazing. You love that he’s using you, placing your body in whatever position he wants to chase his own pleasure. 

“You’re so perfect, I could fuck this pussy till I’m empty,” he mutters, watching his dick disappear inside you. 

There's a white ring of arousal around the base of his length, and his mind goes blank. All he can do is continue to bounce you up and down his member till he can feel himself start to twitch inside you. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby you feel so good inside me,” you scream for him, loving the way the ridges of your walls continue to suck him up, your orgasm hitting you once again,

There's something so nasty about him using your body, and you’re enjoying all of it. You love how he’s just taking what he wants, yet he still knows how to make you cum. Your pussy is swollen from the beating it’s taking, but you want more. You want him to keep going till he has nothing left to give you. 

The feeling of Mingyu twitching inside your walls indicates that he’s close, and you continue to clench around him. Wanting to milk him of his seed, wanting to feel his cum hit your cervix and breed you. 

“Gonna cum inside you, okay baby?” he warns you before stilling his movements. 

His cock twitches again till you feel his hot white cum spurt inside your walls, flooding your cunt with his seed. Mingyu groans, watching the liquid fill you and breach past your tight hole till it gushes out. The sight is so unholy, so sinful but he can’t just stop there. No, he won’t stop till you’re stuffed properly. 

“M-mingyu, baby,” you whine, your body flopping onto the mattress as he lets you go. 

Your legs turn to jelly as you shake from how hard you came, your breathing labored. He turns you around so you're splayed out for him, prying your legs open to watch his cum fall out of your pussy in thick globs. It’s so mesmerizing, hypnotizing, he wants to see more of it. To fill you with more of his seed. 

“We’re not done,” he smiles as you cheekily and you laugh. 

“You want more after all of that?” you question him, your breathing still harsh from the previous round. 

“Baby, after all of that, I don’t think I can stop,” he mutters against your lips, and you nod, agreeing with his statement. 

He switches your positions, his back against the headboard while you sit on his lap. The refractory period doesn't seem to exist with Mingyu because his erection is standing proudly in front of you. 

“You wanna go again?” he asks you, one hand on your hip as the other rubs his cock as it glistens with a mixture of both of your arousals. 

“I want you to use me till you can’t anymore,” you lean over, whispering in his ear. 

“Careful, you might regret that later,” he mutters, a hand around your neck as he halts your movements.

Pulling him into a heated kiss, you position his length against your entrance, lifting your body till you can fully sink down on him. Even after the first round, your pussy still can’t get used to the stretch that his cock gives you. It's a delicious feeling, his length is so long and thick you can feel it in your stomach. 

“Ah!” you cry out, your head thrown back as you stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders. 

Mingyu moans back, mesmerized by the view of your tits bouncing up and down in front of his face. His cock disappeared inside you once more, the sight making him feral, hungry to see you filled to the brim with his semen. 

Your orgasm comes around faster this time and your walls convulse around him once more. The heat, the wetness, the silky feeling of your cunt makes Mingyu go delirious, thoughts only filled with you and you only. Stilling your hips, his own high follows yours shortly after, his cum hitting your insides till it covers his softening member all over again. 

You let out a puff of breath, leaning into his chest as your face rested in the crook of his neck. Mingyu rubs your back soothingly, his dick going soft and falling out of your entrance. Whimpering at the loss of him being inside you, you hold him tighter. The feelings of exhaustion are finally catching up to you, but you know you’ll have to clean up soon enough. 

“You know I love you, right?” he reminds you as he lifts you up and off the bed to head to the shower. You can only nod, your mind and body too tired to respond. 

Setting you on the counter, his back turns away from you while he prepares your bath, getting the water warm for you. You notice the large dragon tattoo that coils along his skin. It surprises you that you haven’t noticed it before, but the black ink on him is undeniably sexy. 

Once the water is warm enough, he carries you to the shower before cleaning you up properly. You love that he’s back to his soft and kind self, and it makes you fall for him even harder. The hard sex was so good but what’s important to you is the fact that he’s so keen on taking care of you after. 

Mingyu’s hand snakes around your waist as your head lays against his shoulder, pressing lazy kisses while you whisper words of gratitude. 

“Thank you, I love you too,” you mumble, adorning him with pecks along his warm tan skin. 

epilogue. 

“This whole fucking time,” Seungkwan stares at you with wide eyes, “I fucking KNEW it.” 

You scoff at him, he just had to be right about everything and it annoys you, but here you are again, in his home for drinks and dessert. 

“Sure you did, Kwannie,” you sigh, patting his shoulder. 

“I swear I did! Right, babe? They were suspicious from the start,” he continues to argue, roping in Vernon who gives him a shrug of his shoulders before returning his attention to his phone. 

It was time for you and Mingyu to break the news about your fake relationship with everyone. You felt bad for deceiving people, and now that you two were actually in love, it just felt right to put the fake marriage thing in the past. 

“Please, we weren’t that obvious,” you defend, not wanting to give Seungkwan the bragging rights to actually be right this whole time. 

Seungkwan just rolls his eyes at you before taking a sip of his wine. He didn’t feel like arguing with you anymore, he’s just happy that his suspicions have been correct this whole time. 

“Does this mean you’re going to leave soon?” He looks at you with desperate eyes, taking your hands in his. 

“Well, we’ve talked about it, and Mingyu and I have decided to stay,” you smile at him from where he sits across the room, talking about something unimportant with Jeonghan and Val. “So don’t worry, I’ll still be your neighbour. Bridgewater actually seems like the perfect place for us right now.” 

“Oh thank god! I don’t think I could live happily ever again if you moved away, Y/nie.” He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but laugh at his dramatics. 

Seungkwan may have started as a pestering neighbour, but you can’t help but feel grateful towards him. If it weren’t for his annoying attitude, you and Mingyu probably wouldn’t have tried so hard to pretend to be in love. You could say that Seungkwan was one the biggest reasons why you and Mingyu fell so hard for each other in the first place. 

…

A few days after solidifying your relationship with Mingyu, you two decided that it wouldn’t be too bad to stay here after all. Seungcheol was sentenced guilty during trial and Jihoon informed you that there's no more reason for you to be put into witness protection. Everything just seemed like it was all falling into place, and you’re happier than you have been in so long. 

Even Norbert has finally warmed up to Mingyu. Sometimes when your work day is over, you’ll spot them cuddling on the couch and watching Bluey together. He always talks to Norbert, asking him questions even though the cat can’t answer. It warms your heart knowing that the two beings that healed you from a world’s worth of hurt can get along. They both came into your life when you needed it most, and every day you're thankful that you’re surrounded by so much love. 

“Watching Bluey without me?” you ask out loud, your arms crossed as you pretend to be mad. 

“Baby! You’re done!” Mingyu practically flies off the couch to capture you in a bone-crushing hug. 

“You know you can come into my office when I’m working,” you laugh as you rub his back, savouring the feeling of his large and muscular arms holding you. 

“I know but I don’t want to distract you, even Norbert doesn't go in,” he mumbles, inhaling your scent as if he didn’t wake up beside you that very morning. 

“You’re silly, Mingyu,” you laugh, kissing his cheek. 

He blushes like a schoolgirl before giving you the biggest grin known to man. His eyes sparkling against the living room lighting, you can tell he’s head over heels for you. Mingyu isn’t afraid to show affection or to be vulnerable, he just wants to be with you, no matter how good or bad things get. 

“Can’t I just be happy my wife is off work?” He sighs lovingly, brushing your hair through his fingers, refusing to let you go. 

You roll your eyes at how cheesy he is, but he knows that you secretly love it. Especially since you act the same way with him whenever he goes out to run errands or when he tends to the garden. 

“Your wife is hungry and tired, can we make more kimchi pancakes please?” you ask with puppy dog eyes. 

Mingyu laughs at you before kissing your forehead, “Anything for the love of my life.” 

Blushing at his words, you follow him into the kitchen to make the kimchi pancakes you had asked for. Putting on his pink ruffle apron, he gets down to business, always wanting to cook the best food for you. 

Mingyu is satisfied knowing that he’s able to give you the life that you deserve. To love you on sunny days and even on rainy days. He’s never felt a love that was this secure, and he’s grateful that you feel the same way. 

As you watch Mingyu cook, you think back to the first day you moved to Bridgewater. You misjudged him that first day and you’re so glad that he proved you wrong. He has been nothing but amazing since then. He’s patient, and kind, and he loves you even when you’re irritated or in a bad mood. For someone who used to be a part of the mafia, you would expect him to be rough around the edges, and intimidating, but he’s the complete opposite. He’s the perfect house husband. 

end. 

𖥔 a/n: you've reached the end of my hubbygyu fic! thank you for reading and please leave an ask or comment if you've enjoyed this story :)! but wait... there's more! this story will become a series that takes inspiration from the anime ( the way of the house husband) so please look forward to seeing more of wifey y/n and hubby gyu! thank you again ♡.

[hoshifighting]

NERD!WOOZI WITH SLUTTY FINGERING

a/n: i KNOW ive talked about woozi hands, woozi fingering, too much already in this blog, so, nerd!woozi its just another excuse for me to write about it again. sorry not sorry. a/n pt.2: yes, this is woozi's hand on minghao's neck that's why im screaming in the title. WARNINGS: smut, small angst, fingering, body fluids (cum spit), clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, intense orgasm, teasing, quick learner!jihoon

nerd!jihoon who’s all serene and timid, always too focused on his notes, pretending he doesn’t notice your little games, but deep down, he’s fully aware. you catch him sometimes, the way his pencil pauses mid-scribble when you lean a little too close, asking for the same damn pencil again. he knows you have like five pencils in that full-of-charms bag of yours, regardless here you are.

“you sure you don’t just wanna keep it?” he mumbles, barely looking up as he hands you the pencil.

you lean forward, letting your hair fall in front of your face like a curtain, just to see if he’d peek. and, of course, he does. a quick flick of his eyes, then back down to his notebook, scribbling some bullshit about physics or whatever. boring. you wonder what’d happen if you just grabbed his hand for real this time, full contact, no pencil-between-you nonsense. would he pull away? would he get all flustered, or would he grab you back, finally drop that innocent act?

“you ever gonna look at me when i ask you for something, or you too shy for that?” you tease, leaning on his desk now, your fingers inching closer to his ruler. he finally looks up at you, a little more serious than usual, and it catches you off guard.

“you keep asking for things you don’t need,” he says quietly, “why?” he scoffs, pushing his glasses up his nose like that’s gonna hide the faint flush creeping up his neck. “you can keep the damn pencil,” he mutters, eyes glued to the textbook in front of him.

and nerd!jihoon who gets so in his head about it that he doesn’t realize the moment he fucked up. ‘cause when you stand up from your chair, reaching down to grab something you “accidentally” dropped, you do it slow. bending over right in front of him, just enough that your skirt rides up a little too high, giving him a full view.

he stares for just a second too long, eyes glued to the hem of your skirt, swallowing hard like he’s trying not to make a sound. but it’s obvious, way too obvious, and when he realizes he’s been caught, his face turns red so fast you almost laugh out loud.

nerd!jihoon who's fidgeting now, trying to pretend he didn’t just eye-fuck you in the middle of the classroom.

but nerd!jihoon’s only got so much self-control, and you’re testing every bit of it.

nerd!jihoon who, for some reason, snaps at you that morning when you meet at the stairs outside the university building. it’s out of nowhere too—like, one second, you’re just giving him that casual little smile, ready to toss some flirty comment about the weather being as cold as his attitude, and the next, he’s all huffy, eyebrows furrowing deeper than usual.

“why do you keep doing that?” his voice comes out sharp, way too sharp for someone like him, the type who rarely even speaks above a whisper in class. you blink, taken aback, half-wondering if he’s joking, but when you see his jaw tighten, you realize he’s serious. dead serious. “is it that hard to leave me alone?”

ouch. you don’t even know how to react at first, like his words take a second to settle in, but when they do, it feels like someone knocked the air out of you. your eyes harden on him, and for once, you don’t have some quick retort. you just… stare. really?—he’s just gonna blow up like that?

“fine,” you mutter, voice cold as ice. and with that, you turn on your heel and walk off without another word, you don’t even look back as you head straight to the classroom, your heart pounding in your chest. you’ve never felt this weird compound of pissed and hurt before. it’s like something just snapped inside you too.

for the rest of the day, you don’t bother glancing in his direction. you gather your stuff at the end of class, all in silence, and when you make your way past his desk, you stop for just a second, pulling out all those borrowed pencils from your bag. without a word, you set them on his desk, one by one. they clatter onto his notes, each one feeling like a small “fuck you�� in its own way.

jihoon doesn’t say anything, just stares at the pencils like they’re mocking him. he opens his mouth for a split second, like maybe he’s gonna explain, but nothing comes out. you don’t give him the chance either; you walk away, not bothering to look back. it’s like every interaction you’ve ever had just gets replayed in your mind, and now it’s all soured.

the next few days are weird. hell, you stop talking to him altogether. instead, you sit at your desk, quietly pulling out your own damn pencils from your pencil case, you don’t need his anymore, not when he’s gonna act like a complete ass about it. he watches you though—you can feel his stare on you, burning into the side of your head. but every time you glance in his direction, he looks away like he can’t deal with the awkwardness he’s caused.

it’s like he wants to apologize but has no idea how to start. typical jihoon—all brain and no clue when it comes to real people.

but one evening, there’s a knock on your dorm door. you open it, and there he is, standing there with a six-pack of those canned drinks you always get from the campus canteen, the same ones you always grab right after class. his face is red, cheeks flushed in a way that’s almost… cute? but you’re still mad, still remembering how he snapped at you like that.

“hey,” he says, and his voice is softer this time, merely audible. you just stand there, arms crossed, waiting for him to explain himself.

“i, uh… i brought these,” he mutters, holding the cans out like some awkward peace offering. “i noticed you… always get these. thought maybe…” his voice trails off, and he rubs the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “i’m sorry. for what i said.”

you raise an eyebrow, still not convinced. “really? you were a complete jerk, jihoon.”

he shrinks at your words, nodding. “i know. i just… i didn’t know how to deal with it, okay? it… messed with me.”

you uncross your arms, softening just a bit. “and snapping at me was your way of handling it?”

he sighs, looking down at his shoes. “i didn’t mean it. i was just frustrated. not at you—just… at myself.”

you take a deep breath, glancing at the cans in his hands, the little effort he’s put into making amends. he’s trying. “fine,” you say finally, stepping aside to let him in. “you owe me more than just drinks, though.”

jihoon’s eyes widen a bit, his lips twitching into that familiar nervous smile. “what do you want, then?”

you scoff.

nerd!jihoon who feels the faint taste of the drink lingers on your tongue, and he groans into your mouth, probably addicted to it more than he’ll admit. he’s kissing you back—messy, needy, and a little clumsy, but you can tell he’s losing himself in it.

you shift on his lap, straddling him properly, and when you press into him, his breath hitches. it’s like he can’t keep himself together, every kiss pulling out little sounds, his hands hover awkwardly for a second, like he doesn’t know what to do with them, until you grab them and guide them up your body, pushing them to your chest, making him squeeze your tits through your shirt.

nerd!jihoon who gasps when he feels the nipples on his palms through your shirt, his lips pulling away from yours for just a second as he looks at where his hands are, eyes wide like he can’t believe it. his fingers flex against you, tentatively at first, but then you press your hand over his, forcing him to squeeze harder, and you let out a shaky breath.

then? oh, he gets it.

nerd!jihoon, who finally acts, squeezing your tits by himself like he’s been waiting for this chance his whole damn life. his fingers dig in just enough to pull a moan from your throat.

nerd!jihoon’s catching on fast now, realizing where you want to be touched, where your breath catches, where your body melts into him.

his hands roam up your sides, slipping under your oversized shirt, and when his fingers brush your bare skin, he freezes for a second. he realizes you’re not wearing anything underneath, no panties, no bra, just naked under the thin fabric. “shit,” he breathes, almost like a curse, his eyes darting up to meet yours, like he’s checking to see if this is real, if you actually want him to keep going.

you smirk, biting your lip, and press your hips down into him harder, a wordless yes, keep going.

his hand cups your pussy, and the way you immediately arch into him, gasping out his name—he’s gone. brain short-circuiting, but his body’s on autopilot now. “dont do this to me…” he mewls, too focused on the way you’re grinding into his hand, wet and ready for him.

nerd!jihoon who, once he realizes how horny you are, loses any hesitation he had before. his fingers, slender and surprisingly strong, waste no time. he’s focused—so damn focused—like he’s solving a problem in his mind, but this time, the problem is you. and he knows exactly how to handle it.

nerd!jihoon who pauses for just a second, like he’s still processing how turned on you are—how his touch alone got you dripping like this. his middle finger presses right against your clit, and he flicks it side to side—fast as hell, like too fast—and your hips jerk up into him, a soft whimper slipping out. his middle finger dips into your pussy first, just enough to feel the wetness gather on his fingertip, the way you swallow around him makes his breath hitch.

it’s like he’s testing what gets you going, what makes your thighs tremble, and god, does he know how to read your body. every gasp, every time your breath hitches, he switches it up—keeps you on edge.

he presses his middle finger deep suddenly, really deep, until you’re arching into him, your body reacting instantly to the way he knows how to hit that spot. his finger curls inside you, pushing hard, making you gasp like he’s punching the air from your lungs. he’s watching you, eyes glued to the way your hips move, like he’s trying to memorize how to make you react like this again.

"hold still," he mutters, and when you don’t, when you try to squirm because it’s too much too fast, he forces your legs open with his, his thighs pressing yours apart. “don’t... close them. i need to—” his breath catches when he adds a second finger, stretching you just enough to make your pussy clench tight around him, making your thighs shake. he presses them deep, so deep you feel the pressure low in your belly, but it’s when he starts to pull them out, flicking them up against your clit as he does it, that you lose it.

“oh fuck,” you gasp, back arching, and jihoon’s watching you so damn closely, taking mental notes on every single reaction you give him.

“so... wet. why? hm?” he whispers, like he can’t believe it, his voice shy but breathy, like he’s talking more to himself than you. his fingers slide out, slick with your cum, and without even thinking, he spits right on them—mixing the spit with the dripping wetness already covering his fingers. the sound is obscene, the slick noise of him fingering you only getting louder, wetter, messier.

and then, he adjusts.

“c’mere,” he says, voice a little rougher now, guiding you to sit between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. you can feel how hard his cock is, twitching against your ass as you settle between his thighs. his legs spread yours open, holding you wide as he slides his hand back down to your dripping pussy, his fingers diving back in like they belong there.

he uses his middle finger again—always that one—sliding it in deep, he’s too focused on you, too addicted to the way you moan when he pushes his fingers deeper. his legs wrap around yours, holding them wide open, ‘cause you’re so damn close to squeezing them shut. his voice comes out soft, right in your ear. “you’re so—fuck, so into this. just my fingers?”

he can’t believe it, can’t wrap his head around how crazy you’re going just from this—even though he’s making you drip all over his hand. but it only impulses him on. his fingers flick against your clit again, fast, precise, like he’s playing an instrument he’s mastered. your body jerks, and you feel yourself clenching around nothing, cum practically coating his fingers now. he slides them deep again, harder this time, pushing you into the bed so hard your hips are practically pinned down.

“you like that?” he asks, voice shaky, but he’s so into it. holding you open like he’s afraid you’ll try to close your legs.

his fingers are everywhere—inside you, rubbing, pressing, flicking.

“fuck—jihoon,” you moan, words tumbling out of you like you can’t control them, and his breath catches again. his fingers move faster, slick sounds filling the room as he alternates between pressing deep inside you and flicking your clit, over and over again, until you’re a complete mess in his arms.

“you’re—fuck—you’re gonna make me say something stupid,” you gasp out, barely holding onto any coherent thought, and he lets out a soft, shy laugh, like he knows exactly what you mean.

nerd!jihoon who's lost in the rhythm he’s created, only pushes harder, fingers still dancing between your thighs as he chases that sound—that sweet, desperate gasp that makes his heart race. “i think i can handle it,” he teases, but he’s definitely not prepared for the way you arch your back, pushing harder against him as your breath gets quicker, sharper.

“jihoon, please,” you whimper, the words spilling out like they’re a prayer. your body is begging for something—anything—more, but he’s holding you right at the edge, fingers moving so fast you’re pretty sure your brain is short-circuiting.

he seems to realize just how close you are. he leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear, “can you—can you come for me? just from this?” there’s a softness in his voice, but the way he asks it is so demanding, and you can’t help but nod.

“yes—yes!” you manage to breathe out, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

“just let go. i got you.” it’s like the words unlock something inside you, and before you even realize it, that sweet ache intensifying.

nerd!jihoon who lets out a soft chuckle, shaky as hell, but damn if he doesn’t sound proud. his fingers don’t slow down though. his middle finger presses even deeper, practically curling up into the g'spot inside you that makes you pass out for a second, and you gasp so loud you’re sure anyone passing by your dorm would hear it.

“jihoon—fuck, right there!” you groan, and he hones in on that spot like he’s taking thoughtful reminders.

he bites his lip, watching the way your hips roll into his hand, how wet you are, cum dripping down his fingers like he’s proud of the mess you’re making. “i didn’t know you’d be… this into it,” he whispers, and that just makes your head spin more.

this guy. so shy but so fucking good at what he’s doing to you.

“jihoon, i’m gonna—oh my god!” you try to warn him, but he cuts you off.

“i know, just let go,” he encourages, voice softer now, almost reverent, as if he’s treating this moment like something sacred. his fingers slide back up to your clit

this is it. his eyes widen a little, and you can feel the way his heart races against your back. every flick against your clit sends a convulsion through your body.

you dissolve into a broken gasp, your hips moving against his hand instinctively as he works you toward that peak. please, please, just let me come.

and when he adds just a little more pressure, it’s like your whole body torches. you cum and cum, your body arching against him. “jihoon, fuck!” you cry out, a high-pitched gasp that fills the air as you feel everything shatter, your body clenching tightly around his fingers that they almost slip out.

nerd!jihoon who watches you, completely captivated, the way your body reacts, the way you’re lost in it. he doesn’t stop, though; no, he keeps moving, fingers working through your orgasm, gentle however persistent, making sure you feel every bit of that pleasure. he’s fascinated, eyes wide as he takes in the globs of cum covering his fingers, the slickness that only grows thicker the more he works you.

“jihoon, wait…” you manage to murmur, half-laughing, half-breathless. “s-sensitive.”

you melt on his chest, catching your breath, as his hand cups your pussy again, letting 'you' rest.

“that was—how do you even know how to do that?” it’s a genuine question, and you can’t help but admire him, the way he’s panting lightly, his cheeks flushed.

he chuckles nervously, looking away for a moment, then back at you shyly. “i mean… i just pay attention? it’s like… figuring out the math of it all, but way more fun.” his eyes sparkle, and you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head at how nerdy he is, even in these moments.

“well, you know what they say about nerds,” you wink, reaching out to play with the ends of his shirt. “they can be really good at—”

“okay, stop,” he laughs, cutting you off.

“so, um… can i, like, do that again sometime?” he asks, his tone shifting to something softer, almost hopeful, and the way he looks at you makes your heart flutter.

“absolutely,” you say with a grin, leaning in to give him a quick peck, your bodies still tangled together.

“how about we switch positions next time? i think i could make you scream even louder.” he teases, but his red cheeks don't lie.

you freeze at his words, heart racing as you process what he just said. he’s learned way too quickly, “which one are you talking about?” you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice, even though your cheeks are flushed too.

“any one you want,” he replies, a in a shyly-confident smirk on his face. “i’m a quick study when it comes to this kind of stuff.” he smiles wider. “just tell me what you like, and i’ll make sure i learn it.”

you can’t help but laugh. “oh, is that so? you think you can handle it?”

“absolutely,” he says, hugging your body to him. “just say the word, and i’ll show you just how good i can get.”

[babyleostuff]

kissing them mid argument | ot13

❥ seungcheol 

instantly forgets what you were fighting about AND will chase your lips with his. cheol usually argues until the end, but when it comes to you, it doesn't matter if the blame falls on him (even though he didn't do anything) - as long as he can go back to hugging, kissing and suffocating you with his love, he’s a 100% fine with taking the blame (okay, who’re we kidding - he’ll be a bit sulky). you’d keep apologising to each other with his forehead resting on yours, and whisper quiet "i love you’s" that cheol would seal with his pouty lips on yours. 

❥ jeonghan 

jeonghan would roll his eyes, one - to tease you, two - to hide how shy your kiss made him. his cheeks would turn into a pretty shade of pink but he’d quickly try to distract you with a sarcastic remark or gaslight you that you’re the one that got shy, just to hide his reaction. at the end though, hannie would grab your hand, pulling you closer to him, and place a soft kiss on your lips. "you're lucky that i love you, because normally i would have kicked you out of the house by now."

❥ joshua 

shy at first then turns into a little menace. he’d try to turn it all against you and probably start chasing you around the apartment so he could kiss you back (a perfect way to put that awful argument behind you, since it was about something silly anyway). shua would still have a slight blush on his cheeks when he gets you, wrapping you in a big hug, as you’d try to wriggle yourself out of his grip. soon your living room would be filled with giggles and laughs. 

❥ jun 

turns into a shy and blushy bean, which always happens when you kiss him out of the blue. jun was just so focused on the argument and careful not to raise his voice at you that he totally didn’t catch the moment you grabbed him by his hoodie, smashing your lips into his. he’d thank his lucky stars for your kiss, he absolutely hated fighting with you, and nothing felt better than feeling your lips on his, your body close to his chest, and your hands cupping his face. 

❥ hoshi 

he’d grin so widely it’d be almost impossible, with the corners of his eyes scrunched adorably - soonyoung is a number one fan of your skinship and physical affection, and you kissing him is a cherry on top no matter what - even if you’re arguing. not a second would go by, and hoshi would pull you back, kissing you all over your face as both of you would erupt in a fit of giggles and soft smiles. just for funsies, soonyoung would try to start an “argument” with you just so you’d kiss him again.   

❥ wonwoo 

malfunctiones for a hot second. just kind of stands there and blinks - no thoughts, head empty. all his rational arguments would fly out of his head and he wouldn't know what to do with himself. "yes, well.. um." then he could react in two ways - either his ears would turn red with embarrassment, or he would snap at you with the "what the hell do you think you are doing." (with love of course). wonwoo just doesn't always know how to react to your affection.

❥ woozi 

jihoon can’t help but smile - he thinks you’re the cutest and most adorable thing ever. after he realises how widely he’s smiling, he scoffs and shakes his head in disapproval, just to hide how giddy and fluffy you made him feel with such a small thing. “do you think this will end the fight?” just give him another kiss and he’s gone - the fight is forgotten, there is no way jihoon will take this argument seriously anymore, thanks to you and your cute antics. what can i say, he has THE biggest soft spot for you. 

❥ dk 

he’s face would scream “kiss me again, please?” one of the things seokmin hates the most is fighting with you - even if it’s just a small everyday argument - he can’t handle that, so he’s so so happy and relieved when you kiss him. the second you pull away you’re met with his puppy eyes and an adorable pout, so you don’t have much choice but to kiss him again. your fight would quickly turn into a soft makeout session, filled with gentle kisses and apologies, though neither of you really knew what you were apologising for at this point.  

❥ mingyu 

sulky baby because he was about to say the best argument in his life, happy that he could finally stand up for himslef (though he knew he wouldn’t have won that fight either way). but to be honest, gyu would just be relieved that the fight was over, and if he wasn't so focused on kissing you back, smashing his lips into yours, he’d probably do a victory lap around the apartment. his puppy eyes would be sparkling with nothing but love and excitement, delighted that he could go back to being his usual clingy mingoo self.   

❥ minghao 

would ignore your kiss at first and keep on fighting with you, adamant on proving his point. he’d ignore the next three kisses as well, still babbling about whatever you were fighting about. by the fifth kiss, hao would start to lose his train of thoughts, and he’d start stuttering a bit, trying to remember what he wanted to say. then the sixth and seventh kiss would come, and that’s when he’d give up on the fight. “cute,” he’d mutter with a soft smile, and finally kiss you back. 

❥ seungkwan 

“i’ll give you a kiss later, just let me finish.” very adamant on finishing the fight although he’d completely forget what he wanted to say, all thanks to your kiss, (but boo would still continue to babble even though it wouldn’t make much sense). then he’d just kind of catch himself making no sense, and he’d just laugh and kiss you back, your fight long forgotten (just as you’d be about to fall asleep he’d remember what he wanted to say, and would keep you up for the next hour just so he could finish the argument). 

❥ vernon 

malfunctiones #2. “okay, but does that mean we’re done fighting?” just stands there trying to process what had just happened, because a second ago you were arguing, and now you were kissing him? a bit confused, but relieved at the same time - vernon hates fighting with you, and it doesn’t really matter to him who takes the blame - he could honestly take the whole blame if that meant the fight was over. he’d think about that lil kiss for the rest of the day, he’d even catch himself smiling at the thought of it in the middle of practice.   

❥ chan 

blushes furiously, and hides his head in your neck. “you can’t kiss me like that, we’re fighting!” he’d mumble, although you knew he had forgotten about the argument the second your lips touched his - chan was just too shy to admit that. turns into a little cutie, because even though your relationship is filled with surprise kisses, and out of the blue hugs, they always make him shy and so fuzzy on the inside, and he can’t help but blush as every coherent thought leaves his mind.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys

[nonuify]

ok group them into: stroking, grinding, pounding

either what their favorite is or what they use to make their partner go 😵‍💫

ᝰ.ᐟ — SVT ⟢ making you finish

› nsfw is included ┆ smut — requested ꩜. minors dni.

STROKING ;

.ᐟ jeongha, seokmin, minghao, seungkwan ; i think stroking is their favorite way to do it tbh, it’s just so perfect? teasing you & making you deny your high god just seeing your fucked out & desperate face will make them all hard again, like I just imagine them stroking your clit or hole in small circular motion & you being the whiny cry baby you are begging him to make you finish till he finally does.

POUNDING ;

.ᐟ seungcheol, joshua, wonwoo, chan ; god now for them, they won’t pull out of you, unless you are uncomfy with it obviously but their favorite way to finish with you is enjoying his cock deep inside of your cunt, pounding your walls & stretching you open like it totally sounds like heaven for them, what more could they ask for if they are balls deep in you?, & seeing all that mixed cum dripping from your cunt oh god.

GRINDING ;

.ᐟ soonyoung, jun, jihoon, mingyu, vernon ; now for them, i think he’d liked to finish you off in a more sensual manner, cause what’s more better than you grinding on his cock, while he admires the beauty that mounts him, its literally the hottest thing he could experience with you, watching you whine & struggle to do it makes it 1000x better for him, he’d also hold your hips for help when you give up, he will totally take the lead & it’s honestly just so sexy ugh.

! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ thank you for reading >ᴗ< !! I hope you enjoy this anon much love ! [ divders by @/ cafekitsune. ]

[synthetickitsune]

Cozy and Comfy ✧ l.jh

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x gn!reader Genre: fluff Summary: Jihoon doesn’t understand why you like lying on top of him so much no matter how many times you explain. To be honest he isn't sure why he misses it when you suddenly stop but he'll get to the bottom of the mystery. Word count: 3.5k A/N: it's soft hours for woozi rn.

There are a few things Jihoon values above all else. Some of these things are his privacy and personal space - understandably so, after living and spending most of his time with twelve other guys for a significant part of his life.

However, this is his private time now and even though he might not be the biggest fan of physical affection, his hand cradles your head to his chest. His other hand is on the small of your back to reassure you he’s there. 

You seem most satisfied like this, seeking out this exact position night after night whenever he comes home to you. He doesn’t mind, if he’s being completely transparent - he likes it too. This sort of intimacy that seems to help him recharge instead of draining him further. He wonders if it’s going to be the same once you live together, wonders if he’ll mind if this little ritual stops.

Jihoon remembers the beginning, when you shyly proposed the idea and he let you do whatever you wanted because he was curious. There was a wide smile on your face when you crawled between his legs and settled almost fully on top of him. You were adorable, gently rubbing your face against his chest. He teased you - are you a cat or what? He didn’t want you to get up, didn’t expect that you wouldn’t recognize the humor in his voice. Before he could say anything, his body reacted on its own to stop you. It felt even better when he was holding you, he discovered. And his touch was enough to let you know he wants you to stay right there.

And now here you are.

Today your hand is stretched slightly so you can play with his hair. It’s getting inconvenient at this length but he has to admit your attention makes it slightly better. He lets you mess with the tips and pull at them gently. He even allows you to loosely braid the strands you can reach. Maybe it’s that he’s already slowly drifting off, maybe it’s that he’s just in love.

He’d like to have more time with you, but the nights usually end like this - with him suddenly falling asleep before he can realize how tired he is and you waking him up so softly and gently he doesn’t mind it at all. It’s nice, if he’s honest. To have someone to trust, to have you slowly lead him to the bedroom. You look so sheepish after having to wake him up that it always feels like the first time you gave him the privilege to be led to your room. 

It’s the perfect way to spend the night. This way he gets to fall asleep next to you twice instead of just once.

Jihoon doesn’t understand why you like lying on top of him so much no matter how many times you explain. Not that he minds - he just can’t comprehend what you’re saying to him.

He doesn’t get your excited you’re so cozy and comfy. He gets that he’s warm, sure, or that you like hearing his heartbeat. He also likes it when you sometimes sneak your hand under his shirt and put it above his heart. Just as he’s fond of moments when nothing can help you relax but lying like this while you’re both naked, with nothing but a blanket covering you. Hell, it’s nice is fine too. But the rest of it? It’s just confusing.

What he also doesn’t understand, and what pretty much solves the question of whether he’d miss lying with you like this if you stopped doing it as often, is what’s been going on these past few days.

It’s not literally always that you lie on top of him, sometimes it’s too hot or you’re just not feeling as affectionate or one of you is in pain or sick. But none of this applies now. He knows this because it’s definitely not hot, he checked that you’re feeling fine, and you’re all over him otherwise. 

It’s just that you won’t take part in your little ritual. 

Last night you did for a bit but you were restless and squirming until you gave up and laid tucked into his side. Now, he’s not complaining about that - it also feels nice but it’s not exactly what he’s used to and what he started to look forward to each day that he’s spending with you.

On the fourth day he cracks and once he lies down, he opens his arms for you. Jihoon knows he’s cheating because you never say no if he explicitly asks for any type of affection. He figures there’s no harm, though, thinking that maybe you’re just feeling a little self conscious as you sometimes do. He sees the surprise on your face, feels reassured by the giddy laugh from your lips and how happily you take your place where you belong. He might hold you just a little tighter for a bit. Just maybe. He pretends he doesn’t know he’s doing it.

Yet even though everything seemed fine, like things returned to normal, they didn’t. You’re trying to hide it, but it’s impossible to mask your squirming when you’re literally on top of him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, his brows furrowed into a concerned frown. Are you feeling uncomfortable with the position all of a sudden? Are you hurt? He trusts you to say something if that was the case, but maybe you needed some encouragement? Needed him to show that he cares? His hold loses some of its strength.

“Yeah, why?” you turn your head to look at him. To your credit, you keep lying on him, and even if your voice is nothing but curious, he feels like you’re calling him out. Daring him to say he misses the affection he sometimes playfully teases you about. He contemplates for a moment before he decides that he trusts you. Really trusts you. And he’s… worried.

He might not understand what you mean by him being cozy and comfy to lay on but he knows it’s what he wants to be. He doesn’t think anything about him changed, so he wonders if maybe he did something that changed your perception of him. He licks his lips, ready, and then groans nonetheless. He knows you won’t tell anyone, but still…

“It’s just, uh, you don’t seem comfortable and I don’t know, did something happen? Did I do something?”

His hand moves from the back of your head to your face, gently caressing your face with his fingers. Did you maybe just feel uncomfortable sharing whatever is the issue with him? He doesn’t know why you’d feel that way, but he’s ready to do whatever he needs to if it means getting your trust back.

“Hey, Jihoon,” you call his name softly, as if you knew just what was going on in his head. You scoot closer to him, a movement which naturally makes him curl an arm around your waist. “It’s nothing. It’s really nothing.”

“Yeah?” he asks and immediately cringes at how defensive he sounds, “Sorry.”

You smile and pull away, slowly moving to straddle him once he lets you. Soon you guide his hands back to your waist. 

“Have you started working out more?” you ask and it makes the frown on Jihoon’s face deepen.

“No, I don’t think so,” he shrugs. If anything, it was a struggle to fit the work outs into his schedule. He couldn’t have more of them if he wanted to. “Why? Do you think I should - or should work out less?”

“No, not at all,” you’re quick to reassure him, “It’s just that your body is, uhm, harder lately.”

Your voice gets weaker towards the end, but not enough that he would have trouble hearing you, although he can’t really imagine what you mean. 

“Explain?” he asks, blinking a couple times. You groan, leaning down to hide your face in his shoulder.

“It’s just that, well, usually you’re kind of soft and comfortable? Like not soft soft but just, I don’t know, nice to lay on,” you rush with the explanation but that’s okay - so far Jihoon understands nothing anyway, “But lately you’re so hard - your body, I mean. Like you’re turning into a rock or something. Are you sure you’re not overdoing it at the gym?”

It’s a bit too much information that he doesn’t know what to do with. Again, he’s not sure what you mean exactly, so he stares at you for a second or two before he finally speaks up.

“We started adding more weights recently, so maybe,” he shrugs.

“And you didn’t notice something is different?” you ask, rising from your hiding spot. You seem confused - just as confused as he is.

“Well it’s not like I poke myself to know what my body feels like, y/n,” he deadpans, “I’m more sore but something hurts all the time, so I can’t say I noticed much of a difference.”

He watches as your expression morphs into one of concern and he’s so grateful for his quick reflexes that allow him to pull you down before you can get up from his lap. “What’s wrong?”

“You tell me when it hurts, right?” you ask, worrying your lip between your teeth. He smiles softly and nods. He’s glad when you relax, but he keeps his hands on your hips anyway. “You rest enough, right?”

He resists rolling his eyes and just confirms instead. “You know I have to take care of my body if I want to do this for a long time - and that includes rest.”

“And eating proper meals,” you remind him. He chuckles, agreeing with you easily. “If you’re short on time and need a meal quickly just let me know.”

He smiles, bringing one of your hands to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. He’s grateful for you, truly. But he can’t help but wonder if you know how much you’re actually doing for him. If you’re aware even all the little things add up.

“I appreciate that, but you know I can just order-” 

Before he can finish the sentence, there’s a finger pressed against his lips. He doesn’t protest upon seeing the determination in your eyes. “You know what I want to say, right?”

“Of course,” he sighs, his lips still turned up, “And you know I enjoy when you cook for me.”

The way you beam at him one would think he’s never told you before. But he did. Every time. Because it was true and the least he could do.

It gets quiet for a while, but Jihoon’s happy enough to know that nothing’s wrong. He knows his overworked muscles will eventually get stronger and heal, returning to their original consistency that was apparently soft but not soft soft. There’s always a chance that you’ll get over your fondness for this particular position, but that’s something only time will tell. For what it’s worth in the eyes of fate, he hopes you never will.

With the crisis over, his body starts to feel the day again. As if all the aches simply hid to make room for his insecurity and only now started to come back once the air cleared. He tries to push back the yawn, but fails yet again. He hears you shake your head, well familiar with the sight. He holds you tighter before you can think about leaving.

“We can move to bed, you’ll fall asleep soon anyway,” you rub your hands over his chest, but Jihoon is nothing if not stubborn. So despite his aching body, he flips you sideways and traps you between his body and the edge of the couch. He takes more pride than he probably should from the fact that you cling to him despite his not soft body. He’s holding you. He wouldn’t let you fall. 

“In a while, I like this thing we have,” he mumbles, taking advantage of your face still buried in his chest where you can’t see the longing in his eyes.

You know it’s a lost fight anyway, and it’s not hard to oblige when the prize is being held by Jihoon and relaxing watching whatever you put on. He always tells you that the pillows are more comfortable than him, but you’re pretty sure you saw him frowning while you took one to put under your head.

You settle into a more comfortable position with your back against his chest and his arm loosely thrown over your waist. You can’t even remember the last time you spooned like this. It’s nice. Regardless, you miss your usual position. It allows you to watch him once he falls asleep, and his heartbeat is nicer under your palm or your ear instead of against your spine.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel as his breathing evens out against your neck. His face is buried in your hair and you don’t understand how that can be comfortable. You won’t complain, though, when you are so perfectly surrounded by his warmth. You feel your own eyes becoming heavy. You’re actually looking forward to your bed, but you don’t have the heart to wake up Jihoon yet. It’s always a gamble, trying to allow him to sleep for as long as you can without falling asleep yourself, but you have yet to lose. You are responsible for his comfort, after all. And that’s a job you do best.

Things get back to how they were eventually. Jihoon’s body regenerated enough that it’s returned to the cozy state now, even though he still has some reservations regarding the label. One day you went as far as to call his biceps squishy, which he has yet to process. 

Overall, though, things are peaceful.

Just as he wanted.

Only today was tough. Really tough.

One of those days he’s so grateful he could cry for taxis being a thing. He doesn’t know how he’d make it home otherwise and still he managed to doze off in the car. At least he’s familiar enough with the route to your apartment that he can manage it even half asleep. It’s a small miracle he doesn’t stumble and fall on the stairs.

You on the other hand think it’s a miracle he’s made it this far without passing out cold.

The moment you opened the door - or more precisely the moment you had to open the door you knew something was wrong. If your boyfriend can’t even unlock the door himself, something is very wrong.

It’s heartbreaking to see him like this, but at least he’s out of it enough not to mind your concerned gaze on him as he shoos you away so he can take off his shoes. A herculean task it seems because it takes him forever. You’re close to telling him to just come in anyway when he pulls them off at the last second.

You help him straighten up under the guise of taking off his jacket - something he usually doesn’t allow either, but it’s not wildly off limits. Neither is hugging him as a greeting. If you cling to him a little to help him to the bedroom, that’s between you and the sky above because you believe he falls asleep on you for a minute there. A belief that comes concerningly close to being the truth when he blinks and looks around the room as if he had no idea where he is.

“This is the bedroom,” he slurs the words together, but at least you know he’s not sleepwalking yet.

“Yeah - look at you, Jihoon. Where else do you think we should be?” you chide, gently. He can be moody when he’s tired, though you think he’s not in a state where his brain is capable of processing something as complex as a mood.

Instead of answering, he nods in the vague direction of the living room. You have half a mind to scold him, but then think better of it. Another thing about tired Jihoon is that he’s even more stubborn. 

“Okay, sure, we can go there, but wash up first, hm?” you instruct him and turn to walk away when he grabs your wrist. His hand falls limply back down, but it achieves what he wanted.

“Why? I’ll do it later,” he argues, frown pulling at his features.

“You won’t, love, and we both know it. Now, you can either wash up yourself while I heat up some food, or I can help you and then get you the food, so?” 

One more thing about Jihoon is that he’s infuriatingly determined to take care of himself without relying on others. Especially when it comes to you.

He’s getting better though. You see it when his lips pout slightly but he still gets up and heads to the bathroom.

You take that as your sign to head to the kitchen to warm up the soup you made earlier. It’s not much, but you hope he’ll be stronger later and you’ll manage to persuade him to eat a proper meal. For now, though, the soup will have to do. You don’t think he would manage anything requiring him to put actual effort into eating.

Just as you begin pouring the warm substance into a bowl, you hear footsteps in the living room. You follow their trail across the room in your head and then breathe a sigh of relief at the soft thud where the couch should be. You carry the soup over, not too hot, just the right temperature to eat.

Jihoon is already sitting there, although it looks like he’d much rather fall sideways and sleep. You hand him the bowl carefully, however you never get to give him the spoon as he just drinks the liquid straight from the bowl. You sigh, but leave him to it and carry the utensil back to the kitchen. He’s done with the soup when you return, but he looks so miserable that you decide to put the dirty dish further away on the table and deal with it later. 

You sit down next to him but don’t stay put for too long, lying down and opening your arms for him. He looks at you with pure confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on,” you sigh, motioning for him to lay down. He looks hesitant, if a bit more awake.

“I’m heavy,” he counters.

“Weighted blanket. Stop fighting and just lay down. I’ll push you off if it’s too much,” you raise your brows at him in a clear challenge. He might be more stubborn, but you’d win this fight since you wouldn’t fall asleep halfway through it. He sighs, grumbling something unintelligible under his breath. He does move though, and you make space for him between your legs, helping him settle over your body. All that working out and yet he struggles to hold himself above you, his body shaking with the effort.

“It’s alright, lie down,” you coax him, slowly. He all but melts over you once your bodies touch, like butter on a warm toast. He looks so comfortable you feel a little bad for guiding him to a more comfortable position with his head on your chest. It’s for him to lay comfortably, of course, but it also gives you easy access to his hair. 

First you smooth any stray hair away from his face, maybe taking just a second to caress his skin while he allows the affection. Your fingers glide through the locks without any trouble. Again and again you brush your fingers through them, enjoying the texture, scratching across his scalp like you know he likes. You think how much you’ll miss this when he cuts his hair short again.

“Stop, I’ll fall asleep,” he murmurs, words barely recognizable, “I haven’t asked about your day yet.”

You sigh - try to, really hard you try, but fail harder. You just laugh, in love. 

“It wasn’t anything special,” you assure him, “There’s always later if you’re curious.”

You think he tries to nod, a little jerk of his head against your chest. He presses his face further into your chest, his ear right above your heart. You know the feeling well, holding your breath - hoping. Hoping he’ll find the same comfort in you as you find in him.

“It’s really nice,” he more so breathes than whispers. And soon enough, his breathing slows down and evens out, his body getting heavier like a blanket pushing you into the cushions of the couch.

You smile for a second, and then return to playing with his hair.

This is what home should feel like, you decide. Like the trust he puts in you by letting his guard down, like the unconditional love he shows you by always holding you while he falls asleep - but also like the safety in knowing there will be a new day and nothing will change.

You’ll still have each other.

[hannieehaee]

Hiii i love your writing sm that is always look forward to anything you write . Pls remember to take care of yourself .

Imagine chan having a younger s/o , doting on her , taking care of her protecting her 😭😭😭😭 it would be so cute

them having a younger s/o

content: small age gap between reader and member, established relationship, etc.

wc: 1056

a/n: thank u hehe u take care too!! <3 also i wrote this assuming the age gap is nothing too crazy!! just something like 3-5 year difference for hyung line and 2-3 year difference for maknae line c:

masterlist

seungcheol -

he was MADE to dote on and care for a younger s/o. his credit card would literally be your own. his home would be yours. would treat you akin to kkuma in the sense that he'd coo at you incessantly any time he was away from you for more than a few hours and would love dressing you up in cute outfits to match his own (in a low-key, fashionable way, of course). he'd adore a younger s/o because he'd feel like he could really provide for you with both his wealth and wisdom.

jeonghan -

being the one of the elders of the group and having a younger sister, he's literally been trained for a younger s/o. im completely convinced he'd adoooore a younger s/o that he could dote on and baby in every possible instance. he'd use his preschool teacher voice on you all the time and coo at you so much that you'd literally have to beg him to stop. at some point he'd start doing it just to annoy you lmao.

joshua -

tbh i feel like he would be kinda indifferent about you being younger than him, but would still acknowledge it at times. would coo at you and baby you in exaggerated manners to tease you over being younger than him. but! this would just be a veiled way for him to take care of you.

jun -

how is he supposed to baby you when he's the embodiment of baby himself? however, the creator of the aegyo cat set would still manage to coo at you and attack you with constant aegyo to show his affections towards you. all in all, though, i think he would be a lil indifferent about you being younger than him. maybe it'd inspire a little extra protectiveness from him, making him always keep you close to him in public spaces and use his massive shoulders to shield you from crowds or any danger.

soonyoung -

he'd baby you at times but for the most part would be pretty indifferent about being older than you. however! he would let his childish/immature side come out more often while around you, reasoning that you brought out his more youthful side. would probably match your energy at all times. he'd 100% use the 'im older than you' card to try and win arguments/disputes (it wouldnt work).

wonwoo -

absolutely endeared by you!!! have you seen the way he looks at chan? if you were around chan's age, he'd give you the chan treatment but a thousand times over. would cackle at any joke you made, always keep his adoring gaze on you, bring you snacks even when you didnt ask for them, make space for you on his lap whenever he played games or watched movies. you'd be his baby.

jihoon -

he'd try to hold back for a while, but he'd eventually break and feel an instinctive need to take care of you in a way he would a younger member. even if you were a very independent and self-reliant person, he would still take care of you in his own low-key way. would make sure you always had all your meals, make space for you in his studio and provide you entertainment so you could accompany him in there in the long hours of the night. he'd feel a special type of love for you knowing he could dote on you so freely.

seokmin -

he'd be obsessed with you!!!! would baby you constantly and take care of you in every way imaginable. youd also kinda activate his cuteness aggression without him realizing. he'd wanna be the one and only man to protect you and become a rock for you to rely on. would feel happy and proud to be a person you trusted and someone you could look to whenever you needed.

mingyu -

yet another member who would go insane over being older than you and use it as an excuse to baby you at any given opportunity. would treat you like loyalty and would act as if it was a crime if you ever did mundane stuff on your own instead of allowing him to do it for you. walking to the other side of the room? why when he can just piggy back you there!! packing your own lunch in the morning? nope! he's cooking you a whole meal!

minghao -

ive always felt like he'd go for someone younger just for the traditional aspect of it (idk i have no basis for this belief lmao just a hunch). he'd enjoy playing the role of the dependable boyfriend with a younger s/o to provide for and dote on. it'd just bring him a special type of satisfaction to know that you could look to him as a reliable source of comfort. would be the ideal boyfriend and take care of all your expenses and all your emotional needs.

seungkwan -

he'd be so damn overbearing in the way he took care of you im ngl. would keep tabs on your meals to make sure you had all your meals every day, would push vitamins on you, and just have huge concern for your health overall. he'd also feel insane cuteness aggression for you at the most random times, becoming overly affectionate and expressing how cute he thought you were (even if your age gap was teeny tiny).

vernon -

gives me the vibe that he wouldnt really care if you were older or younger. however, seeing the way he dotes on his little sister and gets along with her, i think he'd be similar with a younger s/o. wouldnt really bring up your age difference much but would still use it as the butt of jokes or use it as an excuse to take care of you at times in which he just felt a little extra affectionate towards you.

chan -

as the youngest, he'd love the idea of him being able to baby someone for once (ik he has a younger brother ok). would use the 'im older than you' line to death and be so fucking annoying about it. however, he would also feel satisfied knowing he was a dependable figure in your life who could take care of you in the same ways his members always took care of him.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Tireless Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, deepthroat—you know what, just read the whole thing, hm?

length: 8k+

author's note: I speedran this fic so please forgive me if it's too messy; I just wanted to make use of this free time.

p.s. this fic takes place before and after The Determined Wife.

-

Irene walks in the bedroom as you’re gathering your consciousness after a very good, post-sex sleep. “Ah, good morning, my love.” She high steps towards the bed to join you, taking her rightful place in your arms. “Love, on a scale of 1 to 10, how awake are you?” “Seven, probably.” You rub your eyes to see if maybe you can improve that score. “Okay, maybe eight and a half,” you revise.

Irene thinks that it’s not good enough; she wants you to be 100% in the right mind this morning, which is odd. She sits on your lap and starts kissing you passionately, seemingly in high spirits; she’s likely very satisfied with the fact that you’ve granted her wish to be bred.

“Tell me again.” “Nine and a half,” you tease. Your wife rolls her eyes. “Ugh, please don’t play hard to get.” You chuckle. “Aww, come on, love; I just want more kisses.” She puts on the beautiful smile that’s unique to her and only her. “Ah, fine, you win.”

She comes in for one more deep kiss, going as far as invading the space of your mouth with her tongue—it’s unfortunate that she breaks it soon after, though. “If that didn’t make it 10, I’m going to suck you off,” she says. “Sounds tempting,” you tease, “well, maybe later—let’s get to your point first.”

With a smile, Irene fishes something out of her shorts pocket and hands it to you with a closed palm. It is only when she lets go that you can see what it is: a pregnancy test device with two lines on it. “I’m a mother, love,” Irene starts breaking into tears, “I’m a mother, and there’s no question that you’re the father.”

Tears, endless of them, start flowing freely out of your eyes and onto your cheeks. “Y-you’re pregnant, my love?” Your grip on the little test kit weakens as your hand starts trembling—oh, look: a tear lands on the device, right where the little screen is. “I am,” Irene joins you in crying, “thank you for granting my wish.”

You put the small device to the side because you want to use your hands to hug your wife. “No, no, no,” you say, “thank you for giving me such a huge blessing.” Irene starts crying more freely, and you can’t help but do the same. “We’re going to become parents, love—isn’t that crazy?” “It is,” you agree with her, “thank you for making it possible for us, love.”

Irene pulls away from the hug, placing her hands on your shoulders instead. “You need to get ready for work, don’t you, love—let me start your shower.” You shake your head. “Screw work,” you say, “I want to spend this wonderful day with you and only you.” Your words draw a wide smile on her face. “Sounds great, love.”

She turns around before leaning against your chest, placing your hand right on her stomach that’s now occupied by the little one—your little one (the fetus hasn’t formed yet, yes, but the point still stands). Irene giggles as you rub her belly gently. “You’ll need to come up with some names, love.” “You first,” you say, “do you have ideas?” She taps her chin as she thinks of a candidate. “Jihoon-ie if it’s a boy, and Hyewon-ie if it’s a girl.”

You’re a little startled; Jihoon was the name of your little brother who passed away just before he turned 9 years old (you were 13 at the time) due to cardiac arrest. Your parents, specifically your mom, took his passing heavily, falling into what you learned years later as depression, which explained why they weren’t at home a lot—they were busy seeking help from professionals, both at home and abroad.

Irene knows about this story, obviously; you’ve taken her to his resting place a few times. “His memories can live on with our child, love,” she explains the reason behind the idea. “I’m glad that you have that idea, but personally, I think I’d let him rest,” you say, and Irene dares not argue.

“What about your ideas, love?” You take a few deep breaths as you try to come up with some names. “I don’t have any boy names in my head, but Yeseo if it’s a girl,” you say. Irene likes your idea; she thinks that it’s such a pretty and cute name for a girl. “Well, we’ll need to wait until they can tell if we’re having a son or a daughter.”

-

Mr. Hwang, the cook, has made some fettuccine for breakfast, since Irene said that she’s been craving pasta—a pregnant woman shall have what she wants. So, here you are: sitting at the table in the dining room with Irene, ready to fill your stomach with this tasty-looking dish.

Seeing the tall glass of water reminds you of something important that you want to address with Irene. “My love,” you place a hand over hers, “now that we’re going to become parents, let’s stop drinking alcohol, hm?” She nods enthusiastically. “I was about to suggest that idea to you, hon.” You smile. “I’m glad that we’re on the same page.” “About that, though,” she backtracks, “what about our collection? We have some nice wine and champagne.”

You ring the kitchen bell, and Mr. Hwang appears after a few seconds. “Yes, sir?” “Do you drink, Mr. Hwang?” “I do, sir, occasionally,” he admits. “Nice,” you put on a thumbs-up, “would you like to keep our liquor collection? We want to stop drinking now that we’re expecting.” His eyes widen in surprise. “I would be honored, sir, but as far as I know, they’re expensive.” You smile kindly while placing a hand on the side of his arm. “The only thing I care about, Mr. Hwang, is my wife and my child’s health—I don’t care about those bottles.” “If you say so—oh, and congratulations on the pregnancy, sir.”

After convincing Mr. Hwang to keep your collection of liquor for himself, you return to your wife. “Mr. Hwang will take care of those bottles, love; we won’t have to throw them out,” you inform her. “Erm, actually,” says Irene, “can we give the Masseto to my parents, love?” You agree with her request, thus officially marking the start of the transition to a clear-headed life without alcohol.

-

You invite Irene to join you on the sofa because you think that you have some things to discuss with her. “What do you want to talk about, love?” “Which hospital do you want, and how do you want to deliver the baby?” After thinking about it for a while, Irene says she wants to try delivering without surgery but is open to it as the last option. As for the hospital, she chooses the Sacred Heart Hospital, which is a very good hospital that’s also not too far from your house.

“Next up, our stuff,” you say, making Irene confused. “What do you mean?” “Well, we’re going to need a new car; I don’t think transporting the 3 of us in that 911 or your Genesis is a good idea.” “Do you want to sell the 911?” No, you don’t want to; Irene bought that silver speedster as a birthday present for you. “I was thinking that we should just buy a new one—something that can accommodate us and our child comfortably.” She pulls out her phone to search for options, but you stop her. “That doesn’t have to happen today, love,” you say, “we can think about that later on; I was just trying to get it out there, you know.”

Irene moves to sit on your lap. “I have some things to ask from you, love,” she starts on a new subject, “tell me what you think about them, okay?” You nod to get her to continue. “First, whenever possible, please come home early and don’t spend too much time working.” You say yes without hesitation, which satisfies her. Work will always be there, but your child’s growth and other important moments only happen once—wouldn’t want to miss your child’s first word or first step, would you?

“Second,” she puts up two fingers in front of your eyes, “please have mercy on me when we have sex.” You ask her to elaborate further. “I know that we can get rough sometimes, so let’s turn it down a bit to make sure the child isn’t in danger or anything.” “What about the frequency?” You take your turn to ask. “Just the usual, please; I’ll tell you when I want it, and you can tell me when you want it.” Again, without hesitation, you agree to her terms, which apparently serves as a segue for her next point.

“Can I have you, love?” You grin as you feel your cock getting hard. “You certainly can, love—can I have you as well?” Irene giggles cutely. “That goes hand-in-hand, doesn’t it?” “Just wanted to make sure, baby.”

Because of the time and day, there are other people in the house (i.e. the cook and the cleaning staff), so the only place you can have sex in is the bedroom. On your way to the bedroom with Irene in your arms, she taps your chin to get your attention. “Love, Miss Jo wants to take a leave to visit her parents,” she says. “We’ll go out later and get her some stuff to take home.”

You set Irene gently onto the bed in compliance with her request to take things easier during sex. “Ah, my gentle giant,” she comments. She hasn’t used that nickname in quite some time, now that you think about it. That name was given to you by your fellow student council members (including Irene) back in university when you refused to beat up a toilet peeper and would rather have him formally punished by the university and charged by the victims. “I thought you’ve forgotten that name.” She lets out a giggle. “How can I forget, love?”

You come in for a kiss to indicate that you’ve had enough chatter, and Irene welcomes you warmly as usual. “Please, love,” she gulps, “please start already.” You reach for her pajama top and undo the first button. “Patience, baby; I still need to undress you.” She cooperates by undoing her top starting from the bottom button and meeting you halfway. “There, I helped,” she says, making you laugh a little. She then proceeds to pull down her shorts just as you’re about to ask her.

Your gaze lands on her firm belly where your child is being safely kept. “I hope you won’t hate me when my stomach gets bigger.” You shake your head rapidly. “There’s no way I’d hate you for that—you’re my wife and that’s our child in your belly,” you say, and you see that Irene’s eyes are threatening to burst.

You join her in bed after undressing yourself and after she has taken off her underwear. You then pull her into a hug and peck her head everywhere, making her let out that lovely laugh that’s special to her. Once you stop, she places her hands on each side of your face. “I swear on everything I have that I’m so glad that I ended up with you and not with that Kim Junghwan guy.” “He never deserved you,” you say, demeaning. “That is true,” she agrees with you, “you and only you, love.”

You take the bottom position today, letting Irene have her way with you. “I have a feeling that I’d not be able to ride you as well with a big belly,” she comments as she moves to sit on your lap. You’re starting to get ticked off, but at the same time, she’s coming from a good place, so for now, you simply let out a sigh. “Love, please don’t worry about the sex; we’ll adapt as the pregnancy continues. Just focus on your health and stress levels, please.” Irene places her hands on her chest. “That’s touching, love—thank you.”

With your cock in hand, she aims it at her entrance. “Here I go,” she notifies you, as if you couldn’t see what she’s doing. Irene slowly goes down on your shaft, hugging it with her tight and warm walls. You breathe deeply as she starts moving up and down. “Fuck, that’s good,” you praise her to rile her up. “Yeah, daddy?” There it is: the kink that you love the most—Irene has always been quick to use it.

Irene bends backwards slightly and fixes her grip on your knees. After making sure that she’s steady, she starts moving faster on your cock, and you desperately want to hold those bouncing plump tits of hers. “Daddy, daddy,” she chants, “oh, you’re so deep in me, daddy.” “Keep it up, baby—fuck, you’re doing so well.”

Irene might not be the best at working out, but damn is she good at managing her stamina during sex; it feels like she has this extra battery pack that’s specifically used for sex, and as long as praises and words of affirmation keep flowing out of your lips, that battery will never die.

“Oh, no, daddy,” she slows down a little, “I think I’m about to cum.” “I don’t see the problem with that.” You slap her butt a few times to get her to speed up again. “Go on, baby; be good and cum for me.” Irene nods and picks up the pace again, trying to adhere to your command to “be good.”

Irene’s thighs shake violently when her first orgasm hits while her walls are gripping your shaft very tightly, making it very hard to you to not just bust right here. You pull her towards you and hug her. “Good job, love—very good job.” “You—oh, you always bring the best out of me, daddy,” she replies despite the heavy pants. “I can say the same about you, love,” you whisper back.

Without retreating from her pussy, you roll over until you’re the one on top. “You’re so sweaty, love,” you comment while wiping her forehead, “that must’ve been exhausting for you.” Irene shakes her head feebly. “A-anything to make you happy, daddy.” The way she always puts your pleasure as the top priority is touching. “Alright, let’s take a breather first, okay?”

“Take a breather,” you say, but you’re still slowly moving back and forth in her pussy, making her let out soft moans despite the exhaustion. “Ha-have mercy—please, daddy,” she utters faintly, almost too quiet to reach your ears. “Don’t worry, baby; I’m being gentle.”

As you keep fucking her like this, you can feel your orgasm inching closer, so you pause for now. “Okay, I’m going to stop here—I don’t want to cum without your full attention.” “B-but you have my attention, daddy.” You chuckle. “Your eyes are barely open, love.” When you see her opening her mouth to make an argument, you quickly lean in for a kiss to interrupt her. “Relax, love, we have all day.”

You’ve spent the last few minutes kissing (while still being inside her), and Irene is the first to break it. “When are you going to give me your cum, daddy?” You assess that she has recovered enough for you to finish this, so to answer her, “Right now.” You straighten your back and prepare to start. “Where do you want it, love?” Irene scoffs. “Where else?” “But what about your career?” The callback to the career vs. child argument makes her laugh. “I’m literally pregnant right now, in case you forgot—fill me however much you want, daddy.”

You place her legs together on one side of your shoulder and start fucking her. Irene promptly places her hands on her tits, doing whatever she can to add more stimulation on top of that you’re giving her. “Daddy, you’re close, aren’t you? I can feel it, you know.” You let out a hum to answer her. “Give it to me whenever, daddy.”

You fasten your grip on her legs as you turn up the pace to the maximum of your ability. Your wife has now been reduced to moans and screams; she no longer has the headspace to play with her tits and instead just puts her hands on each side of her head.

“Love, I—” Before you can finish your sentence, semen escapes your shaft and enters her body, making her let out a long, sensual moan because of the warmth. “Oh, daddy,” she gasps, “oh, God, you’ve filled me again.” You let go of her legs and fall limply onto her body. “I love you, baby,” you say right into her ear. “I love you more, daddy.”

-

As you roll closer towards your house, you see your wife patiently waiting for you in the front garden among the flowers. She turns her head and puts on a smile for you, and you swear to God that exhaustion and stress from work has been taken away, and along with it, your breath.

You quickly jump out of your car, stumbling on your own leg in the process. “Welcome home, love,” she greets you with open arms. You take your rightful spot in her arms, and you can feel her belly bump against yours. “Tired, love?” “I was but not anymore,” you say. “It’s like magic, isn’t it—the moment you see your significant other, everything else just disappears.” “Absolutely,” you agree with her.

Irene invites you to sit on the garden bench with her, but you opt to take a knee in front of her instead. You rub her belly gently to greet your little one, and Irene looks at you with a smile of approval. “I want to say that I’m tired, but it doesn’t feel right.” You furrow your eyebrows. “Why not?” “I mean, it’s you who went to work, not me.” “That’s absurd; you might be at home, but I imagine being pregnant is tiring.” You can tell that she wants to make another argument, but the way you’re looking at her right in the eyes makes her bury that intention.

“Have you eaten, by the way?” Irene nods. “I asked Mr. Hwang to make me lentil soup for lunch.” Lentil soup sounds nice and healthy, which is important for a pregnant woman. “It was so delicious, by the way.” You laugh. “He’d be in deep trouble if it wasn’t.”

You think that this is enough catching up for now and that it’s time to get into the house, so you carry her inside safely. Irene says she wants to watch TV because she’s “tired of being in the bedroom,” so you put her down on the sofa and hand her the remote. You then tell her that you’ll join her after taking a quick shower.

When you get back to the living room to join her, you see that Irene is watching this little documentary on Giethoorn, this beautiful hamlet in the Netherlands where rivers run everywhere. She keeps letting out wows as shots of the area are shown on screen, deeply immersed in the show. “Do you think we can move there one day, love?” “Oh, man, I hope so; that looks like a really nice place to live in.” Irene turns your head towards you. “Maybe if we can’t live in the Netherlands, we can live in some quieter place instead—Damyang or Jinhae, perhaps?” You smile at her. “We’ll see what we can do, alright?” Not satisfied with just words, she makes you make a pinky promise that you’ll seriously consider it.

-

You didn’t know that you fell asleep, only waking up because you feel soft pokes on your thigh.

“Hngh?”

“Love, you’re tired, aren’t you?”

“A little.”

“Please, that doesn’t look like a little.”

“A little lot, perhaps,” you change your answer.

“I was going to invite you to sleep, but you haven’t eaten yet.”

“That’s fine, love.”

“No, it’s not fine—do you want to have food delivered here?”

“Eh, sure,” you accept her offer, “order something light for me, please.”

Irene doesn’t say anything, presumably busy scrolling through the food delivery app to find something for you. “Light, light, light—what’s something that’s light?” “A lamp—haha, get it?” Irene slaps your thigh for your joke. “Daddy is really funny, isn’t he, Hyewon-ah?” Hearing your wife say that name startles you a tad. “Hyewon-ah? Really?” “I don’t know,” Irene shrugs, “I just like that name.” “Oh, I thought we’ve found out if we’re having a daughter.”

Irene focuses on ordering food again, and something finally catches her fancy. “What about some toast, love?” “What toast?” She shows you the available options, from peanut butter toast to kimchi and cheese toast. “Get me one peanut butter toast, please.” She says that it’s a better deal to order at least 3 toasts, so she adds some other toast to the order. “It’ll be here in around 45 minutes, love.” You thank her for the help and then invite her to rest her head on your lap.

“Love me, please,” she says in this aegyo-esque voice. You bend down and peck her on the forehead. “Anything specific, love?” Irene opens and closes her mouth a few times, seemingly trying to judge if she should speak her mind. “You’re so tired, though,” she utters, and you can already tell what she’s getting at. “You want me between your legs, don’t you?” Your wife covers her red face. “W-well, if you put it like that…” “We’ll wait until I have some food in my stomach and see how we can proceed—do we have a deal?” “Yes, deal!” The way her voice cracks makes you laugh. “My, my, aren’t you a cutie?”

-

The toasts are here: you’ve grabbed the bag from the delivery man and put it on the living room table.

You pick up the box with the text “PB” written on it. Irene says that she has bought some toast from this place before and hopes that you’ll like it like she does. You nod in satisfaction after taking the first bite. “I think I know what brand of peanut butter this is,” you comment. She scratches her head in cluelessness. “I don’t know, love; they all taste the same to me.”

You notice that Irene has two hands on top of each other on her stomach and keeps licking her lips while watching you eat. “Want to have a bite, lovely?” She nods timidly. “It looks so good,” she admits, “b-but I don’t know if I should eat.” You tilt your head in confusion. “Why not?” “Erm, I think that’s ultra-processed food—that’s one. Two, I don’t want to gain too much weight.” Weight can be quite a sensitive subject, especially considering that your wife has always been paying close attention to it.

You keep chewing as you think of a reasonable answer—well, here it goes: “I’m sure that you have good intentions, but I’m almost certain that one toast won’t hurt you or Hyewon-ie.” You can tell that she’s starting to get swayed, as proven by how she has a box with “CHOCO” written on it in her hands. “Forgive me, Hyewon-ah, but I really want this toast.”

You panic a little when Irene sheds a tear after taking a bite. “Oh my, are you okay, love?” She nods again. “T-this is so good, but I feel so guilty for eating this—oh, I’m so sorry, Hyewon-ah.” You put down your and her toast on the table so that you can hold her hands. “Love, love,” you try to get her to focus on you, “it’s okay, no one is yelling at you for eating one toast—not me, not Doctor Shin, and certainly not Hyewon-ie.” “A-are you sure?” “Yes,” you say in a resolute tone. “We’ll be just fine, trust me.”

Feeling decently comforted and assured by your words, Irene asks if she can have her toast again, so you give it back to her. You make sure you don’t forget to wipe that random tear off her cheek while you’re at it. “Thank you,” she utters softly. “You’re welcome, my love,” you say equally softly.

-

After finishing those tasty and quite filling toast, Irene asks if she can have you between her legs, so you stand up from your seat and stretch your body to warm up. “I apologize in advance if I finish too fast; I’m kind of tired.” Your wife shakes her head. “As long as your load is mine, I don’t really see the problem with finishing fast—I’ll probably finish before you, anyway.”

There’s only you and your wife in this house right now, but that doesn’t change the fact that sex should only happen in the bedroom for the next 6 to 7 months; it’s more comfortable for her and safer for your child.

After getting undressed, Irene asks to be helped sit on the stool that she prepared earlier today. “It seems like you have an idea,” you comment. “Yes,” she says, “I want you back there.” “What happened to turning it down?” “This isn’t our first time, is it—just remember to be gentle.”

You open the bedside drawer to find the lube and see that it’s not there. “We don’t have lube?” Irene looks away to hide her red cheeks. “Erm, I might or might not have used it earlier.” You furrow your eyebrows. “You used it? For what?” She shyly admits that she fucked herself in the rear with a dildo this afternoon. “I-I wanted to prepare for you, because I know you like it when I think ahead.”

It’s not strange or new to you that your wife is lustful; you’ve known that for years at this point. That said, you’d think that being pregnant would turn that lustfulness down, but it doesn’t seem like it so far—in fact, it feels like she’s more lustful than ever.

You stand in front of her and hold her chin. “Oh, love, what would you do without me—who could satisfy you if not me?” “I don’t know, daddy; it’s always been you since day one.” You reward her with a kiss for answering correctly. “May I, then?” Irene giggles slightly. “Certainly.”

You walk around and look for your target. “I’m pulling this plug out, alright?” After getting a nod of approval from your wife, you gently tug on the plug. “Ngh!” Irene clenches her fists when she feels her rear being stretched by the wide part of the plug. “Relax, love—it’s almost out.” With a pop, the plug is finally out of her tight ass, and you quickly put your mouth on it for the first time ever in this marriage, making your wife gasp in shock. “Daddy, no, I’m dirty there.”

You ignore her and keep running your tongue on her puckered hole; quite fun, you must admit. Occasionally, you try parting her cheeks apart so that you can put the tip of your tongue in her rear.

Feeling weak, Irene starts tumbling forwards, but you catch her just in time to save her from going face first onto the floor. “God, you’re so crazy, daddy.” “Your new task, baby, is to keep it clean all the time—is that clear?” Irene nods in obedience. “Y-yes, sir; I will try my best.” You squeeze her butt cheek lightly. “Good girl,” you praise her.

You get on your feet and hug the panting woman from behind. “Are you alright?” “Y-yes—fuck, you’re fucking crazy.” You pinch a nipple, more surprising than painful. “That’s not how you speak to me, woman.” “S-sorry, sir, b-but you are indeed crazy.” You kiss her on the back of the head. “I hope you didn’t mind, by the way.” Your wife shakes her head. “Not—oh, not at all.”

“Sir, daddy,” Irene can’t choose between the two, “would you fuck my ass, please?” “Thought you’d never ask, baby.” You stroke your shaft to make sure that it’s properly hard and ready while your wife spreads her butt cheeks to give you access. You place the tip right on the entrance of her forbidden hole. “Are you ready, baby?” “Yes—oh, God, fuck, yes.”

You waste little time and go deep right away into her warmed-up hole. “Fuck, you’re always so tight right here.” “Hngh! Ngh!” Irene can only let out grunts as she’s getting overwhelmed by the stimulation you’re giving her. “No one can touch you like I do, hm?” She shakes her head weakly as a response, still unable to say anything back.

You hook her arms backwards as you get ready to fuck her to make sure she doesn’t fall off the stool. “I’m yours, daddy—fuck me however you want,” she says, as if it was ever a question. “Bet.”

With this steady posture, you start fucking her ass roughly, forcing Irene to scream with each thrust delivered. “My husband is fucking amazing—Hyewon-ah, daddy is fucking amazing,” Irene thinks as the sounds of your hips crashing against her butt enter her ears.

As time goes on, everything starts to get blurry for Irene, and it doesn’t help that from this position, she has no control over how fast you’re fucking her. “P-please stop,” she says weakly, hoping that it’ll still reach your ears amongst the clapping sounds. It doesn’t seem like you heard her, though; you’re still fucking her ass recklessly, which leaves her no other choice but to just yell out loud. “DADDY, STOP—PLEASE!” Hearing her scream makes you stop abruptly with more than half your shaft still lodged in her ass. “Daddy, please, let me breathe,” Irene begs.

Still panting, you gently retreat from her gaped ass. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you just realize how rough you’ve been. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, love,” you repeat to show sincerity. You pull her into your arms and take a seat on the edge of the bed, and the sight of your wife crying (from getting fucked in the ass, nonetheless) twists your heart like nothing else. You keep repeating apologies while rubbing her stomach gently, hoping that doing so could also tell Hyewon that you’re regretful of your actions.

Irene feebly reaches for your face. “I-it’s okay; it was good until it became overwhelming, daddy.” You lie her down on her side and inspect the result of your recklessness—it seems like she didn’t get injured by your shaft. “I think you’re fine, baby.” “Great,” she replies, “so what are you waiting for?” You blink rapidly in confusion. “I thought you were in pain?” “I never said that,” she shrugs. Seeing that you’re silent, Irene piles on. “C’mon, look at yourself, daddy: you’re still hard and ready to fuck me—let me finish the job, please.” “Fine,” you give up, “I’m not getting in your ass again, though.”

Irene says that you have a deal and asks you to lie down so that she can take control, which is fine by you; you’ve had enough “fun” being dominant tonight. You keep an eye on your wife as she aims your shaft towards her entrance from the cowgirl position. You grit your teeth when Irene slowly sits down on your cock—you’re in her ass again. “Oh, fuck, welcome back, daddy.” “I thought we had a deal.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Irene deflects, “anyway, I hope you enjoy the ride, hihihi.”

Irene rests her subtly bulged belly on your body while her hips are busy bouncing up and down along your length. She keeps chanting “you’re in my ass” as if you can’t tell that you are indeed in her ass. You reach around and slap her butt. “Go faster.” Having planted her hands on your chest, Irene tries to bounce faster on your cock. “Oh, oh, yes—how’s this, daddy?” It’s you who can’t respond this time; just like earlier, the way her muscles are squeezing you prevents you from thinking straight and coming up with words to say.

You rest your head on the pillow while your wife is busy fucking herself on your cock (while moaning so freaking freely), and for some reason, your eyelids feel like they weighed 100 kilograms—what the hell are they so heavy for? “You must be close, daddy,” Irene makes a keen observation. “Uh-huh,” are all that escape your lips. Hearing that you’re close serves as fuel for Irene to keep up the tempo and make you bust with her ass; this tireless woman can be very crazy in bed, pregnant or not.

“Love, I’m about to—oh, fuck, I’m about to bust,” you warn her. “Yeah?” Her voice is barely heard thanks to the endless clapping noises. You grip the pillow your head is resting on as your cock starts twitching wildly in her rear. “Baby, please,” you let your desperation to cum be known to her.

Irene slams herself down onto your body, and you instantly erupt, surprising the both of you at the same time. She throws her head back as your warm semen floods her ass. “Oh, oh, yes, daddy.” It was her who did all the work, but it’s you who’s panting heavily.

“Love, thank you so much.” Irene removes you from her ass and lies down next to you. “Even when tired, you’re still so strong,” she praises while her hand runs along your length. “What’s your secret, daddy?” “You’re my secret; if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be like this.” You let out a low moan when your wife manages to squeeze the last bit of semen out of you. “You’re so cute, you know that?” You chuckle. “No, I don’t.”

-

It feels odd to not have Irene welcome you at the driveway, especially since she’s been doing that consistently for the past few weeks, too. Her Genesis is parked neatly in the usual spot, so she must be at home, but where is she?

“I’m home.” You close the door behind you and scan your surroundings—still no sign of your wife, making you wonder if perhaps she’s asleep. You make your way towards the bedroom, and your jaw drops immediately when you see her kneeling on the floor while being almost entirely naked. Irene buckles a little, presumably because she feels a fetus kick. “Even Hyewon-ie doesn’t approve,” you comment.

You rub the side of her face gently. “What on God’s green earth are you trying to do, love?” The ball gag in her mouth prevents her from answering, but she has this little spanker in her hands that she’s trying to hand over to you. “Love, please, what are you doing?” Irene just looks at your feet while her hands are on her thighs. “This isn’t how a woman in her second trimester is supposed to behave, is it?” You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to get yourself together. “Fine, I’ll play your game.”

Your wife steals some glances as you undress in front of her, and when you’re finished, you take the time to take off her bra, exposing her tits that you swear have grown bigger recently. You then lift her onto her feet to remove her panties, and Irene instantly drops back down onto the floor after you’re done. “Oh, you’re that serious, aren’t you?”

You pick up the slim paddle from the floor and prepare to swing. “Wait, where do I hit her?” You look for places to hit her on, but the more you think about it, the more that you don’t want to do it. That said, you imagine that it’d disappoint her if you chicken out, so you decide to play along until she taps out.

You hit her on the right shoulder once. “Ngh!” Irene lets out a yelp of surprise when the paddle lands. “That’s one.” You move the paddle to your other hand and hit her on the left shoulder. “I’ll count until 29, okay?” Irene nods in response, and that’s when you look for other targets.

You ask her to show you her palms and hit them successively. “Any ideas?” Your wife taps her thighs, indicating that she wants to be hit there, so you hit those two spots, harder than you’d like to admit, making her grunt in pain. “Sorry.” That sounds less sincere than you’d like, but it’s okay, you’ll make it up to her later.

Before you continue, you join her on the floor and unlatch the gag. “This doesn’t look comfortable, so I’m taking it off,” you say. Irene relaxes her mouth now that she’s free. “Thank you, master.” You sigh. “Master? Really?” Irene nods enthusiastically. “Yes, master.”

You stand back up and swing at her tender breasts out of nowhere. “Fucking naughty, aren’t you?” As Irene opens her mouth to say something, you hit her breasts again. “You’re pregnant, and this is how you fucking act? Explain yourself.” You tell her to explain herself, but you don’t give her the chance to do so, interrupting her with a hit on the forearm. “M-master, please.” “Please what?” You subconsciously raise your tone. “Please punish me; I-I’ve been naughty.” You roll your eyes. “Fuck it, we’re going back to zero.”

You hit her on different places in rapid succession, and Irene screams after each one. “How many?” “S-six, master.” “Good,” you praise her emptily, “count to 18, slut.” You initially chose 29, which is the date she was born, but changed it to 18, which is the date you were born. As much as you’re putting on a cold charade for her, you don’t have the heart to hit her 29 fucking times.

You tell her to get on her hands and knees to expose other parts of her body. You smack her on the back a few times before moving on to her butt and hitting it a few more times. “How many?” Irene chokes up momentarily before she manages to get her answer out. “T-twelve, sir.”

To end the show, you give her some hard hits on the back of her thighs. “E-eighteen, master.” “On your knees,” you command, and Irene obeys right away. “Explain yourself, or else.” “I-I was just trying new stuff,” she says. “Is that it?” Irene just nods, and you can’t help but sigh, feeling somewhat frustrated by her simple answer.

“Love, be honest with me: why are you acting like this?” After taking a deep breath, Irene proceeds to explain the whole thing, from how she tore the left rear tire of her car against an elevated curb while trying to pull into a gas station this afternoon, to the fact that she touched herself thrice while thinking about you. “L-like I said, I’ve been very naughty.” You exhale deeply. “Those few things don’t require punishment—especially not of this sort.” Your wife shakes her head. “But I want to be punished,” she insists.

“Have you had enough, or what?” Irene slowly shifts her gaze to meet yours, and you know that she knows that you’re aroused, as shown by your erect cock. “Do whatever you please, master,” she says, hiding her excitement behind the façade of obedience.

Still kneeling in front of you, Irene eases you into her mouth. You place a hand on the back of her head and pull her towards you, forcing your cock deeper. She’s taken you deep plenty of times, so this is neither new nor difficult for her. “Hold it there and count to 10.” After finishing her count, Irene retreats until only your tip is in her mouth. “Very good—now do it 9 more times.”

Irene does as you command, doing each repetition passionately, much to your satisfaction. “That’s very good, love,” you make sure you don’t forget to praise her. You retreat from her wet mouth to let her breathe, and she promptly inhales sharply. “I-I hope I did well, sir.” You smile kindly. “Of course; you always do everything so well.”

You take a seat on the edge of the bed while you wait for Irene to get herself together. “Anything else, master?” A lit bulb appears over your head. “Is it just me, love, or have your breasts gotten bigger?” She takes a quick look at herself. “I-I think they have indeed grown, master.” “They look so soft, don’t you think?” She nods to your question. “Would you like to touch them, sir?” “I have a better idea,” you say, “put them around my cock.”

Irene crawls towards you and places your cock right between her extra plump tits. “Like this, sir?” You moan in a low voice as your shaft grinds against her tits. “You—oh, fuck, you’re so good at every-fucking-thing.” Your wife blushes. “I aim to please, master.” “Oh, trust me, I’m very pleased right now, love.”

Much to your pleasure, Irene presses her chin against her chest and catches your tip with her mouth every time it pokes through her tits. You pet her head gently. “Good fucking job, baby—fuck, I’m about to bust.” “Please, give me your cum, master.” Irene moves her tits faster, eager to have your first load of the day.

You throw your head back and close your eyes as semen spurts out of the tip of your cock, landing all over her face and chest. “Oh my, very thick,” she comments. “I love how you taste, master; your diet works well for me too, you know.” You chuckle. “Good to know, baby.”

You invite Irene to lie down in bed with you. “You haven’t cum yet.” “Yes, I have; I told you I touched myself a lot today.” You get your tie from the messy pile of clothes. “Hands above your head, please.” She puts her hands together above her head, and you tie them together. “Are we ready?” Irene looks at you nervously. “Please have mercy, master; I’ve had a lot of orgasm today.” “That wasn’t my doing, was it?”

Irene gasps in shock when she feels your hand on her little nub. “Sensitive much?” “Please, master.” “Please what, baby?” “I need to cum again, master—make me cum with your hands, please.” “Well, since you asked so nicely.” You use one hand to stimulate her nub and use the other to play with her tits, going fast and fervent right from the gate.

In the moment of high stimulation, Irene accidentally kicks you in the head—how did that even happen? “That’s not nice.” “I-I—fuck, I’m so sorry, master. I didn’t mean it.” “That’s strike one, Miss Bae,” you warn. To punish her behavior, you increase the intensity of stimulation on her pussy, making her jolt around more. It’s fine if she were to kick you again; you have some more ideas in your head to get her back.

Your wife keeps moaning loudly and freely as her fourth orgasm looms ahead. “Master, master,” Irene begs for your attention, “I won’t last too long, master.” “Oh, is that so?” You plunge two fingers into her pussy and finger-fuck her, and Irene can’t help but moan, possibly until her voice disappears.

Your hand starts getting tired, but as timing has it, she’s also very, very close to orgasm. With an ear-piercing scream, Irene explodes: her legs are shaking violently, and her juice is coming out torrentially. “Very, very good, my love—you’re such a big bomb, aren’t you?” You free her hands and move to barrage her sweaty head with pecks. “We’ll wait until you’re relaxed before doing anything else, alright?”

Amid all this, you notice that you’re getting rock hard again. You start stroking your cock with the sight of your naked wife in front of you. Irene, in her exhausted state, looks at you. “Don’t waste your cum,” she says vaguely. “What do you mean?” “Put it somewhere in me, master,” she clarifies. You stop for a moment. “You’re very exhausted, love. I don’t want to burden you with more sex.” Your wife shakes her head. “I can take it, don’t worry.”

You take a position in between her legs, aiming your cock at her pussy in the process. You announce that you’re going in, and Irene moans weakly at the first contact. She tells you that you need to do all the work this, citing her exhaustion. “Never thought I’d hear such words from you; you’ve been tireless recently,” you say, earning a little chuckle from her.

You kiss her while your shaft goes in and out of her, dropping whatever charade you’ve been using these past few hours. “I love you, baby—I love you so fucking much.” “I-I love you more, hon—you’re the best for me.” Her warm words make you smile. “I’ll stay by your side until death do us part, my love.” “You have a deal.” You hug her tightly when your second load of the day enters her body.

“We’ll rest a bit, if that’s okay with you.” “Sure,” Irene says, “I can’t even stand up right now.”

-

You feel rapid taps on your chest, making you wake up crassly in surprise. When your eyes are open enough to provide vision, you see that your wife is seated in bed with Yeseo in her arms. “Yes, love?” Irene doesn’t answer your question and instead, starts breaking down in tears. “C-can you take care of her a little? I-I want to rest.”

You slap yourself as hard as you can for leaving your wife to sleep and, in turn, forcing her to tend to your child alone. “My goodness, I’m so sorry, love.” You open your hands to receive your daughter who is wrapped snug with a little blanket, and Irene immediately falls flat onto the bed—she’s still crying, though. “Go to sleep if you can, love; I’ll keep her safe.” “I’m such a bad mom,” she insults herself unnecessarily, “I can’t even stay up for my daughter.” “No, you’re not a bad mom—trust me, you’re not.” To offer her some peace, you tell her that you’ll be in the living room with Yeseo until morning. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You give her a peck as a parting gift.

“Yeseo-yah,” you whisper softly, “while mommy catches her breath, we’ll hang out in the living room, okay?” Having been born just a few weeks ago, Yeseo can’t respond much aside from a small head movement, which you’ll gladly accept as an answer. “We’re going to get along very well, aren’t we, sweetie?”

You turn on the TV to watch something in an attempt make sure you don’t fall asleep, and that’s when you see the time: 02:09 a.m. “We’re staying up late, sweetie—I hope you won’t make this a habit when you’re grown up,” you comment.

You make sure that the TV is muted so that it doesn’t startle your daughter when this video starts. “Oh my, look at that place, Yeseo-yah.” A shot of beautiful countryside scenery in Jeju steals your attention, and it’s very hard to resist the temptation to move there with your family. “What do you say we move there, sweetie?” Yeseo lets out a small squeal, and you guess that she’s interested in living there. “Aha, great minds think alike, hey?”

You remember your wife asking if the family can move to somewhere quieter to raise Yeseo in, and now that she’s actually here, you’re really contemplating the opportunity. In your head, you try to think about what work would be like if you lived in a place like Jeju, which is even farther from the big capital. Your brain suggests stepping down from your post and earning from dividends, which sounds like a sound idea. Irene had stepped down from her position of director of risk management two months before Yeseo was born, so it’s not the craziest idea to follow suit.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you and mommy, Yeseo-yah.” You want to say that you’re willing to die for them, but Irene’s words enter your mind: why die for family, if you can be healthy and stay by their side instead? You laugh a little as you recall that exchange. “Mommy is an amazing person, sweetie. Sometimes I can’t believe I ended up with her.”

-

Irene wakes up around 6 hours later, feeling somewhat refreshed after a decent night’s sleep. The first thing she does is obviously to check up on her husband and daughter.

“Look at you: sleeping with Yeseo in your hands.” Irene unlocks her phone and takes a picture of you sleeping with your mouth wide open while Yeseo is chilling in your arms. She gets teary eyes looking at this scene in the living room.

She never had the idea of being childfree and has taken a more neutral stance about it, but at the same time, having Yeseo is quite the surprise turn of her life.

Irene quietly joins you on the sofa to not disturb your peace. “Love, love,” she whispers, trying to get you to wake up, “wake up, please; it’s time for work.” “Screw work,” she hears you say, “I’m stepping down.” She knows that you’re referring to your job. “Are you sure?” “Yes,” you reply again, “we’re moving to Jeju.”

Before getting too excited, Irene makes sure you’re awake. “Love, seriously, wake up.” The way you’re suddenly looking at her with eyes wide open makes her jump. “Yes?” “Were you serious about moving to Jeju?” You nod. “I’ve talked with Yeseo about it, and she agreed.” Irene bursts out laughing, shaking her head in amusement. “Sure, she did.” “Just ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

She plays along with your joke and asks Yeseo about her opinion on moving out of the big city, to which she replies by crying out loud, taking the two of you by surprise. “What, what, what,” you panic, “is she hungry? She’s probably hungry, right?” Irene unbuttons her pajama to expose a nipple Yeseo can latch on, so you hand your daughter over to her to be breastfed.

“Sorry, love, but these tits aren’t solely yours anymore,” Irene quips. You start laughing out loud, finding it difficult to stop. “What—what are you talking about? Why did you say it like that?” Your wife joins you in laughing. “I don’t know—it just felt right to say it.” You shake your head, highly amused by your wife’s odd statement. “It’s fine; I’m totally content with sharing them with Yeseo,” you clarify.

-

You take one last look at your house that is now empty. “We spent a fortune on this house, didn’t we, love?” You nod in agreement. “It’s crazy how much we bought this place for,” you reply. “I hope you won’t regret moving out,” Irene expresses her concern. You look at her right in the eyes while your hands are on either side of her waist. “We’re doing this for Yeseo—this is bigger than just the two of us, love.”

You walk with her outside towards the driveway, where Yeseo’s stroller is parked. “Isn’t she so cute?” “She is,” you say, “I swear I will do and give everything for you and her.” Irene puts on a big smile.

“We’ll give her a good life and a bright future, love.”

“We absolutely will.”

[xinganhao]

🌀 svt reacts to idol!reader having dating rumors.

anon → "could you do ot13 with an idol s/o who’s had dating rumours with another idol/member (/ω＼) big jealousy potential"

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: f!idol reader, mentions of other idols/groups, established relationship, jealousy & sulking 😋, pet names, a kms-adjacent joke (junhui). [short] headcanons under the cut.

🌀 headcanons .ᐟ

seungcheol used to be a lot worse in dealing with your dating rumors. a lot worse. the man would be unbearably sulky for days, but he's since moved on to accept that this is part and parcel with the job. nowadays, he still feels a small itch to be dramatic— but at least he does it with your consent. expect him to rival a kdrama lead with all his lines.

jeonghan gets annoyed. of course he does. he's just prideful enough to feel a little off-put by the rumors, especially how you might've played a role in it. he's learned how to cope, though, through the likes of long-winded video essays and multi-part instagram reels. catch him on his burner twitter account, fighting people over their misconceptions about you. (bonus: he's a one-man team who insists you would look good with "the most handsome member of svt, yoon jeonghan.")

joshua's just chronically offline enough to miss the fact that there are any rumors at all. if he's not hearing it from you, he'll be catching wind of it from the boys who show a little bit of concern. but joshua's the first to giggle at all the ludicrous claims because he just thinks they're all so stupid, honestly. his favorite pastime is dissecting and discussing it with you over a meal, where he makes it his personal mission to have you laughing it off by the end of the night.

junhui thinks he's going to die. no, really. for someone who has gotten into dating rumors himself— co-actresses in dramas, you know how it is— he sure doesn't know how to function when it's you that's in the news. he pouts. he whines. he threatens to blow up the headquarters of every single korean gossip site. it will take him a few days to get over it, and even then, he'll narrow his eyes at any mention of your supposed-boyfriend.

soonyoung will try to play up the jealous act. it's a short-lived thing; he's possessive and territorial when it matters, but not over baseless rumors. he finds it easier to jump on your nerves some other ways— like warning you that he may just be snatched away. "can't blame you if you're in love with lee sangyeon," he'll say with a fake, dreamy sigh, just to annoy you. "i think i am now, too."

cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. there's a litany of that in wonwoo's head. an attempt for him to stay sane about these types of things. on the surface, he's nonchalant. at most, he might look a little miffed. but you know him well, and you know that he's the type who will need a lot a little of affirmation because he's always just a little bit on edge at the prospect of losing you. he'll be good as new after an uninterrupted cuddle session.

jihoon's reaction to rumors such as there are relatively predictable. half an eye roll, a sound like a scoff. he's always made it clear, his distaste for gossip-mongers and the like. he keeps everything on the down low— except his feelings for you— so he has no respect for bullshit articles. besides, his heart is in your hands. which is to say: he has full trust that you would let him know if anything about your feelings might change.

seokmin is one bad day away from making good on his threat of breaking your dating news himself. he'll plant information if he has to! he's just a notch below junhui and mingyu when it comes to kicking up a fuss about the rumors. seokmin is easier to appease— a kiss or two here, a couple of sweet words there— but he's also the first to find out any news involving your name. (he'll never tell you, but he has google search notifications toggled for you.)

'a big baby', you call him, and mingyu would rather die than admit you're right. the man talks like the world is ending any time you're remotely linked to someone that's not him. he's the one you'd have to chase after the most. he'll keep his arms crossed over his chest as he grumbles about 'your other men'. he's never been happy about sharing, and he makes it abundantly clear that includes you.

minghao's chief concern, unsurprisingly, will be how you're doing. how have the rumors affected you? do you need anything to get you buy? everything— the boys' comments, his own feelings— fade into background noise as he focuses on your welfare. he's the picture of composure and self-assurance when it comes to your relationship; you've never given him a reason to doubt your loyalty, so why should he?

it's just like seungkwan to go straight to the source— and, no, he's not talking about you. whoever you might be linked to, he's already sliding into their messages to get the 'scoop'. there's a little bit of manipulation here, in how seungkwan will very 'casually' drop that the two of you are actually seeing each other. if this is his roundabout way of staking claim, then so be it.

vernon's nonchalance can be a little bit terrifying sometimes. these are such instances when you're reminded that he's relatively comfortable in your relationship, enough to ask point blank if the rumors are true. this isn't to be mistaken for him being uncaring. there's still a slight twitch in his jaw, a downturn of his lip when some third party is mentioned. at the end of it all, though? he's quick to shrug it off, because the faith he has in you beats out any stupid rumor.

chan has been working overtime to get the two of you in the headlines. he's matched your phone case! he's shared your music on vlive! and yet, he still isn't your supposed boyfriend, according to dispatch? that's what he's the most upset about, really. that his not-so subtle hints have gone largely unnoticed. chan wants to be loud and obvious about his love for you; he's just waiting for the perfect time to drop that bomb.

[woozivrse]

ways you show love to svt

it's always ways svt shows love to you, so i decided to do this! wrote it in 40min with some help of a friend :) thank u pooks!

cheolie— you indulge him

❣︎ okay that may sound weird but, when he's feeling a little whiny? you coddle him and kiss him better. he's dressing up kkuma and calling her his pretty princess? you agree and buy some lil accessories for her! you get the idea.

hannie— opening a bottle for him

❣︎ whether it be a water bottle or some other drink, these things can be a lil tough. it's a cute way to care, opening a drink for someone before handing it to them. he’ll always give you a cute smile when you do, thanking you with a kiss on the cheek.

shua— trying new hobbies with him

❣︎ we’ve seen how much he tries new hobbies, so you join him! he's making beaded bracelets and jewelry? you make some too! trying out air dry clay? you make a lil pinch pot to join his own. whatever it is, you're sitting there with him trying it out and laughing with him at any small mistakes you two make.

junhui— sending him messages throughout the day

❣︎ you know he's busy most of the time, but you want him to know how often you think of him. it could be a small thing, a picture of a flower you saw, or even just an emoji, you'll still send it to him, hoping he can feel all the love you're trying to convey. good morning and good night messages are sent daily, and a “hope you're eating well!” whenever you update him about your own meal is expected.

soonyoung— tucking him in when he falls asleep

❣︎ he's tired from his various schedules throughout the day, so sometimes he just falls asleep on the couch or on the bed, so you tuck him in! you’ll turn off whatever he was doing– watching tv, scrolling through his phone– and pull a blanket over him with a kiss to the forehead, hoping he rests well. it's likely you’ll wake him up within the hour too, just so he can get more comfy, doing his nightly routine with you and also getting into bed. even then, you tuck him in, hoping he knows how much you love him.

wonwoo— you game with him

❣︎ a lil cliche? yes, but i think he enjoys playing calmer, simpler games with you, like animal crossing new horizons or similar co-op games. maybe you two will even play a puzzle game together, as two minds are better than one and he enjoys doing these types of exercises with you.

jihoon— bringing him food

❣︎ he's busy and maybe a lil forgetful at times, so you take it upon yourself to make sure he's eating well. he might be locked up in the practice room– and if so, you’ll bring food for all the members, not just him– or in the universe factory so you bring him some food and company! you're there so often that those working at the company recognize you and give a friendly greeting.

minghao— you watch his little fashion shows

❣︎ with how well this man dresses, i have no doubt in my mind that he likes to create outfits at home and try them on, and whenever he does, you watch him! he’ll put together an outfit and walk out into the living room where you give him your compliments and tell him what you do and don't like, i think he’d like your honesty with it too. shower him in praise, yes, but give him your honest opinion on the outfit along with it.

mingyu— you'll keep him company while he's cooking

❣︎ personally, i don't cook, but i feel like it could be lonely? at times, doing it on your own. so, you decide to sit in the kitchen with him while he cooks! or if you can't be in the kitchen due to its size, you sit near it so you can talk to him comfortably. he likes having you taste test things, trying to make it perfectly to both of your tastes.

seokmin— you write things to him

❣︎ it's usually little notes, stuck in with his lunch or somewhere in his bag, but sometimes you like to write love letters to him. you could be the worst writer out there, or the best, and he'd keep and cherish every single one you give him. maybe this is how you show your affection best, as saying things to his face might make you shy.

seungkwan— peel oranges for him

❣︎ it's boo seungkwan we’re talking about here, so ofc i have to give him a peeled orange hello? it's a small gesture, peeling an orange for someone, but i think it's cute! you care for this person enough to get some orange peel under your nail and give them the fruits of your labor.

vernon— you listen to his music

❣︎ when i say this, i don't mean svt’s music or music he's personally taken part in, but his music taste. he’ll talk about an artist he’s recently been listening to and if you have the time, you'll immediately pull them up on your phone, ready to try them out. if you don't have the time, you note it down so you can listen to them and tell him your thoughts!

chan— you watch him dance

❣︎ yes, this could go for all of them, but i think since chan has spent most of his life dancing, it's a bit more meaningful for him. maybe you even join him sometimes! it doesn't matter either way, just you being there, enjoying the music and his dancing is enough for him. whenever he finishes a routine and you clap for him, he can feel his love for you grow more and more.

[liz-on-leash]

A Bad Friend

[Commissioned]

NewJeans Kang Haerin × Male Reader

Noncon, Drugged, Fingering, Facefuck, Squirting, Creampie

4,850 Words

The air was buzzing with energy as you strolled around inside the college party. The music thumped through the speakers, the bass pulsing in your chest. 

The room was alive with movement - bodies swaying, drinks sloshing, laughter and chatter filling the air. The dim lighting cast a warm, hazy glow over the scene, adding to the intoxicating atmosphere.

Amidst the chaos, you spot Haerin sitting alone in the lounge, her phone clutched in her hands. You can't help but notice how her pretty features are tinged with a hint of sadness. 

You know she's here because her boyfriend Jihoon invited her, but had to back out at the last minute. Poor thing, all alone at a party where everyone else seems to be having a grand time.

You make your way over to her, a friendly smile on your face. "Yah, Haerin-ah," you call out, drawing her attention. Her face lights up when she sees you, and you can't help but feel a surge of affection. After all, the two of you have been friends since high school.

Haerin's face brightens, her big eyes shining with relief. “Oh, yah…" she calls your nickname, a wide smile spreading across her pretty features. You return the smile as you plop down on the sofa next to her.

"What is a pretty princess doing all alone over here?" you ask, acting not to know the gist of the situation. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Haerin's smile falters slightly as she lets out a small pout. "Jihoon oppa had to leave for a family thing at the last minute," she explains. "Now I'm just waiting around to leave. I already told him I'd get a taxi, but he hasn't replied yet."

You nod sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "Well, you don't have to wait around here all by yourself," you offer. "I can give you a ride home if you'd like."

You notice a flash of hesitation in her eyes before she quickly shakes her head. "No, it's okay," she insists. "I will just wait a little longer to see if Jihoon oppa replies. I don't want to put you out."

You know full well that Jihoon has probably warned Haerin to stay away from you. After all, you've never exactly been the model student - you've always been a bit of a troublemaker, much to Jihoon's apparent annoyance. 

You remember the smug little smirk on his face whenever he's with Haerin as if he's silently gloating over the fact that he got to "steal" her away from you - that only he manages to get in her pants. 

The thought of it irritates you, and you find yourself growing a bit more annoyed than usual before you are pulled from your reverie by Haerin's voice.

"You don't have to worry about me," she says with a smile. "Go have fun! I'll just wait here for a bit."

But you shake your head, returning her smile. "Nonsense, Haerin-ah, I'm your friend, of course, I'm going to keep you company." You stand up, gently squeezing her shoulder. "I will grab us a couple of drinks. Nothing too strong, I know, haha.”

Before she can protest, you turn and make your way towards the drink table. But instead of heading to the main bar, you veer off towards a small, more discreet-looking setup - the "special" booth, as it's known, that provides extra ingredients.

Haerin doesn't seem to suspect a thing as you return with two expertly crafted cocktails in hand.

Haerin flashes you a grateful smile as you return with the drinks. "Thank you so much for spending time with me," she says, taking the cocktail from your hand without a second thought.

As the two of you sip your drinks, you fall into an easy conversation, chatting about classes, professors, and the general chaos of college life. Haerin's cute laugh is music to your ears, and you notice the way her skirt rides up just slightly, exposing the smooth skin of her legs. 

Your gaze drifts to the small swell of her breasts beneath her shirt, and you feel your cock start to harden in anticipation.

Before long, Haerin's words begin to slur, her eyelids growing heavy. She doesn't seem to realize her state, continuing to prattle on as you nod and smile, your mind racing with wicked thoughts. 

Finally, her voice trails off as she loses consciousness, her head lolling forward.

Right on cue, Haerin's phone on the table lights up with a message from Jihoon, saying he will be there in 30 minutes. 

You scoff, cursing that smug bastard under your breath. Haerin is yours for the taking tonight - let's see how proud Jihoon can be after this.

You push aside your anger towards Jihoon, instead focusing your attention on your unconscious friend. You adjust Haerin's posture, guiding her head to rest against the backrest of the couch. 

Your fingers caress her soft cheeks, coaxing her lips into a delicate pout. "Such a pretty girl, about to get ruined." 

If only she had chosen a better man - for example, someone who didn't constantly get under your skin like Jihoon does. "Oh well," you sigh, "Time to have a taste of Kang Haerin." 

The couch is soft beneath Haerin's limp body, her once-vibrant frame now completely pliant and under your full control. You've been planning this moment for weeks, fantasizing about having your way with your friend, and now, with a little help from a potent sedative in her drink, she's at your mercy. 

Her long, slender legs, encased in sheer black stockings, dangle over the couch, twitching slightly as if in a dream. You smirk, knowing that soon, she'll be writhing in ecstasy, or so you hope.

Leaning closer, you inhale the sweet scent of her hair, a mix of vanilla and strawberries. Her breathing is slow and steady, a soft purr in her throat indicating she's deep under. You gently brush her jet-black locks away from her flawless porcelain face, exposing her delicate features. 

Her lips, usually so quick to challenge and tease, are now slightly parted, revealing a glimpse of her pink tongue. You can't resist running your thumb across her plump lower lip, savoring her warmth. She's so fucking beautiful, and tonight, she's all yours.

Your eyes travel down her body, taking in the sight of her perky breasts rising and falling gently beneath her simple branded white shirt. The fabric is already loosened, hinting at the treasures beneath. 

But you're not in a hurry. You want to savor every moment of this violation. Your fingers trace the outline of her nipples, now hard and straining against the thin material. Haerin stirs slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips, but she remains unconscious, a willing victim to your desires.

With slow, deliberate movements, you slide your hand down her flat stomach, the muscles tensing at your touch. Her belly button, a tiny indent, quivers as your fingers poke across it. Further down, your hand reaches the hem of her short skirt. Her pussy, your ultimate destination, awaits.

You lift her hips, bunching her skirt around her waist. Her legs, those long, luscious limbs, fall open, offering you a glimpse of her panties. The fabric is sheer, leaving little to the imagination. 

You can see the outline of her bald, swollen pussy lips, already glistening. The scent of her drugged arousal hits you like a punch, a musky, feminine odor that makes your head spin in delight. 

You waste no time ripping her panties aside, the sound of tearing fabric filling the lounge. Haerin's cunt is exposed, a pink slit that's already beginning to flower under your intense gaze. 

Her clit peeks out from its hood, a tiny pearl begging for attention. You chuckle softly, reaching out to pinch it between your thumb and forefinger.

"Time to wake up, sleeping beauty," you whisper, giving her clit a sharp tug.

Haerin's body jerks, her legs squeezing together as her eyelids flutter, but remain hazy. She tries to speak, but her words are slurred and incoherent.

"Shh, it's me," you soothe, not wanting her to resist. “I'm keeping you company while your boyfriend is gone, remember? And I'm going to make you feel so good."

Your fingers dive into her slit, easily sliding through her juices, coating them in her essence. She's so wet, so ready, despite her confused state. You curl your fingers, searching for her sweet spot, and find it rather quickly. 

Haerin's body arches off the couch, her legs shaking as she tries to escape the sudden onslaught of pleasure. "No... stop..." she mumbles, but it's clear she doesn't mean it.

You don't listen anyway. Instead, you thrust two fingers into her tight cunt, pumping them in and out, violating her drugged innocence. Her pussy is hot and unbelievably wet, gripping your fingers. You add a second finger, stretching her, feeling her inner walls clench around you.

"You like that, Haerin-ah? You like being fucked by my fingers while you're out cold?" you taunt, slamming your digits into her harder.

Her eyes roll back, and she whimpers, her body betraying her. You lean down, biting her neck, marking her as you continue to finger-fuck her mercilessly. Her cunt is making lewd squelching sounds, filling the air with the scent of her sex.

Withdrawing your fingers, you admire her gaping hole, then deliver a sharp slap to her pussy lips, leaving a red handprint on her pale skin.

"You're so wet for me. I had no idea you're such a slut. Maybe Jihoon never made you cum like this," you sneer, slapping her again, enjoying her whimpers.

Haerin's eyes focus on you, a mix of confusion and lust clouding her vision. She tries to push you away, but her drugged state leaves her weak. "I'm… Hnn…" she manages, her voice hoarse.

You laugh, grabbing her thighs, and forcing her legs apart again. "You'll be begging for more soon. I'm gonna make you cum so hard you'll forget his name."

Your fingers dive back into her, curling and twisting, finding that sweet spot again. Haerin's body goes rigid, her back arching off the couch as she whines, a high-pitched sound of pure ecstasy. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers, milking them as her orgasm rips through her.

“There you go, cum for me," you encourage, pounding her cunt with your hand.

Her canal spasms uncontrollably, soaking your hand as she rides out her climax. You keep working on her, determined to make her cum again. Haerin's body trembles, her legs shaking violently as she tries to push you away, but you're relentless.

"Please... stop... can't take more..." she begs, her voice weak.

Ignoring her pleas, you show no mercy, adding a third finger, stretching her to the limit. Her pussy is a mess, juices running down her thighs, but you don't care. You want to degrade her, own her in this moment.

Withdrawing your fingers, you lift them to your mouth, sucking her essence off, savoring her taste. Then, grabbing her head, you shove your fingers into her mouth, forcing her to taste herself.

"Lick them clean, you dirty girl," you command, holding her head still.

Haerin's hazy eyes are wide with shock, but she obeys, her pink tongue swirling around your fingers, cleaning them of her own juices. You grin, knowing you've marked her in more ways than one.

As you release her, Haerin collapses back onto the couch, her chest heaving, her body spent. You admire your handiwork, knowing you've given her an experience she will never forget. That is if she even remembers any of this at all.

Haerin's body lies beneath you, her awareness gradually returning to reveal the violation you've already inflicted. Her eyes, like pools of molten honey, weakly flicker open, revealing a haze of confusion and vulnerability that excites you to no end. 

With a smile, you straddle her delicate frame, positioning your throbbing erection directly in her line of sight, ensuring her quivering limbs are trapped between your powerful legs. Her chest rises and falls beneath you, the thin shirt now clinging to her sweat-soaked skin, outlining the rigid peaks of her nipples.

Haerin's breath catches, her body stiffening beneath your weight, as she becomes aware of the predator above her. You can almost taste her fear, a delicious appetizer to the main course you're about to serve. 

Her gaze locks onto your bulging crotch, her eyes widening as they take in the impressive length and girth of your cock, already straining free against the confines of your clothing.

"Open wide," you say, your voice dripping with lust as you grab a fistful of her silky hair, exposing her slender neck.

She tries to resist, a feeble attempt at rebellion, but her drugged state leaves her powerless against your strength. You yank her head towards your aching cock, making her whimper as her soft, pink lips part in anticipation. 

Her breath, hot and moist, washes over the sensitive head, causing it to throb and leak a thick bead of pre-cum.

"Come on, take it in," you coax, using her hair to guide her mouth onto your shaft.

Her lips touch the tip, hesitantly at first, then with more urgency as the taste of you excites her senses. Her mouth feels like a warm, wet glove as you push forward, inch by inch, stretching her lips around your thickness. 

A strangled moan escapes her, accompanied by a flood of drool that coats your shaft, making it glisten in the dim light. "Suck it, Haerin-ah," you command, your voice hoarse. "Show me how much you love my cock."

Her eyes, glazed with lust and confusion, meet yours as she reluctantly begins to move her head, taking you deeper into her mouth. The sensation is exquisite—her tongue, still groggy from the drug, clumsily caresses the underside of your cock, sending shocks of pleasure through your body.

You hold her head in a firm grip, controlling the pace as you start to face-fuck her with deliberate thrusts. Her eyes water, tears mixing with the drool that freely flows from her mouth, creating a wet, sloppy symphony as you plunge her mouth. The sound of her gagging and the sight of her struggling only serve to heighten your arousal.

"Look at me. Are you secretly a cock-craving whore, Kang Haerin?" you sneer, forcing her to maintain eye contact as you fuck her mouth with increasing ferocity.

Haerin's throat contracts around your shaft, her body's natural response to the invasion, and it sends a jolt of pleasure through your nerves. You thrust harder, her nose buried in your pubic bone, her breath hot and desperate against your balls.

With each thrust, you feel her resistance melting away, her mouth becoming a willing participant in this depraved act. Her tongue, now more alert, swirls and flicks, learning the contours of your cock, making you grit your teeth to hold back your release.

“Ohh, fuck… I'm going to feed you so much of my cum,” you groan, slamming into her mouth with abandon.

Her eyes roll back, her body trembling beneath you as she tries to process the overwhelming sensations. Her hands weakly push against your thighs, a futile attempt to create some distance, but you easily swat them away, holding her in place.

As you pound her mouth, her lips and throat provide a tight, wet sheath for your cock, massaging and sucking you with each withdrawal and penetration. The slurping, gagging sounds fill the room.

"Swallow it all, or I can make you wear it and parade you all around the venue," you threaten, your voice desperate with impending release.

With a final surge, you unleash a torrent of hot cum down her throat, holding her head in an iron grip as you empty your balls. Haerin chokes and sputters, her eyes bulging as she tries to swallow, but you keep her impaled, forcing her to take every thick rope of your seed down her stomach.

You feel her throat muscles working, massaging your sensitive cock as she struggles to accommodate your load. Finally, you release her, allowing her head to fall back, her mouth hanging open, glistening with the evidence of your pleasure.

Gasping for air, she stares up at you, her expression a mix of shame, pleasure, and disbelief. You admire the sight of her, knowing you've pushed her boundaries, marked her as your own. 

Adjusting your clothing, you shoot a final, possessive remark. “Remember this moment, Haerin-ah. Tonight, You're mine to fuck however I please."

Just as you're about to tuck yourself away, the sound of giggling and high-heeled footsteps approaches. Two women, clearly inebriated, stumble into the lounge, their eyes widening at the sight before them.

"Oh, shit! Are we interrupting something?" one of them slurs, her eyes flicking between Haerin's disheveled form and your half-exposed crotch.

You let out a bark of laughter, relishing the momentary confusion on their faces. "Not at all, ladies. Just having a bit of fun. Come on in, I was just finishing up anyway."

The taller of the two, a blonde with smudged makeup, raises an eyebrow. "Finishing up? Looks like the party's just getting started." She winks, taking a step closer, her gaze lingering on your brunette friend.

You'd love to stay and play, especially with Haerin's warm, cum-soaked body still waiting for  you, but you're aware of the ticking clock. Her boyfriend is on his way, and you have no intention of ruining your plan.

"Tempting as it is, I've got other plans for this one," you say, nodding towards Haerin. "But feel free to help yourselves to a drink."

With that, you scoop Haerin into your arms, her body limp and pliant, and gather her belongings. She mumbles incoherently, her eyes blinking as she tries to focus on your face.

"Where... what...?" she slurs, her voice hoarse from the rough face-fucking.

"We're going for a short ride, baby," you whisper, nuzzling her neck. "And then I'm gonna finish what I started."

You stride towards the door, Haerin's body cradled against your chest, her legs sagging, still bearing the marks of your fingers. The two women watch, mouths agape in a chuckle as you exit.

Outside, you gently deposit Haerin into the backseat of your car, arranging her skirt to provide a modicum of modesty. Her eyes drift shut again, her body surrendering to the drug's pull. You start the engine, a devious plan forming in your mind.

"Time to take this party somewhere more private, Haerin-ah," you mutter, pulling away from the curb.

The drive to your apartment is a blur of streetlights and growing lust. Haerin remains unconscious, her body swaying with the motion of the car. You can't wait to have her again, to mark every inch of her without the fear of interruption.

As you pull into the empty parking lot of your building, the excitement builds. You carry her up the stairs, relishing the weight of her in your arms, and unlock your door, stepping into the quiet sanctuary of your home.

Haerin's eyes flutter open momentarily as you lay her on your bed, the soft sheets welcoming her small body. She blinks, trying to focus, her lips forming a question.

Your gaze remains fixed on Haerin's body as you begin to undress, your cock already stirring back to life, eager for another round. You peel off your clothes, revealing your muscular frame, every inch of you focused on the beauty lying on your bed. 

Her eyes, slightly clearer, watch you with fear as she processes her surroundings. In one motion, you yank her skirt up, exposing her stocking-clad legs. 

The delicate fabric clings to her thighs, accentuating her slender limbs. You then tear the material away, leaving her stockings intact as a sexy contrast to her pale skin.

Haerin's breath quickens as you pull her body up to remove her shirt, her movements weak and uncoordinated. She blinks rapidly, trying to clear the haze from her mind. "No... please..." she whimpers, a feeble attempt at resistance.

You snatch her shirt and bra from her body in one swift motion, baring her perky breasts. Her nipples, already hard and erect, stand at attention, begging for attention.

"Relax, Haerin-ah," you whisper, your voice a low, menacing purr. "You're gonna beg for more after I'm done. Trust me."

She tries to push against your chest, but you easily overpower her, pinning her hands above her head, holding her in place. "Why are you doing this? We're friends..." she pleads, her voice cracking.

You lean down, your lips brushing against her ear. "Friends fuck, Haerin. And I've been wanting to fuck you for a long time. Especially now, to teach that asshole boyfriend of yours a lesson."

Her eyes widen at your words, a mix of anger and unwanted arousal flashing across her face. Before she can respond, you align your throbbing cock with her sticky slit, the tip already slick with her juices.

"No... please, not like this..." she begs, her voice breaking as you tease her entrance, not yet granting her the penetration her drunk body craves.

With one thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, claiming her pussy in one stroke. Her eyes roll back, and she screams, the sound raw and primal. “Ohh God—!"

Her body trembles beneath you, her pussy gripping your shaft like a vice, milking you as her internal muscles spasm. You feel her heat, her wetness, enveloping you, welcoming you home.

"Scream harder for me," you grunt, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back into her, over and over, setting a brutal pace.

Haerin's cries fill the room, a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Oh God, oh God, please... it's too much..." she sobs, her body shaking with each violent thrust.

You show no mercy, pounding into her, your balls slapping against her ass with each retreat and advance. Her pussy is so tight, her walls massaging your cock, threatening to milk your load prematurely.

"You feel that, Haerin? My cock owning your pussy?" you grunt, reaching down to pinch her hard nipples, making her arch her back.

"Yes... oh yes... I feel it..." she cries, her voice hoarse. "It's... too much..."

You lean down, biting her neck, marking her as yours. "You're gonna take it all, every inch, and you're gonna beg for more," you promise, your voice a gravelly growl.

With each thrust, you go deeper, harder, your cock hitting her cervix, making her see stars. Her body is a mess of sensations, the drug intensifying every touch, every penetration.

"Please... I can't... I'm gonna..." Haerin's words trail off as her body tenses, her pussy clamping down on your cock as she's hit with a powerful orgasm.

You don't let up, continuing to pound her through her climax, determined to make her see stars again. Her screams echo in the room, a testament to the raw, animalistic sex unfolding on your bed.

As Haerin's resistance crumbles, you release her wrists, knowing she's now completely at your mercy. Instead, you grasp her hips, your fingers digging into her flesh, and lift her, angling her body to meet your relentless assault. She clutches the sheets beneath her, her knuckles turning white, as she screams, her voice raw and hoarse.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she cries, her words becoming indistinguishable from the guttural sounds of pleasure and pain.

You watch her face, contorted in ecstasy, as you thrust into her roughly. Her eyes, wild and unfocused, stare up at you, pleading and inviting at the same time. Your cock, a rigid piston, disappears into her wet heat with each forward lunge, only to emerge slick and glistening before slamming back home.

The force of your thrusts lifts her body off the bed, her ass meeting your groin with a satisfying smack on each downstroke. You feel her inner walls, hot and slick, gripping and massaging your shaft, threatening to milk your cum prematurely. But you hold back, wanting to drive her to the brink of insanity.

Her pussy, now raw and swollen, stretches to accommodate your thickness, the lips molding around your girth, leaving a red, puffy outline as you withdraw. Her juices flow freely, coating your cock and balls, creating a lewd, glistening display.

"Please, stop, it hurts!" Haerin begs, her voice cracking. "Your cock... it's in my stomach... it hurts so much!"

You chuckle, withdrawing almost entirely before slamming back into her, making her body jerk. "Liar. You love it. You're just a dirty cum slut who can't get enough."

Her cries turn to incoherent moans as you lean down, your free hand pressing against her distended belly, adding a new layer of sensation to her already overstimulated body. Her orgasm, which had momentarily subsided, reignites with a vengeance.

"No... again... can't..." she whimpers, her legs stiffening, her body shaking as she's hit with another powerful climax.

You feel her pussy convulsing around your cock, trying to pull your seed from your balls. With each spasm, you thrust harder, driving her over the edge again and again.

Haerin's body goes rigid, her back arching off the bed, as she screams, her throat raw from her incessant cries. Her pussy clamps down on you, a grip that threatens to send you over the edge.

You violate her deeper, harder, your balls slapping against her swollen, sensitive lips, driving her to the brink of consciousness. Her tits, bouncing wildly with each impact, leave a trail of saliva and sweat as they sway with the rhythm of your pounding.

"Cum for me again, Haerin-ah," you demand, your voice a raspy command. "Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock."

Haerin's body convulses, her orgasm ripping through her like an electric current, causing her to see stars. Her juices flow, adding to the wet, sloppy sounds of your fucking, as she surrenders to the pleasure you're inflicting upon her.

As your climax approaches, you feel the familiar tightening in your balls, the knot forming, signaling your impending release. Your thrusts become more deliberate, slower, as you savor the moment. 

Coincidentally, Haerin's phone starts ringing, its shrill tone cutting through the room. You see the caller—her boyfriend. An evil grin spreads across your face as you withdraw from her, leaving her pussy gaping, glistening with her juices.

Haerin, sensing a momentary respite, flips onto her stomach, her body trembling, as she tries to crawl away, her movements uncoordinated and weak. You chuckle, striding across the room to answer the phone.

"Jihoon sunbaenim? How's it going?" you answer, your voice laced with false formality.

Haerin, hearing her boyfriend's voice, freezes, her eyes wide with panic. You toss the phone onto the bed beside her, the screen lighting up her tear-streaked face. 

"He wants to talk, Haerin-ah. Go ahead, explain what you've been up to."

She shakes her head, her body trembling, as she tries to cover herself with the sheets. "Please... don't..." she begs, her voice vibrating.

Ignoring her pleas, you grab her by the waist, pulling her up onto all fours, her ass high in the air, presenting herself to you. She knows what's coming, her body betraying her as she begins to leak fresh juices, her pussy still swollen from your rough treatment.

"Looks like she's too busy to talk right now," you say into the phone, positioning yourself behind her. "But I'll be sure to pass on your regards."

With that, you plunge back into her, your thick cock stretching her well-used hole. Haerin screams, her hand flying to her mouth to muffle the sound, but it's no use. Jihoon's voice, now frantic, fills the room as he hears her cries.

You grip her hips, holding her in place, as you begin to pound into her from behind, your balls slapping against her clit. Her body is a canvas of pleasure and pain, her ass cheeks quivering with each impact.

"Fuck! Fuck! Oh God— No!" Haerin screams, her voice muffled by her hand, her body betraying her as she pushes back against your thrusts, meeting your rhythm.

You reach around, grabbing a fistful of her hair, and yank her head back, arching her body, exposing her neck. 

Her response is a guttural moan, her body going limp as she resigns to the sensations coursing through her veins. You feel her pussy clench around your cock, milking you as she's hit with another powerful orgasm.

With a throaty grunt, you unleash your load deep inside her, your cock pulsing as you fill her womb with your seed. Haerin screams, her body shaking, as she's forced over the edge once more, her juices flowing to mix with your cum.

You hold her in place, your cock twitching as you empty yourself into her, before pulling out with a loud, wet squelch. Haerin collapses, unconscious, her body spent and satisfied. 

You laugh, ending the call, and head to the kitchen, leaving her lying there, sated and vulnerable. As you pour yourself a drink, you can't help but chuckle, anticipating her reaction when she wakes up, the realization of what her trusted friend has done.

[thedensworld]

Black Card Issue | L. Jh

Genre: fluff, est. relationship, smut

Summary: after a fight, Jihoon didn't expect to receive notifications for a revenge. However, he's not complaining.

Note: having so much fun writing this with @hoshifighting please check lyla's blog here!

Welcome to the densworld woozi🧚‍♀️

Jihoon is a chill man. Very chill. He values his peace of mind so much that no one dares disturb him when he’s in the zone, writing music. His studio is his sanctuary, a place where time stops and the world outside becomes irrelevant. No one crosses that boundary. No one—until you came into his life.

A little bundle of surprise, Jihoon would say with a soft smile. You changed everything.

You love surprises. It’s something Jihoon figured out pretty early on, back when you were just dating. And now, after years together and tying the knot, he knows it’s not just something you like—it’s a part of you. You’re the kind of person who thrives on spontaneity. The joy in your eyes when you do something unexpected, whether it’s a small gift or a sudden change of plans, has become a familiar sight. Surprises are so integral to your personality that impulsivity became second nature to you, a habit you didn’t even realize you had.

And Jihoon? Well, he’s had to become well-trained in handling it.

It wasn’t always easy, especially in the beginning. Six months into dating, Jihoon was already struggling to keep his composure around you. You were a whirlwind of energy and unpredictability, and Jihoon was the type who liked things calm and structured—especially when it came to his work. But then you would send him something, like that photo on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, just as he was about to attend a critical production meeting. A suggestive caption accompanying a picture of you that left him flushed and flustered.

He spent the rest of that day with his head spinning, barely able to focus on anything other than you.

His team noticed, of course. They always noticed when Jihoon was distracted—because it was rare. They’d been with him for over ten years, watching him pour his soul into his music, dedicated and unwavering. But you? It took you mere months to have Jihoon wrapped around your finger. And the best part? Jihoon willingly let it happen. He wanted to be wrapped around your finger.

And as much as his members teased him, he didn’t mind. Jihoon had always been the calm one, the focused one, the one who could drown out the world when he needed to. But with you, he didn’t want to drown out anything. He wanted to hear your laughter in the background while he worked. He wanted to receive those random photos in the middle of his meetings, even if they made him blush.

Now, Jihoon finds himself in his studio. Not the one at home, but the company studio. It was unusual—his fellow producers were surprised to see him there at this hour. 10 a.m.? That’s too early for Jihoon to be at work, they thought, especially since he rarely left the home studio after getting married.

“Did you two fight?” Soonyoung asked, making a quick stop before his schedule.

Jihoon didn’t answer. He simply turned the volume up, drowning out Soonyoung’s voice. Soonyoung scoffed but left, convinced that the only reason Jihoon would be at the company so early was if you two had fought. He knew Jihoon too well.

"Stop working for a while, man. Give your wife a rest," Soonyoung muttered as he left the studio. Jihoon cursed internally. How could Soonyoung read him so easily?

The truth was, last night didn’t go well. It was one of those nights Jihoon wished he could rewind—just take it all back. He came home late again, far too late. The kind of late where the house was eerily quiet, and the only light on was the one in the living room. He didn’t even realize how long he’d been working until he saw the notifications on his phone—your texts, your missed calls.

His heart sank. The guilt hit him immediately, but exhaustion numbed him from fully acknowledging it. He braced himself as he turned the knob, pushing the door open, hoping maybe you had gone to bed. But there you were, sitting on the couch, arms crossed, your phone lying idle beside you. You weren’t saying a word, but your silence screamed disappointment. And Jihoon knew—he’d screwed up again.

He paused at the doorway, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you didn’t. The air between you was suffocating, thick with unspoken words. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made his stomach twist. He hated it when you looked at him like that, like you were waiting for him to care enough to explain himself.

But instead of apologizing, instead of doing what he knew he should have done, Jihoon snapped.

"I work for you! I work hard to afford the life you want! Why don’t you understand?!" His voice rose, frustration dripping from every word. He didn’t mean it to come out that way. He didn’t mean to make it sound like you were the problem, like you were the one pushing him to the edge. But in that moment, he was too overwhelmed to control it.

The silence that followed was deafening. He saw the way your face fell, the way your shoulders slumped as if his words had physically weighed you down. You didn’t even argue back. You just stood there, absorbing the blow, your eyes wide and hurt, like you couldn’t believe the person you loved could say something so cruel. Jihoon could see it—the disappointment, the pain, the betrayal in your eyes.

He knew you weren’t with him for his money. He knew that from the start. You never cared about his fame, his success. You never asked for lavish gifts or expensive things. What you wanted—what you always asked for—was him. His time. His presence. But Jihoon, in his frantic rush to meet deadlines and exceed expectations, had forgotten.

He was so tired. The stress had piled up to the point that it felt like he was suffocating under the weight of everyone’s demands. His work was relentless, the pressure from his team to deliver perfection was unending, and somewhere along the way, he started feeling less like a person and more like a machine. And in all of that, he had forgotten you were the one person who treated him like a human being. The only person who reminded him to eat, to sleep, to rest.

But last night, Jihoon saw something in your eyes he never wanted to see again—pain. He had hurt you, and the worst part was, you didn’t deserve it.

You didn’t even say a word as you left the room, walking away with that shattered expression on your face. He stood there, frozen, wanting to chase after you, to take back everything he’d said, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t think straight. The weight of everything felt too much.

Jihoon ended up sleeping in his home studio that night, staring blankly at his laptop screen, his mind racing with regret. He didn’t get any work done. How could he? All he could think about was the way you looked at him, the way your lips trembled like you were fighting back tears, the way you didn’t even argue because you were too hurt to speak. He hated himself for it.

The guilt gnawed at him all night, so by the time morning came, he couldn’t bear to be in the same house. He thought if he went to the company studio, if he just got out, maybe it would clear his head. Maybe he could focus on work and forget how badly he had messed up.

But he couldn’t. You were all he could think about. Even surrounded by equipment and projects, even as he tried to drown himself in work, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The regret kept replaying in his mind like a broken record, and the truth settled in his chest like a lead weight—he could never stop thinking about you. He never could.

And now, sitting alone in the company studio, he could still see your face in his mind, the hurt he had caused, and it tore him apart.

"Jihoon…" His manager knocked on the door, pulling Jihoon from his deep focus. He turned his head toward the reflection in the glass and saw someone entering. Quickly, he put down his headphones.

"The bank called me," his manager said, concern lacing his voice. "Someone's been making a lot of purchases with your account, and they couldn’t reach you. So, I got worried."

Jihoon blinked, realization dawning as he remembered he had turned off his phone earlier to avoid distractions. He hurriedly switched it back on, and as expected, notifications flooded his screen. Among them were a surprising number of texts from you.

Curious, Jihoon opened your messages, and his eyes widened. You had sent him a series of photos—shopping bags piled high, receipts for luxury items, and then… a car. You bought a car?

Jihoon sighed, rubbing his temples as he scrolled through the notifications of credit charges—clothes, electronics, and more. Why did you decide to buy all of this in one day?

"Everything’s fine. It’s just… my wife," Jihoon said, a little embarrassed as he reassured his manager. "No one’s using my card without permission."

His manager chuckled, seeming relieved, before leaving Jihoon alone with his thoughts.

Just as Jihoon exhaled, another text popped up. A photo of you in a jacuzzi, clearly in some luxurious hotel, wearing a brand new red bikini. The caption that followed made Jihoon’s breath hitch.

You: Want to give me the life I want? Come here. Turns out, spending your money doesn’t satisfy me enough.

Jihoon sighed deeply, his face growing warm as he hurriedly turned off everything in his studio. It was no use—he’d have to go get his black card back from you. Or maybe get something else.

*

You feel the dash of cold air hit your skin as you lay back against the heated tiles of the jacuzzi, legs lazily draped over the edge. You can’t help the little smirk pulling at your lips as you scroll through Jihoon’s texts. He’s gonna kill you. Well, maybe not kill, but he’ll definitely be pissed off. The shopping spree, the car, the photos—God, you knew exactly what you were doing. Pressing his buttons like that, getting him riled up on purpose, all because he had the audacity to shout at you last night.

But, you’re done with his bullshit excuses. He can whine about deadlines and stress all he wants, but you’re not here for that. You’re here for him, and clearly, he needs a little reminder.

The door to the hotel room opens, and even with the sound of the jacuzzi jets bubbling, you hear it. He’s here. Your heart skips a beat as the familiar, steady thud of Jihoon’s shoes echo in the space. He doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel the burden of his stare on you, heavy and unrelenting. His presence is like a storm, silent but brewing.

You stretch your arms above your head, not even looking up, knowing full well he’s staring.

“Took you long enough,” You hum, voice saturated by fake innocence, like you hadn’t been the one who set the whole thing in motion. “figured you’d be quicker if i spent a little more of your money.”

Silence.

Then, the sound of him setting something down—his keys? maybe his bag? You don’t care. You hear the shuffle of his shoes being kicked off, and that’s when you finally open your eyes.

Jihoon stands at the edge of the jacuzzi, arms crossed, jaw tight, his eyes dreary and locked onto you.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he finally speaks, voice low, a growl almost. “what do you think you’re doing?”

You shrug, acting like you don’t feel the tension. “Just giving myself a little treat. After all, i am your wife. Don’t i deserve the best?”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything, just stares at you for a moment longer before his hands move to his belt. Your eyes widen, mouth parting slightly. “Oh, you think this is funny? You think you can just spend my money, send me those pictures, and i’ll come running?”

“Well, you did come running…” You mumble as if you were talking to yourself.

Jihoon moves, and before you know it, he’s crouched beside the jacuzzi, fingers hooking into the strap of your bikini top, pulling you closer to him with little resistance. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice rough, “this is the last thing you’ll be wearing tonight.”

Before you can even form a reply, he tugs at the fabric, and the red bikini snaps, tearing with a sharp rip.

Jihoon stands back up, the smirk on his face teasing you in a way that gets under your skin. His hand casually tosses the torn bikini top aside like it’s nothing, he looks at you, riling you up on purpose. He doesn’t rush; he takes his time pulling off his shirt, his pants.

You narrow your eyes, trying to keep the annoyance in check, but he’s pushing your buttons. “Really?” you ask. “You had to rip it off just to mess with me? You’re such an asshole”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, taking a step closer until he's right in front of you again. He leans down, pushing you back into the jacuzzi, the water sloshing as your back hits the edge. “You look mad, but I bet you’re dripping right now.”

You can even think of a response, his hand slips into your bikini bottoms just as he sits down. His fingers brush lightly over your clit, not applying pressure, just teasing, circling it slow just to watch you squirm. You twitch under his touch, your legs parting on instinct, hips bucking just slightly. He’s not giving you enough, and he knows it.

“You like to play these games, baby?” he murmurs. “Teasing me, spending all my money. What’s the real reason, huh? Just wanted my attention this bad?”

You bite back a moan, refusing to let him win so easily. “Shut up,” you manage to grit out, but the breathlessness in your voice betrays you. His thumb starts rubbing a little harder, making the bud throb on his thumb. You feel your body arching toward him, a needy moan escaping despite yourself.

“No...” he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I wanna hear you say it. You knew I’d come running, right?”

His fingers press harder now, slipping lower, teasing your entrance without pushing in. Your hands grip the edge of the tub, eyes rolling back slightly as he continues torturing you.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you hiss, your words catching in your throat as his fingers pick up the tempo. He’s still circling, still rubbing, but it’s not nearly enough. You need more, and he knows it.

“Oh, I’m annoying?” he growls softly, leaning his weight into you, fingers pressing harder, deeper, but still not giving you what you need. “What’s annoying is you buying cars and booking hotels like you don’t already have everything you want right here.”

Your legs spread wider, hips instinctively grinding down against Jihoon’s fingers as they tease your entrance. Your hand shoots up to grip his wrist, trying to gude his fingers in, but he stills the arm, cupping you. His other hand trails up your chest, stopping to toy with your nipples, flicking and squeezing them just enough to make you gasp. Then, wetting the valley of your breasts, his hand moves to your throat, wrapping around it in a firm grip, pushing your head back until it rests on the cold border of the jacuzzi.

“You’re so needy,” Jihoon mutters, watching as your mouth falls open, eyes half-lidded, breath coming out in shallow pants. You feel his thumb graze over your bottom lip, smirking as if he’s amused by just how desperate you’ve become. He hasn’t even given you what you want yet, but you’re already a mess for him.

Finally, his fingers push inside, just one at first, but the way your body responds—instantly clenching, your pussy practically swallowing his finger whole—makes him groan low in his throat. The water ripples around the two of you, splashing lightly against your skin as his movements grow rougher.

“God, you’re soaked,” he chuckles, voice almost mocking as his finger curls inside you, hitting that sweet spot making your hips jerk by their own. Even with the water swirling around, Jihoon can feel the heat between your thighs, the sticky slickness of your folds clinging to his fingers as he slides in another.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, trying to pull him closer, but he doesn't let up. Instead, his fingers work you harder, pumping in and out of you making the water splash with every push. The sound is obscene, the wet slaps of his fingers echoing in the room, blending with your suffered moans, and Jihoon's grunts.

You lift your gaze to him, lips parted, eyes pleading, practically begging for more. You look up at Jihoon with a needy expression that you know drives him crazy. But he just grins, slowing his movements slightly, his hand tightening around your throat.

“Aww, look at you,” he coos, voice soft despite the way his fingers are fucking into you hard, relentless. “Such a pretty little mess. You like this, don’t you? Me ruining you with just my fingers?”

You can’t form words, your head tilting back more as his pace quickens again, fingers curling deep, hitting the spongy spot that makes your vision blur. The water splashes harder now, droplets spilling over the edge of the tub as your hips buck in time with his thrusts. Your legs tremble, thighs shaking, and all you can manage is a soft whimper, your entire body arching toward him.

Jihoon chuckles again, watching you fall apart beneath him. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, fingers pumping in and out faster, thumb rubbing over your clit in quick circles. “You’re so fucking tight… taking it so well. What do you want, huh? You want more?”

Your breath catches in your throat, his words making your body ache. You nod frantically, too overwhelmed to say anything. The hand around your throat loosens slightly, giving you a moment to breathe, but he doesn’t stop. His fingers continue their brutal pace, fucking you deep, and you know he’s not stopping until you cum around his long fingers.

You feel your stomach flip when Jihoon curls his fingers and stills them, making your body arch off the jacuzzi edge as you instinctively reach for him, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him down to kiss you.

The kiss is brutish, dirty—his lips smashing into yours, teeth clashing as his tongue slips into your mouth. He sucks your tongue hard, biting down on your bottom lip in that way that always makes your legs tremble. You can’t focus, the pleasure building too fast, making it impossible to keep up with the kiss. But you try, you desperately try, your hands clutching tighter in his hair.

It’s only a matter of seconds before your body betrays you. You moan into his mouth, the sound low and drawn out, muffled by the kiss. You pull him closer, your grip tightening painfully in his hair as the pleasure crests, your body trembling as your back arches impossibly high.

Your nipples graze his chest, the sensation of your sensitive skin brushing against his, makes him shiver, his breath hitching as your slick cunt clenches hard around his fingers.

Your moans become more frantic, desperate, and you can’t keep kissing him anymore. Your mouth falls open, head tilting back as you gasp for air, your body seizing up with the strength of your orgasm.

Your pussy tightens around his fingers, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as you cum, the water splashing violently around you from the press of your movements. Jihoon smirks down at you, clearly proud of himself, fingers still thrusting into you even as you come down from your high. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, voice soft but teasing. “Cum all over my fingers.”

Your mind is still swimming in the hangovers of your orgasm when Jihoon suddenly pulls his hand away. You’re left panting, trying to catch your breath, but he’s already manhandling you, turning you around and pressing you into the edge of the tub.

“Get on all fours,” he orders. You don’t hesitate, your body moving on autopilot as you shift into position, knees pressing into jacuzzi, hands bracing yourself against the edge.

Jihoon’s grip is firm as he presses you down, making sure you don’t slip on the slick surface. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady while he strokes himself behind you. You glance back, seeing him gripping his cock, pumping himself slowly, the tip flushed red and dripping with pre-cum, some veins popping up when he cuts the blood circulation. The sight makes your mouth water.

He lines himself up with you, the head of his cock teasing your wet pussy, but he doesn’t push in just yet. Instead, he grabs your bikini bottom—what’s left of it anyway—and yanks it harshly to the side, exposing your swollen, sensitive folds. You feel the fabric digging into your skin, tight and uncomfortable.

Jihoon watches, mesmerized, as your pussy clenches around nothing, your body still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Slowly Jihoon pushes inside. He takes his time, savoring the way your walls squeeze around him, they way you slick starts to coat him too, your body struggling to accommodate his size. You whimper, fingers clawing at the edge of the tub, trying to keep yourself stable as he fills you inch by inch.

He moans deep in his throat, the sound oscillating through his chest as he bottoms out, his cock buried fully inside you.

You bite your lip, arching your back even more, desperate to take him deeper. “Jihoon… please…”

But he just chuckles darkly, pulling out slowly, only to slam back in, making the water splash around you both again. “Oh, you’ll get what you want,” he promises. “Just keep taking it like that.”

His fingers tangle in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you gasp. The sharp pull has you arching back, your spine curving as he yanks you up against his chest, your back pressing flush against his front. The new angle makes his cock hit even deeper, your breath hitching as the tip grazes that swollen spot inside you.

Jihoon glances at the nearby mirror, his eyes glued to the reflection of your bodies. Your tits bounce with every thrust, soft and flushed, his eyes darken, watching the way your skin sticks to his, the way your body—though trembling—melts against him, sacrificing to the pleasure despite every nerve in your body wanting to tense up.

He moans suffered, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, feeling the warmness radiating off your skin. You’re burning up, both of you are, your bodies slick with sweat despite being submerged in water seconds after. Jihoon can’t help but bury his face against your neck, breathing you in, skin to skin, letting the sensation take over him.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your shoulder, his lips brushing your skin, almost as if he's talking to himself. “I missed this. Missed you.”

His hips don’t stop, driving into you harder, your thighs shaking as you try to keep up, but your body is already on the edge. You’re clinging to him for dear life, your head falling back against his shoulder, mouth falling open as breathless moans slip out with every thrust.

“I’m sorry,” Jihoon suddenly murmurs, his voice softer now, tender. He keeps thrusting into you, but there’s an apology laced in every word, every snap of his hips. “I’m so fucking sorry… for everything.”

You don’t answer, can’t even if you wanted to. Your breath is caught in your throat, the only response you give is the way your body clings to his, melting further into his hold as his hands roam down your body.

He doesn’t expect you to answer. Maybe he doesn’t even need you to. He just keeps going, fucking into you like he’s trying to apologize through the way his body moves against yours. His grip loosens in your hair, his hand sliding down the curve of your waist, lower, until his fingers find the puffy bundle of nerves between your legs.

The second his fingers brush over your clit, your whole body tenses again, only to relax almost instantly as he starts rubbing teasing circles. You whimper, legs trembling, hardly competent to hold yourself up, and Jihoon groans into your skin, feeling the way you melt even more against him.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathes, his voice raspy in your ear. “Always take me so well… fuck… so tight, baby… you feel that? You’re clenching around me.”

You don’t say anything, just a soft gasp escapes your lips, your head falling back further onto his shoulder, exposing the column of your throat to him. His fingers quicken their pace, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, every brush of his thumb over your swollen clit making you cry out.

“I know I fucked up,” Jihoon whispers, his forehead still pressed to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. "But I can’t stop… I can’t stop thinking about you. About this. About how good you feel around me.”

Your chest heaves with each breath, your thighs trembling uncontrollably as his hand continues working you, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you tighter, anchoring you to him. His fingers press harder against your clit, drawing tight circles that make your whole body twitch, every nerve ending alive and buzzing.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, his voice dipping into that familiar, filthy tone, the one that drives you insane. “Cum for me… I know you’re close. I can feel it. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

You’re so close, your vision blurring as the heat in your core builds higher. Your body’s completely given in to him, to the way he’s fucking you deep and hard while his fingers expertly play with your clit, not giving you a single moment of respite.

And then it hits, hard and fast. Your back arches, body tensing as the orgasm rips through you, ripple after ripple of pleasure crashing over you as your pussy clenches tight around him. Your hands reach back, desperately grabbing at anything—his hair, his arms—trying to ground yourself as you moan out his name, breathless and trembling.

Jihoon groans at the feeling, his cock throbbing inside you as your walls pulse around him. “Fuck… that’s it,” he rasps, his hand slowing its movements on your clit, letting you ride out your high. He’s still buried deep inside you, his cock twitching, and he watches in the mirror as your body shudders against his.

He doesn’t pull out. Instead, he shifts you forward, placing you on all fours again, his hands steadying you as he lines himself up once more. His hand slides down to your ass, pushing your bikini bottom further to the side so he can watch as your tight puffy walls flutter around him.

Without delay, he starts thrusting again, his pace slow but deep, watching as your body tenses, clenching around him every time he sinks in.

Jihoon lets out a series of the neediest, whiniest moans you've ever heard from him, and it hits you differently—vulnerable, like you’ve broken through every layer he keeps guarded.

Then he sinks in fully and stops.

You slouch forward, your whole body going limp as you brace yourself on your forearms. You feel him pressed against your back, the warmth of his skin sticking to yours as his breath hitches in your ear.

And then it fills you—heat as his cum spurts deep inside you. Hot, thick, and it has you crying out, your voice breaking as your body quakes beneath him. You can feel every pulse of his cock as he fills you up, making your insides feel impossibly full.

Your back trembles under his weight, every muscle in your body quivering as his release continues to flood you. Your pussy clenches around him involuntarily, trying to milk every last drop from him, and it only makes him groan louder.

“Shit,” Jihoon breathes, his voice a wrecked, breathy mess as he leans forward, his forehead pressing into the back of your neck. His hands grip your hips tightly, like he’s using you to anchor himself through the intensity of his orgasm. “Fuck… you feel s'good.”

Your head drops onto your forearm, unable to do anything but take it all in. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, a warm, slick sensation as it mixes with the water around your thighs. Your legs are shaking, your core aching, but you don’t want him to pull out, you want to stay like this, to feel him deep inside you just a little longer.

Jihoon’s breathing finally starts to slow, his body still pressed flush against yours as his arms snake around your waist, holding you tight. You hum softly in response, his cum continues to spill out, and you can feel every slow drip as your pussy flutters, trying to recover from the relentless pounding he just gave you.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to glance down at the sight of your trembling back. A soft smirk tugs at his lips as he watches how your body reacts to him, still sensitive, still on edge. “Look at you,” he whispers, his tone soft but teasing. “You’re still shaking. Did I fuck you that good?”

You don’t answer him; just let out a shaky breath. Your body is completely spent, and you can narrowly keep yourself upright. Jihoon chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to your damp skin before pulling out slowly, the loss of him leaving you feeling empty and aching. The last bit of his cum leaks out of you as he does, and he watches, fascinated, as it mixes with the water beneath you.

He moves to your side, pulling you into his chest, his hands rubbing gentle circles on your back as you both come down from the high.

Jihoon gently lifted you from the jacuzzi, his hands steady as he wrapped a robe around your body, drying you with care. His touch was soft, and the tension between you started to ease with each moment. He laid you down on the bed with tenderness, his eyes flickering with a mix of concern and regret.

As he stepped away to quickly clean himself up, you could feel the weight of his emotions lingering in the air. When he returned, Jihoon slid into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his warmth pressing against your skin. His embrace was tight but comforting, as though he was trying to hold on to more than just the moment.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was barely above a whisper, yet the sincerity in it was undeniable. He rested his forehead gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet space between you. "Please forgive me."

You could feel the vulnerability in his words, a side of Jihoon that he rarely showed.

You lay there in his arms, feeling the tension in his body slowly release as he held you close. His apology lingered in the air, filled with emotion you hadn’t heard from him before. For a moment, everything was quiet—the warmth of his skin, the sound of your breathing, and the beating of his heart against yours.

Jihoon pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness. His brows furrowed, and he seemed almost afraid of what you might say. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek, the familiar sensation calming you both.

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you whispered, the weight of the past argument starting to lift. “But it’s hard sometimes, Jihoon. You get so lost in your work…”

He nodded, the regret still heavy in his gaze. "I know. I promise I'll do better. I can't stand the thought of losing you, or pushing you away."

His words tugged at your heart, and you could see how much he meant it. There had always been that side of him—driven, focused, and dedicated—but sometimes it made him forget everything else. Still, here he was, trying, apologizing, and making the effort to put you first.

Without saying anything, you leaned in, closing the distance between you, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss. Jihoon sighed against your mouth, relief and gratitude flooding through him as he deepened the kiss, his arms tightening around you as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads touched again, both of you breathing a little more steadily now.

“I forgive you,” you said softly. His eyes brightened at your words, and you felt the tension finally melt away completely. Jihoon smiled, a rare, gentle one that you didn’t see often enough, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pulling you closer again, as though he couldn’t get enough of having you in his arms.

*

Jihoon sighed deeply as he glanced around your living room, cluttered with bags and boxes of things you'd bought earlier that day. His eyes scanned the array of items before he asked, half-jokingly, “Is it even possible to empty my bank account in a single day?”

You smiled, shaking your head as you tried to ease his worry. “Don’t stress. I can sell them all on the marketplace. They’ll be gone in two days, tops. I promise.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow and picked up one item that particularly caught his attention—a pair of leopard-printed underwear for men. He held it up with a bemused expression, “Leopard print... for me?”

You grinned mischievously, “Yup! Oh, and I got you the hot pink one, too. Thought you’d look great in it.”

Jihoon groaned, his face a mix of amusement and disbelief. “You know it was a joke when everyone said i wear these kind of panties, right? There’s no way I’d ever wear these.”

You crossed your arms, stepping closer with a playful smirk on your face. “Oh, I can make you wear them,” you teased, your tone light but daring.

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your grin widening. “I have my ways. Just wait until you see how good you look in them.”

He rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re impossible.”

You stepped even closer, standing on your toes to whisper in his ear, “You’ll thank me later.”

Jihoon’s laughter filled the room as he pulled you into a hug, shaking his head. “You never give up, do you?”

“Never,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. "And trust me, you’ll look amazing in leopard print."

With a defeated sigh, Jihoon gave you one more playful glare, “Fine. But don’t think this means I’m wearing the hot pink ones too.”

“We’ll see about that,” you replied, your voice full of challenge and laughter as you leaned into his embrace.

[fluffiematcha]

woozi x fem. reader ( est. relationship ) comfort, a pinch of fluff.

warnings : mention of a fall, not proofread.

jihoon hears the emergency ringtone he set up for important calls. he reaches out to grab his phone and immediately sees your id on his screen. thinking something bad has happened, he picks up right away on the second ring. “what's up babe?” he asks, worry can be heard in his voice.

“umm... are you familiar with the britney spears' classic oops i did it again?” your voice sounded fearful, unsure. and it worried him a little more. “why are you asking such a question? what happened?”

“uh... i... i may have damaged your headphones again while cleaning the studio. i swear i didn't do it on purpose!!!” he can hear how your voice is so fearful and hesitant and it breaks his heart.

“i– i slipped, and while trying to catch myself by grabbing the desk, i dragged the headphones down with me in my fall. and it, i don't know, it crashed with a really loud noise.”

“i'm so sorry!” your voice fades a little at the end and it overwhelms him with sadness that you make yourself so small, that you think headphones are more important to him than you are, his long-life partner — well, you're not officially at that stage yet but it will come one day, soon.

after a few seconds of silence, you finally hear his voice filled with worry. “you didn't hurt yourself did you?”

“uh, no. i’m fine. not even a scratch.” you sound so confused, unsure of what you should feel right now. jihoon's heart sinks to the deepest abyss of sadness. still, he feels relieved that you're okay. “that's good then.”

“uh? but what about your headphones?”

“babe, i can always buy myself new ones. you are what matters most to me.”

“so, you're okay?” he asks a second time, just to be sure and to reassure himself.

“yes i am.”

“good, i'll be home by eight. see you soon babe.”

“see you soon yeah.”

he's about to hang up but decide to add some thought. “and babe, remember, you mean more to me than these gadgets, okay?”

“okay.” hearing your voice clear with joy, hearing your smile warms his heart.

he will have to think about finding the root of this fear that you have but for today, he will just come back to you at the time he promised.

okay, so this was something i got out of watching “the rookie”, dont know if you guys know the show. I hope it wasn't so terrible. take care!