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backseat serenade
<mingi x fem!reader>
Getting stuck in the backseat of your friend’s car after a night out with your drunk friends wasn’t how you thought of ending the night, especially not on Mingi’s lap.
Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, forced proximity, technically exhibitionism but not because no one ends up noticing, fingering, light choking and wrist pining, riding, cream pies, orgasms, something is going on in the backseat…, furcoat mingi
word count: 3.3K (what the fucK)
a/n: y'all be eating fucking good fr. Also shout out to my loml @bro-atz for helping out with the plot a little <3 shout out to mingi brain rot!
taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @woojirang @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @voicesinmyhead-rc @woojirang @wlv-asteria @jjoongstar @comicnerd557 or @kpopwrites @vic0921
networks: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet
“Who else is here?” You ask.
She shrugs. “My boyfriend and a couple of his friends. You know them.” Well, you’ve definitely met a couple of your friend’s boyfriend’s friends before. Your eyes scan the crowd and sure enough, you spot familiar faces.
And then your eyes rest on a particular male—his hair dyed platinum and slicked back, already drawing attention because of his height alongside his fur coat that hung over his shoulders. You never thought someone could pull off a fur coat that well actually. A pair of glasses sits on his nose bridge, which seems to somehow accentuate how sharp his eyes are. He’s been on your radar since he appeared on a mutual friend’s Instagram.
“He’s pretty cute isn’t he?”, your friend’s date pushes, lightly bumping his arm against yours.
You cast him a glance. “Just surprised that there are people who still wear fur coats in this economy.”
“That’s-“
“Song Mingi”, you reply, not taking notice of your friend’s boyfriend’s surprised expression.
“You know him?”
“Came across him”, you reply a little too quickly. You sure as hell were not about to spill the truth.
He definitely looks and is intimidating for sure, especially when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice so low that it tickles your ears. You could hear him talk forever, you think. You could imagine how he moans in your ears.
You blink. The fuck?
And so, for the past hour or so, you’ve been stealing glances at the blond male, but unfortunately, there was only so much staring could do, and it was not helping you get the male’s attention. Sure, the both of you actually followed each other (you were surprised when he followed you back), and the way he liked your stories sometimes made your stomach grow butterflies, but you never actually interacted with him in real life.
It wasn’t until the party was slowing down, when you came back from being distracted by another friend, was when you realise Mingi was gone. A ping of disappointment fills you up, but it’s not as horrendous as the feeling of regret—for not just going up to talk to him. You wonder when you’ll see him again.
You decide to find your friend and call it a night.
“Do you wanna hitch a ride with us?”, your friend asks, uselessly trying to balance herself, her partner holding onto her waist.
“The driver didn’t drink, I promise”, your friend’s partner assures.
You open the car door and your eyes widen when you spot Mingi.
You whip your head to your friend to ask her sincewhen Mingi came with the friend group but you realise you wouldn’t be getting any concrete answers from a tipsy person.
You glance back at the male donned in the maroon fur coat, who seems rather surprised when he sees that you were the one who opened the car door.
But Mingi’s expression remains indifferent—god knows what he’s thinking about but you swore you saw a tint of something in his eyes when your friends told you to just sit on his lap because “the car had no space”.
“Hi, y/n”, Mingi’s deep voice calling your name is kept in a bottle and stored at the back of your head.
“Hey Mingi”, you greet back, cautiously approaching him.
“Are you okay with this?” You ask, testing the waters by putting your weight on his left thigh.
“It’s fine. I’m just worried that it’s gonna be uncomfortable for you since it’s gonna take a while to reach your place right?”
Right. You nod in defeat.
Your body jolts slightly when you feel Mingi’s touch burn against your skin—especially your thighs.
His friend on the passenger seat has the aux cord and he’s picked out a song to blast in the speakers. You feel goosebumps bloom across the nape of your neck when Mingi’s voice hits your ear from behind.
“Sorry, you might need to move in a little more, Princess. We have three more squeezing with us at the back.”
You blink, processing the information before internally thanking the universe that the car is dark so the red flushing against your cheeks gets hidden.
Soon you find yourself fully on Mingi’s lap, and although you try not to lean too much against him, you realise the position feels awkward, and when Mingi personally shifts you with his hands instead, you decide to stay put.
The energy in the car is high, even after all that partying, which you easily deduce to be due to the alcohol. Unfortunately, you couldn’t be singing along at the top of your lungs, not when you’re subconsciously aware that Mingi is just behind you.
Sitting on someone’s lap was definitely not as comfortable as sitting on a car seat, and that was a given, so you find yourself shifting constantly, not realising Mingi closing his fists every time your ass shifts against him, particularly his crotch.
Suddenly you feel the weight below you shift. Mingi’s arm wraps around your waist, his weight pressing against you. You stay put the moment you feel his lips barely inches away from the shell of your ear.
“I strongly suggest you try to stay still, y/n, or it’ll become a problem for the both of us.”
You turn your head slightly, barely enough to capture him within your peripherals. At first, you wonder if you’re starting to annoy him, but when you feel his hands slide down to your thighs and something hard pressing against your ass, you get your answer.
And you wonder how far you should take this.
Your face is heating up, at the idea you’re just sitting on Mingi’s thick erection, separated by the fabric of his pants and the ridiculously thin fabric of your body con dress. You wonder about his size, which only gets more vivid since you’re literally sitting right on his fucking cock—how thick he would be, how much he would stretch you open, and it’s making you slowly drench your panties.
The more his erection is blatantly pressing against you, the more you can’t help but fidget on his lap. You’re wondering why Mingi hasn’t said anything, you wonder if he even felt it at all. The moment that thought forms in your brain, you pick out what sounded like low groans from behind you. Then you feel Mingi’s fingers press against your bare thighs, just this fucking close to lifting your dress.
Mingi shifts against you, his hard cock now even more prominent against your ass—directly below your pussy if it wasn’t for the fact that there were layers of annoying fabric keeping them apart.
His deep voice is like a melody in your ear, “I’m closing an eye if you’re just doing this on accident, but there’s only so much more grinding I can take princess.”
You glance over to the company seated just right beside you—they are still singing their hearts out thanks to the self-assigned DJ of the car. The music was still blasting, and you realise you and Mingi are slowly forming another world—one growing of hot and heavy air.
You’re trying to weigh your options and risks, but the constant friction of Mingi’s cock just poking you through his pants mixed with the light buzz from the alcohol earlier is keeping you less than logical.
You lean back, the back of your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the thick coat tickle your cheeks, taking in the scent of his cologne that you swear only he could pull off, the boldness rushing into your veins like adrenaline.
“And if I said it wasn’t an accident?”
You don’t know what he might do next, but it’s making your legs tremble by the second. Your clit is fucking throbbing from the sheer anticipation.
Mingi’s eyes dart to glance at you while his head remains positioned straight, before he presses himself onto you with a smirk against your ears, “Right. Glad we cleared that up, princess.”
His hands press on the sides of your throat, two fingers tipping your jaw to turn your head to face him as he clashes his lips against yours, and you’re ready for him to just take whatever the fuck you have left. You’re doing your best to muffle your moans through the kisses, but as every second passes, you’re ready to give into it—mostly scream his fucking name into the night at this point.
Your eyes are so glazed out, your pussy throbbing and drenched, your mind so sexually frustrated the more Mingi keeps you waiting. Mingi’s fingers trail along your bare thighs, his legs forcing yours to stay open, easily letting the gather of your dress push upwards, while his fingers push your panties to the side. You hear him mutter fuck when your wet cunt drenches his fingers. He barely drags his fingers over your clit, yet you already feel like you’re about to burst.
“Are you gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me?” Mingi asks, sinking his gaze into yours. You swallow hard and nod, so fucking entranced by his sharp eyes behind the glasses, and alongside the fact that his fingers are rubbing circles on your clit.
“Fuck me. You’re so fucking wet for me”, he hisses, eating up your moans as he fits his thick fingers into your pussy, filling you up instantly. Oh god. You feel your mind completely blank out at the sensation of Song Mingi stretching you out.
You swear that the wet sounds of Mingi’s fingers fucking your sopping cunt were louder than the music, but for some reason, and thank fuck, no one else seemed to notice. Yet.
His other hand clasps over your mouth as he watches your eyes roll back, your desperate and satisfied moans muffled every time his thumb presses against your clit while his fingers fill you up again and again.
You shouldn’t have agreed to stay quiet.
Mingi’s legs are strong as fuck because his knees keep your legs from snapping shut as you let the feeling build in your stomach. Your hips are involuntarily bucking against his fingers, craving for him to fuck his fingers deeper. Shit. You can’t seem to get enough. He releases his hand off your mouth for a while, letting it wander to your tits, rolling your nipples over your dress with his fingers, listening to you pant and whimper.
“Can’t wait to fuck your tight cunt once we get off”, he mutters into your ear, increasing his pressure on your clit.
“Please… fuck! Mingi…” you trail, not even sure what you’re begging for at this point. But the knot tightens hard and taut. You’re about to snap anytime soon.
“Cum on my fingers for me, y/n. Show me how your cunt is gonna feel like when my cock is gonna stuff you full.”
His hand goes back to clamping over your mouth to muffle your cries while your orgasm rips through your body. Your eyes roll back, and your back arched against his abdomen, the pleasure spreading through every nerve while he’s still fucking you with his fingers, enjoying the way you’re completely undone because of him. Your cunt can’t seem to stop spasming and it’s only from his fucking fingers.
But it slowly wears off, and he releases his hand from your mouth, letting you catch your breath.
His fingers slowly leave your spent and creamy cunt, and for a split second, you’re almost disappointed. You turn your head, watching Mingi slide his stained fingers past his lips, licking them clean, and his eyes locked onto you.
“You taste so fucking good, Princess”, he whispers, before his hands are on your throat again, pulling you in for a wet kiss, and you taste yourself on his tongue, your face heating up at his words once more.
The split second you pull away from him is when the music stops, and you hear your name being called.
“Y/n!”
Your eyes widen, and Mingi lowers his knees, letting you quickly shut your legs, letting his arm rest close to your legs, blocked by his fur coat. Thank fuck you’re in the dark.
“This is your stop right?” Your friend asks before she turns on the interior car lights. You glance at the apartment building and sure enough, it is your apartment building.
“Right”, you manage to answer with a forced smile.
And as you are about to leave the car, Mingi suddenly announces, “I’ll send her up. Don’t wait for me.” He takes off his fur coat, draping it over your shoulders, quickly turning away as he pushes the car door open, ignoring the suggestive looks his group of friends were giving him before curtly saying his goodbyes and shutting the car door.
Mingi is pretty much gentle with you as the both of you head up to your apartment, asking if you’re feeling cold, even though he’s only in a black tank top. You can’t help but gawk at how he looks even under shitty elevator lights—still so fucking hot. His fingers haven’t let go of yours yet since the both of you left the car, and he sure isn’t letting you go when the both of you reach to the door of your apartment.
You feel so ridiculous in this oversized fur coat, but the fact that Mingi’s smell is just all over it makes you turn a blind eye to it.
You unlock the door, pushing it open, the post nut clarity hitting, but the realisation of Mingi in a private space with you sending you mind into the gutter.
And suddenly you feel your cunt throb again. Fuckin hell.
“Cute place you have there”, he comments, slipping his shoes off.
“I try to make the most out of it��, you return, taking off the fur coat, handing it back to him.
Mingi pauses, staying near the door.
“I got no clue why I left the car like that, y/n. If you want me to leave, I can just call a cab and-“
His mouth runs, watching the way you’re walking towards him, and his lips snap shut when you pull him in for an open mouth kiss, his thoughts completely disappearing like they never existed.
“Finish what you started, Minki”, you whisper when you pull away.
For once, you like the way red looks on his pretty face, the red that disappears when he catches on, eye fucking you while thinking how fucking hot you look under normal apartment lights than the dim lights.
His hands cup the back of your neck before his fingers are on your scalp, tugging your hair to face him, letting his lips collide with yours. You taste him so much more intensely now, and fuck does he taste like heaven.
You feel his hands leave your head, going for your wrists instead, and he backs you up against the wall, deciding to pin your fucking wrists against the wall while stealing all of the oxygen you have left in between pants.
His fingers trail down so lightly across your skin, you feel like you’re about to combust.
“Is the couch fine for you?” He asks. You nod, just internally begging him to do anything to you.
His hands slip down to your thighs, carrying you up in his arms, kissing and sucking against the skin of your neck while he navigates through your apartment. When he does find the couch (rather quickly), he lets you fall onto it, watching the way your dress rides up higher to your hips, your soaked panties coming into view, and his cock growing hard once more.
“You know, you’re honestly killing me with that dress”, Mingi comments, his fingers tugging off your drenched panties, almost salivating over your glistening cunt. “Had to hold back from just pulling you out and fucking you.”
Oh, fucking gods.
“That’s why we’re here now, aren’t we?” You tease, watching his satisfied grin grow bigger.
You can’t wait for him to fuck your brains out.
Mingi squats, letting his face press against your bare cunt, giving licks up, his tongue pressing against your clit while holding your legs apart. He thinks your whimpers and begs are like a fucking symphony—and he could listen to them over and over again while he breaks you, over and over again.
It doesn’t last long, unfortunately, because he feels like he’s about to burst the longer he waits, his cock bulging against the fabric of his pants.
So Mingi unbuckles his pants, pushing them down along with his underwear, his thick and long cock springs from his apparel, wet and decorated in thick precum. He gives himself quick strokes, amused by the way your face is turning a soft shade of pink.
His thick fingers once again hold your wrists above you, lining his cock up to your pretty hole and pushing himself in, his girth taking up all space instantly. You see stars splatter beneath your eyelids as his cock stretches you out—thick and heavy.
“Fuck. Song Mingi-“ you cry out, struggling against his grasp.
“So fuckin tight, princess. Fuck, you feel so fucking good”, he sighs, letting himself bottom out in you, relishing in the way your face completely contorts into pleasure when he’s fully seated in you.
And when he starts fucking you, your eyes roll back—the feeling of his cock pumping in and out of you switching off most of your senses.
You sense his arms pining your wrists are growing tired, so you do your best to tap his arm, and Mingi lets go, watching you slide his wrist down to your throat.
You sure know how to push his buttons.
He applies pressure and it hits all the perfect spots. A choked moan escapes you while he fucks you dumb.
“I’d love to choke you more, princess, but I really need you to ride me right now”, Mingi whispers, his fingers leaving your throat, and he pulls his cock out.
You climb onto his lap, lining his cock before you push yourself down, his fullness knocking the wind out of you once more.
“Are you gonna take all of my cum like a good girl?” He hums, wiping away the tears from your eyes. You nod weakly, biting your lip.
“That’s my good girl”, he compliments, and it makes your heart fucking soar. Mingi bounces you on his cock, groaning at the way you’re squeezing around him. “Fuck, squeeze me just like that. God, your pussy feels so fucking amazing, princess.”
“Mingi, I’m so close. Oh fuck I’m gonna-“
Mingi only holds your thighs down, watching you shake, feeling your cunt just clenching down and flutter on his cock, cream seeping down his shaft, and he groans in your ear, keeping himself deep in your pussy, his thick cum flooding into your tight cunt, listening to you curse while he forces you to ride out your high.
“So fucking good. Mingi…” you mutter through tears and hiccup, letting Mingi kiss your tears before he slowly pulls his wet cock out of you, satisfied at the way his cum slowly trickles out of you while you catch your breath.
Mingi waits for your mind to slowly clear, and you climb off him, but your fingers stay interlocked with his.
“We can wash up and order food if you want”, you say, trying to avoid the fact that you’re still flushing slightly considering Song Mingi made a wreck out of you.
But he pulls you along with him.
“An invitation to shower together? I’ll gladly fuckin take it, princess.”
#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez smut#smut#ateez fic#kpop smut#mingi#song mingi#song mingi ateez#song mingi smut#mingi ateez#mingi x y/n#mingi scenarios#mingi x reader#mingi smut#ateez mingi#atz#cultofdionysusnet#atzhouse#cromernet
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to taint your soul — choi san
in which apparently even the daughter of an exorcist is not safe from the corruption of an incubus.
incubus!choi san x exorcist’s daughter!fem!reader. genre. smut, angst, southern gothic vibes. warnings. barely any plot, religious themes, religious guilt, swearing, explicit sexual content mdni, corruption, loss of virginity, masturbation (f.), referenced dacryphilia, fingering, referenced oral (f.), manhandling?, multiple orgasms, rough and gentle, big dick!san, creampie, marking, nicknames (angel, pretty girl, sweet girl, sweetheart). wc. 7.3k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. i should do more mythological characters!ateez cuz i enjoyed writing this and the lamb and the wolf. the demonology book/text here is partially from The Encylopedia of Demons and Demonology by Rosemary Ellen Guiley, but i made up some parts for the sake of the story. THIS FIC DOES NOT REPRESENT ANY OF MY OPINIONS AND I DO NOT INTEND TO OFFEND ANYONE.
listening to. burning desire, lana del rey // gibson girl, ethel cain // lilies, ethel cain & mercy necromancy // ptolemaea, ethel cain // heaven, taemin
masterlist.
you were cursed from the moment you were born.
the idea of being cursed or haunted by anything isn’t one you think about often, considering yourself protected by your father’s profession. at least one dusty bible on every bookshelf in the colonial monstrosity that is your home and crucifixes hung all around, it seems to be common sense that an exorcist’s home would be the safest place to hide from the dark.
unaware of it all, you used to let yourself be tucked into your lace-trimmed bedsheets as he pulled you to sleep with stories. tales of fallen angels and possessed souls became the lullabies of your childhood. admittedly, you were quite terrified of it all, but as you grew older and wiser, you realised there was no way they could get to you. but really, it was wishful thinking.
you weren’t aware of who your father used to be, nor were you aware of the debt he owed to a particular demon.
the dreams started the night after your twentieth birthday, vivid and unsettling. a man haunted them, equally as terrifying as he was handsome. tall and clad in dark silks, his whispered words and hungry eyes intrigued you. his touch, though a figment of your imagination, sent shivers down your spine, foreign yet infinitely alluring. you’d wake up with a jolt, panting, flushed cheeks and tingling skin as the dream stuck to you like cobwebs. your father passed the repeated dreams off as nightmares and you failed to notice the flash of fear cross his features.
one night, however, you were changing in your room. dimly illuminated by multiple candles you set around since you didn’t like how bright the large chandelier was, you held a dress in each of your hands, standing in front of the mirror as you held the clothing to your body in an attempt to figure out what to wear. you didn’t notice at first, but a figure lurked in the shadows of the bedroom. you didn’t notice the shift in the atmosphere or the flicker of the candles.
but soon, a soft sigh sounded through the room, so soft it could’ve been mistake for a whistling breeze outside your window. goosebumps prickled at your skin as you tensed, refusing to move at the oddly human sound. staring at yourself in the mirror intently, you caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the reflection of your mirror. your breath hitched as you fixed your eyes on him, afraid that if you blinked, he’d disappear.
you watched him. watched him take slow steps towards you as he smirked at the sight of your wide, fearful yet infinitely pure and innocent eyes. you convinced yourself you were hallucinating, the disturbingly realistic sounds of his footsteps as much of a figment of imagination as his being. but as he stood right behind you, a coldness swept over your skin and you flinched as his breath fanned against your bare shoulder. whipping around in surprise, you yelped softly at the sensation. but he was gone, and you were alone. breath erratic and eyes stinging, you scrambled to move a wooden cross stand from the top of your dresser to your bedside table.
after that you grew paranoid, always looking over your shoulder, sleeping with at least two safe and reliable candles lit. each time you walked through the hallways of your own home, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to look at the portraits lining the dark walls as you thought they were watching you. the tiniest of sounds made you flinch and break a sweat, squeezing your eyes shut and muttering prayers, only to find out the sound came from either of your parents.
the constant state of fear and anxiety left you tired, deciding if your father wasn’t going to do anything about it, you would. on quiet feet, you crept through the halls at noon (you were too scared to go to that room at night), a rosary wrapped around your hand with a dainty little cross hanging from your clenched palm.
you father really was a well-known exorcist, often to go on trips within and beyond the country to treat what doctors couldn’t; demonic possessions. as a symbol of his successes and a means to prevent others from coming in contact with whatever a demon may have attached itself to, he brought home trophies and locked them in a little storage room in the basement. of course, he took many precautions—crucifixes all over the inside and outside, sprinkles of holy water here and there, he’d have your local priest come over and bless the area himself. despite all this, you never once stepped in, partially because your father advised you not to, mostly because you were completely and utterly terrified.
as you descended the creaking wooden stairs, a chill ran through you, the hairs at your nape standing in alert. maybe you were scaring yourself more than the room scared you. the dust tickled your nostrils, making you force down a sneeze as you cleared your throat. the wooden floorboards extended into a narrow hallway, lined by cobblestone walls. you rarely came down, in fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you were there, the surroundings seeming so foreign. there were only two doors, one leading to a storage closet and the other to a slightly scarier storage closet.
you stared up at the ominous door, standing tall and intimidating, a golden cross embossed right in the centra, doorknob dark and rusted. with shaky hands, you fished a copper from the hidden pocket of your plaid gown. it half-hearted a few sloppy attempts until you got the key in, squeezing your eyes shut as you force yourself to finally turn it.
another chill ran through your body as you push the door open weakly, cracking an eye open to look inside. had you come at night, you wouldn’t have been able to see anything, the only source of light being an elongated shirt window lining the top of the right wall, an inch below the ceiling. three shelves. one on the right, one of the left, and one down the middle of the room. the middle and left one were lined with various objects. you walked between them, looking but not daring to touch. the objects were quite diverse, you realised. dolls, clocks, little statues.
you took your time to get to the shelf you needed. along with these objects, you father also locked away any books he had that were related to demons in any way. most of them were confiscated from cults, some of their were from his personal collection. he claimed they were to protect you, and you didn’t completely disbelieve him. taking a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh, looking at all the titles. your fingertips ran over their leather bound spines, feeling the wrinkles and grooves. you knew there would be a lot, but as you looked upon the entire shelf, you estimated a good hundred-fifty books.
he organised them by categories. summoning, excommunication, identifying. identifying. that’s what you needed. you took a closer look at the section, nervousness fading briefly to be replaced by a faint taste of hope.
the encyclopaedia of demons and demonology.
deciding there had to be something in there, you pulled it out. the book itself was simple, bound in black leather. the cover was nothing special, just the title and author. by the looks of it, you’d be here for a while, seemingly at least three hundred pages long. you looked around the dark room, a small wooden desk was tucked into the corner though not a chair in sight. with a soft sigh, you walked over on weak knees, apprehensive about what you’d find in the book.
despite your father’s profession and all the bedtime stories, you never came in contact with demons or the spirit world. setting the book on the desk, you opened it to the index, having to squint to make out the text. but the next time you lifted your eyes off the page, a brass candle holder was tucked into the corner of the table.
you blinked. there was no way that was there before, but maybe you had just missed it. the pale yellow candle stood half melted, the hardened wax forming veins that ran down the sides and pooled in the brass bowl.
you held your breath momentarily before beginning to read through the a to z list of demons and other dark entities and their descriptions. you only skimmed, lingering on any that mentioned appearing in nightmares only to dismiss them when the rest of their descriptions didn’t match with your experience. surprised by just how much there was to read, you felt just a little curious, occasionally stopping to read extracts that had piqued your interest. it wasn’t until you got all the way to section i where something actually seemed to be helpful.
‘incubus—a lewd male demon who pursues women for sex. the incubus and his female counterpart, the succubus, visit women and men in their sleep, lie and press heavily upon them, and seduce them.’
you nearly missed it, continuing your skimming until the description registered, scrambling to turn back the page and reread it.
“oh.” you breathed at the realisation. that seemed to be the most accurate thus far, your finger tracing over the name as you furrowed your eyebrows and continued reading. the next paragraphs detailed how they’re conjured and where the name came from. you read some more.
‘incubi are especially attracted to women with beautiful hair, young virgins, chaste widows, and all “devout” females. nuns are among the most vulnerable and could be molested in the confessional as well as in bed. while the majority of women are forced into sex by the incubi, some of them submit willingly and even enjoy the act. it once was a common belief that women were more likely than men to be the sexual victims of demons, because women were inferior to men and less able to resist temptation.
incubi have enormous phalluses that—’
slamming the book shut, your eyes widened and a deep blush settled over your features, just staring at the cover for a moment as you collected yourself from the sudden vulgarity of the writing. after a moment, you cleared your throat and reopened the page, strategically skipping over the next paragraphs that detailed accounts of intercourse with such a demon.
‘an incubus may form attachments to those whose minds are occupied with dark and inherently sexual desires, those that are impure. one also can be summoned for coital gratifications, or a deal in which one’s first born is ommonly offered to repay their sevices (see: dealing with the demons, page 218).’
but that couldn’t be right. you always made sure to be a good girl, always helped at home. you volunteered to read to children at a local orphanage, always helped with charities and donations, always assisted people where you knew you could, stayed soft spoken and always began your requests with please and ended them with thank you. you kept to yourself most of the time, would never dare to raise your voice at anyone, never had any romantic interest, let alone sexual ones.
admittedly, the dreams involving the man— the demon had you waking up with an uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs. but before that, you never indulged. after that, you never indulged either, instead jumping from your bed and taking an ice could bath to calm yourself from the strange feeling. the temptations were always there and were always strong, but your want to be immaculate was stronger. to be free of sin.
a deal in which one’s first born is offered.
it seemed impossible, almost. you knew your father was a righteous man and your mother a pure woman. but where your mother happily shared stories of her childhood as heart-warming anecdotes, your father only dropped tidbits of his memories despite considering you two to be extremely close. you always chalked it up to him being a little boring or generally not very open. but maybe there was more to it…
“there you go, sweetheart.”
you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, pushing the book away from you as you turned around a little too quickly, your knee knocking against the edge of the table.
there he stood, barely illuminated by the singular window as he took slow steps towards you much like the other day.
“so, you’ve finally figured it out, huh?”
each time he took a step, his muscles visible through the loose black silk, you inched away until the top of your thigh hit the wooden table, your hands bracing themselves on it to keep you from collapsing in fear. the closer he got, the more you realised just how attractive he was. broad-shouldered and radiating confidence, his feline eyes roamed over your figure. depite wearing a white gown that reached all the way down to your ankles, you felt so exposed.
tongue swiping along his bottom lip, drawing your attention to the action. he towered over you, making you feel weak and small as he trapped you against the table. your heart pounded against your ribcage and you feared it would break free and fall into his hands, unsure if the warmth on your cheeks and ump in your throat came from how utterly petrified you were or the way his breath fanned over your face like a whisper.
“your dearest father isn’t who he says he is,” he pouted mockingly, coming to a stop inches in front of you, letting his gaze settle on your quivering lips for a moment, “and me? well, you know what i am. and you also know we can have lots of fun if you allow it.”
your lips parted to speak but no words came out, instead opting to press them into a thin line and squeezing your eyes shut as you shook your head. you weren’t completely sure why you wer shaking your head, but if it would stop the incubus from tainting you, it was worth a try.
“don’t kid yourself, princess. i can smell how wet you are.” as if to emphasise his point, he inhaled deeply, leaning forward to ghost his nose over the slope of your neck without touching you.
it wasn’t until he said it that you notice you had been squeezing your thighs together, feeling warm all over and you stomach twisted in knots at the sound of his deep voice. something ached in your lower regions, but you tried your hardest to resist the thoughts.
but a little voice in the back of your head urged you to tilt your head back, to give him permission, to let his hands explore your untouched body. maybe just this once you could allow yourself to give in, to let your knees go weak and worry about begging for forgiveness later.
“all you have to do is drop the rosary.”
you gripped it tighter at the reminder of the protective object tangled between your fingers, fighting to keep your sanity intact. your breath hitched as you felt one of his fingers run along the beads, not daring to come close to the little silver cross or your skin.
“c’mon, pretty girl. drop it,” you heard the smirk in his voice, “let it go and i’ll take good care of you, i can make you feel things you’ve never thought of… i can make you feel alive, wouldn’t you love that? don’t you want to feel the desire? taste the lust?”
“n-no,” you gasped finally, finding your words, “it’s not right.“
he laughed, a low rumble from his chest, “i promise you’ll love being ruined by me,” he said, withdrawing his hand from yours, “i swear to all your precious little holy symbols, i know i can get you to want me.”
he moved closer and for a maddening moment you thought he was going to kiss you. faintly, you wanted him to. to feel the push of his lips against yours, to let his hands snake around your waist or grip your hips to pull you closer. there’s a ring on his index finger, you noticed, silvery and sharp, a symbol you didn’t recognise yet imagine him pressing it against your throat, branding your neck anew until it’s red and faithful. and maybe you crave for him to undo all the things in you that are holy.
“just drop it, pretty,” his breath teased your lips and you almost leaned forward in curiosity, wanting to see how just one kiss would feel, “i know you’re a good girl.”
those words. they’re almost enough for you to give in. how did he know those would strike a nerve, hit you where he knew it would work? not only did all your efforts ultimately lead to the same goal—purity, goodness—but you couldn’t deny the satisfaction you felt from reassurance. if you were an animal, you’d strive to be the priest’s favourite sacrificial lamb. to hold so very still and to bleed so prettily when the knife final comes down, to be reborn and be chosen all over again.
“don’t you get it?” he whispered, “i live inside you the same way you’re bound to live inside me. we’re a moebius strip, a never ending cycle of a snake eating it’s own tail. maybe it will end in destruction, but that’s your dear father’s doing. mutually assured destruction, maybe; you say yes, i’ll ruin you for everyone else, blacken the wool of your fur coat. you say no to me, i will suffer the consequences of not fulfilling a deal. you wouldn’t want someone to suffer because of you, hm?”
your grip on the rosary loosened and let your eyes finally flutter open. from this proximity, you could see every detail of his face and the image seared into your mind.
something in his eyes darkened as his lips curled, a playful smile, a predatory grin. the way he looked at you made you want to combust into flames, to fall to your knees, you skin rubbed raw on the ground as you beg him to make you feel.
“you don’t look so innocent anymore, you know? you’re docile and sweet, yes, but you’re not as pure as you think you are, there’s a little dirt in your pristine heart, a little lustful stain you can’t erase.”
“y-you’re wrong!” you protested, trying to convince yourself he was lying, “i’m good and i’ve always been good and i always will be good and i will not for the devil’s influence.”
“oh, but i’m not,” he pouted mockingly, moving his head back just an inch, looking down at you, “you’re practically shaking, so close to giving in… you’re the most pious girl here, yet you’re so close to sin, so close to me.”
you opened your mouth to continue your protests but flinched as you heard familiar heavy footsteps, looking up at the little window to see the familiar boots of your father about to enter the house after a long day of work. he was out, casting out malicious spirits and demons, and here you were, about to let one deflower you. the realisation seemingly made you come back to your senses, clenching the roary in your hand once more and looking for a way past him.
but… what would you even do afterwards? confront your father, the town’s devout exorcist, for making deals with the incubus in front of you? would he call you crazy, deny everything and treat you like just another one of his clients?
the footsteps were now above you, you could faintly hear him saying something to your mother though you couldn’t quite make out what it was. you’d never been as afraid of anything as you were of your own father, standing right above you, acting like he hadn’t damned you from the day you were conceived.
as if he could read your thoughts, could sense your panic that was completely unrelated to him, the incubus stepped back. his face was unreadable as his glazed over eyes fixated on you.
“don’t worry, sweet girl, i can wait. the longer you resist, the better it’ll feel when you finally surrender,” he gave you a small smile, different from the previous grins and smirks, as he nodded towards the window, “go.”
you could’ve run away the moment he stepped back, yet you didn’t move until he gave you the permission. you didn’t dwell on that fact as you slipped past him and reached up, shaky hands undoing the latch and opening outwards. you attempted to climb up, your arms burning as you tried lifting yourself, only to give up, panting softly from the effort.
“let me help you.” his voice offered, prompting you to look back at him. the seductive glint in his eyes was no longer there, taking a small step forward. “just… put it down, i promise i’ll help you and leave.”
you stared at him for a long moment. there was something so different in the way he looked at you now, suddenly soft and with good intentions. the voice of your father calling your name snapped you out of your stupor, nodding hurridely as you placed the rosary on the grass outside carefully before turning to look at him.
he gestured for you to turn away, your hands finding your hips as you did. the contact made you breath hitched, despite your layers of clothing between your curves and his hands, your stomach tickled with swarming butterflies as he lifted you up. the heat of his body behind yours distracted you for a moment, taken aback at how real he felt, how human he felt, even as he lifted you with ease.
you braced your forearms on the ground, pulling yourself up the rest of the way as he spoke.
“whisper my name three times, and i’ll be summoned wherever you are, ready to fulfill your needs.”
you stayed quiet for a moment, just sitting on the ground as you looked down at him, now able to see his full face clearning from his proximity to the window. “what’s your name?”
“san,” he smiled, “choi san.”
you loked away, up at your house as your father’s concerned voice called out your name again. “i should get going, but–,” you looked down to thank him, only to find an empty room and a sealed window. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, voiced trailing off, “thank you…”
the first time you touched yourself, it was san you were thinking about.
late at night, your parents fast asleep, a storm ragin outside, but all you could do was think about him. you tried, you really did. you tried to go back in the house and pretend everything was fine, that you had just been on a walk and your flushed face was from the excercise. secretely, all you could think about was him. how you wanted him to show up again—wanted him to make your breath hitch and your heart jump. wanted him to soothe whatever it was that ached inside you; the burn in the pit of your stomach, the spot where your waist met your hips, but most of all between your legs, were it had never ached like this before.
you excused yourself from dinner earlier, went to bed, and tried so desperately to fall asleep. whether it was to forget about it all, or to meet him in your dreams again, you couldn’t tell. you really tried, but haunting thoughts of how his hands held onto you rolled into your mind with images of all the things he could do to you. the raspy lilt of his voice, sometimes soft, sometimes commanding in a way that made your limbs feel like jello at the mere thought of it. his sharp eyes and sharp jaw and such tempting lips. he could have a kind face if he wanted to, yet his toned body, visible and obvious despite trying to hide behind his clothing, screamed sex appeal.
flashes from your previous dreams raced through your mind too. fragments of images where you could feel his hands all over you, his dark hair sticking to his sweat forehead, eyes rolled back from the pleasure he gave himself while you were forced to watch. you never quite gave in in the dreams either.
you tossed and turned in your bed, thighs pressed together so tight you worried you’d have long bruises down your inner thighs the next morning. the new feeling felt much too large for your fragile mind, overwhelming you, making your loose clothes feel suffocating. it wouldn’t leave you alone, wouldn’t let you sleep. mostly because you didn’t want to give the feeling a name, you refused to speak its name, even in your mind, even if it could identify this feeling.
pent-up and strained, coiled into yourself in a foetal position, you could only roll onto your back and let your hand trail down your body, hiking up the long skirt of your nightgown before letting your fingers dip between your thighs, spread at the knees. you let out a shaky gasp as you felt the wetness pooled beneath your undergarments, clamping your other hand over your lips. after feeling around experimentally, your fingers found a quick pace, rubbing over your clit, more desperate than they had ever been. your hand muffled your gasped out moans and whimpers, tears pricking at your eyes—partly from the guilt, mostly from the pleasure. you felt your heart beat all over your body, most of all right below your moistened fingertips.
shaky breaths and muffled needy cries were covered by both your hand and the storm outside your window. if hurts a little, your clit swelling as more and more slick coats it and the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. but you don’t mind the pain, you think you deserve it, because after all, it’s forbidden and it’s not supposed to feel good. san is not supposed to make you feel so good. a demon was the one thing that wasn’t supposed to be on your mind, especially not in this way.
the thought of him made your hand move faster and suddenly your breath was stuttering and your core pulse as you finish quickly, biting down on your lip, hard enough to cut through the skin, to muffle your cries. when you came down from your high, you lay there for a few moments longer, heart racing as you glance at the door to make sure it was still closed. and when you realised what you had just done, shame clouded your lungs as you slipped your fingers out of your panties and raised them to your face.
your hands came away sticky. transparents webs of your pleasure linking your index and middle fingers together as you stared in horror before finally collecting yourself and jumping from your bed to scrub the sin from your hands in your bathroom.
you scrubbed until your fingers turned red and your palms raw, losing sensation from the ice cold water, the guilt sinking deeper and deeper the longer you took to cleanse your body. you hadn’t noticed the tears running down your cheeks until you stared at yourself in the mirror, sniffling and glossy-eyed. your body might be clean, but were you? if you wanted to be immaculate, how could you let yourself do such a thing?
it was his fault, really. him and his midnight eyes and electric touches and words that would drive you to madness, damnation.
you changed your panties and nightgown, burying them in your laundry basket as if you were burying the evidence of a crime. once done, you wanted nothing more than to sink into your bed and fall asleep. but as you stared at what you once thought was comforting, you could only think about your soft whimpers and shaking thighs. so you stripped your bed naked to decorate it anew with clean sheets and blankets and pillows, shoving the previous ones under your bed before finally falling into a deep sleep.
shame followed you like a pest for the next days, unable to properly smile because all you could think about was what you had done. and what you wanted to do. a heavy melancholy washed over you in these days, confining yourself to your room when ou didn’t have to come down for meals. if your parents picked up on it, they didn’t say anything. maybe they knew. what if they know?
maybe they didn’t say anything because they knew about san. perhaps they thought it was fate, that you would give in sooner or later. despite cracking a bit, you stood by your conviction that you wouldn’t, no matter what, summon him.
but… was he really so bad? had you not seen a moment of softness when he helped you? demons were, after all, fallen angels. could it really be so impossible he still had a sprinkle of previous angeilc qualities? silently, you were thankful he hadn’t showed up on his own again. if he did, you were afraid you’d throw away all sense of faith and throw yourself into his arms, let him kiss you and lick you and suck you and bite you and everything in between.
despite all this, despite not wanting to summon him, you couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling weighing you down with each step. it had been there before—before whatever happened in the basement—dragging your seemingly heavy limbs through vacant hallways. but when he touched you, when his fingertips brushed against yours as he touched the shiny black beads of your rosary even though he didn’t mean to, when his hands lifted you into the air and helped you escape, the way he talked to you, his words and tone, that unsettling feeling had been lifted off your shoulders.
you noticed, for a brief moment, when you spent that short amount of time with him, you had no desire to think of god or rules or expectations. even if it was for a split second, it happened, and perhaps that what terrified you the most. just wanted to be, something you hadn’t been allowed for so long.
so when your parents said they’d be out late for some dinner you had no interest in attending, you paced around your room, deep in thought as your typical long nightgown tickled your ankles. millions of thoughts raced through your kind but, at the core, they were all the same. san, san, san. you felt like he had attached himself to your very soul, and you’re not quite sure how it happened.
without thinking, you stopped your pacing, glancing at the crucifix on your bedside table, a reminder. you couldn’t take it anymore, reaching out to take the wooden symbol and hide it in your closet. was it really wrong if it was still there, only trapped behind the wooden double doors, nestled between your skirts and shirts and gowns and gowns? out of sight, you felt less bad about what you were going to do.
your eyes squeezed shut and you did as he told you to, lips parting to whisper his name thrice. almost instantly, a gust of wind blew through your room and you knew there was someone else there with you. your eyes remained shut until you heard footsteps stalking towards you, his familiar voice filling the eerie silence of the room.
“hello, angel,” he grinned, borderline menacing, as he backed you up against your dresser. much like before, you were trapped, the back of your thighs pressed against the wood. only this time, you weren’t afraid, “i knew you’d give in sooner rather than later.”
you didn’t reply, didn’t know how to reply, only breathing shallowly, fingers curling into the edge of your dresser as you glanced from his eyes to his lips repeatedly.
“you need to give me permission, you know,” he chuckled, tilting his head to the side, “there are rules for deals such as these.”
“please.” you breathed, somewhere between a whisper and a needy whine as your round eyes looked up at him so desperately.
as soon as the word left you, his lips were on yours. hungry, devouring you, sucking on your bottom lip like it’s a candy as you can’t help but melt and whimper against him. his hand found your cheek, the touch surprisingly soft compared to the madness of his kisses. your heart rattled against your ribcage like a bird wanting to escape its confines. his saccharine saliva seeped into your mouth as his tongue broke past your lips, running over your teeth and the roof of your mouth as you let him do whatever he wanted.
his hands are all over you and yours are all over him, grabbing at each other because there was no way to get any closer like this. your thoughts, unlike before, are completely quiet, head empty and drunk on the sloppy kisses, mouthfuls of teeth clashing against each other. he was supposed to be gentle, he wanted to be gentle, yet now you’re pressed against the dresser and he’s kissing you hard.
it was wrong, but it felt too good. that was clear from the moment your kisses turn open-mouthed, lips clinging and tongues dancing. you shivered as both his hands held you by your hips once more, lifting you to sit on the edge of the oak furniture, caressing your hips bones through the thin fabric of your dress.
your hands rug at his shirt lightly, a silent plea for him to remove it, wanting to see and feel every inch of his divine body. he complies, separating his lips from your to reach over his shoulder and grip the silky shirt from the back, pulling it over his head, tossing it aside. your hands explore his naked torso, fingernails scratching along his skin as he loses himself in the taste of your kisses.
his hands dragged the long skirt of your gown up your legs, fingers ghosting over the supple skin of your calves and thighs before letting the cloth bunch up at your hips, winding your legs around his waist before lifting you off the dresser. you cling to him the way the thought of him cling to you for so long before this as he carries you. he lays you down gently, your head spinning as he kneeled on the edge of your bed and leaned over you, moving his lips from yours to mouth at your neck.
his hot breaths dance along your skin, across your collarbone, neck, pressing wet kisses down to the fabric covering your chest. you gasped softly as he brushed his teeth against your skin, a reminded that he could really break you if he wanted, but the feel of his lips against the curve of your neck, testing out the waters of your shoulder, made the intimidating thought vanish.
he teases the skin just above your neckline with nibbles that have you throwing your head back with soft whimpers, only encouraging him as his left hand kept one of your legs hitched up against his hips and his right undid the ribbons at the back of your dress. the fabric loosens and slips around, one sleeve falling over your shoulder slightly as he sat you up a little and pulled the dress over your head, discarding it and leaving you in your white ruffled bra and panties.
you’re dizzy, delirious with thirst—for his touch, his kisses, for everything his sharp lips could give you, for him to relieve the ache between your legs. you shiver as you’re left bare, nipples peaking through your bra, undergarments barely hiding your most precious parts. you try covering yourself with shaking arms, despite the little fabric still be there, but his hands move them aside, pulling them to rest on his bare chest. his eyelids flutter for a moment at the contact, your hands so much colder than his.
he leans back to look at your, hand at your back winding around to massage a handful of one breast, watching your breath hitch. “such a pretty girl, and all for me.”
“san…” you whimper aimlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“such an angel,” he teases again, thumb circling over your clothed nipple lightly, grinning at how helpless you looked, “supposedly protected by your father, by god, yet here you are, practically begging for a demon to fuck you.”
he presses himself closer and you can feel the thick and heavy weight of his cock smudge against your core, gasping softly as you eyes roll back, his tip prodding against the fabric covering your sensitive clit. his name falls from your lips once again, like a softly uttered prayer as you back arches. he takes the opportunity to undo the clasp of your bra, slipping the item off you before continuing to tease your perked nipples, leaning down to lick and suck at them as his hips grind against yours. you weren’t sure when he took off his pants, but you didn’t quite care, not when his impressive girth covered your core so well. sometimes the tip would dip into your entrance before leaving just as quickly, your toes curling as it stretched you and your panties.
he moans into your neck, grinding against you at just the right pace, his precum smearing all over you already-drenched panties. the feeling of his tip prodding at you clit so continuously makes you come quickly, and much harder than the other night when you touched yourself. you writhe beneath him, shaking and crying out his name as your back arches from the bed.
“hm, you’re so much prettier like this, angel, succumbing and throwing away any desire of virtue,” he mutters against your jaw, having sucked dark marks onto the skin right below it, his deep melodic voice.
angel. the way he calls you that makes you shiver. how could he do that? call you an angel while plucking out the feathers of the wings you’d once had?
when he enters you, it’s slow and deliberate, leaning down to whisper into your ear as he presses your hands into the white mattress—”heaven itself could not make you feel like this.”
“i’ve never… you know…” you had admitted shyly once you came down from the first orgasm he coaxed out of you.
he only chuckled, caressing your cheek. “i know. virgins always smell the sweetest.”
you pleaded for him to be gentle, and how could he say no when you were begging so prettily? now his length is barely halfway inside you and you’re already shaking, drenched and deprived pussy squeezing him tightly as he swallows down your broken moans, holding back him own. you feel abnormally good to him, unable to remember the last time he fucked such a perfect pussy.
as he reaches previously untouched parts of you, his tip brushes against a spongey little area that has you clenching, your breath hitching followed by a gasped moan as you come again. stars flood your vision, feeling like your body was on fire as your hands tightened under his. his tongue licks up every one of your sounds, smothering you as he pulled back a bit to press against the spot some more.
your moans soon turn into soft whines, twitching from overstimulation before he fially continues to enter you. it’s a tight fit, but he bottoms out eventually.
“fuck- you take me so well, you’re so perfect.” he groans, looking down at where he can see his tip bulging through your stomach.
you never imagined just how full you would feel, the stretch burning yet somehow still pleasurable as you squirm beneath him. he doesn’t wait, retracting and fucking into you slowly, letting you feel every curve and vein of his perfect cock.
he loses track, but he thinks he’s made you finish 4 times already. he’s not surprised, virginity leaves most people sensitive, and the fact he’s been teasing you in and out of your dreams for months likely didn’t help. san revels in it though, basks in the sounds you try to hold back so desperately. he isn’t lying when he says you’re pretty, hypnotised by your face contorted in pleasure and your body, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. they somehow still have an innocent glint in them, even as he manoeuvres you into different positions before finally easing you into your back once more.
you arousal is smeared all over yourself and him and the bedsheets. clear and sticky, glistening in the candlelight. at some point he slipped out of you to lean down and have a taste, groaning as you mewed above him. when his teeth grazed your abuser clit, you finish once again and a moment later he’s back inside you.
eventually, his hips stutter and a newfound pace takes over. “shit, angel, i’m gonna fill you up so good. would you like that?”
you can only nod frantically, brain turned to mush, jaw dropped to let out your lazy whimpers. you’ve lost track of everything but him; his touch, his voice, his influence. if you parents walked in or he disappeared, you’d only be able to lay there, completely helpless.
he never really stops, taking his time to worship your tight hole, knowing he’ll only be able to stop when he comes. though, by the looks of it, it’ll be sooner rather than later.
his groans and moans sound blissful in your ears, holding your name between his teeth with a low whimper. he spills his tick warm cum into you, the new sensation making you shake and squirm as you feel your insides being filled. another orgasm washed over you, though a little weaker, drunk on his scent and his saliva and him him him.
he kisses you, bruisingly, slipping out of yoh and letting you feel his seed seep out of your hole and run down your thighs, pussy coated in milky white. he slumps against you, detaching his lips from yours to gaze down at your barely open eyes.
it’s tiring, you can’t deny that, but it just feels so good. all your disgusting, fucked up thoughts were because of him. and now your most intimate parts will always be tainted by his hands. he calls you ‘good girl,’ yet you know you’ll never be good again.
choi san: voice like silk, touch like satin, incubus, demon. you’d think demons kill people, but your purity was his only homicide. he murdered your virginity. murderer.
but you do wish for him to kiss you again.
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❝greedy little darlin❞ — p.sh.
PAIRING. frat!park seonghwa x fem!reader.
GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. dom!seonghwa. switch!sub!reader. university au. frat members ateez. sex talk (among adults). drinking (not too much, but just enough). pet names (mostly darling, reader is called slut once, good girl and handsome, prob more but i cant remember now). blowjob. hair pulling. cunnilingus. tongue fucking. over stimulation. sex with a condom (please remember to do that irl). light chocking. three? slaps on the ass. not proof read. i guess that's all, lmk if i forgot something.
SYNOPSIS. everyone knew you and Seonghwa were into each other, your friends even places a bet on when that would happen, although it never did. until he gets tired of your antics and decides to put you in your place.
RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.
WORD COUNT. ~5,6k.
NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateez frat boys (that i will still make so give me a moment) and of the atz house event you can't out rage us. shout out to @bro-atz for helping coming up with the idea for this, and to @seulrinnie-rinrin for betaing part of this. hopefully this is me leaving my slump so yeah, bye ♡.
IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.
CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡
Nothing was ever simple with Seonghwa.
Ever since the beginning, it was as if something was pulling you two closer and closer, the tension growing at each encounter. At first, everyone thought it was because you two didn’t know each other, the thing is that, after you met, the tension didn’t falter, it actually increased exponentially, to the point where your friends were making bets as to when and who would break first.
Park Seonghwa is the type of guy that makes you question everything. Because how can a man be so drop dead gorgeous with minimum to no effort? How can he look the squishiest human being with those adorable boba eyes, but also have the devilish look on his face when his eyes became siren and the smirk in present, making you question if you should really keep that line between friends high, blocking your passage, blocking you to reach his collar and kiss him like you need oxygen, to feel his marvelous tongue in between your folds, his hair in between your fingers as he -
“Earth to (y/n), you there?”
“Yeah, yeah sorry,” you looked around your friends with an apologetic look before focusing on the food in front of you, sighing. “What are we talking about again?”
“Damn, you truly dozed off,” the chuckle Mingi gave, was followed by some of the others as San just turned to you with that sweet smile of his, the dimples present, a reminder he too, was holding back a laugh.
“Since midterms are over, we were planning on having a little get together at the frat, no big party, just a few drink with friends, it’s not like any of us have time to organize it anyways,” you nodded taking another bite of your food, the movement being noticed by San who exchanged glances with the others. “So, can we count you on?”
“Don’t you consider me a friend, Sannie?” Everyone laughed as you leaned to kiss San’s cheek, apologizing. “I’ll be there, just let me know when.”
“We are all gonna be there, by the way,” the knowing smile that Wooyoung sent your way, made you want to push his face against his plate, “in case you want to dress up.”
“Why would I dress up to a get together with you guys?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because Hwa is gonna be there.”
“And you have a huge crush on him,” Jongho continued Yunho’s line and you could see Yeosang opening his mouth.
“And let's not forget the sexual tension there is!”
“You two should honestly just fuck already and end everyone’s suffering at this point.”
“What the fuck you guys talking about, and another word from you,” you pointed at Wooyoung who had made the last remark, “and I’ll shove your face against the plate!”
“Oh, kinky, should we let Hwa know?”
Yunho commented and all the boys bursted into laughter as all you wanted was to be buried six feet under.
Of course you had a crush on Seonghwa. Of course whenever you two were together there was this small flirtatious situation, and the sexual tension was definitely high whenever you two were close in a room, but that didn’t mean anything.
“I’m sure he’ll cave in soon and fuck you,” San’s words brought you back, making you eye him slightly shocked. “What? He thinks you are hot, he even said it to us the first time you two met, but I also don’t know why he hasn't done shit.”
“Because he likes to play with his food before eating it.”
Wooyoung jumped from the table the same second he finished his sentence already running from you trying to slap him, making everyone at the table and around you seven to laugh at the situation.
“I’ll fucking end you, Jung Wooyoung!”
You dolled up, he knew you would.
You always did whenever you two were to meet, only to be even more irresistible in his eyes. The fact that his brother’s from the fraternity knew how badly he wanted you, didn’t help as they would always create situations for the two of you to get close. Not that neither bothered to argue. Seonghwa had tried to reason with the younger ones, but as soon as he realized you didn’t really care, even indulged whenever it happened, made him decide to test how far you were willing to go.
As if you knew about it, you played along.
You accepted his drinks, laughed at his jokes, shiver under his touch, lean towards him when he was close. Yet, you would also pull your own strings. You knew he wouldn’t be jealous, you noticed on the first few tries on how he simply would smile or laugh at your useless attempts at making him feel anything when you were with someone else, which was not the case when he was the one trying to make you jealous, even if unintentionally.
So you changed your methods. From revealing clothes and trying to make him jealous, you simply decided to make yourself present, being there if needed, and flee if that was not the case, you stopped trying to get his attention, deciding to enjoy your time and maybe, just maybe, get with someone to alleviate the ache between your thighs whenever Seonghwa got too handsy with you before leaving you high and dry.
ATZ frat was known, as any other house on the Greek Road, to be just to mess around, never to create a relationship. Although you knew Wooyoung since you were kids, you knew that to be true whenever you and the other boys would get together, even San who appeared to be the one who leans mostly towards dating, would fuck around from time to time. The odds weren’t in your favor, so you decided to brush it off, to have fun with your friends, to go to their frat from time to time, and that was when your ‘relationship’ with Seonghwa started to change.
Both of you knew that this was never going forward. The moment you realized that, it was like something shifted in him, he started to go towards you whenever you met, regardless if it was at the frat or not. You knew that didn’t mean he was going to accept your advances, especially after you found out Hongjoong had established a rule that family and close friends from the members were off limits after a complicated situation happened a few weeks back and that you were highly aware of.
“So, you guys actually decided to throw a low profile party, hm? That’s a first,” you comment as Seonghwa opened the door and took a step back to let you in the frat before taking your jacket off, which he quickly took it in his hands as he closed the door. “Is anyone else coming?”
You asked, looking around, trying to see anyone, but the house looked rather empty. “I don’t know, but the main entertainment has finally arrived,” he purred against your ear, making you shiver as you smirked, keeping your composure. “Care for something to drink?”
“Sure, I’ll have whatever you are having,” you answer quickly, trying to brush off the shiver as you follow him towards the kitchen. “Heard it was a get together with friends… Was kind of expecting more people, if I’m honest.”
“Anyone in particular?” Seonghwa asked as he handed you a bottle of soju, clacking the bottles before bringing it to his lips, predatory eyes scanning your face. “Or are you asking to be sure you will be the only one here?”
As he took a step closer to you, you changed the weight of your foot before bringing the soju bottle to your own lips. “No one in particular, and we both know I don't mind sharing attention.”
Your eyes wandered across his face, lingering on his smirk before your fingers played with the necklace that hung low on his sheer shirt, the small opening where the necklace hang allowing your fingers to brush along the skin, as you noticed the smirk on Seonghwa’s lips grow slightly, his tongue poking out before you move away from him with a smirk.
“C’mon man, a hundred!”
“Fuck off Wooyoung, I’m not joining,” Mingi said pushing Wooyoung slightly chuckling as both their eyes landed on you, “it will be just another night and you know it, you will lose money.”
“So why you scared of betting?”
Wooyoung smirked at Mingi with raised eyebrows. “What you two up to, this time?”
“Betting if you and Hwa finally give in and fuck,” Wooyoung says bluntly making you scoff as you took another sip of your drink as you watch Seonghwa from afar talking to a few other people. “I’m betting it will, but the others are sure it’s just another night where you two keep with your cat and mouse game.”
“He knows I’m down, it’s in his lane,” you chuckle at Wooyoung’s words as you finish your drink. “I’m getting another bottle, do you guys want it?”
Both denied as Wooyoung continued to patronize Mingi, making you shake your head as you moved past Seonghwa, a little too close for comfort as your hand brush on his ass and you notice his eyes fall on you as you kept going to the kitchen, giving him a smirk as you open the fridge to get another bottle of soju.
“That’s your fourth bottle,” you hear Seonghwa’s voice, seeing him eye you from the counter, the bottle on his hands half empty, “shouldn’t you slow down?”
“Oh, is the mighty Park Seonghwa worried about me?” You smirk as you choose your bottle, opening as you eyed him. “That’s adorable, and I would actually believe it if it was a different scenario…”
“Why do you think I’m not?”
His eyes followed your form as you walked towards him, his hand instinctively finding your hip pressing it lightly, as he noticed your breath hitch as the bottle met your lips.
“Because we are at a party, a chill one, where nothing major is gonna happen…” Your eyes followed down to his sheer shirt, nails tracing down, touching his skin and abs over the shirt as you reached his pants, fingers vagally there before it went to the hook of the pants. “And I’m getting bored.”
His hand on your hips pressed, making you bite your lip as he took a step closer, his lips hovering over yours as his eyes studied every reaction. “So you intend to get drunk?”
“It’s not a solution, but it’s a possibility,” you say as your body gets closer to him, the freaking magnetic relationship you had whenever you two were together. “You have pretty friends…”
Your eyes avert for the people behind Seonghwa, who follows your eyes as it lands on some of his colleagues and friends before reaching yours with a small knowing smirk.
“I don’t think they are available…”
“Funny, because some of them already engaged in a few conversations with me,” you chuckle watching him, as one of your fingers extended and touched near his crotch area lightly, “and i can’t say I’m not interested in what they have to say…”
“Then have your fun with them, I’ll be waiting to hear about it later,” he hinted with raised eyebrows to you as his bottle reached his lips, his eyes never leaving you.
“Oh, so they are the kiss and tell type…” You murmur looking at his friends once more. “Might as well prepare for a performance then.”
“You wouldn’t need to if they knew what they were doing,” his eyes burned on you, as a smirk played on his lips, his hand pulling you as it reached your lower back, pressing you against his, against the bulge in his pants. His lips brushed against your ear, “but hey, if you are gonna fake better put on a memorable show, which I’m sure you are more than capable of doing.”
“I always do,” your voice sounded steady but your body was betraying you, as usual. “Wouldn’t be bad to not have to fake it everytime.”
Your hands moved between your bodies as you squeezed his bulge lightly, hearing him wince. “Feeling brave today, are we?”
“No, just needing to relieve some stress, after all, finals are finally over.”
You brushed your lips against Seonghwa’s before squeezing his bulge once more before pushing him away with the hand that held the soju bottle as you moved past him, smirking.
“So this is how we are playing tonight?” Seonghwa said under his breath. “Good luck with your boy toy search.”
He said a little louder, which you only raised your hand dismissing his comment, as his eyes lingered on your figure. The pants becoming a bother. Finals week had taken its toll on him, and just like you, he also needed a release. His eyes trailed on you as he watched you move, talk, touch and laugh at everyone's commentaries, a knowing glint in his eyes, the smirk always present as he called in one of his friends.
As it usually happened, neither you nor Seonghwa engaged once more throughout the night as you went on and on talking to every male, choosing if you’d bring any of them back home with you. The soju bottle now empty as your eyes wander on the last choices.
“Found them already?”
The amusement in Seonghwa voice already told the smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe…”
“I’ll take that as no then,” you felt him get closer to you, his front pressing on your side. “I may have someone for you, if you want.”
“Didn’t know you were into voyeurism,” your eyes quickly shot him a confused but amused look.
“And you seemed too bothered right now, so what is your answer?”
His hot breath against your neck and ear as you felt his lips touch your skin as his eyes studied you, as yours followed around the room trying to catch a glimpse of his friends, missing one as you turned to him with a smirk. Lips almost touching as you did, feeling his hand on your lower back.
“I guess you got my taste correctly.”
“Darling, when I say I know you, I mean it.”
Lips quickly found your cheekbone as his hand pulled you closer to his body. You held any sound not giving him the satisfaction.
“Cocky as always, aren’t you?” You chuckle but not move away from him, your nails scratching his abs through the shirt and subtly, as you feel them contract. “Why don’t you go get him then? I’m getting rather tired.”
“He went upstairs though, should we go fetch him?” His eyes were siren-like, a small smirk as he took your wrist, guiding you up the stairs. The look from some of the boys from the frat only made you laugh as you shook your head. “What’s funny?”
Seonghwa asks curiously as you reach the second floor. “Some of the boys looked at you guiding me.”
“I guess that’s fair,” he chuckled as well, his demeanor changing a little as he kept his hand on your wrist guiding you through the rooms, reaching the one you knew to be his. “Someone spilled a drink on his shirt, he asked to borrow one of mine.”
Your eyebrows raised, nodding still processing what was happening, as Seonghwa was a master of teasing you and it wouldn’t be the first time he’d guide you to the rooms — or his in specific — only to get you even more frustrated. Your eyes studied his features as his hand opened his room motioning for you to enter.
“I’m not fucking your friend in your room, Seonghwa.”
“Who says anything on those lines, darling?” A chuckle left his lips. “Now, will you be a good girl and enter the room, or don’t you trust me to have your best interest in heart?”
You bit your lip, noticing his gaze fall on them for a second before you motion to enter his room, eyes looking for the friend who was indeed with a shirt from Seonghwa and a stained one in hand.
“Oh, hello,” the boys said moving away from his phone, putting his shirt in a corner before his eyes fell on you and then Seonghwa. “Wingman, hm?”
You shook your head at his words, noticing Seonghwa nod as you focused on the boy that took a few steps towards you.
“A good wingman, nonetheless,” your voice was laced with amusement as his friend reached closer with a smirk, his hand going to cup your face. “Now, shall we leave?”
“Just give us a second, will you, darling?” Seonghwa said against your neck as you noticed both leave you, allowing you to take a breather. Of course Seonghwa would pull something like that. Few seconds later you hear footsteps and the movement of the door. “Thank you for being such a good girl, darling.”
At that, the door closed the same second Seonghwa’s hands found yours hips pulling you against his front making you gasp, before chuckling lightly.
“Smart, I gotta give you that.”
“Couldn’t have made it easy for you to figure it out, could I?”
His lips quickly found your neck as you moved your head to the side giving him access as you arched your back, pressing your ass against his bulge. One hand found his on your hip as the other went to the back of his neck tangling on his long locks.
“Of course, what would be the fun in that?” You chuckle before gasping as you felt him suck on the skin of your neck, as you put pressure on his nape, feeling his right hand lower towards your exposed thigh, the tips quickly wander to your inner thighs going up teasing your clothed core. “If you are just teasing this time, I swear —”
“I’m done with your antics, darling, it’s time to put you in your place.” The whimper that left your mouth made him chuckle against your neck as he put pressure on your clothed clit making you jolt. “C’mon darling, I think we postponed this for far too long,” his hands quickly turned you to face him, one hand on your chin before going to your hair. “Why don’t we start with you on your knees?”
You oblige letting him push you down, until your knees felt the floor, his crotch eye leveled, your mouth watering as his other hand undid his pants, the one on your head entangling with your hair as his pants fell, leaving him only in his underwear, the outline of his cock on display as you swallow hard. A light caress on your scalp was the only ‘okay’ you got before your hands quickly went to his waistband, lowering the underwear slowly.
His cockhead glowing with precum as you licked your lips feeling him pull your head near his pelvis, your hands pulling the rest of his underwear down as his cockhead quickly met the touch of your lips. The groan that left his lips making you smile as the pool in between your legs grew. As one hand finished pulling down his underwear, the other quickly met the base of his cock.
“Such a handsome face with such a pretty cock,” you said with a smile before opening your mouth, taping his tip on your tongue, feeling his fingers tighter on your head.
“Such a pretty filthy mouth, I wonder how it would look filled with my cum.”
Without a warning, he pushed your head down his length, moaning as your lips and tongue made contact with his cock, your hand working on the base of the cock as the other rested on his thigh. In swift movements you started to little by little take him in your mouth, gagging lightly from time to time, before he let you breath, the spit line connecting your swollen lips to his cock only making him twitch before fucking your mouth once more.
“Fuck, darling, do you like when I fuck your mouth like that, hm?” One of his hands caressed your hollowed cheeks as he slowed his movements a bit, to be able to look at you. “Such a pretty little thing for me, taking me in your mouth so well like that, I wonder how your cunt feels if this is how well your mouth treats me.”
You mumble with your mouth around his cock, making the vibration run through his body as one of your hands went up his abs under the shirt, which he quickly took it off, throwing somewhere along the pants and underwear as you started to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks, one hand on the base of his cock, sometimes joining in the movement your head was making. The sounds and cusses that went out of Seonghwa’s mouth only made you wetter by the second, if it wasn’t for your damped panties, you sure would have made a messy spot of arousal on his floor.
At this point you tried your best to keep yourself composed, mouth open and holding yourself steady as he fucked your mouth, holding your head in place before his movements become more erratic. You could feel him twitch on your mouth the last few times, the cockhead reaching the back of your throat, your eyes watering as your nails sank onto the skin of his thigh before his release filled your mouth and throat.
Before he could pull it out you held his base, slurping as you got the last drop of his cum in your mouth, swallowing and opening your mouth, putting his tip again in your tongue. The smirk along with the groan that left him was enough to make you want to do it all over again, to have him fuck your mouth once more, but his hand was quickly on your chin pulling you up, before connecting your mouths, making both moan against your lips.
Your hands quickly found his half-hard member, swift movements as your tongues explored each other’s mouths. His hand kept firm on the back of your head, holding you close to his as he ravish on your mouth, while the other went to your thigh, raising your dress to the waistline before slapping it harshly, making you jolt and moan against his mouth. A smirk could be felt as he slapped your ass one more time, pulling your hair, parting your lips, before smacking it once more, a glint in his eyes as he watched your whole body tremble.
He quickly moves you to the bed, pushing you down as his lips meet yours once more, your hands moving to his hair as one of his keeps holding your neck, the other quickly parting your legs as he pressed his knee to your clothed core, the hand holding your hips in place as you instinctively you started moving slowly as he restrain your movements from the grip on your hip making you whimper against his mouth.
“Please, please Hwa, I need — argh!” You complain as you feel the pressure of his knee against your clit, his mouth leaving wet trails of kisses along your neck and collarbone. “Please fuck me, please Hwa, I need you to —”
“I said I’d put you in your place, not take orders from you, I’m sure you know the difference, right?” He hovered over you as he finished saying that, his hand previously on your hips going up under your dress to pinch your nipple making you whine and throw your head back onto the mattress. “I need an answer, darling,” he said once more, his lips hovering against yours as he forced you to look at him, his other hands massaging your breast as he pressured your clit once more, making you move your hips searching for friction, only making him chuckle. “Be a good girl and answer my question and you’ll get to cum, although I do like to play with my food before eating it, makes it even more delicious to watch you come undone on my tongue.”
“Fucking hell,” you breath as you saw the smirk and watched his eyes fall to your parted lips, as the friction with his knee helped a little, but only made your insides burn with the need to have him inside you. “Yes, I-I know the difference, now ple-please touch me, please, Hwa.”
“Looks like you know how to beg, that’s cute,” he said before both his hands found your dress, pulling it over your head, exposing the majority of your body, the only covered part being the place you wanted him the most. “Time to grant your wish, darling.”
His lips quickly started a trail of wet open kisses down your neck, one of his hands holding your waist, the other playing with your nipple, pitching it as the other was finally met with Seonghwa’s mouth as he sucked in and played with the nipple, both with his tongue when he wouldn’t let marks over your chest. The lust in his eyes only got darker as he saw the marks embellishing your skin.
“Hwa, please… It hurts,” you whimper as you move your hips quickly against his leg, making him chuckle as he starts to kiss down your stomach, kneeling before you, siren eyes locked on you. “I’ve been good, now please fuck me.”
Although you did plead, your voice carried a hint of demand that made Seonghwa arched his brows and smirked as his hands spread your legs wider. You lifted your upper body, resting it on your elbows as you wanted to see the sight of Seonghwa’s head between your legs, as you have imagined and dreamed about it so many times before, only to groan when he kissed your inner thigh, neglecting the heat coming from your clothed folds.
“Patience comes for those who wait, darling, and I rush for no one,” his voice was laced with lust and a hint of a challenge, making you bite your lip, knowing if you pushed his rules, he might leave you high and dry. His smirk grew as he realized you caught up with his hint. “I knew you were a good girl, a brat even, but good to know you can be easily tamed,” his lips touched your damped panties right above your clit making you jolt and curse under your breath. “Now, lay down on the bed and let me have my fun with you, okay, darling?”
Before you could do as he said, his lips found your clothes core making you throw your head back with a moan, feeling his hands moving and pulling your panties to the side, his lips finding your sensitive clit making you jolt as he chuckled at your reaction, tip of his tongue touching your clit as he ravish on the sight of you squirming on his bed. Your hands quickly found his hair pulling it to you, which he obliged for the time being.
As his lips enveloped and sucked your clit, his fingers that were parting your legs found your core, coming up and down your entrance, making you jolt and clench around nothing as he would never put them in too much.
“Fuck Hwa, please please please please,” you squirmed already feeling tears fill your eyes as you looked down at him. “Fucking hell,” you said once more as your eyes met, the siren lustful eyes that you only dreamed of having between your legs before feeling his tongue play with your clit as two fingers enter you, making you throw your head back and arch your back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck!”
You screamed as you felt the build up in your stomach, only for him to stop completely before you feel his hands tanking off you panties before hovering over you, kissing your lips once more as his fingers played with your slit before entering you and curling inside, his thumb pressing on your clit as you moaned against Seonghwa’s lips, cussing and begging at the same time, as all you wish was to cum.
“My fingers or mouth, darling?”
“Both.”
“Greedy little darling, unfortunately you can only pick one,” you open your mouth to complain but only a moan escapes as he adds another finger making you squirm under him. “Choose now, or you won't have any.”
“Mouth.”
You say breathlessly as he lowers himself so his lips hover over yours. “Good girl.”
His lips are soon connected to your clit once more as his fingers leave you making you whine at the loss and clench around nothing as he quickly starts to ravish on your cunt. His tongue enters you in places you never thought it would be possible as his nose flickers on your sensitive clit making you tug on his hair as moans, curses and Soenghwa’s name leave your mouth at each strip he licks and each time his tongue enters your core.
“Fuck Hwa, so good, fucking god—”
“Cum for me darling, I want you to cum on my tongue, only then I’ll fill you up, so be a good girl and listen to what I say.”
You could barely process what he said as the build up in your stomach became too much, as you tried to push Seonghwa away as the stimulation started to become too great but he didn’t pull away, smirking at how much you squirmed because of his mouth. As heat flushed through your body making you numb, Seonghwa took his type to lick you clean watching you jolt from how sensitive you were before hovering above you once more.
“You ready for my cock, darling?” You just nodded as you watched him smirk, going for a condom that was in his drawer, quickly putting it on before positioning himself at your entrance. “I need to hear it.”
“I want you to fuck me senseless, Park Seonghwa.”
“My pleasure, my darling.”
At that he thrusts fully into you, holding your hips in place, keeping steady as he watched you, wondering if it was okay for him to move. Once you started to breathe again and your hand met his forearm as the other went for your breast, he smiled and started to move. Steady at first, watching how your facial expressions would change, playing with your body as he wanted to see what would make you tic, what would bring the sweetest sound from your mouth, but most importantly, what would make you come back to his bed.
“Fuck Hwa, yes, please, just like — argh fuck, YES!”
You couldn’t care less if someone was listening, if you had to take the walk of shame tomorrow, if this was only a one night stand, how you’d face Seonghwa once more if that was the case, none of it matter, all it mattered was how well he was rearranging your organs as his fingers sank into the flesh of your hip and he’d pull you towards him.
“Is my greedy little darling enjoying my cock?”
“Yes, yes, yes fucking yes.”
Seonghwa smiled at your words as one of his hands left your hip to find your clit, making you scream the moment he started to put pressure there, feeling you clench around him, his eyes closing as he could only think about making you cum on his cock, think about hearing you moan like that once more for him. As he felt his own orgasm coming closer, his other hand went for your neck, squeezing it just enough to make you roll your eyes back as his thumb still moved slowly on your clit as his thrusts became erratic.
“Cum for me darling, cum on my cock like the good slut you are, yes?”
And that was enough to push you over the edge as you screamed, arching your back as you creamed around his cock, feeling his thrusts start to slow down before his last thrust kept steady inside you as you knew he had emptied himself. His hand on your clit went to the mattress as the one on your neck found your cheeks caressing it lightly before he locked your lips together.
“So that just happened.”
He chuckled at your words, making you laugh as well, before he looked at you with the boba eyes you knew so well on certain occasions.
“I’m gonna pull out, okay?” You nodded whining at the loss of his cock as you watched him take the condom out and toss it on the trash as he got a cloth to clean you up, surprising you a little, bringing a chuckle to leave his mouth. “Are you okay?” He asked as he carefully cleaned you up, eyeing you with concerned eyes when you hissed a little and he quickly apologized.
“It’s okay, Hwa, don’t worry about it,” you comment, trying to get up already looking for your clothes, only to have Seonghwa hold you by the arm as your legs failed you. “I’m fine, I’ll be okay in a bit, just —”
“Lay down,” it wasn’t a request although it sounded like it coming from his mouth, by how careful he said it. “You are not leaving this room, we will sleep and then talk about it tomorrow, unless you are uncomfortable —”
“It’s fine I— I thought you’d want me to leave since…”
“I’m a little cold, yes, but not that cold. I could never make a girl leave my room right after something like this, especially if that girl is you.” Your breath hitched and Seonghwa smiled at you. “Now, let’s go lay down, do you want one of my shirts to sleep on, darling?”
You nodded, smiling at him as you sat back on the bed, as Seonghwa smiled at you handing you a shirt and boxers, which you thanked as he pulled the covers after putting shorts himself and laying next to you in bed.
“Thank you, Seonghwa.”
“No need to thank me,” he kissed your temple pulling you closer to him on the bed, his hands playing with your hair as he noticed you drifting to dreamland, chuckling lightly. “Goodnight, my darling.”
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Behind Closed Doors
SUMMARY | The quiet guy who lives next door to you hardly seems to notice you, but you can't help but notice him—he's gorgeous. You've given up all hope of striking up a conversation until he comes to your rescue one night after your ex shows up to your house, drunk and looking to take you back, whether you want him or not.
PAIRINGS | Seonghwa x Reader
RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+
GENRE | neighbor!Seonghwa, neighbor!Reader, smut, non-idol au, next door neighbor trope
CONTENT/WARNINGS | drunk cheating ex, profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, oral sex (both receiving/giving), dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, creampies
LENGTH | 6,053 words
TAGLIST | —
NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety
AUTHOR’S NOTE | I love writing next door neighbor tropes just as much as I love writing college aus. I hope you all like this. Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚
"I told you to get out!" you yelled, throwing pillows at the sorry excuse of an ex-boyfriend you dated. You didn't miss when they hit him right in the face, and it gave you a weird satisfaction seeing him be hurt, even though it was from the small weapon.
"C'mon, babe, please. We were so good together!" He complained, attempting to get on his hands and knees and crawl over to where you stood on the opposite side of the sofa.
"Oh yeah? Does that mean that me finding out about you fucking all those random tramps was us being 'good together' too?" you scoffed at him.
"Now, babe—"
"Don't you 'babe' me, you asshole. Go find some other chick to go play house with! I never want to see you again, are we clear!?" you seethed. This had gotten annoying rather fast, and now you could barely stand looking at his face any longer.
"Baby, you know that she's nothing compared to you. You're the only one I ever want. I can't get you out of my—"
"If I was the only one that you cared about, you wouldn't have done that in the first place," you said as calmly as you could, trying not to get more upset by thinking about what he did.
“We all make mistakes sometimes!” He pleaded.
"FUCKING MY LANDLORD IN MY BEDROOM AFTER THINKING I WAS OUT OF TOWN IS A MISTAKE!?!?" you screamed, picking up another pillow from behind you and threw it with full force at him. He only missed the attack by dodging.
"Babe..." He tried crawling to you again but you just punched the sofa as hard as you could.
"I have had it! I am so fucking done! There is no chance in hell we will ever get back together and get married like you'd wanted—we're done. Are we clear on this, Park Donghyun!?" You used his full name in a way that wasn't appealing or desirable. It was in a harsh, angry voice that rang through his ears and scared him slightly. He just stayed on the ground, still crawling as slow as he could and acting as if it pained him for you to feel the way you did.
"Sweetheart, please," he croaked. "You know we belong together. I never really loved them, it was you."
You weren't sure if you two were ever good together or just good fucks to each other—either way, you weren't going back to a person like that. When he reached over the couch for you, you went to dodge out of the way and unfortunately, with your shitty luck, you tripped over the leg of the coffee table and fell, hitting your head hard against the corner as you hit the ground.
There was a lot of pain and the stench of soju filled your nose as Donghyun bent over you with lust filled eyes…and then suddenly nothing.
A few blinks later, the blurry figure above you was now much clearer, but it definitely wasn't your shitty ex-boyfriend. It was a much more beautiful sight: Seonghwa, your gorgeous neighbor who seemed to care more than he should about the stranger across the hallway, not that you were going to complain.
"Hey, hey, you should stay still," Seonghwa spoke softly.
"Oww," you groaned, taking an attempt to move to show you were feeling fine. Seonghwa gently grasped your arms and helped you into a sitting position. "Did that fucker leave?"
"Don't worry. I made sure he wouldn't be bothering you again," Seonghwa replied, letting his eyes glide down to the purplish mark on the side of your face. It broke his heart to see that someone would ever consider treating someone else, especially a woman, this way. "Did he do that to you?"
"This?" you winced at the slight pain. "No. I was trying to get away from him and I tripped. Unfortunately, there was a table there that knocked me out, not the creep." You let out a long breath and blinked rapidly. "God, why did my life turn into a drama?"
You and Seonghwa sat there awkwardly, neither of you too sure what to do in the current situation you were both in. You were never that close, having only waved at each other a handful of times when you had happened to catch each other at the same time and your eyes met. Other than that, you hadn't gotten past acquaintances with the handsome male, though your friends seemed convinced you should start a relationship with him or at least have a nice quick fling for a week or so.
"Hey," he broke the silence that had been lasting a while. "If you want me to, I can put an ice pack on that for you. Might help to prevent the swelling, not to mention the pain."
You hadn't noticed the ache before, but now that it was mentioned, the spot throbbed almost as if in response. A look of surprise had etched onto your features as you finally answered. "That's alright," you answered a little too fast to be natural, "you don't have to do that."
Seonghwa watched you for a second before his expression melted into one of reassurance. "It's okay, I insist," his features brightened with a genuine smile. "Do you have any in your freezer?"
Before you could respond, he was walking over and grabbing them. With the ice in hand, he sat next to you. His shoulder rested gently against yours, his warmth spreading from his thin cotton shirt to you and you were tempted to sink against him and feel his muscles under his shirt. His smell was intoxicating, the light scent of his body wash still lingering from when he showered before coming to rescue you.
Seonghwa was coming home from running errands when the sound of shouting across the hall caught his attention. He knew it was no place for someone to be alone in such a situation, so he rushed over without a second thought. He didn't even question why the front door was unlocked; he assumed someone was preventing you from leaving and Seonghwa did not like that.
Bursting through the door, Seonghwa's protective instincts surged when he saw your ex looming over you. He didn't hesitate – grabbing the man, shoving him out, and slamming the door shut. Concern flooded him as he turned to you, lying on the living room floor.
Seonghwa was relieved to hear your injury was from a fall, not your ex's abuse. As he held the ice pack to your bruised cheek, his heart ached, wishing he could erase your pain. A permanent frown settled on his concerned face. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, pulling the ice back to gauge your reaction.
You nodded your thanks, then took the ice pack from him. "My head's pounding," you admitted, "but it was doing that before. The ice actually feels good..." You trailed off, glancing at Seonghwa. He was watching you with such focused attention, it made you self-conscious. "Though, yeah, it is pretty cold."
"Hm... How are things with him? Better now? Do I need to scare him off some more?" He joked, despite the tone and the expression on his face showing nothing more than that.
A dry laugh fell from your lips. "I honestly can't believe him."
"He seemed really obsessed." He nodded as he agreed.
"It's not just that," you scoffed bitterly. "He slept with other women the entire time we were dating, even after he said he loved me. He even slept with my landlady when he thought I was out of town." You shook your head, exasperated. "And here I am, unloading all this on you when we barely know each other. I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to me complain about my ex."
"Well, my schedule is empty at the moment, and I don't mind listening to you talk, either," Seonghwa shifted so that your right knee pressed against his own, his arms resting against his leg. "And about us not really knowing each other, we could get to know each other now and worry about that another day."
You thought about his offer to try and get to know each other while pressing the ice against the bruised spot once again. "So, I should be expecting you in my apartment more often now?"
A slight grin flashed over his lips, a deep chuckle shaking his body lightly. The vibration seemed to radiate into you, a sweet buzz tingling throughout your body and making it warmer than before. "Only if you need rescuing."
The corners of your lips curved into a smile as your free hand reached and ruffled Seonghwa's hair. "Careful now. What would your girlfriend say?"
He let out a laugh. "I'm single if that's what you're asking."
This gorgeous man was single? Even a guy like him was still unattached in this dating scene? As much as you were shocked, you were grateful for the information. You made sure not to let out a relieved sigh as he leaned in toward you.
Seonghwa removed the ice from your hand and held it against your face. It felt like it was much colder now that his fingers were brushing against your skin, especially since the bruise felt a bit better. Not to mention that you could see something sparkle in Seonghwa's eyes. This guy...
"Sorry for coming in unannounced earlier. I just needed to make sure that he wouldn't be able to hurt you," he said with a tinge of guilt in his voice. "You must be surprised I didn't even knock or anything."
You blinked rapidly, pulling back slightly. Then, you reached out and placed your hand over his, helping him hold the ice pack to your cheek. "You don't need to apologize," you reassured him with a warm smile. "I'm just grateful you were here. Who knows what could've happened otherwise, to me or my apartment." Your smile softened. "And don't worry about surprising me. Thank you, Seonghwa."
The shared warmth of your hands on the ice pack faded as Seonghwa withdrew his touch, leaving a lingering warmth on your skin. A flicker of disappointment quickly gave way to a flutter of excitement as his fingers gently grazed your cheek, careful of the bruise. This wasn't the casual acquaintance you'd known from brief encounters at the mailbox; a deeper connection was sparking to life.
Seonghwa kept the ice pack in place, but his focus shifted. His right hand traced your jawline, fingers hesitant yet drawn to your warmth. The intimacy of the moment was unexpected, a spark igniting where only polite exchanges had existed before. His touch lingered, a silent question hanging in the air, as if seeking permission to bridge the gap between comfort and something more.
He pulled his hand away and picked up the now melting bag, bringing it into the open-plan kitchen that connected with the living room. You followed behind him, confused as to why he had stopped the closeness the two of you were sharing before.
You stood in the doorway to the kitchen while Seonghwa refroze the ice pack. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" His dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle with interest as he studied you.
"Uh, well..."
"Or should I give you some space?" His eyebrows knit together as he fidgeted nervously, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. "I mean, I shouldn't impose, right?"
As if the fates were giving you the signal to tell Seonghwa that, yes, he was always welcome to 'impose', your stomach growled, growling loud enough that the gorgeous man couldn't have ignored it. You groaned and hung your head slightly while laughing lightly, embarrassment burning across your face and through your body.
Seonghwa let out a laugh. "Come over to my place. I'll whip something up," he said with a gentle voice. He walked out of the kitchen and past you, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. You weren't entirely sure if it was done on purpose or if it was coincidental. But you let him guide you out of your apartment and across the way to his.
A few weeks later, Seonghwa had invited you over for coffee and conversation. Spending more time with the tall and gorgeous man across the hallway didn't sound bad at all. Sure, it had only been a few days since the 'incident', but you had already learned so much. For instance, Seonghwa juggled studying business with bartending gigs and helping out at a friend's car rental. It wasn't the most conventional career path, but he managed it all with surprising ease. Not to mention the fact he had the ability to stay motivated to pull it all off and somehow stay as calm and cool as he is. Then there was the way he effortlessly slipped into his charming demeanor. And how that never left whenever you were together.
Okay, you had to admit you had it pretty bad. This wasn't how you expected to be feeling, given how your relationship with your ex had ended just recently. Yet here you were, admiring this amazingly talented and attractive man sitting in front of you, wearing the most casual clothing possible. Despite looking quite sleepy and lazy with a bit of hair mussed and a very big, comfortable shirt, a small portion of skin was showing and it took all the willpower you had not to stare at him for a little longer. He was that incredible to look at. He'd even fallen asleep in his arm chair, and when you heard soft snores emitted, a light giggle had escaped your lips. Even in sleep, he still looked handsome and you could feel the growing urge to run your fingers through his silky hair and graze his face delicately.
Oh yes, you had it pretty bad... But how would he react? Maybe he would be the one running away. Or not. If he's anything like your ex, then there is a large probability he will leave like all the men you've dated had. Still...
You heaved a sigh and peeked over at Seonghwa, watching his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. You quietly cleared your throat and leaned over the table where his mug still remained, most likely cold. Placing your fingers against the handle, you began moving to grab the mug, planning on placing it in the kitchen sink. But just as you touched the glass of the mug, the sleepy man stirred awake, blinking to get ahold of reality and waking up. Seonghwa yawned widely, the sound catching in your throat. Your heart skipped a beat, a shy smile spreading across your face.
"Didn't mean to fall asleep..." His voice, rough with sleep, sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure.
"Nah, don't worry about it," a genuine smile graced your features, "I don't mind."
Your reaction seemed to comfort him as he rose from the chair and stretched before gathering his coffee mug and reaching out for yours, collecting them to take them to the kitchen and making more coffee for the two of you. You watched intently as his fingers went to his hair to mess it up a bit before coming back to the living room and sitting. He leaned back, exposing more skin at the neck of his shirt, making you realize he didn't have a shirt underneath it.
"So I've been thinking. About that creep," he paused and sipped the coffee. "I was thinking. You and I should hang out together when the creep is nearby. See if it helps to show him that you've moved on."
"Oh? And you think it would work?" You raised your brow, interested and skeptical.
"Yeah," he said it too quickly. His hand went to rub the back of his neck and his gaze stayed down, avoiding you. "He might just have gotten the hint that you don't want anything to do with him. Maybe we can help the process move along? That's if you want to."
His flustered state was adorable, a blush dusting his cheeks as he averted his gaze. You couldn't help but giggle at his bashfulness.
"Are you certain about this? It would mean spending a lot more time together," you teased, enjoying his flustered reaction. His grip tightened on the mug, and he avoided your eyes. "Unless you're only suggesting this out of concern, and you don't actually want to..." you trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.
"It's not like that," his voice was a tad shaky and almost sounded panicked as his eyes locked with yours, the flush still coloring his skin. "I'm kind of interested. In you..."
His confession brought heat rushing to your face as well, and your embarrassment was written all over, judging from the amused smirk on Seonghwa's face and how you averted your eyes to focus on the floor. “I’m interested in you too…”
"Y-yeah?" he stammered, his voice catching in his throat. He looked every bit the nervous schoolboy, clutching his coffee mug like a lifeline and darting his eyes anywhere but your face. His lips parted, then closed again as he licked them nervously.
Seonghwa's flustered reaction was endearing. It was hard to believe this confident, capable man was reduced to a blushing, stammering mess in your presence. The realization that he was interested in you, of all the women in the complex who likely vied for his attention, sent a thrill through you. It was impossible not to fall for him a little harder in that moment.
With your mutual confessions hanging in the air, the atmosphere shifted. It became charged with a new intimacy, though a hint of awkwardness lingered. Seonghwa's eyes darted around the room, while your face couldn't help but break into a wide smile. This was a new beginning, a thrilling and uncertain one. As the initial tension eased, Seonghwa visibly relaxed, though he still couldn't quite meet your gaze. He fidgeted with his mug, taking a few sips, and your eyes met in a shared moment of laughter, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings now laid bare.
"Ah," he set his mug down before standing. "Do you maybe want to go out to dinner sometime? Just the two of us?" His gaze returned to you as you got up and put your mug down, keeping it by the table as he placed his in the sink to be cleaned later.
"I'd like that. Let's do it," you couldn't contain your excitement, and your hand instinctively reached out, slipping over where it rested on the sink. Your fingers intertwined with his, causing him to gasp softly. But he didn't pull away; instead, his grip tightened slightly, sending a warm jolt through you.
Seonghwa couldn't speak, his joy evident in the widening of his smile and the tightening of his hold on your hand. As if remembering his usual charm, a playful smirk tugged at his lips. He covered his mouth with his free hand, trying to contain his happiness, while his fingers intertwined with yours. "Yeah?" he managed, his voice barely a whisper.
A rush of heat burned your cheeks as you swallowed a nervous lump before answering. "Yes, I want to spend time with you."
His grip loosened, and he closed the distance between you, his warm breath washing over you. A moment of hesitation, a flicker of nervousness in the air, and then your eyes met. In an instant, you were enveloped in his embrace, his nose brushing affectionately against yours before his lips found yours. The kiss was intoxicating, a dizzying sensation heightened by the gentle pressure of his lips guiding yours.
All too soon, the feeling came to an end when he pulled back, leaving you a mess while he remained fairly composed, his smile beaming brilliantly. "Let me know when you want to go out and I'll take you anywhere. And anytime," Seonghwa cupped your flushed cheek with his palm. His touch sent electric sparks flying over every spot of your skin. "Call me, text me...come over any time."
"Okay," a smile that you didn't even feel could exist came to life as he leaned down again and kissed you, deepening this one a bit more and sending you further into an intense and head spinning trance.
He gave a bright and wide smile that shines as brightly as the sun as he took your hand in his, locking the two of your fingers together as he guided you out to the apartment hallway. He leaned against his open door frame, watching as you opened your front door. Before you could step through, you spun to face him, wanting to thank him, only to be met with him pulling you back and pecking your lips briefly.
"Hey, I'll stop by later if you want," his gorgeous dark brown eyes were sparking and begging you not to reject his offer. "I'll bring dinner. Sounds good?"
"Sure, yeah. That'll be nice," you answered, words slightly slurred since your head hadn't completely returned from being caught in the bliss of those kisses.
"Cool. I'll see you then," he placed a light kiss upon your nose before watching you return to your place.
The sound of the lock clicking shut echoed behind him as Seonghwa practically flew back into his apartment, his joyous shouts filling the living room. He was overflowing with pure elation, warmth spreading through him like wildfire. Rescuing his beautiful neighbor had been an impulsive act on a seemingly ordinary day, but who could have predicted it would lead to this?
"I can't believe how lucky I am," Seonghwa thought, already planning how to shower his new girlfriend with affection. She deserved so much more than that awful ex. The best dates, the best gifts, everything she wanted would be hers. He vowed to dedicate himself to her happiness, helping her erase every painful memory of the past.
After numerous dates filled with stolen kisses and lingering touches, you couldn't deny your growing desire for something more. The passion intensified with each shared moment, often leading to intimate cuddles on the couch or in bed, despite having dinner waiting or a movie paused in the background. Resisting the urge to take things further was a constant battle, but your patience was rewarded during a particularly heated make-out session one evening.
You were the first to move, rising off the couch to settle in his lap, arms finding their way around his neck while your hips were taken control of by Seonghwa's hands. Those skillful and very long fingers seemed to know exactly where to knead and grab as his teeth and tongue both went to work to drive you crazy. The fabric of his jeans was not comfortable at all and you tried to adjust your hips a bit to seek more comfort and maybe to send him some messages that you really enjoyed what was occurring. However, this movement seemed to rile Seonghwa up a bit.
"Can we..." you started to ask but couldn't find the rest of the words that you desperately sought out.
"We can... We can move it to the bedroom," he had already read you like an open book and his arms wrapped around you. "Or stay here if you don't mind the couch? We can go weherever you want to go."
As much as you liked the idea of staying right where you were and continuing this there and then, you weren't certain if you wanted the first time to be on the couch, even if that's where all the previous kissing had led. Shaking your head lightly, your answer was given and Seonghwa gladly lifted you and carried you with his long legs taking large and quick steps to his room, leaving kisses along the sides of your neck and behind your ear, a known sensitive spot for you.
He pressed you onto the mattress, his lips finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you cried out his name. How had this incredible man become yours? His touch was magic, igniting sparks wherever his fingers traced, leaving you weak and pliant in his arms. You threaded your fingers through his soft, thick hair, the boyish style contrasting with the raw passion in his eyes.
“You're so handsome, Seonghwa," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.
"Handsome and talented? Hmm? And totally yours," his bright eyes shined with his dazzling smile and his eyebrows rose. "I'm yours, angel. All yours."
"I want you, Seonghwa..." you couldn't contain how badly you wanted him, the yearning strong as you watched him move his head to one side and his face nuzzle your neck. A light growl and he bit the spot he'd just exposed by moving out of the way before his teeth dragged his lower lip slowly back across the surface.
"You can have all of me," the smirk was obvious from the sound of his husky tone. "Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Do whatever you ask and I'll gladly listen."
"You should probably know... I've never been on top. Always the bottom," you admitted.
"Hmmm...so you want to ride this tonight?" He grinded his crotch over top of yours, allowing the rough friction to give you a preview, the movement so expert and sensual as his eyes shut and he threw back his head, lips parted to let out a groan. "Because I can make that happen if it'll please my angel."
You couldn't stop your fingers from raking along his bare skin beneath his shirt, digging slightly as your back arched for more contact. "Yes. I want that. Will you give it to me?"
"Hell yes," his husky growl had you burning for him with anticipation and the excitement made your hands shake as your shirt was removed. In seconds, the rest of your clothing had been peeled from your form and Seonghwa stood by the bed to toss off everything.
There wasn't time to admire the masterpiece that he had under his pants because those hands returned, sliding along your curves and hips before flipping you up to straddle over him. Once settled and comfortable, your eyes fixated on how aroused he was before you as your core was positioned directly over the bulge pressing firmly against your heat. Your hands supported you in his lap with the flat of your palms pressed against the soft sheet, just below his firm, perky chest. With each slight wiggle of your hips, an enticing moan erupted and his head pushed back while his length grinded against your sex, creating a lovely mix of heat and wetness that coated over his growing arousal. The slick and wet noises each time you rolled or swiveled your hips sent your head spinning and you wanted nothing more than to continue that until you would eventually need a taste of that pulsing, red, swollen tip.
"Hwa? Can I suck you for a bit?" you whispered as your lips spread out across his upper chest.
A light hum that was filled with pure desire came as a response from him before a broken 'fuck' slipped free as the first touch of your tongue and lips worked across his defined collarbone and your fingers began working his growing length. Each pump made your core swell and dampen more, and the anticipation and arousal nearly blinded you, so badly were you just yearning to be filled and used.
When he seemed to be unable to handle it any longer, Seonghwa flipped you back around so your rear faced him and you had your mouth leveled with the object that would very soon satisfy that part of your aching sex. "Why don't I eat you out while you suck me? Sounds fair to you, babe?"
You could only hum against the smooth skin of his arousal and closed your eyes when you felt his palms roaming across the curvatures of your rear before spreading the plump cheeks. He didn't waste any more time before diving right in with a long, deep lick to your soaking pussy. Each swirl and circle had you wanting to moan and push your hips back for more while at the same time, trying to take him deep, gagging slightly until you began to find the right balance and breathing technique. Seonghwa was a lot bigger than your last boyfriend, but luckily for you, there was enough practice and pleasure before, thanks to your skills, to prepare for him.
"Fuck Hwa, right there...ohh!" your cries got a little louder and your body felt more restless when he began nibbling and licking over your clit.
"Come on, angel. Don't stop sucking me," he purred against your heat and the vibrations drove you higher and more insane.
As soon as he returned and increased his attention on you, you returned yours to his deliciously thick and hard length. You would make sure to give it the utmost care and attention, no matter how good it felt to have those masterful lips and tongue working you in the most sensitive spots. You pulled out all the tricks and techniques you knew, bobbing your head at just the right moment and at the perfect angle that you could take him in more and at the right moment would stroke his base. Meanwhile your other hand carefully rolled his sack and when you weren't completely focused, would pull up lightly from its place. Each moan he let out into your dripping cunt had your legs quivering and you weren't sure how much longer you could take before coming undone.
Your head was beginning to cloud more and more with desire and lust while the hot and slick sounds and your panting grew louder the longer the oral stimulation went on for. It took your whole power and energy to remember that you had your hands working while you felt like a puddle, near your limits of coming undone as his tongue swiped against the most sensitive nerves. It became increasingly difficult to focus and concentrate on keeping your throat and gag reflexes under control with each bob. You definitely weren't going to be able to handle this for much longer if things kept going at that pace.
"Hwa, I can't...ahhhhh," your screams echoed as his talented tongue and the slight prodding of a long, slender finger at your entrance had you finishing in no time.
"Me too, angel," his breathy moans were encouraging as were the heavy panting from his mouth while he pushed his hips back and forth, gliding easily within your mouth with the help of your hand. "Oh, fuck... Fuck! Here it comes, babe..." Seonghwa grunted as he shoved his cock back further into your warm, wet, and waiting mouth and you swallowed and held him in there, eyes watering and stinging slightly.
Once he eased up and the load that had shot directly down your throat was swallowed, you turned around and crawled up his body, your lips latching onto his neck.
"I'm not quite done with you yet, Hwa," your hand gripped his throbbing member once more, rubbing teasing circles along the sensitive flesh and feeling it twitch within your fingers. Your thumb smeared the moisture from the head across the entire, swollen shaft, making the pumping slick and quick. "Need you in me...right fucking now..."
"Take it as much as you need, angel," the raspy voice growled back as he used your soaked entrance to slick and prep his length.
In the matter of a single second, his full length slid straight into you and you let out a drawn out moan. With the size of your new lover, he hit spots that no one had ever even come close to touching. He was that thick and long, hitting places you'd never imagined having touched. He must have been blessed by the gods and you were incredibly lucky.
"If I'm hurting you—" Seonghwa began to ask, concern etched on his face.
"No! Hwa, you're fine... Better than fine," a breathy, eager, and almost desperate whimper met his ear as you grinded your hips on his length, begging for movement and pleasure from him. "Fuck, you fill me up so well. It feels so amazing," you added.
His hips rolled and with each stroke, each thrust was controlled and steady as he made certain to hit your deepest spots, rocking his pelvis at the perfect angle so he could continuously graze along that spot deep inside, coaxing it to explode and send you over. "So tight and wet...perfect...fuck, this pussy is gorgeous and sweet. And only mine. Right, angel? My girl's perfect tight little pussy is all mine?" Seonghwa asked and smirked after hearing your sweet sounds.
All you could do was nod, clutching him and running your fingers through his sweaty hair, trying to hold off your second climax as long as you possibly could, even though the way his cock kept sliding, prodding and working along that one sweet spot would become your undoing. That, and his filthy words. Those filthy words mixed with the beautiful grunts and moans from him were so sexy. He was already wrecking you so much.
"All yours, baby," you said softly. "Only yours."
"So perfect, my angel. Come on, my sweet angel," his husky voice murmured and encouraged you to keep going and let the feelings come to their highest peak.
"H-harder. Fuck me harder, Hwa." The sensations within you built, the pressure and knot deep within ready to burst. Just a little more. Only a little more and you could finish and feel free of the bliss and pleasure that your boyfriend was so skillfully bringing forth.
"Prettiest, most angelic voice...just listen to the little moans you're making... Fuck!" Seonghwa pounded and pounded deeper and deeper into you until you were a babbling mess. He fucked the words completely out of you, replacing them instead with sweet moans and screams of his name. That angelic sound of you reaching your climax did not go unnoticed as it bounced along his bedroom walls and your tight walls squeezed him.
It was all too much. After giving you such a glorious release that had you seeing stars, Seonghwa reached his high, moans mixing together as the two of you panted and clutched each other with strong arms. The two of you basked in the high the two of you had just taken part of and came down from slowly, hearts beating at erratic rhythms while your breath returned.
"Wow..." Seonghwa spoke softly. "You're amazing, angel."
"That was...that was great," you still hadn't fully recuperated from the waves and the intensity of the mind blowing experience with him. "But Hwa...baby?" you questioned.
"Hm?" Seonghwa questioned, his voice raspy with contentment.
"We definitely need showers," you giggled.
"Hm... But I can't walk yet, my legs are numb," Seonghwa stated as he gently patted your rear.
You giggled and smirked, "Get stronger ones, mister," before settling down on his chest.
"My legs can barely move! A shower sounds awesome, but I'm so comfy and tired right now," he made a fake, overly loud snoring sound.
You poked the tip of his nose. "How about I draw a bath for us then?"
"Perfect. Or we could skip the bath all together and just do some more...adventures...in bed," he had a smile full of mischief and the wink had you giggling and shaking your head, a blush finding its way into your cheeks once more.
"You and your dirty mind..." you went to get up and start the water, only to have him grab your wrist and sit up slightly, the sweat dripping down and his cheeks rosy pink.
"Angel, one more? Then we can be good and clean," his pleas were soft and inviting, and very convincing when coupled with the sweet smile and twinkling eyes.
"How about sex in the bathtub instead? As a compromise and to satisfy your neediness," you said and put a finger to your lips.
Seonghwa chuckled. "You drive a hard bargain. That's a deal."
#illusionnet#atzhouse#cromernet#wonderlandnet#kvanity#other side outlaws network#ksmutsociety#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez stories#ateez fanfics#ateez smut#ateez seonghwa#park seonghwa#seonghwa#seonghwa smut#seonghwa x reader
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𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞
dragon shifter!park seonghwa x f!reader
just because you're both dragon shifters doesn't mean this courtship thing is easy.
▷ 6.1k words, pg-13, f2l, dragon shifters au, urban fantasy, swearing, mentions of a big roach/insect, shoulder kiss, seonghwa goes shirtless once (1), mentions of courtship/mating traditions, the boys are implicit in shenanigans ofc, love in the form of jewelry, very mild jealousy, pining
a/n: this au idea was like ,,, 3 months in the making but i reopened the draft yesterday cuz i was tired of rotting 😭 anyways... i think shy, romantic seonghwa is cute ! (also very much hoping this isn't too boring jsfnkdnf)
Park Seonghwa was pretty sure he fell in love with you the day you met.
It wasn't something he openly admitted to, especially since his attraction had come first when he saw you across the dormitory common room, and was struck dumb by the curve of your smile and the way the sunlight hit your irises to make them glint like jewels. While it was stereotypical to think that dragons only cared about appearances, it didn't come from nothing. It was part of the reason why Seonghwa didn't like saying it was love at first sight; it technically wasn't, by all definitions. He just thought you were beautiful.
It wasn't until he finally worked up the courage (thanks to his best friend Hongjoong's encouragement (shoving)) to introduce himself to you that he realized what you were—a dragon shifter, just like him. It was no wonder he felt a pull toward you; dragon shifters were a dime a dozen, especially in the city where you both attended university. He told himself his fast friendship and bonding with you came from his excitement of being the same species, as well as learning each other's cultures and traditions, as you came from different clans.
Though, that didn't account for the amount of times he daydreamed about adorning you in his family's jewels, as it was customary in courtship traditions to wear one's mate's gems. Neither did it account for the way his heart beat faster whenever you were around, the purring from his chest after that one time you fell asleep on his shoulder… It was complicated.
“Everyone, let's load up the cars! Quick—off your asses. Let's move, people!” Hongjoong hollered like a drill sergeant, his hands cupped around his mouth before clapping too loud for six in the morning on a Saturday.
Who in their right mind would be crazy enough to wake up so early on the Saturday of their last spring break? Only one demon in particular, and his name was Kim Hongjoong.
Seonghwa was still half asleep, his eyelids droopy and his limbs even droopier. He nearly flopped face-first onto the pavement outside the apartment complex. He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder and slumped over to the passenger side of the SUV. It had taken all of his willpower to not trudge out in his Lego Movie pajama set.
“—and for goddess's sake, where is Yn?”
He jolted upright. “Yn?” He blubbered, head going on a swivel.
Hongjoong peered at him weirdly with his hands on his hips, and Wooyoung snorted, then scurried past to avoid Seonghwa's scowl. “Yes, Yn,” Hongjoong said. “Are you awake, Hwa? We literally talked about Yn coming on the trip with us last night.”
Oh. Right.
Seonghwa blinked his bleary eyes open and nodded sheepishly. Thank goodness he wasn't in his Lego Movie pajamas. “Y-yep, of course I remember!”
He glanced away, nostrils flaring as he caught onto a familiar scent coming down the street. He could pick out the smell of apple blossoms, tangerines, and your particular musk from a mile away if he was more awake.
“Sorry, I'm late!” Then there came the voice. Your voice simultaneously jump-started his heart and made his heart swoon. If he was about to faint, it probably wasn't going to be from sleep deprivation.
He couldn't believe he nearly forgot you were coming to the lake with them.
Your form came into view, your hair a windswept mess and a sheepish sort of smile on your face as you wrestled with the duffle on one shoulder, your backpack on the other, and a paper grocery bag.
Seonghwa practically fell over himself in order to drop his own bag on the sidewalk and rush over to you. “Here, I got it,” he murmured, taking the grocery bag and duffle bag away from you so he could hold them.
Your smile widened at him, and he swore the soft morning light was purposefully making your eyes glow right now. “Thanks, Hwa. Very sweet of you.”
“Of course,” he said with a humble nod, pointedly ignoring all of the looks he was getting from his friends.
“You're just on time,” Hongjoong greeted you with a small smile. “How were exams for you?”
You brushed a hand through your hair, a tired laugh falling from your lips. “They were… alright,” you opted to say. “Glad they're over now, and I'm so ready for this trip.” You gestured to the grocery bag Seonghwa held. “Oh! I brought snacks, by the way.”
Mingi stuck his entire upper body out of the passenger seat of Yunho's sedan. “Yn-ah! You're riding in our car, right?”
Seonghwa's expression molded into something sour. “Where did you get that idea from?”
“Mingi, you should just give up now,” San chuckled. He sent a wink over to Seonghwa, then glanced back at the naiad who's head Seonghwa was currently trying to glare a hole through. “We’ve already claimed Yn for our car.”
You looked on in confused amusement. “I'll split the snacks between the cars, guys. And plus, the SUV will have more room than the sedan.”
“Exactly,” Seonghwa piped up. He marched over to the back doors of the SUV to safely deposit your things within. There was no need for you to be squished between Yeosang and Jongho in Yunho's comically tiny car, when you could be in the same car as him—no, wait. That wasn't what he meant—
“Well, this is just favoritism,” Yunho jested as he slammed his trunk shut. He shot you a sunny grin that made Seonghwa glance over at you for your reaction. Yunho's being half-siren always made his voice and gestures a little more silken and sweet than the rest of them. “Are you sure it's 'cause of the extra room and not because Wooyoung's cat is gonna be in that car?”
You chuckled, shrugging. As if on cue, a lithe feline in silky black fur trotted out from the bushes. She strutted over to you, purring as she wrapped her tail around your calf. “Okay, maybe you caught me,” you said, crouching down to pet Wooyoung's cat familiar.
Seonghwa was not going to be jealous over a cat. He was absolutely not. Some sleep would screw his head on straight—yes, sleep did sound nice. He didn't know what was up with himself this morning.
“Pretty sure she loves you more than she loves me,” Wooyoung pouted as he stuck his head out of the SUV's back window.
You picked the feline up with your hands, and she gave a crooning meow as you held her up to her witch through the window. “I wouldn't mind adopting her if she wasn't permanently bound to you.”
Seonghwa's eye twitched at the same time he and Hongjoong made eye contact.
The demon's mouth curled into a knowing, teasing smile—I see you. Seonghwa could feel the heat lift to the surface of his skin as he ducked into the car. He really needed a nap.
The remainder of the time was used swiftly as everyone finished packing things into your respective cars, including your bodies. About an hour later, you were well on your way out of the city.
As this was all nine of yours last year of university, this spring break needed to be a memorable one. Yeosang had heard talk through the grapevine of a collection of interlinking caves overlooking a small lake. It was located a few hours out of the city proper, but it would pose as a peaceful getaway for the week. Each of the small caverns were open facing, peering over the water's surface, and each was designed to be like rooms in a house. There would be enough for the boys to sleep two to a bed, with you getting your own.
The drive out of the city was an easy one. Seonghwa slept nearly the entire time, only waking up to a near-quiet car, save for Hongjoong's choice of music playing softly from the radio.
“'Morning,” Hongjoong murmured, taking his eyes off the road for a brief moment.
Seonghwa yawned and turned his eyes up and outward at the world around him. Concrete jungle had become emerald green trees speared with beams of buttery sunshine. He bet it smelled glorious. “Morning,” he said back quietly. “Are they still…”
His voice trailed off as he twisted around in his seat and took in the middle row behind him. You, San, and Wooyoung were squished arm to arm, thigh to thigh; Wooyoung's black cat familiar laid fast asleep in Wooyoung's lap, with Wooyoung's head against San, San's head against you, and your head against the car window. Seonghwa cooed to himself at the sight, carefully snapping a picture with his phone, before returning to face the front.
The remainder of the drive was swift, and as you approached the site of your home for the next several days, you all slowly began to wake up. Seonghwa rolled his window down and braced his arm over the open sill, a smile breaking onto his lips as he greedily inhaled the clean, crisp air.
His eyes flickered to the side mirror, locking gazes with you. For a moment, he held your eye contact. He watched your mouth curve into that pretty smile of yours that made his insides flutter, before you looked out at the forest again.
When Hongjoong's and Yunho's cars broke out of the trees and into the next clearing, everyone's breaths stole away.
“No way we scored this good,” San whispered in giddy excitement as he shoved his body between Hongjoong and Seonghwa to peer out the front windshield.
Before you stood a wide lake, its waters so clear that one could see straight to the bottom. The caverns that you would all bunker up in were on the far shore, stacked atop one another in two layers with four openings on the bottom and three on the top. A waterfall curtained off two of the cavern rooms as it flowed from the rocky outcropping that loomed over the lake, and into the lake itself; the sound was not thunderous, but a dull sort of roar that was almost muffled.
With the sun rising higher into the sky, its beams reflected off the cascading spray of water to create a small rainbow in the mist. Suffice to say, the view in front of you deserved its own magazine.
“Let's get our spring break on!” Wooyoung hooted as Hongjoong pulled the car around the shore of the lake to reach the base of the caverns.
As the day sank from late morning to early afternoon, you and your friends transferred all of your belongings from the cars and into the caverns. Rooms were decided by an efficient round of Rock Paper Scissors—you luckily scored first, and chose the most private room behind the waterfall for yourself.
Once everyone was settled, it became a race of who could get into the water—
“WAAAAHOOOO!” SPLASH!
—first.
Seonghwa peered out from the living room cavern on the second floor to see the bodies below take a running start into the lake. He chuckled to himself, leaning his hip against the wall with a can of soda in his hand as he watched his friends break the surface of the lake, one by one.
“You're not swimming?”
Seonghwa nearly fell forward and out of the open cave, down into the water. His hand slapped against the wall to catch himself, his heart practically tumbling out of his chest anyway.
To your credit, you looked apologetic, grimacing through a smile as you came to stand next to him. “Sorry. You didn't hear me come in?”
You had changed out of your T-shirt and shorts from earlier into a cropped tank top and loose skirt, a silver waist chain winking up at him from where it linked around your belly.
The thought shoved itself into his brain—that you would look terribly divine in his jewelry.
He swallowed, dragging his eyes up back to yours. “I didn't,” he admitted sheepishly. “Guess I was too focused on watching everyone else. Have you settled in alright?”
You had chosen the cavern bedroom right next to the living room, but it was the only bedroom on this level.
With a nod, you turned your gaze outward at the ocean of emerald green trees surrounding this little oasis. “I have,” you said pleasantly. “You?”
“Same here.” He carded a hand through his hair. “It's really quite beautiful here.” But not as beautiful as you.
You glanced over at him again, and he wondered if he could concoct enough things to say to keep your attention on him. “Oh, I definitely agree; it's a perfect paradise, really. The waterfall” — you inclined your chin to your left — “I think it'll be most beautiful at sunset.”
He lifted one of his brows and pushed off the cavern wall. “Oh? Why do you think so?”
“If the sunset faces us,” you explained, gesturing your hand out to the eastern horizon in the distance, “then it'll reflect its light against the waterfall. As the sun sinks down and lights the sky on fire, so too will it set the water aflame.”
Seonghwa could envision your words in his mind's eye as he took in the waterfall careening into the lake below. Its crystal blue waters were so clear that it undoubtedly would reflect the shades of the sunset, and become illuminated as you said—where water turned to flame.
A soft smile came to his face. What a gorgeous image.
“I bet it'd look incredible from the skies.” Your words drew him back to your face. You were already looking over at him, and his heart gave a loving lurch.
Seonghwa cleared his throat. “I agree. Have you been able to stretch your wings recently?”
You hummed, tilting your head from side to side. “Not super recently because I was locked inside to study for the last week or two. You?”
“Same,” he chuckled and reached behind his back to scratch at the nape of his neck. Usually, he tried to shift into dragon form at least twice a week to keep his wings strong, but when life got busy, it was difficult to find enough time to take to the skies. “Would—would you like to take a flight with me sometime?” He stammered, fumbling over his words. “Just, y'know, like a casual thing.”
Excellent, Hwa. The spitting image of confidence.
He sipped on his soda, already hearing Hongjoong's exasperated sigh in his ear.
Your smile softened at the corners. “I'd love to. After dinner, maybe?”
His shoulders loosened in relief. “Sounds like a plan.”
“This is your chance! It's a sign!”
Seonghwa frowned at his reflection in the vanity mirror as he played around with his dark curls. Tied up? Kept down? It really didn't matter; he was literally going to be a dragon for the majority of the time, but it never hurt to appear well-groomed before a potential… ahem, friend. A friend.
Hongjoong slumped down on the foot of their shared bed, a deadpan on his face when Seonghwa continued to ignore him. “Park Seonghwa, so help me, I will plant one of your anklets in her jewelry box—”
“And if you do that,” Seonghwa drawled as he gave up on his hair and reached for the tube of lip gloss on the vanity top, “I will tell that elven girl you've become so fond of about how you—”
“Okay, I got it,” Hongjoong cut in with a scowl. “Aish, so touchy. I'm just saying that this trip is the perfect opportunity to let her know how you feel, and to court her.”
Seonghwa knew that; of course, he fucking knew that. The thing was that if anything went poorly, you would practically be stuck here with him until the end of the trip. He cringed to himself at the mere awkwardness of that potential outcome. “It's just a wing stretch,” he reasoned aloud to himself. He grabbed one of the bottles of cologne on the table to spritz around his scent glands. “It's not like I'm going to offer her a necklace.”
“Yes, because you need to smell nice for a wing stretch.” Hongjoong fell back onto the bed with a grumble under his breath at Seonghwa's stubbornness.
Dinner had finished up about fifteen minutes ago, and while everyone departed to do their own activities, you and Seonghwa agreed to reconvene at the tops of the caves in five minutes for your planned flight together. The days were growing longer as spring waltzed toward summer, and thus, the sun reigned the skies for a lengthier period of time. The two of you would ideally circle back in time to watch the sunset hit the waterfall.
Seonghwa left Hongjoong to their quarters as he made his way up to the rocky outcropping at the top of the waterfall.
You were already waiting for him, your bare feet standing in the shallow end of the river leading down to the waterfall. You still had on the top and skirt from earlier, and as a light breeze wafted past, it blew through your hair and your clothes like a dream.
You glanced up at him. “Ready?”
“Whenever you are.” He grinned as the anticipation and excitement of breaking his wings free slowly bubbled up into his chest. It wasn't only being able to spend time with you, but simply the thoughts of being his dragon self that made him so giddy.
You hopped out of the river and padded across the soil toward him.
Once you were in line with him, Seonghwa flashed you a wide smile and sprinted toward the cliff edge. Your laughter followed him as he dove off toward the water below, eyes falling closed as he relished in the wind whipping past his skin.
When he opened his eyes, he skimmed the water's surface with the edge of a veiny, membranous wing, before swooping back up toward the ripening sky above. His humanoid features had fully transformed into that of a creature nearly five times his human height. Scales of obsidian, gleaming a dark blue in the light, rippled across his back, his skin. He huffed steam from his nostrils and searched for you.
A body of iridescent white, so pearly that you appeared a shade of light purple in the burning gold light, blurred in his periphery.
He whipped his head in your direction, watching you soar around him in a loose circle. You wrapped around him and grazed the end of your tail against his, a caress.
He didn't want to think too much about that.
And then your irises, blue-purple in this form, were blinking at him. Northward? Your snout gestured in that vague direction.
Seonghwa huffed his agreement, and the pair of you took off into the skies.
A dragon shifter's courtship traditions were different from other shifters’ cultures. For one, the value of wearing a potential mate's jewelry was equivalent to acceptance of courtship; additionally, wearing one another's jewels essentially spelled out a long-term partnership. It was similar to humans’ exchanging of rings.
Dragons dressed their mates in their own jewels as dragons were ruthlessly protective of their hoards of treasures, and a mate was even more precious than any jewel one could acquire. There were other rituals, too—such as dousing one another in dragonfire, performing a certain mating dance, consuming meals made by their mate—but the jewels had always been emphasized in Seonghwa's clan.
It was why he stiffened when he saw a slim, silver chain wrapped around your ankle this morning.
The piece of jewelry looked awfully similar to something he owned, except the one you wore was studded with an amethyst on the tail, whereas the one he owned was studded with sapphire. He struggled to swallow as he stepped into the kitchen, eyes pinned to your ankle.
The way the light refracted off the gem made the article appear so much like his own jewelry; his heart could not take a scare like that so early. Perhaps scare wasn't such an accurate word—he simply hadn't had the time to mentally prepare.
It didn't matter how long he'd fantasized about it. Seeing the real thing would likely bring him to his knees regardless.
“Hwa,” your amused chuckle greeted his ears as you peered at him from over the rim of your coffee cup. “Good morning.”
He tried for a smile and forced himself to look at something, anything, other than your ankle. “Hi. Good morning.” Seonghwa grabbed a cup of his own to pour a helping of the brew into. “Sleep well?”
You rolled your shoulders back, followed by your neck. But as he blew on the hot coffee, he failed to notice the way your eyes watched his movements regarding the coffee. “Mhm, way better after we flew last night.”
Seonghwa hummed warmly. “Yes, same here.” Last night was a blissful night of deep sleep. The tension between his shoulder blades had lessened considerably.
He took a gentle sip of his beverage, and the rich bittersweetness hit him as an alluring wakeup call. You were still watching as he took a larger gulp.
His eyes met yours. “Something wrong?” He asked, licking his lips.
Your eyes widened. “Nope,” you squeaked out. You coughed, setting your mug on the table to lace your fingers together. “Uhm so… thoughts on kebabs for lunch? I was gonna go hunting later.”
“Mmh.” Seonghwa drained his cup of coffee. “That sounds good. I can go with you—if you'd like,” he added swiftly. Sometimes hunting could be a therapeutic solo trip and he hoped he wasn't encroaching. Though, going hunting just the two of you sounded nice, too.
“I'd love the company,” you said. When you smiled, his own widened.
The brief moment of peace the two of you shared shattered as two bodies barrelled into the room, followed by another set of thundering footsteps behind them.
“YAH! Choi Jongho, I know this was all your idea!” Wooyoung appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, drenched from head to toe with dark and damp bangs hanging in his seething eyes. A puddle was beginning to form beneath him as he glared at the two giggling imps cowering behind the opposite end of the counter.
You and Seonghwa connected gazes across the chaos. Good grief.
From behind Wooyoung's calf, another creature poked her head out to hiss at the perpetrators. Wooyoung's cat familiar looked akin to a wet rat, the poor thing.
“Seonghwa hyung, do something!”
Seonghwa's eyes drifted over to Jongho and Yeosang, who flashed him a pair of sheepish smiles. “Aye… both of you. Now.”
“We didn't get water on San,” was what Yeosang offered with a shrug.
That seemed to not be the answer Wooyoung was looking for. If the witch was a dragon instead, Seonghwa was sure he would be blowing steam out of his ears. “Are you kidding me? I am going to hex you so badly, you will never know a day of peac—”
Jongho suddenly yelped, startling everyone as he leaped a couple feet in the air and ran to crouch beside you at the breakfast table.
“What, what? What is it?”
Yeosang's eyes had widened to the size of globes, too, as he scurried backward to the edge of the cavern. His stare was still pinned to something on the other side of the counter.
Seonghwa peered over the ledge and swore sharply. “That is the biggest fucking bug I have ever seen in my life,” he said with his hand pressed to his face, stressed.
Wooyoung had magically disappeared, and his cat had retreated alongside him. If even the cat didn't want anything to do with the big hunk of insect—
“AH-AH! HYUNG, IT'S MOVING!” Jongho screeched and grabbed the back of your chair to hide behind you.
Seonghwa paused at that action, but snapped out of it when he saw the legs peek out from around the corner. “Can someone get Yunho?”
“Ohhhhh, I'm too young to die,” the youngest whispered toward the ceiling, his face contorted in fear and anguish; it was a rare thing to see from Jongho. “Yn, please, flame its ass or something!”
You sputtered, curling your feet up onto your chair with you in case the bug came scuttling toward the table. “Uh no. Yunho would literally flame me if I did!”
“Screw what he thinks. He's not here right now.”
Seonghwa clambered up onto the counter and peered over the edge again. He slapped a hand over his mouth after seeing the bug for another time. “Okay,” he said carefully, “on the count of three, we're all going to run for the edge and jump into the lake.”
Three nods from around the room.
“One…” Everyone shifted an inch toward the cave opening. “Two…”
The fuckass bug moved.
The countdown was abandoned—Jongho ran for the opening and tackled Yeosang into the water. Seonghwa leaped over the remainder of the countertop in time to swan dive into the lake beside you. His body sliced into the water like a hot knife through butter, and the lake's cool temperatures engulfed him in a refreshing embrace.
Your head popped up right beside him and you shot him a laughing grin. “Well, that's definitely one way to start off the day.”
He laughed alongside you, slicking his wet hair back and out of his face. “I mean, we were gonna end up in the water at some point,” he mused.
“True.” Your eyes zeroed in on something just below his jawline. You swam a little closer, and Seonghwa's heart catapulted into his throat. “You have a little, uhm, watercress…”
Your fingers brushed over his collarbone as you gently plucked the strand of watercress out from the links of the necklace sitting on his sternum. You lifted the plant up as if to say, 'Ta da,’ before pausing at your physical proximity.
Seonghwa watched as a drop of water dripped down the middle of your face, down the slope of your nose, and slipped over your plush lips. Woah…
He had half the mind to reach out and thumb it away.
“Two dragons, a fae prince, and a water mage couldn't handle a fucking roach?”
You and Seonghwa jolted away from each other like similar poles of a magnet, heat rushing up to the surface of your skin. You both tilted your gazes up to the caves and saw Yunho appear at the mouth of the kitchen, a wide grin on his face as he held the bug up between his two fingers.
“That sounds like a joke I've heard before,” San laughed as he walked up next to Yunho. He waved down at the lot of you in the water, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
Wooyoung peered out from behind San. “Instant karma!” He hollered.
“Come down here, and we can talk about instant karma,” Jongho threw right back up at him. He flicked his wrist and sent a jet of lake water up to the cave mouth, hitting Wooyoung square between the eyes with scary accuracy.
San howled in laughter as his friend hissed from the friendly fire.
Seonghwa loosened a warm chuckle before turning toward you—wait. Where did you go? He twirled around in the water, eyes scanning the lake for where you'd gone.
“Hwa!” You were by the far shore, raising your hand up to wave him over.
He didn't hesitate to swim over toward you. The two of you swam over to the furthest edge of the lake, far from the others. The morning sun had not yet crested high enough to penetrate through the trees here, and that left you both in a patch of dreamy shade where long leaves dripped into the water like Mother Nature's curtains.
Seonghwa clambered out onto the bank and yanked the hem of his shirt up and over his head. The material had stuck to his skin like glue, and he was a lot more comfortable without it on.
Behind him though, he swore he heard your breath hitch.
The corner of his lips curled upward in satisfaction. He continued to feign ignorance as he wrung his wet shirt out, arm muscles flexing as the water trickled out of the fabric. “You coming up, love?” He asked casually, peering over his shoulder at you lingering in the water.
You cleared your throat as you pulled yourself onto land. “Y-yeah,” you said, covering your stammer with a breathy laugh.
“Cold?” He teased, finally turning his body to face you in full.
You passed him an expression of playful exasperation. “Freezing,” you jested back. It was difficult for dragon shifters to be cold; the amount of heat either of you generated on your own was enough to keep you warm all the time. After all, you did spew fire from your mouth on occasion.
Seonghwa whipped his shirt out in front of him and blew a breath of steam through it. The fabric dried up fast, but instead of putting it back on, he slung it over his shoulder.
An idea plunked itself into the forefront of his mind. “Shall we hunt?” He asked and extended a hand out to you.
He saw the flicker of blue-purple in your irises—like lightning—as you brushed a lock of hair from your eyes. You took his hand, your fingers and palms slotting together like matching clasps of a chain. “We shall.”
Seonghwa sat at the vanity table in his and Hongjoong's room. The world beyond the mouth of this cavern was a dark sapphire, embroidered with small diamonds in its fabric—the night sky and its stars. The muffled rush of the waterfall nearby played in the background as he sifted through his traveler's chest of jewelry and gemstones. Hongjoong had half fallen asleep in the hot spring somewhere behind him, so Seonghwa was taking this time to pick out what he wanted to wear to… tomorrow…
His hand movements stilled as something caught his eyes in the chest of shiny stones. He held his breath, carefully withdrawing a silver chain out by its amethyst stone. There was no question about what it was and that it didn't belong to him.
Your fragrance still lingered on the metal, though cool from being away from your body heat for a while.
Seonghwa breathed out loudly through his nose as he stared at the article in his palm.
He could hear Hongjoong emerging from the hot spring pool. “Something wrong, Hwa?”
“Did you” — Seonghwa's brows furrowed and he twisted around on the vanity stool — “steal her anklet?”
Hongjoong frowned, wrapping a towel around his waist before coming to stand beside his friend. He peered down at the article, reaching out to touch the anklet.
Seonghwa moved his hand away and his chest rumbled with a low growl.
A soft huff of amusement fell from Hongjoong's lips, and he settled his hand on Seonghwa's shoulder instead. “No, I wouldn't dare. I don't want to face a dragon's wrath for stealing from their hoard, thank you very much.”
“Hmph.” Seonghwa considered the article in his palm once more. If Hongjoong wasn't pulling his leg, then the logical answer was that you put your anklet in his jewelry chest. But why would you do that, and when did you? He would have smelled your scent lingering in this room if you had, and he couldn't pick up on any of his friends’ scents either.
A flower of hope blossomed in his chest as he thought about the implications of this gesture further. Maybe it didn't matter how it got here, only what you thought about it being here in his possession.
“It's a sign,” Hongjoong giggled, squeezing his shoulder. He trudged away to go find his sweatpants to sleep in. “Your move, Park!”
Seonghwa slowly wrapped his fingers around the chain, a small smile flitting onto his face. In the mirror, his cheekbones burned the color of the rubies in his jewelry case.
His move, indeed.
In the morning, Seonghwa rose before day broke the dawn.
It had come to him like a strike of lightning last night as he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, weighing the option of wearing your anklet like a lovesick fool or returning it to you in the morning. What he'd remembered, instead, was something you told him about your clan's traditions.
While his family held a lot more emphasis on adornment for mating traditions, your family clan put more importance on the act of making a meal for a potential partner. Consuming said meal was an acceptance of courtship and love.
As he hunched over the kitchen countertop pouring over a recipe on his phone, he marinated on how to go about this. Presenting you with breakfast—that he only made for you, might he add—was not a subtle move in the slightest. Perhaps slipping your anklet into his things could be interpreted a couple ways, but it wasn't a glaring neon sign like this gesture was going to be.
Nonetheless, Seonghwa got to work. He was counting on his friends to stay the fuck asleep.
About an hour later, he was just finishing up when he picked up on the sound of your bare feet padding across the hallway toward the kitchen. Your perfume followed next, carrying into the room on an invisible breeze. Seonghwa drummed his fingers against the countertop as you strolled into the room, eyes wide and bright when you saw him there with food made.
“Well, something smells yummy,” you said warmly. “Should I go wake the others?”
“No!” He laughed nervously, breaking into a bashful smile. “No need. This—this is just for you. I mean, I made breakfast for you.”
Your eyes seemed to grow even wider. “Break—breakfast for me? Just me?”
He nodded and wrung his hands in front of his body. “Just you… if that's okay.”
“Of course, that's okay. More than okay, really,” you murmured, eyes turning shy. The implications were too blatant not to miss or deny.
Seonghwa gestured for you to take a seat at the breakfast table and presented you with the hot and fresh plate of breakfast he'd just made. He claimed the seat across from you with his own plate, but didn't touch it yet. His nerves made his hands shake beneath the table as he watched you take your utensil and fork a bite into your mouth.
Something warm burst in his chest as you swallowed, then took another bite.
“It's really good,” you said to him between bites. Your mouth was pursed into a wide smile, a tenderness swimming in your gemstone irises. “I think though,” you murmured after swallowing, “that we need to talk.”
Seonghwa's stomach tightened, but he nodded. “Agreed. I, uhm, I found this in my jewelry case last night.” He pulled out the strand of silver and amethyst from his pocket. The metal and jewel glistened in the soft morning sunlight pouring into the open cavern.
“Oh, you didn't wear it?”
He went doe-eyed. “I wanted to—I just wanted to be clear about intentions first, just because if I wore this…” He stammered, “Then you'd be mine and I'd be yours.”
The wording of it made your pulse skip, but it was exactly what you wanted. All of this stumbling around each other, falling over yourselves, was for this purpose.
“Is that right, love?”
You nodded, as the two of you shared a smile in the glow of early morning. “That's right.”
He would be yours, and you would be his.
Breakfast was dined upon in peace with quiet murmurings exchanged between the two of you, accompanied by light laughter and loving gazes. It was a marvel none of it was interrupted by the other occupants of the lakeside getaway.
There was another thing that had to be done in order to seal the deal, however.
When breakfast was finished and cleaned up after, Seonghwa barged back into his and Hongjoong's shared bedroom. His demon best friend was nowhere to be found, but it was no matter. Seonghwa went over to the vanity table and carefully picked up the necklace he had laid out last night. It was white gold studded in fat, glistening rubies—his prized possession, and one of the few pieces he had saved for only his future partner to wear.
That giddy excitement curled in his stomach again as he took the necklace with him up to your bedroom on the second floor. You were there waiting for him, your foot braced on the vanity stool to fix his sapphire chain onto your ankle, as your amethyst one laid around his.
“This,” he murmured as he came up behind you in the mirror, “I've been saving for someone special.” He locked eyes with you in the looking glass, a sweet smile playing on his lips as he draped the heavy gems over your sternum.
Blood rubies were precious and harder to come by these days, which was why Seonghwa coveted them. It only made sense that they should rest now on a person he would also come to value even more. They sat perfectly upon your collarbones, like a tiara upon your head… like it was made for you. You were yourself a treasure.
Seonghwa could hardly contain his contentment at the sight. He wrapped his arms around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, smiling against your skin. “Perfect.”
a/n: don't forget to reblog + comment if u enjoyed!
atz m.list
permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @eunseok-s @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @synthwxve @empire-x @thecarnivaloflies @blankjournal @cromernet @atzhouse
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yeosang & a situationship
third on the chopping block is the man the myth the legend MR KANG YEOSANGGGG i kinda struggled a little so im sorry if its not as funny as the others 😣 (suggestive-ish, stupid once again, but not as much)
@atzhouse
© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
#atzhouse#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez smau#ateez kang yeosang#ateez yeosang#ateez yeosang x reader#ateez yeosang smau#kang yeosang#kang yeosang x reader#kang yeosang smau#yeosang x reader#yeosang smau#yunhoszn
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A Smile From Me To You. || Choi San.
Summary: sometimes, even a man like choi san gets jealous and insecure over the most trivial things. and sometimes, all it takes are your words to help him through it.
Pairing: choi san x fem. reader
Genre: fluff
Wordcount: 1.1k
Warnings: slightly suggestive at the end
A/N: happy (belated) birthday to one of the kindest people ever aka my yessabunnyboo aka @skteezcursed <33 i genuinely love you so much, the way you always listen to my ramblings and whining without ever complaining and the way you're so kind and sweet to everyone just shows what an amazing person you are and im so glad to have you as a friend. this fic here is super short and nothing special unfortunately, but i promise you a better one next year, just you wait!! as always divider credits to @firefly-graphics!
Taglist: @ghstzzn, @kyukyustar, @hwapetals, @foxinnie8, @preciouswoozi, @aussiekpopginger, @kitten4sannie, @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf
Available here on AO3.
“San,” you called out softly, leaning slightly toward him, “are you okay?”
Beside you, your lover was staring intensely at the TV, his lips pressed into a thin line. You’d noticed it about fifteen minutes ago, the way he suddenly went quiet, his comments getting less and less until he remained silent completely. At first, you thought he was just tired after a long day at work, but then you caught the way his eyes narrowed every time the lead actor came on screen.
It had started as a casual movie night, the two of you curled up on the couch under a warm blanket, enjoying each other's company like almost everyday. You had picked a romantic kdrama you'd been eyeing for awhile, something light and easy to watch, and San had agreed, though you knew it wasn’t exactly his favourite genre. He didn’t mind, though; he loved spending time with you no matter what you were watching. But now, after just two episodes, he was practically glaring at the TV, his arms crossed over his chest in silent protest.
He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze still fixed on the screen where the actor was delivering a heartwarming monologue in front of the female lead. It was only when you nudged him gently with your elbow that he finally tore his eyes away, setting his eyes on you instead.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, genuinely curious now.
San shifted uncomfortably, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled, though his tone suggested that there was, indeed, something.
You raised an eyebrow. “San, come on. You really suck at lying, and you know it. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. Finally, he muttered under his breath, “...You're smiling too much at him.
You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “Huh?”
“That actor,” he replied, getting more and more frustrated. “You’re smiling at him like way too much!”
It took you a full moment to process what he was saying, but when you finally did, you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped your lips. “Sannie, my baby, he’s an actor. On TV. He… he doesn’t even know I exist.”
San’s pout deepened, and he glanced back at the screen as if to verify if the actor was still on screen. Fortunately for him, he wasn’t, instead the female lead was seen with the other male lead you deemed as ‘annoying’. “But you were smiling,” he insisted, sounding almost hurt. “I saw it.”
Your gaze softened. This wasn’t just about that damn actor - it was about San’s insecurities, which he rarely showed. For all his confidence and charm, there were moments when he needed reassurance, when he worried that maybe he wasn’t enough, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Instead, it was you who would never be good enough for him. Choi San was the closest thing to perfection humanity could ever achieve; he was kind, funny, gentle, pretty, sexy and so, so much more
“San,” you said gently, reaching out to take his hand in yours, “It seems I haven't shown you how much you make me smile, hm? Have I made you feel neglected recently?”
“No, I… Well, what if you like him more than me? He’s good-looking, and-”
You cut him off, shaking your head firmly. “Stop right there. San, no one on a stupid screen or anywhere else could ever replace you. I mean, I was smiling at him, but no one will genuinely ever make me smile or laugh like you do.
San finally met your gaze, his expression softening just a bit, though he still seemed a little unconvinced. “But what if one day you smile for everyone else, even a stupid actor like him, except… me?”
In a way, this whole situation was weirdly endearing, really. No man would ever take it as seriously as him. You could truly see how much he wanted to be the one and only who made you smile, and it made your heart swell. San was always so passionate, so intense in his emotions, and that was one of the things you loved most about him.
You scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his shoulder. “San, I promise you, no one else can make me feel the way you do. You’re the one I love, the one I want to spend my time with. I’m sorry if I seemed a bit too distant lately.”
He didn’t respond right away, his eyes now focused on the way your fingers traced small circles on his side. After a few moments, he finally spoke, his voice quieter than before. “I just… I sometimes get too scared you're not enjoying our time together as much as I do. What if one day you decide that I'm just… too boring?”
You pulled back slightly to look him directly in the eyes. “You’re not going to lose me, San. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. If anything, I’m the one who's enjoying your company more than anything. Hell, I want to be with you 24/7 and it scares the shit out of me, because I've never felt this way before.”
He looked at you, really looked at you, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. When he found none, he let out a breath he’d been holding, his posture relaxing a bit. “God, this was so lame,” he admitted, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “I'm sorry for getting jealous over something so stupid.”
You smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “It’s not that stupid. It’s actually kind of… cute?”
San chuckled, though the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed how flustered he really was. “Cute, huh?”
“Very,” you confirmed, moving closer until your lips were just a breath away from his. “And since you’re just so cute, I think you deserve some extra attention.”
Before he could respond, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a kiss that was soft yet passionate. San responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the tension in his body melt away as you continued to pour all your affection into that single moment.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were slightly out of breath, but the smile on San’s face was worth everything.
“Still jealous?” you teased, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.
San shook his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Hmm.. maybe a little? I definitely wouldn’t mind a few more kisses though, just to be sure of course.”
You laughed softly, leaning in to give him exactly what he wanted. “I can also give you way more than just a kiss, just to really reassure you, hm? Would you like that?”
His dick immediately twitched at your words. “Of fucking course I'd like that.”
#wonderlandnet#cromernet#atzhouse#pirateeznet#ateez fanfiction#atiny#ateez fluff#ateez scenarios#ateez#ateez au#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez imagines#ateez reactions#ateez san#san atz#atz x reader#atz fanfic#atz#san fluff#san fanfic#choi san#san x reader#choi san x reader
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Angel
Idol!Park Seonghwa X Fem!Reader
🍬 - pure fluff
Authors Note: Why hello there, Angel. Surprise surprise, haru is back with yet another random mini fic that they had absolutely no plans for but are too busy to write longer things! I made a custom wheel to decide what I would write for you guys today! I’ll probably use said wheel a lot in the future since no one really sends in requests:< I do hope you guys enjoy this fluff fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3
Warnings: None! Seonghwa is an absolute sweetheart, Clingy!Seonghwa, reader calls seonghwa “an angel sent from above” Triggers: none as far as I’m aware!
Park Seonghwa. Just hearing the love of your lifes name had a bright smile coming to your lips. That man. The man who swooped in and changed your whole life. For the better, obviously.
It was pure luck that Seonghwa just happened to walk into your cafe that fateful day right after your boyfriend of 2 years had dropped you. His reason? You weren't ready for sexual intercourse and he couldn't live with that. Instead, he had gone out every weekend for the past seven months and cheated on you with a woman named Kana.
Seonghwa risked scandal and saved you from a particularly mad businessman who claimed his order was wrong. It wasn't. It was a habit to reread not only a customer's order several times but also how to make the order.
The man clearly just wanted to get his order for free, many people had tried the same thing before. You always gave them the same response though. That you were sure it was right, but if it wasn't, you'd toss the current and replace it with the right order without a refund.
This made the customer angrier, threats spewing out of his mouth at you until Seonghwa stepped in.
You were grateful his usual cafe was shut down on that day, because otherwise you never would've met him.
You wouldn't be where you currently were. Laid in Seonghwa's arms as he slept. Just laid there admiring his beauty. He had beautiful pink hair when the two of you had met, but over the years together he had done so many different things with it before leaving it black.
Black was definitely his color. His hair felt so, so soft as you ran your fingers through it. Burying your face further into his chest.
It was moments like this you treasured most with him. You didn't get them often anymore. 2024 was Ateez's year and unfortunately that called for your sweet boyfriend to be away more.
Making as much time for you as he could, which you appreciated more than he could ever know. There had been plenty of relationships before for others that hadn't worked out because one partner was too clingy and the other had no time for them.
You and Seonghwa weren't like that though.
Gently unraveling his arms from you to go start on breakfast, just for him to snatch you back to him. Looking down to him to see if he was awake, but he wasn't. Or so you thought.
Attempting again, but stopping once his beautiful voice rung out, deep and raspy, filled with sleepiness.
“ Stop trying to leave me. ”, “ I was going to start on breakfast for you, My Love. ”, “ It can wait. Just lay with me for a while. I wanna spend as much time with my beautiful girl as possible. ”
You couldn't hold back the smile that immediately came to your lips at his words. Relaxing into his grasp and wrapping your arms gently around him.
“ You are a beautiful Angel sent from above, Park Seonghwa. ”, you spoke before shutting your eyes to sleep with your lover a while longer.
Unfortunately because of this the two of you slept through both breakfast and lunch, but you didn't seem to care much. You were both glad to have been able to spend a little extra time with each other. You and your Angel.
Park Seonghwa, was nothing short of an ethereal being sent from above to care for you
Authors ending note; What did my Angels think of that? Short but sweet like I said! I am working on the Jin fic slowly, but I don’t know when I’ll have that out due to moving, so hopefully this suffices for now! I will be working on another Quackity fic soon as well as a possible Chan fic that I think you guys would like, I’ll do a poll to see what you guys think though! Until next time, My Angels 🫶
#kpop#ateez#ateez atiny#ateez obsession#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez gifs#ateez scenarios#atiny#ateez oneshots#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez seonghwa#ateez park seonghwa#ateez series#atz#atzsource#atz x reader#atzhouse#seonghwa#atz park seonghwa#park seonghwa#park seonghwa x reader#park seonghwa ateez#park seonghwa smut#seonghwa ateez#seonghwa x reader#seonghwa icons#seonghwa gifs
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S1E6: yunho fell harder
synopsis = the ‘college experience’ for some it includes joining a frat/sorority or parties every night or drowning in the amount of school work. but for y/n it means making a podcast with her friends…
previous/next
smau masterlist
taglist:
@atzhouse , @boomhoon , @sanasour , @loonaluvz , @mingis-mizu, @catchingskzzzs
#atzhouse#ateez smau#ateez yunho#ateez x reader#ateez au#ateez fluff#atz smau#atz fluff#atz au#atz x reader#yunho smau#yunho x reader#yunho fluff#yunho au
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hiiiii <333 I have lovedddd lovvvveeeddd alll of your works I actually spent my day reading each and everyone of them I love it so muchhh!! 😭❤️
I have a request teehee, could you write one where Sannie is like a professor in your college and there’s little teasing here and there and where he ends up having her alas!! DOM - SAN ‼️💋
his favourite
<prof!san x fem!reader>
Prof Choi likes playing favourites.
You’re his favourite.
Genres/Warnings: smut, dom professor Choi San, pwp, face fucking, unprotected sex, oral (m receive) ,mutual pining, age gap, size kink, cream pies, mild jealousy plot, sir kink, light bondage (just tying up reader) teasing, sexual tension, teaching assistantxteacher obv forbidden but we still eat it up anyway!
Word count: 12.3K
a/n: happy birthday to the man of my dreams </3 enjoy this little choi san birthday treat. i put my love into this so please love this as much as i did! and thank you @bro-atz for the tidbits of help as always 🩷
apply for taglist here!
You stare at the laptop screen, scanning through your details on the application form, double, and triple checking that everything was filled in correctly.
“Which professors are you trying as a teaching assistant for?” Your roommate asks, her neck craning over to see you attaching the file to six different emails, to six different professors within the department, pretty much answering her question the moment she reads off each professor’s email.
“Why not try for the department chair?”
You scrunch your eyebrows as if it’s the first time you’re hearing that.
“Who?”
“Professor Choi?”
Your eyes widen, your neck almost getting whiplash from how fast you turned to your roommate at the sound of his name.
“Why the fuck would I try him?”
Your roommate shrugs in an attempt to hide her amused reaction from your reaction at his name.
“Who knows? I’m confident he remembers you even though you spent only one semester with him”, she hums turning away to pour herself another ice drink from the pitcher. “On a serious note, you may as well just get all the help you can get. Besides, what are the chances that Prof Choi sees your email? He’s the department chair. I’m sure his mailbox is just flooded anyway.”
True, you think to yourself, turning your head back to your laptop, and adding the professor’s email address in. But you still hesitate, staring at the application form, your cursor hovering over the send button. Your roommate looks over at you, and she decides that your wishy-washy behaviour is just being the biggest nuisance on earth, so her hand flies over yours and helps you to press send, and she watches you freak out at her while she giggles and escapes after committing her crime, chasing your roommate around the kitchen island for a good seven minutes.
Settling back down in defeat, you sigh in your hands, giving yourself pep talks.
Right.
The chances are close to zero that Prof Choi will see my application anyway.
The chances of him remembering me are close to zero anyway.
You shut your laptop, and the applications are completely erased from your mind.
“Yo, check your emails, babe. The application results are out for me”, your roommate says, her eyes glued to her laptop screen.
You settle yourself down across her, a chilled drink in your hand, pulling up your email inbox. As you expected, you see the subject headline ‘Teaching Assistant Application Results’, and you expand the email.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you mutter, loud enough for your roommate to hear. Her head pops out from behind her screen.
“Who did you get?”
“Choi San.”
Professor Choi San. His classes weren’t the bane of your existence—but he, himself was.
And the fact that it only took one semester to solidify that claim. Almost everyone wanted to get into his class, so fucking many of them just squealing over how he looked almost god-like. You wonder how much of a swoon he would be, how much of the rumours that travelled down the stream were factual, though with thousands of students constantly fighting for a spot in his class, you sure were coloured surprised when you landed a spot in Professor Choi’s class.
The moment he walked in, the whispers within the confines of the lecture hall erupted into gasps and squeals. Unfortunately, the rumours were right—the moment ProfessorChoi walked in, it was as if your eyes naturally followed his movement—confident strides in his steps dictated by his outfit—a simple dress shirt under a dark gray vest that accentuated his wide shoulders and skinny waist.
He was so fucking handsome—his hair neatly slicked back, frameless glasses sat on his nose bridge, his sharp and small eyes hiding behind the lens. Undoubtedly, seeds of infatuation began lodging themselves in you. Well, it’s not like you had a chance with him anyway, especially when the gold band reflected from his ring finger being a huge indicator. Maybe keeping him as an eye candy would work out just fine.
Prof Choi’s classes were interesting, and he as a professor, other than being a distraction during the majority of his classes, held his credentials. However, at times, some sarcastic comments would bubble to the surface, and even though he did tend to commend top-scoring students for tests, he still maintained professionalism for the most part—the content taught wasn’t rocket science anyway. You saw yourself being able to breeze through the syllabus for the most part until you received your grade for one of your essays. You stared at his comments, marked in red lines, circles, and words—tone cold and direct—not that you weren’t used to it, but this time? You felt his comments alongside him marking you down were completely unjustified.
It was then that you pushed past the group of girls who would stay back after class to shamelessly flirt with him, under the guise of wanting to discuss more about the content taught that day, and you stood before the group, asking to speak to Prof Choi personally. Prof Choi did have people staying back after class to consult with him about grades, although they would stay shortly with him staying stern to his marking rubrics, but when he realised you weren’t backing down on top of the way you approached him so directly, it intrigued him.
His office was spacious, considering that he was the department chair—and without introductions, he had you dive in immediately in consultation.
You wasted no time, flipping through the spent pages of your essay, pointing out areas where you felt his comments were unjustified. Prof Choi listened, and he refuted your points, some of which you decided to accept but not for one particular part;
“This part had no proper scientific support of your argument for this point-“
“Bullshit”, you cut him off. Prof Choi blinked, shocked at the blunt cut from you. His eyebrows were scrunched in confusion next, wondering if he heard right that a student not only just cut him off, but cussed at him.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s here. A small significance value is still something isn’t it?” You replied, pointing at the paragraph after. He glanced at the paper once more, forcing himself to focus while you fought back that your argument was supported.
So you made Prof Choi sit before you and listen to your elaborations, and needless to say, he was rather impressed, although he had to hold his expression neutral.
You came out of the consultation victorious—the day Prof Choi called you over after his class again, handing you your script, and you saw your total marks shooting up to a gorgeous score. Your head was so into the clouds that you returned a smirk along with a shrug—showing off your victory and satisfaction as your thanks—an I told you so, leaving the professor to stare after you in awe while you practically skipped to your seat.
That sealed your fate.
From then on, Prof Choi would have his attention on you—recognising which seat you picked to sit in in class, wondering why you hadn’t dared sit nearer. And when it came to picking people to answer questions, his gaze would fly to you immediately—either waiting to call you out once you raised your hand or simply calling you when he felt like it. For some sick reason, he finds the way your face scrunches up in stress when he calls your name in his honey-soaked voice amusing, and even adorable at times, though he would never admit it. But oh, did he love the comments and answers you would give him.
Despite that assignment being the only one where you decided to consult Prof Choi, following every grade release of an assignment, he would single you out, especially after class, to fucking ask if you had questions regarding said assignment, which honestly started to freak you out—mostly because he never gave you the attention before, and you weren’t used to it. The whispering gossip in the class about you being the teacher’s pet slowly reached your ears too, and even Prof Choi heard it—and he only exacerbated that rumours by constantly giving you his attention.
Every time you reached your dorm, the words that left your mouth which your roommate could recite verbatim, “I swear to god, Prof Choi has it out for me!”
Not to mention you were fucking relieved when the last day of his class rolled around, but unfortunately, his parting words to you were, “I’m sure I’ll see you around, y/n”. You did everything in your power to avoid getting into his class and even bumping into him, which seemed to work swell.
Until now that is.
Now here you are again, standing before the familiar heavy wooden door, staring up at the wooden plate, embossed with gold lettering “Department Chair Choi San” staring right at you. You had to physically drag yourself off your bed to prepare for the first day partnered with Prof Choi. And when your roommate’s words of “oh come on, he can’t be that bad. He’s hot!”, echoed through your ears, it all the more made you want to just ditch your first day by clawing your eyeballs out.
You had to collect yourself before Prof Choi collected you.
With a raised knuckle, you rap against the door, taking deep inhales in the process. His voice, which sounded deceivingly like honey, remained the same as you remembered.
“Come in.”
You pause for a moment, embracing yourself before holding onto to doorknob and pushing his door open.
There he was, Professor Choi, his eyes focused on the scripts on his desk, which had piled up. His space remained the same as you remembered, for the most part—shelves littered with awards and files, the same desktop taking up one-quarter of his huge ass desk, and the couch with the coffee table left to the side of the room. Prof Choi wore a stern look of concentration on his face, still preoccupied with finishing up marking his scripts.
When his pen pauses and his gaze shifts towards the door, a small smile spreads across his face. He lifts his head and drops his pen, interlocking his fingers on his desk with growing amusement when his eyes meet yours.
Fuck, he’s still so handsome.
“Professor Choi”, you greet, holding your expression neutral as you bow, forcing yourself not to fidget with your tote bag.
“Y/n!” Prof Choi greets almost too enthusiastically. “I would assume you would be more than delighted when I picked you to be my teaching assistant.”
“Honoured, almost”, you reply. It’s taking all of your energy not to break his gaze. He’s staring at you with unreadable eyes, and you’re wondering if the fluttering in your chest is from the anxiety or the way Prof Choi is staring at you.
Prof Choi laughs, and it tickles your ears a little too good.
“Sit. We have a lot to go through today”, he gestures to the seat before him, and you take it.
He switches on his monitor to his course syllabus and turns the monitor slightly towards you.
“Oh, before we begin, it’s a pleasure meeting you again, y/n.”
Oh boy, was being Prof Choi’s teaching assistant a fucking handful. You knew it was gonna be rough, but to be assisting Professor Choi San? He was on another level—his schedule would be filled to the brim with meetings with the faculty on top of conducting classes weekly. You struggled in your first month, learning the ropes, especially from a busy and challenging professor like him. He wasn’t mean or cold at all, on the contrary, more direct and meticulous. Well, he had to be, considering his position. Nonetheless, it felt like he was always too busy to attend to your questions sometimes, and that would leave you to your own devices.
You stand in the aisle, looking down at the assortment of foods lined up in the chiller. Has Prof eaten yet? Does he even eat? What does he even eat? By instinct, you pull out your phone and open his chat.
[you]: Hi Prof. Have you eaten? I’m at the convenience store near the campus. I could grab something quick for you.
A couple of minutes go by, but your phone doesn’t receive a ping, and you had to reach the office soon. So you pick up another tuna rice ball for the professor alongside yours before making a beeline for the cashier.
Prof Choi hears the knock on his door and as usual, he utters his usual “come in”. His gaze lands on you, and he glances at the clock.
“You’re on time today”, he points out.
You furrow your eyebrows, confused. “I’m always on time, Professor.”
“You’re usually in a little earlier.”
“Right, because I got you this”, you reply, rustling through the plastic bag in your hands, fishing out the rice ball.
He looks up at you, confusion hinted in his expression. He doesn’t take the food yet.
“What’s this?”
“Tuna rice ball. Surely only having coffee in the morning is not filling your stomach.”
You put the food in front of him. “Besides, I messaged you but you didn’t reply. So I just chose something safe. Unless you’re telling me you’re allergic to tuna or something.”
Prof Choi blinks. His hands reach out to take the snack from the desk, unwrapping the plastic packaging as he watches you leave his office to grab a mug of coffee. He glances over at his phone, and sure enough, your name is there with your message.
Since then, his reply would pop up in mere minutes whenever you asked him if he wanted anything to eat.
Of course, the more you spent time with him, the more you grew comfortable, and all the thoughts you ever stressed about slowly faded off. Prof Choi grew more relaxed around you, internally grateful that you’re able to tank a significant fraction of his workload for him. Undoubtedly, you also come to realise that Prof Choi is human after all—he obviously would make mistakes, even as someone of his caliber, and deep inside, you found it rather cute, well, until you had to stop yourself from developing deranged thoughts.
Not to mention, another problem seemed to pop up—his flirty banter. He likely picked up that it made you flustered sometimes, and since then, he wouldn’t let it go, relishing at the way pink creeps up your cheeks when he would say something that wasn’t like his ‘professor-self’, and at worst, feeding into your crooked thoughts.
You stare at him as he types away, particularly, the metal band around his ring finger. You wonder who was the lucky lady who had the chance to be with him. You blink.
What the hell were you thinking?
“It’s rude to stare, you know”, Prof Choi’s voice snapping you out of your daydreams.
“I’m just wondering about your ring, that’s all”, you reply, forcing your attention back to your half-marked assignments.
“I’m not actually married”, he suddenly confesses, and for some reason, it makes your heart beat slightly faster.
“Huh?” Is all you manage to reply.
Prof Choi chuckles. He pauses his work on the desktop, turning his attention to you. Even though you have worked so closely with him for a while already, you can never seem to find your composure around him.
Even though you see his face every week, you can’t seem to wrap your head around how insanely good-looking he is, how sometimes you struggle to maintain eye contact with him, because it doesn’t take long before you feel yourself slowly flushing.
“I wear it on my ring finger so the students stop asking about my marital status”, Prof Choi clarifies. You watch him pull the ring from his ring finger and fit it over his index.
“So you’re single”, you echo.
He nods, “I’m single.”
What is this strange feeling of relief?
“What about you?” He suddenly asks. You’re not looking directly at him, and you don’t realise the way he’s looking at you attentively. And if you do, you just might combust.
“I’m…single too”, you answer, trying to meet his gaze, fidgeting with the red pen in between your fingers.
“And why’s that? Too busy fighting with your professors for grades?”
You glare at him.
“I think it was my professor picking fights with me”, you reply quickly, jabbing right back at him.
You watch Prof Choi lower his gaze, a smile spreading across his cheeks—an actual smile—his dimples showing up. Oh fuck. Just when you thought you could depend on your ribcage to contain your heart properly, you found out Prof Choi could actually smile.
When he looks up at you again, you break the eye contact, your gaze flying back to the papers before you.
“You know, I’ve met many students, but you were the first to cuss out at me.”
You did? “I did?”
Your professor nods, cocking his eyebrow at the way you had seemed to have simply forgotten something as eventful as that.
This time, Professor Choi bursts into a chuckle, completely amused by your reaction.
“Is that why you kept-“
“Giving you chances to answer in class for credit? You should really thank me for that. Your grade for my class was one of the highest you know.”
You feel your cheeks flush. But before you can retaliate, Prof Choi cuts you off.
“Jokes aside, no. I think the discussion we had that afternoon had an impression on me. The cherry on top was you cussing at me. I liked that. Refreshing and endearing”, Prof Choi continues, his attention seeping back to the pile of scripts before him.
“I think this side of Professor is pretty refreshing and endearing too”, you let it slip.
His pen pauses in mid-air. You don’t catch his gaze completely softening on you.
As the semester continues on, you began easing into the class schedules. You watch prof get swarmed by a group of students, a usual ritual that happens right when the class ends. At this point, you had grown used to it. Sometimes the students would come and approach you instead, which honestly surprised you, but your heart would feel warm, knowing that these students trusted you.
It was then you became acquainted with another teaching assistant under Prof Choi, who joined shortly after you did—Choi Jongho. Initially, he came off as a rather shy individual, but the both of you warmed up quickly with each other, sharing the workload and bonding over gossip with each other. Gosh, was he fucking amazing with gossip, especially when it came to Professor Choi. Soon enough, the both of you were texting almost on a regular basis, the conversations weighing more towards academic topics sprinkled with a little gossip.
“You’re going off with Choi Jongho?”
“Yeah”, you reply, bunching the papers in your hands. “I’ve got some things to discuss with him about.” Partially true.
For some reason, even though your professor has been completely swamped with papers to grade and meetings to attend, you would always find him loitering around your desk from time to time. He seems to especially enjoy doing that when you’re around.
“You’ve been spending an awfully lot amount of time with him”, Prof Choi points out, looking over your shoulder as he watches you scribble on another student’s paper.
“Yeah, we get along well actually. Isn’t that a good thing, Prof? Both your teaching assistants are besties.”
For some reason, that makes Prof Choi frown, but you’re too absorbed in your work to notice it.
A couple of minutes go by, and you still feel his presence, not that you mind, but you’re starting to find it peculiar that he’s been hanging around your desk a lot recently.
“Do you have something to discuss with me, prof?” You ask, eyes still glued to the paper.
“Yes”, he replies, taking another sip from his mug. “What do you think of Choi Jongho?”
Such a random question to ask, you think. Maybe he’s just making sure you and Jongho get along well?
You pause, giving yourself to think, tapping the back of the red pen against your bottom lip, taken aback by Prof Choi’s sudden question, but the conversations you and Jongho had resurfacing into your brain, and a giggle escapes you, which makes Professor Choi subconsciously narrow his eyes and furrow his brows.
“He’s fun to be around, and despite how he looks, he’s actually got a wicked sense of humor. Oh god, wait. Let me tell you what you he did that day while we were having lunch together-“
You turn your head to continue to run your mouth, only to slowly trail off when realise his face is just inches from yours, and you swear your heart is on a treadmill from the lack of distance between you and Prof Choi. It’s as if time paused, the both of you sinking right into each other’s gazes. You can’t help but notice how intense his gaze is, and you can’t seem to decipher his thoughts, but from the way this situation played out, you swore he’d just lean in and kiss you.
Your heartbeat accelerates at the thought—why would he do that?
And when his fingers are on your chin, your rational thoughts are getting flushed out.
“That’s an awful lot of cute things about Choi Jongho. I’ve never heard you talk about another Choi like that.”
You swallow hard, your body still frozen in spot.
“What do you think about him then?”
“Jongho? I was just-“
“No. Choi San.”
Oh god. You could only stare back at him. Prof Choi tilts his head, his eyebrows raised, waiting for his answer. His cologne floats and almost shuts down your senses—has he always smelled this good?
The corner of his lips curl slightly at the way you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights.
“I t-think Prof-“
“San. Choi San”, he corrects you.
Another hard swallow the more you try to focus your gaze on him.
“I think Choi San’s a great professor. He’s really competent, a lot softer than he presents himself as-“
Fuck you can’t think. Not when he’s staring down your eyes to your lips like that.
“Mmhm.”
“And he’s really so-“
Then a loud knock echoes across the room, breaking the tension. Prof Choi’s body doesn’t shift, but he looks up at the door, shouting “door’s unlocked”, before he stands back upright, adjusting his glasses and walking back to his desk.
Jongho’s head peeks in, then he bows at Prof Choi before he walks to your desk. You stare up at him with a forced smile.
“Ready to go? I was waiting for your message”, Jongho says, his eyes glancing over the professor, then you, a strange feeling that he probably interrupted something.
You nod, while shoving your belongings into your bag, then slinging it on your shoulder.
Barely being able to look at Professor Choi, you still force yourself to, bowing goodbye to him.
“Thank you Prof Choi. See you tomorrow.”
He looks up from his desk, right into your eyes.
“See you too, y/n.”
You can’t help but wonder how far things would have gone if Jongho didn’t knock the door.
Jongho isn’t an idiot. Initially, he assumes that you and the professor were on much friendlier terms considering that you came in before he did. Granted, the workload he would give the both of you was the same, he would take the initiative to have lunch with the both of you both individually and together whenever he had pockets of free time, but what roused his awareness was the lingering glances Professor Choi would cast at you from time to time, the way he seemed to relish the reactions you would give him whenever he teased you.
He notices the way your ears would grow red even when you roll your eyes at the professor and jab him with another playful snarky remark.
Though he wonders how dangerous things could get, Jongho thinks this could get interesting.
The semester continues smoothly, the only change being that Jongho being absent from the office more often due to his other commitment to soccer. You remember him telling you he had quite a big match coming up, the sparkle in his eyes bright and twinkling whenever he talks about said sport.
If he wasn’t in classes, he’d be off for training, hopping into the office from time to time to pass Professor Choi marked scripts and reports. Prof Choi pretty much didn’t mind—he stated as long as Jongho did his job, he could be free to do what he wanted outside of being a teaching assistant.
Needless to say, the office was mostly Prof Choi and you, now even more time spent with him with Jongho mostly being absent. By then, the both of you had grown so accustomed to being in each other’s presence that banters amongst each other became the norm—the both of you competing with each other with unserious remarks, laced with almost flirtatiousness, just to see who would back down first.
Then came the proximity—since Prof Choi would wander over your desk as if he had all the free time in the world, he would somehow strike up another conversation with you, leaning over to hear you better, his arm bumping into yours to look over at the papers you were grading to check if you were doing them correctly. But what he absolutely adores the most is when you’d roll over to his desk to pester him with your questions—sometimes even testing him on his own content.
He likes the way he gets to be closer to you. He likes the way your shoulders touch his when you lean in to push the paper towards him so he can see the script better.
He likes the way you would finally look up and meet his eyes when you’re done formulating your question, waiting to hear his opinion.
Today is no different—Professor Choi being so used to the notion that he would only be seeing you in the office, the corner of his lips pull upwards at the thought of the types of banter you would have with him, the kinds of shenanigans you would bring into the office.
He hears your knock at the time you would always arrive, watching the way the door opens, and your head popping from the door, as you greet, “Hi Prof!”
“Good morning, y/n”, he would greet back, sipping on his morning coffee.
You walk over to his desk, dropping his tuna rice ball. “Here you go. Enjoy your breakfast, Prof!”
“You can stop calling me Prof”, Prof Choi suddenly says, twirling the pen in his hand. For a second, you wonder what triggered the sudden change. You’ve been calling him Prof since day one, pretty much used to it already, the only time you didn’t was when he—never mind. The thought of it is making your face flush again.
“Is there something else you want me to call you?” You ask, trying to calm your heartbeat down when that memory suddenly resurfaces.
“You can call me San. I’m fine with that. I know you’re still my teaching assistant but we’ve been working closely. I think it’s fine to drop the Prof honorific.”
You try out.
“Sure thing San”, you reply. “Though it’s gonna take a while for me to get used to this.”
“If you’re able to cuss in front of me, calling me by my name should be the least of your worries, y/n”, San teases.
You raise your hand, feigning a stance ready to smack him before you lower your arm, listening to the way San laughs before rolling your eyes and sinking into your desk.
The day marches on as normal—attending a class or two with Jongho before he’s whisked away to his soccer practice, leaving just the two of you for the rest of the day.
San is leaning at your desk again, looking at you typing out your report. He squints slightly before he leans down to your shoulder, his finger pointed at one of the paragraphs, asking you about the content. You answer him, and when you turn your head once you’re done, you find yourself looking at San’s side profile mere inches away—his sun-kissed skin, his pretty lashes, his thick, well-trimmed eyebrows, and the way his lips protrude out a little—he always looked like he’s pouting in the most adorable way.
That’s when you realise a problem seemed to be bubbling up to the surface, try as you might to ignore it, repress it—that you’re falling for your professor. Fast.
You snap back to reality, finally aware of how loud your heart is beating against your rib cage, and your hand flies up in instinct as a divider between you and San. San blinks at the sudden movement, confused.
“Y/n, what are you doing?” He’s not moving.
“I think I’ve got something on my face.”
San cocks an eyebrow. “You do? Let me check-“
His palm covers yours, bringing it down to the table, and you’re kicking yourself for sprouting such a self-sabotaging lie.
Why? Because now San has his hand on yours on top of his face in full view of yours, his eyes meeting yours before his gaze flutters around your face, checking for whatever hell you said was on your face.
His gaze meets yours and for a split second, something else glints in his eyes.
The door swings open, and San straightens himself up, slightly irritated at the interruption, leaving you to spin your chair away from San, your hands cupping your cheeks, the heat warming you up against the cold air conditioner. The heat from his hand on yours lingers for a little longer.
Jongho walks in, his duffel slinging on his shoulder with his shoe bag clipped.
“Hey, Prof. Hey cutie.”
San blinks. What did he just call you?
“Hey jjongie. Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” You ask, forcing yourself to focus on your colleague instead.
“Supposedly, yeah, but there was a sudden downpour midway so training got cancelled. Might as well get some work done here”, he shrugs, dropping his bag onto the floor.
San is wrapping his head around the fact that you and Jongho seem to have pet names for each other.
“Didn’t miss me too much right?” Jongho teases. “‘Cause I did!”
“That’s a first coming from you jjongie”, you reply, surprising a smile.
“Of course! It’s been a while, how could I not? We should go eat dinner together sometime.”
San only stares on in silence, pretending to sink back into his grading.
Jongho walks over to your desk, taking his turn to look at your report. San watches the way Jongho’s arm is comfortable over your seat, as he asks you about your report, talking to you as if San wasn’t just behind you seconds before.
The fact you’re entertaining him—hitting his arm playfully and laughing at his remarks—all the more rouses some kind of irritation in San. It’s like a boiling pot.
He pretends he doesn’t see the way Jongho leans in to whisper something into your ear although it’s bugging him so fucking much. For once, he wishes Jongho’s training didn’t cancel.
“Oh right before I forget”, Jongho mutters, rushing back to his desk, digging through his bag. He walks back over with a paper in hand and places it before you. You glance down and your face brightens up—it’s a ticket to his game.
“For real?” You exclaim, your eyes bright, taking the ticket in your hands. “I’ll definitely make time for you.”
“I’ll score goals for you, kay?” Jongho teases, his eyes glancing at San, who is progressively looking more irritated.
“Ah, Is San not going?”
“San? Since when were you on first name basis with him?” Jongho wonders aloud, the suspicion only brewing even more.
“Jongho, don’t you have reports to hand in?” San asks curtly.
You feel like you are caught in between crossfire for some reason.
Jongho smiles, then has your head under his arm, which elicits another irritated reaction from your professor.
You have never had Jongho done this before. In fact, you recall him offhandedly mentioning that he’s never a physical touch person, and that anything with physical touch makes him shudder.
“Relax, Prof. You’d rather your subordinates get along than not right?”
Just when San is about to reply, Jongho suddenly exclaims.
“AH, coach is calling me back to the field. Prof, I’ll send you the report by tomorrow okay? See you guys!”, Jongho hums as he runs back to his desktop to turn it off.
“Has he always been like that?” San wonders aloud, his eyebrows furrowed.
“I guess. It’s actually what makes him cute.”
“Cute? You think Jongho is…cute?”
“Is he not? Doesn’t he remind you of a bear? Big and cuddly.”
San clears his throat, and you watch him walk over to your desk, his hand resting on the tabletop. He leans in.
“So… you find it cute when he gives you pet names?”
“Well, I mean-“
“You find it cute when he plays with your hair?” San curls your locks around his fingers.
You can’t seem to get words to leave your throat.
“You find it cute when he has his hands all over you like that?” He’s leaning in even closer this time, arms trapping you at either side.
“Prof-“
“No. It’s sir.”
Your mind is in a whirlwind at the way he’s towering over you, his scent the only thing filling your olfactory senses, the way he’s staring right into you, gaze sharp as a blade.
“You find it cute when his touches run up your body like this?” His fingers are trailing up your arms, every touch he burns into your skin, and when his thumb pauses at your chin, you realise you’re royally fucked.
Once more, his face is mere inches away from yours. You wonder if you’ll be teased like two previous times before.
“Of course you don’t. You’d rather I do that to you, right?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Yes, sir.”
His voice is barely a whisper, his eyes downcast, staring at your lips like it’s his reward to claim.
“Good girl.”
Of course, he claims it.
His kisses are so greedy—his lips prying yours open, and you feel yourself completely give in to him, surrendering whatever resistance, rationale, repression to Choi San.
You want more—you want seconds. Every swipe his tongue passes your lip, it makes your head float. How does someone taste this fucking good?
He pauses mid-way—barely a couple of seconds, to pull off his glasses and strew them across the desk—then goes back to devouring your lips.
San would smile in between kisses when he hears your whimpers. He thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you tremble slightly at his touch. It all goes straight to his cock.
He thinks you’ll be even more adorable when he ruins you.
When San pulls back, he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, watching your glazed-out expression with amusement.
"I'd love to continue messing you up, but I have a meeting to attend. I’ll deal with you later, sweetheart. See you next week.”
His touch lingers on your chin for a couple of seconds longer before he pulls away and shifts to walk back to his desk, leaving your heartbeat wild and erratic, and your thighs squeezed tighter.
Since then, that was all you ever thought about—the slight smile before his lips collided with yours, the way his words rang in your ears. You could barely meet his eyes.
In more instances than one and with any chance given to him, he’d close up any physical distance he had with you. Worried that your emotions would bubble and overflow when he does that, you developed a habit of avoiding his eye contact.
Even after classes, you swore he was casting you glances even with lines of students waiting to talk to him.
“Did you piss Prof off or something?” Jongho asks as he shuts his laptop.
“Why are you asking?”
He shrugs. “It’s just that he’s been eyeing you down like a hawk recently. Did something happen between the both of you?”
You freeze when the flashbacks of the taste of his lips return to your memory when you remember how hungry he looked just wanting to devour you.
“Y/n?”
You blink, then force yourself to meet Jongho’s eyes.
“No. Nothing happened. At least I hope I didn’t make any mistakes.”
“You’re fine. There’s a reason why the department chair chose his teaching assistants.”
You laugh softly at his words.
But when you hear San’s voice from behind you, you almost jump.
“Y/n, Jongho, the both of you can wrap up here and head back to the office”, he instructs. You feel his warmth radiating from behind, and it only makes your heart jump at the proximity.
You watch Jongho slowly pack up, small conversations sparking between the both of you about his soccer practice.
You glance at the door. San isn’t back yet.
“I think it’ll take him awhile to be back. The students there seem to really like him.”
No doubt, the female students for this class seemed a lot more assertive, almost always demanding all of San’s time. Well, not that it should matter. It’s not as if he should mean anything-
“Y/n? Are you okay? You seem pretty off recently. Even Prof’s pretty worried”, Jongho’s voice grounding you back to the cold office.
You force a smile and shake your head.
“I’m fine. I guess it’s just so much workload to deal with.”
Jongho places his hand on your shoulder in comfort, “You’re doing fine. You know you can approach either of us if you’re struggling right?”
You feel comforted, even though your messy thoughts weren’t even about the workload, so you return an assured smile before waving Jongho off for his soccer practice.
You’re wondering what you’re feeling nervous about, because when the door of San’s room opens, you jolt slightly.
“You’re still here?” You hear San ask.
“Yeah. Need to reply to some emails and double-check some of their assignments.” Not a total lie. It’s the swirling feelings he’s been giving you whenever that day surfaces in your mind, the small bouts of attention he pays you and the touches he lets linger a little too long that’s all a dopamine rush in you. You can’t help but want more. But in the same breath, meeting his gaze will allude doom for you.
San nods as he sits back at his desk, going right back to his computer. The silence continues for awhile and you’re surprised that you’re even able to concentrate.
“Y/n”, you hear San call you.
Your gaze doesn’t break from your screen. “Hmm?”
“Come here. Help me look at this.”
You walk over, ignoring the way your heart is just pounding so damn loudly. It’s painfully obvious that San is staring right at your face, and it’s also painfully obvious that you’re avoiding looking at him.
And it definitely seems to be ticking him off.
Your eyes stay locked to his screen reading off whatever is on the screen, and nothing is processing in your brain.
“It looks good”, you curtly reply, trying to ignore the fact that you’re being stared down by a certain professor. You turn away, your eyes still not acknowledging San, only for your professor to stop you in your tracks.
“Now where do you think you’re going?”
He’s making you face him now.
You’re still not giving him eye contact.
“Back to my desk?” You say, looking off into the distance. But San seems to have other plans.
“You know ‘looks good’ isn’t the feedback I’m looking for, right?”
Shit. You know that clear as day.
Now San has both his arms trapping you on his desk.
You somehow still manage to avoid his sharp gaze even when you’re backing up against him, easily letting him corner you.
His belongings are strewn all over the desk when he pins you down. By some miracle, only papers flutter down his desk.
And you’re finally looking right at him.
“You’re finally looking at me, y/n”, he states the obvious. “Now tell me, did I do something wrong?”
“No, you didn’t, sir”, you reply curtly.
He leans in closer.
“Then why are you avoiding my eye contact?”
You shut your eyes and squeeze them. There’s no pure way out of this—your dirty thoughts are seeping into the smallest crevices of your brain, and the more San is prodding you, the more it makes you throb.
“It’s because that evening when we…” you feel your cheeks burn with every word leaving your lips.
San is waiting for you to continue.
“When we kissed…couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
“And?”
“It made me want…more.”
There’s a moment of silence.
“Has anyone told you how adorable you are when you’re honest?” He chuckles. “I’m gonna finish what we started sweetheart, like I promised.”
It makes your heart flutter.
“Am I getting your consent for this?”, San’s voice rings in your ears. You’re finding it hard to focus, especially when his thumb is pushing past the corner of your lips, and you’re just growing wet as fuck.
This is not right. This is so dangerous.
“Yes sir”, you reply back, trying to ignore the way your cunt is just tingling from the feeling of San’s thick erection pressing against you.
“That’s my good girl”, he praises before he dives in for a hungry kiss, his fingers roaming around your body, squeezing your tits before he unbuttons your shirt at an agonising pace. He smiles on your lips when he hears your soft gasp, and he presses his lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, sucking and biting the soft skin against your neck, his erection growing tighter against his trousers when he hears you moan and squirm.
When he’s satisfied with the light marks he decorated down your neck, his lips are pressed against your ear, and his hands are moving dangerously close to your cunt, and inevitably, your bottoms are off in seconds, leaving you in your pretty panties.
“I would prefer fucking you on my bed instead for the first time, but taking you on my desk? Maybe not too bad.”
Your cunt squeezes at the sound of San cussing. You never thought he’d sound this fucking hot.
He groans when his fingers press against the soaked patch of fabric hiding your pussy. All that wetness for him. He bunches up the fabric and rubs it against your clit, the friction drawing frustrated whimpers from you, much to his satisfaction. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and it’s driving you crazy.
San’s fingers finally hook against the waistband of your panties, sliding them off your legs, and pocketing them, much to your shock.
And he doesn’t give you much time to focus on that because when he pulls his cock out from his unzipped pants, it makes your head spin from how thick Choi San is.
“Sir, I’m not sure-“
“It’ll fit, sweetheart, like it’s made for me”, is all the warning San gives before he lines up to your hole and pushes his cock in.
You can’t tell what’s fucking you up more—the way his cock is stretching you open or the San groaning in relief when he finally gets to stuff you full.
You bat away your tears, his cock so fucking full inside of you, pressing against your walls, being squeezed so perfectly by you.
God, Choi San thinks he’s in heaven.
His fingers brush across your cheeks, collecting your teardrops. His eyes lack any ounce of empathy.
“Aw, are you crying because it feels good? You look so fucking pretty crying when I’m stretching you open.”
You barely find the words to reply to him, all stuck in your throat, your mind only flooded by the way San’s cock is buried in your cunt, your thighs trembling from the pleasure. It’s almost sickening. You know you shouldn’t be doing this—not with your professor, not on his fucking desk, but when he has you wrapped you around his finger and cock fucking the daylights out of you, it’s a temptation you can never resist.
A soft hiccup escapes past your lips when San pulls out almost all the way, his cock covered in a sheen of slick and precum before he pushes himself in once more, groaning when you clench around him for the nth time.
“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart. God, I could just fuck you all day. You’d like that right?”
You’re barely keeping track, eyes rolled to the back of your head while your thighs twitch from the pleasure, but you manage to hold the eye contact, and through blurry tears, you mutter a weak, “Yes sir”.
“Of course you do”, San hums before he pulls out once more and starts fucking you dumb on his desk.
No matter how much you try to cover your mouth, bite your tongue or your lip, your moans only come out louder in defiance, the dopamine shooting up your pussy over and over again whenever San’s cock hits your pretty spots.
Your mind is addicted to the way San’s shirt is buttoned down his chest, his cleavage almost fully out for you to gawk at, the way strands of his hair cling to his forehead because of the sweat, the way his eyes roll back when he feels you squeeze him with every loud fuck, and the way he looks down to you from time to time before he eats up your pathetic moans with hungry kisses.
He fucked you up so good, you didn’t even realise it until now.
“S-San”, you manage out a whimper, “please…”
“Please what, sweetheart?”
You don’t even know what you’re begging for.
“Please… you feel so fucking good. I’m gonna cum. It’s so fucking good”, you babble, trying to force your eyes open.
San can’t help but smirk when his ego is being stroked so nicely like that, especially by you. He’s a good person, of course, he’ll give what his good girl wants.
His thumb slides south on your body until you feel the ticklish sensation of him on your clit. Cream and precum pooling at the base of his cock makes it even worse for you—with every graze, his finger pressed onto your clit, the knot tightened in your stomach.
Your nonsensical strings of words only push San to tease you more as he endearingly watches you break slowly when your orgasm builds up.
Your body twitches, your back arches, your eyes roll back, white splashes beneath your eyelids. Your orgasm burning through you while you cry out San’s name and you twitch pathetically on his cock, letting your cream leak all over his wet cock.
“Fuck. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?”, you hear San curse. He fucks you through your orgasm, the overstimulation building up. The sensitivity feels so fucking good.
His hand catches your jaw, and he forces you to meet his eyes.
“Wanna pump you full of my cum, keep you so fuckin’ full for days on end,” he huffs, “but not now, sweetheart.”
Not that you minded, but there’s a strange tinge of disappointment ringing at the back of your head.
San thrusts into you a couple more times before he pulls out, his thick and wet cock resting on your pelvis, twitching as his hand takes over.
Nothing can beat Choi San’s fucking face when he cums. He looks like he’s in fucking heaven, and he’s tearing up the sky because of you. His fingers leave light marks on your thighs, you hear him groan at such a low tone that your cunt flutters uselessly against the air. Translucent spurts land on your skin, but it barely registers in you—you’re too busy swooning over the way your Professor just cummed over your body.
San’s high dies down, and he catches his breath, casting you a glance, red dusting his cheeks, before he reaches out for the tissue box to clean you up.
A quick kiss on the lips before he goes on to collect all the papers all over the floor.
That night he drives you home, filling the space with light conversations as if he didn’t just railed you on his desk.
It’s only when you reach home that you realise one important thing—San still has your panties.
You know you shouldn’t be telling secrets to your colleague, especially when it’s about your fucking boss. But here you are, facing Jongho, who has his arms crossed in front of you.
“What’s up with you and Prof?” You predict the words that leave his lips.
You hesitate to tell him, unsure how you should even say it, where to even start.
The worst part you knew clear as day was that nothing changed since that day. You chalked it off as San being swamped with assignments to deal with, that’s why the topic was never brought up again, but something still irked you. The only comfort you had was that the semester was ending, and so was your term as San’s teaching assistant.
Maybe it was how it was meant to be. Just nothing more than that.
But when you realise the dreaded feeling prickling at the back of your eyes, you knew you were fucked.
“I don’t know how to even start jjong”, you sigh. Jongho scrunches his eyebrows.
You watch his expression switch from one to the other. You expected him to freak out at you, yell at you for unprofessionalism or something, but he doesn’t.
“It’s so fucked up. But I just can’t help but wonder if he feels anything”, you mutter. The thought of you not being the only one he’s doing this with makes your stomach churn. But somehow, in the most twisted ways, confiding Jongho made you feel slightly better.
“Well, looks like we’ll have to play that card I guess”, Jongho shrugs. “But you should mentally prepare yourself for the results, that’s all I gotta warn you. I just need your consent to play along.”
It’s a risky bet you’re playing, but drastic times called for drastic measures, right?
As the semester closes to its end, so does the workload. San feels a lot lighter on his shoulders, and while he’s grateful for his teaching assistants for lifting a significant amount of workload off him, the end of a semester meant the end of the working relationship between him and his teaching assistants. He usually doesn’t feel that much, considering he has had many teaching assistants in the past, but for some reason, he feels a sense of discomfort lodged in his stomach when he thinks about having to let them go.
Especially one of them.
He sighs, removing his glasses from his nose and shutting his eyes while reviewing the exams. San feels like a fucking idiot when his eyes land on your empty desk, his frustration bubbling when you cross his mind again.
Even though he pretends to keep himself busy by flooding his mind with work, somehow, you would bubble to the surface once more, pushing him into the pits of frustration when he’s reminded of the way you get a kick arguing and refuting him just to get a reaction out of him, the way you taste like sweetest thing on earth he’s ever tried and the way you completely unravel when San fucks every single thought out of you—
He bites his cheek.
No. He has to keep it professional. At least, until the term is over.
He just doesn’t know how to tell you.
He knows he’s entered deep waters when he crossed the line that evening, the sight of you undone right before him snapping all his rationale. More than anything, he’s suffering the withdrawals, maybe that’s the punishment he has to bear.
He glances at the colourful ticket at the corner of his desk. It’s Jongho’s big game. Even though he usually doesn’t let himself intertwine with his subordinate’s personal interests, it’s hard not to.
In addition, you’ll be there. Maybe he’d snag you after the game and talk to you properly.
The meeting ran overtime, San glances down at his silver watch, realising he’d missed almost thirty minutes of Jongho’s game. Despite the exhaustion, he pushes it aside and heads to the stadium.
He watches the brightly lit scoreboard as he takes a seat on the bench, Jongho’s team is in the lead by one point.
Somehow he gets wrapped up in the game, cheering when Jongho’s team takes championship as the benches all burst into loud cheers too.
He gets up to leave, already thinking of drafting a text to congratulate Jongho in his head, maybe get him a small congratulatory gift on the side.
Then he spots you, just rows below. Now, he’s walking down as if on instinct, to get to where you are.
San pushes past the crowd to approach you. He’ll offer to drive you back—he knows it’s all an excuse but anything to get you into his space once more.
His arm outstretched, reaching out to tap your shoulder, then suddenly stopping when he sees Jongho appear right in front of you. That’s fine. San could just congratulate him at the same time—
Which all of those thoughts immediately disintegrate when he watches Jongho cup your cheeks with his hand, his eyes widening in complete silent horror as Jongho leans into you for a kiss.
You seriously doubt that Jongho’s plan would work. Didn’t San decide not to come anyway? You heard it with your own ears too.
Nonetheless, you pushed it to the back of your mind, focusing on cheering for your friend, watching the leading scorer jump from one team to the next. You couldn’t help but erupt into cheers when Jongho’s team won, screams echoing through the open stadium.
You watch Jongho walk up to the benches where you are, and his arms wrap around you, his smile big and bright, competing with the stadium lights.
“Congratulations, baby bear”, you tease, pushing against his shoulders lightly. Jongho inches close to you.
“He’s behind you by the way”, Jongho mutters, loud enough for you to hear, but not long enough for you to process, because his hands are cupping your jaw, his thumb pressed against your lips.
He hears you muffle some kind of question but your lips stay sealed.
“You owe me one for this,” is the last thing you hear before he leans in. Your eyes widen in shock, and you freeze in your spot, even though his lips don’t meet yours, evidently separated by Jongho’s thumb, his action had caught you off guard.
You barely have the capacity to process what had just happened, and you feel someone’s warmth tightening against your wrist.
Jongho lets go of you immediately, but you’re staring right at your professor, who is staring right at Jongho with an unreadable expression, with his fingers curled tightly against your wrist. It feels like an eternity since you saw him. He’s not wearing glasses today and his hair is down instead of his usual slicked-back look, donned with a simple dress shirt and tie which framed his wide shoulders so perfectly.
“Congratulations on your win, Choi Jongho. I believe you should be with your team to celebrate right?”
Jongho only smirks back. “Right. See you babe. Thank you, Prof. See you next week.”
Jongho casts you a glance, the mischief twinkling in his eyes before he turns his heel down the stairs and back to the field.
What the fuck just happened?
And you find yourself staring up at the male before you, his gaze piercing into yours.
“Prof—San?” You blink. “I thought you weren’t-“
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart. Why would I not want to see the cute relationship my teaching assistants have right?” His voice is laced with venom.
San doesn’t really elaborate further, leading you to his car, sealing your fate once more when the passenger doors close shut.
He’s all over you. His body is burning up, maybe just as fast as yours is, and it’s making you feel dizzy. His moves are aggressive, impatient and you swear you feel something else too—desperation.
“S-San—“ you gasp, in an attempt to take control of something.
“It’s sir to you, sweetheart”, his voice low and gentle, but commanding. Goosebumps scatter across your skin, making you shiver in response when his palms slide up your waist.
You never saw it coming—from the second his hand grabbed yours, pulling you away from Jongho, his eyes locked into yours for a moment before he turns to Jongho, then to the car ride back, where you noticed the way his knuckles turned pale from gripping the steering wheel. On the walk to his car, you asked him where you were going, and all he did was turn to you and reply, “We’ve got things to talk about, don’t we, sweetheart?”
Now you’re becoming undone once more under San’s touches, trapped beneath him like the first time, now at his place, on his fucking couch instead.
“It was just foolish of me to just let it be, wasn’t it?” He asks. “Fucking you dumb on my desk wasn’t a good enough indicator, was it?”
“S-sir…!”
“And you think it’s cute getting all cuddly with Jongho? Letting him kiss you all over, touch you all over?” San mutters, his fingers wrapped around your throat, his grip tightening slightly and you’re sure he’s about to leave light imprints.
But oh, was it so fucking exhilarating—the thought of Choi San riled up like that, a sight you’ve never seen before, and you’re not sure if fear or excitement running through your veins right now, but what you do know, is that if he finds out that your panties are completely soaked through, you’re fucking done for.
His lips collide with yours again, branding himself as some kind of oxygen thief when he’s turning your mind into complete mush.
“I’m not sure if it’s a little game to you sweetheart, but if it is, I think you need a reminder.”
You breathlessly look up at him, and he looks ethereal even when he’s panting and looking pissed as hell.
“What reminder, sir?” You dare ask back.
The side of San’s lips tugs upwards. His hand leaves your throat and trails down your blouse, effortlessly unbuttoning the apparel until he tugs it off you, panting at the sight of your tits hugged by your lace bra. Your bottoms are off again on the floor of his bedroom, alongside any ounce of rationale. Your soaked panties are agonisingly pulled off your legs, and before you know it, his hands spread them open too. It takes all of San’s self-control to not stuff you full. At least, not yet.
“It’s my cock you’re gonna cum all over. Even when you have another guy’s lips on yours, it’s my name you’re gonna fucking scream.”
Oh. Oh god.
The pieces of what Jongho was trying to do suddenly come together, unfortunately, the realisation doesn’t last long because San has his lips greedily on yours again on top of the way his full-blown erection is pressing onto your pussy.
“Sir”, you manage out a weak mutter when he finally pulls away, trying to press and grind against his clothed dick for some friction or anything to rid the burn that’s going through your body. But San remains still.
“Use your words since you love using your mouth so much.” Like kissing Choi Jongho.
Your mind is a complete puddle.
“I really…fuck. I really need you to fuck me right now, sir”, you beg, red flushing your cheeks, but it’s not from the shame. There’s a feral glint in San’s eyes that you don’t miss.
“No”, is all he answers, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach.
“Not until I’ve fucked your mouth full, sweetheart.”
All you can do is watch him speechlessly as he hooks his index finger on the knot of his tie and loosens it, unraveling it back to its original form.
“Hands together”, he commands you, and you do so immediately, basking in the scent of his cologne while he leans into you, his hands tying knots around your wrists with his tie. “Don’t let it loosen, got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Now on your knees.”
You’ve never dropped to your knees so fast.
San forces you to watch him unbutton and lower the fly of his trousers, and you’re just doing your best not to get drool on his expensive carpet.
When his cock springs out, you’re also forced to watch him fuck his palm at a slow pace, drinking in his groans, slick staining your inner thighs, and the fucking floor next if you don’t do anything.
His cock is heavy against your cheek when he taps it there, and your tongue slips out of your mouth by instinct, given experimental kitten licks on his slit, before his fingers catch your chin, and he forces you to look up at him.
“Look at me”, he instructs.
You do. You do your best not to break the eye contact, trying not to be sidetracked by his big fucking cock, but your eyes can’t help but dart to his appendage.
“No, keep your eyes on me”, he redirects once more, his fingers fixing your head in place.
Then he slides his cock into your mouth and pulls out a choked moan from you.
“That’s it. Good girl”, he grunts when you start bobbing your head, fucking his cock with your mouth.
His fingers trail to the back of your head, but he’s using all of his strength not to force your head down.
But as you pick up the momentum, it’s an automatic reaction to push your head down so his cock hits the back of your throat. Your eyes are watering but fuck you feel like you’re in fucking heaven. Your head spins whenever his wet cock is forced down your tight throat, and you break eye contact a few times, which San has to tap your jaw to make you keep eye contact while he fucks your face.
“I’m cumming, sweetheart. Fuck. Keep that pretty little mouth open for me yeah?” He groans, bucking his hips, letting streaks of warm white paint your throat and mouth, watching the way you’re looking up at him with doe eyes, taking his cum in your mouth like a good girl. His good girl.
He smudges his thumb against the corner of your lips before his arms carry you up, only to dump you on the couch.
Your back is on the couch again, hands still tied behind your back and legs up with San pressing his body weight on you.
He props your leg on his shoulder, and he stretches you open inch by inch. You gasp when he fills you up, your walls immediately clenching around him.
“So fuckin tight for me, sweetheart. You take me so well.”
His thrusts are growing more aggressive mixed in with the possession that’s bleeding in and it’s setting your whole body on fire. Your words are caught in your throat when he’s buried into you to the hilt. He groans at the way your pussy is fluttering pathetically against him.
It feels so fucking good that nothing but stars engulf your vision when his cock stuffs you full to the hilt again. His name leaves your lips like a mantra on top of broken moans and whimpers, and it only makes San fill up the space in your pussy all the more better.
His shoulders are so wide that he’s towering over you, his fingers forcing you to face him whenever you’re drifting because of the pleasure, his eyes feral when you look so fucked out for him. And when he combines his heavy thrusts with a squeeze around your throat, it makes your mind shut off and your cunt cream all over his dick.
“Good girl, looking all so fucked out for me.”
His cock is hitting all the perfect spots, and it’s driving you insane with the knot tightening in your stomach at such a fast pace. You think you’re sliding off the couch but San isn’t letting you—especially not when his thrusts are keeping you on the couch. His name continues to leave your lips in broken moans every time he fucks you.
San snakes his fingers to your scalp and he tugs sharply, enough to force you to look up at him. You’re tearing up again, and it feels so fucking good with the way he’s keeping your hair tugged while he fucks the ever-loving shit out of you.
“My name does sound much better when you’re crying it doesn’t it, sweetheart?”
You choke back a moan when he hits your g-spot once more.
“Y-yes sir.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Full. So full sir. Want more. Please. Need you to ruin me”, you beg once more, your mind floating in an endless euphoria.
“Oh, I definitely will”, San hums, watching in sheer pleasure as your eyes roll back when his cockhead presses perfectly against your g-spot over and over.
Before you realise it, your orgasm hits you like fucking train, spreading through your body like a fucking wildfire, engulfing every crevice of your body.
He’s gonna break you, and you’re fucking loving it.
“San-“, you cry out, not registering the way he’s wiping the tears off your eyes. “So good. You feel so good. Cumming so much-“
“I know, sweetheart. It feels so fucking good doesn’t it?” He asks with a smile, satisfied when you nod frantically while he rubs your thighs.
Your thighs are shaking from how good this all feels, cream staining your inner thighs and his cock when he pulls out.
“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart”, San reminds you.
He turns you over, keeping one hand on your tied hands, while the other pressing your head against the back of the couch. He lines his cock back to your cunt, pushing into your hole once more. You choke on your moans again, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes until he’s fully seated in you once more.
The sounds are even wetter now, especially when you’re overstimulated, pussy just being so perfectly abused by Choi San. You fucking love the way his hands are around your neck, forcing you against the cushions when he fucks you dumb from the back.
Your stomach is in knots once more, the feeling building up faster than the previous time, and all you can mutter is that it feels so good. San thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you’re not having banters with him and being this cock drunk for him.
Then he pulls you off the couch, letting you catch a breath before he sits you on his lap, his cock still buried in your cunt, and starts bouncing you off his cock from below.
He alternates between melting your brain with his pornographic moans right at your ear and planting more love bites down your jaw.
“Gonna cum again. You feel so fucking good in me. Oh god”, you hiccup through your tears, the sensitivity pushing your limit.
“Cum as hard as you want, sweetheart. I’ll let you milk me dry, fill you up so fucking good that you’ll be leaking with my cum for the next two days.”
That was enough to set you off. Your pussy convulses when your second orgasm hits, fireworks bursting in your eyelids, long drawn-out cries while San fills your tight cunt with his warm and thick cum, while his groans fill up in your ears. You feel his fingers massaging your thighs, coaxing you from your high.
You’re dizzy, and light-headed as your head slumps against his shoulders, too spent to acknowledge the male behind you leaving more marks down your neck.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” San breaks the momentary silence, well aware that his softening cock is still in you.
Your hand flies up to his chest to stop him, even though you’re still recovering from seeing stars.
“We need to talk-“
“After we clean up”, he cuts you off, lifting you off his cock and carrying you bridal style to his bathroom.
But you’re stubborn.
“N-no. It wasn’t what you thought it was”, you say, feeling your tears well up in your eyes on top of the weight.
The prickles are starting to form at the bottom of San’s heart, but he’s more focused on trying to hose you down with warm water. But he’s listening you run your mouth, not that he minded.
“We didn’t kiss”, you reiterate.
Now he’s just confused. He stares at you.
“We just had sex, y/n”, San reminds you, trying not to let the red reach his cheeks.
“No—I mean Jongho and I. We didn’t kiss”, you clarify.
San doesn’t really know if he should believe your words or his eyes, but now he’s focused on lathering your hair and body.
“That wasn���t what I saw”, he replies, avoiding eye contact.
“That’s cause we did this-“ you huff, turning his head to face you, imitating the way Jongho had slid his thumb between your lips and his, demonstrating San the fake kiss.
San only stares at you wordlessly when you pull back, only more questions than answers.
“But why would he do that for?”
“He was trying to rile you up.”
“For what?”
“To see if you felt anything for me?”
“By kissing you?”
Oh god. It felt like the more you explained, the more San was getting the wrong ideas. You let your head sit in your hands, unsure if it’s from the embarrassment or the fact that you don’t even know where to start.
“It wasn’t a kiss, Choi San”, you groaned, your hands leaving your face, suddenly self-conscious that San is staring intently at you. “After we, um, fucked the first time, you acted like nothing happened, and I felt like shit about it, and I told Jongho and then…” you trail off, feeling your cheeks heat up again. It’s probably the hot water, at least that’s what you try to convince yourself with.
“I don’t kiss people I’m not in love with, San”, you sigh in defeat. Your eyes are downcast, but you feel his fingers cup your cheeks, and his lips press onto yours. You swear you could go another round again.
The silence hangs in the air for a while, only the sounds of the shower filling the emptiness when he pulls back.
“I didn’t do anything since after that evening because I wanted to properly tell you after the term ended.”
“Tell me what?”
“That I’m in love with you, too.”
You blink. Somehow that shocked you more than the both times he fucked your brains out.
You don’t answer him because your head is just swarming with so many thoughts, and San lets you do so, satisfied that he’s finally have you quieten down so he can finish washing you up.
Even when he’s dressed you in his oversized hoodie, San peppers you with kisses, basking in the way you sometimes cover his face with your hands to stop him, which only rouses him to continue to attack you with his lips.
San’s arms are tight around you when the both of you are finally on his bed. You smell like his favourite body soap and he can’t seem to get enough of it—nuzzling against the crook of your neck, muttering sweet nothings. You think this is probably your favourite version of Professor Choi.
Your fingers twirl around his splayed-out locks, and you speak.
“Prof Choi”, you tease, and San looks up, and it’s the first time you actually see him pout—it almost makes you combust.
“I told you to stop calling me that”, he frowns, burying his face, feigning trying to cut off physical contact from you, which only makes you laugh in response.
“I just wanted to disturb you”, you respond, trying to yank him back into your arms. “I do have a question though.”
His head pops up from his pillows and he stares at you, waiting for you to speak.
“When did you realise you had feelings for me?”
He pauses, giving himself a couple of minutes to think.
“The moment I received your teaching assistant application.”
📚 Bonus Epilogue 📚
“Prof Choi!” One of his teaching assistants calls out to him.
He turns his head and attention to her, pushing up his glasses.
“Yes?”
“I need help with this part of the assignment. Could you help me check that I’ve marked it correctly?”
San nods, taking the papers from her.
As he scans through her work, the teaching assistant’s eyes glance down at the band hugging his ring finger.
“Prof, you’re married?”
San pauses his writing to glance at the glistening gold on his finger, and a small smile spreads across his cheeks.
“You know, I used to wear a ring on my ring finger so students would stop asking me if I was married or not.”
She raises her eyebrows, her curiosity piqued. “So you’re not?”
“I am.”
Her eyes brighten, invested in her handsome professor’s love story.
“Tell me more then”, she asks.
San scoffs playfully, turning his gaze to her.
“All I can tell you is that she’s always been my favourite.”
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the best of the best — jeong yunho
in which yunho didn’t expect his tiring shift to end with fucking the prettiest girl who’s ever walked into the clinic.
ripperdoc!jeong yunho x fem!reader. genre. smut. cyberpunk 2077 au. warnings. non-sexual use of daddy, explicit sexual content mdni, big dick!yunho but what else is new, fingering, BACKSHOTS, yunho is a tease, implied voice kink, creampie, he gets a little rough, nicknames (pretty, baby, princess). wc. 2.5k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this is really REALLY rushed because i was hit with inspiration and started writing without actually stopping so like sorry if it’s ass lol. her cyberware is based on this.
DEFINITIONS. ripperdoc; medical practitioners that can install cybernetic prostheses, called cyberware // eddies; game currency. feel free to ask for any clarifications.
listening to. cyberpunk, ateez (duh).
masterlist.
yunho sighed as he threw a bloodied towel into the sink, hands finally clean after having installed some new cyberware on a customer. his day was spent operating edgerunners, never quite seeming to catch a break. but what else could he do as the best ripperdoc in the district, let alone this shithole of a clinic? besides, he somewhat liked his job and the pay was good, his way with words getting customers to give him a few more eddies than they were obliged to.
but, alas, it was finally closing time and he’d no longer have to deal with people until the next day. or at least that’s what he hoped.
the familiar sound of the clinic’s door rang through the lobby, singaling someone had entered before he could lock up and making him sigh in exasperation. he pinched the bride of his nose, calling out over his shoulder from the backroom, knowing whoever it was would still be able to hear him. “we’re closed, come back tomorrow!”
“please, it’s an emergency!” the person replied and he froze.
a desperate, feminine plea. yunho can’t say he’s used to hearing that tone in the clinic. with furrowed brows, he emerged from the backroom to the lobby, right behind the counter as he laid his eyes on you. he was obviously much taller than you, looking up at him with round doe eyes and softly flushed cheeks. you wore a short black skirt and a loose sweater; not a sight he was used to here either, not that he was complaining as his eyes momentarily flickered to the sliver of cleavage exposed by the low neckline. maybe he could make an exception… no. he wanted nothing more than to go home, and a pretty little thing like you couldn’t just magically change his mood.
“my ‘ware has been acting up and i heard this is the best clinic in the area,” you walked closer to the counter, one of the steps looking particularly painful as you winced mid-sentence and stumbled before continuing, “please, sir, i promise i’ll pay you well.”
he looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, letting a beat of silence wash over you before he finally answered with a sigh, “fine. go through that curtain and wait on the table. the metal one.”
you followed his hand to see him pointing at a curtain much like the ones separating beds in hospitals. with a quiet nod, you shuffled over as he ducked through the door he previously came out of. there was a small space behind the curtain and it reeked of hand sanitiser as you sat down, the table cold against your thighs. you smoothed your skirt down as he walked through the curtain and set down a tray of tools on a desk pushed against the wall.
“so, where’s the problem?” he asked, crossing his arms and giving you a once-over that had you feeling a little nervous.
“my back,” you muttered, looking down at your hands shyly as they played with the hem of your sweater, “i’ll have to take this off, if that’s okay.”
“oh, um…” he blinked before nodding and clearing his throat, moving to stand behind you. “yeah, it’s fine, go ahead.”
after a moment of hesitation, your body stretched lightly as you pulled the shirt over your head, his jaw nearly dropping at the sight. an intricately designed thin silver chrome spine merged with your skin and extending from between your shoulderblades down to just above your ass. instinctively, he reached out and brushed his fingers down the length of it, biting his bottom lip as he caught the way your back arched slightly.
“god, you’re a masterpiece.” he couldn’t help but sigh out as he let his fingertips explore the metal and the skin surrounding it. the clasp of your bra covered up just a little bit of it, but there was plenty more to see. after a moment, he caught a glimpse of a little spark in the metal on the small of your back, humming. “i see the problem… must be some sloppy wiring. i’ll take care of you, baby, just relax and stay still. you can do that for me, can’t you?”
“y-yeah.” you practically squeaked out, mentally slapping yourself for making it obvious how his words and touches made you feel.
he grinned but didn’t say anything, reaching for his tools and beginning to work. as he did, he deliberately brushed his fingertips or his wrist against your skin, against anywhere he could reach while fixing the wiring between the blades of the metal spine, just because he enjoyed messing wiht you. your waist seemed to get the most reactions out of you, unable to hold back your hitched breaths and your thighs pressing together. you were so sensitive and sweet, trying to hold back all your sounds as he riled you up with teasingly calculated touches.
“how’d you pay for this, anyway? a mod like this must’ve cost a fortune.”
“my daddy paid for it,” you explained with a shrug, “i’ve been wanting something like this for forever, so he let me get it done on my 18th birthday.”
he raised his eyebrows in surprise, nodding with a soft smile. “well, baby, you must be daddy’s pride and joy if he’s willing to drop so much on an implant like this that does nothing but make you look that much more appealing.”
“appealing?” you echoed his description of you, glancing back at him over your shoulder, “you think so?”
“of course, i’m not blind,” he roles his eyes playfully, licking eyes with you before going back to work, “in fact, i’m jealous i wasn’t the one to install all this ‘ware.”
it didn’t help that as he talked, his breath fanned over the back of your neck since he adjusted the table to raise you higher for him to work more comfortably. you learned each other’s names as he talked you through the procedure, trying to distract you from the occasional prods of a needle and sparks of the wires. he also liked to watch goosebumps form on your skin and the way your back arched just a little more as he responded to your words with low hums or muttered acknowledgments.
his hands feel a little colder than your skin as he barely runs them down your back, eyes trained on the gleaming metal. the tips of his fingers momentarily dipped below the back of your bra before slipping out again.
“does anything hurt?” he asked quietly, in a tone he noticed always made you stutter a little.
“n-no.” you shook your head before holding your breath, feeling his hands covers your waist and move down slowly, holding your hips lightly.
“good.” he hummed, nodding and removing his hands before stepping away from you completely.
the loss of his hands made your brows furrow as you looked at him, stepping into your line of vision with his back turned to you as he put away his tools.
“did you need something, princess?” he tilted his head at the sight of the pout you were trying so hard to hide, voice taking on a mocking tone.
your cheeks warmed and your brain short-circuited as he took a step toward the metal table he sat you on, standing a breath away from your knees and leaning down to your eye level. his hands braced on the table of either sides of your hips. if he wanted to, he could lean forward just a few inches and his lips would finally press against yours.
“you.” you blurted out without thinking, unable to process any thoughts in the flustered state he put you in.
“me, huh?” yunho chuckled, silky and low, fingertips brushing against the hem of your skirt as he pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at you. “a ripperdoc like me who works in heywood fixing cyberware? you need me, baby?”
flustered and a little speechless, you could only nod, lips parted as you left out soft breaths and looked up at him with eyes that begged him to kiss you. his hands left your skirt but found you again quickly, one on your waist and the other cupping the side of your face, half of his hand buried in your hair as he leaned down and finally pressed his lips against yours.
a whimper made it past you as his tongue swiped along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth, mingling with yours and exploring. you felt him smile against your lips as you let out that sound, his fingers in your hair holding you a little tighter as his hand on your waist slid down your thigh. you, however, didn’t feel that hand moving until his fingers pressed against your soaked panties, somehow easily finding your clit through the fabric and eliciting a whine as he pulled his lips away from you.
“so wet and i’ve barely done anything.” he whispered, kissing you again as he nudged the fabric aside to run two digits through your folds, quiet squelching sounds mixing with your little moans and whimpers as he circled your clit excruciatingly slowly.
not expecting his hands to feel so good, you couldn’t stop your hips from squirming, unable to kiss back very skilfully. he circled your clit with just the right speed and pressure, keeping you restless as your pussy clenched around nothing and click slowly dripped out to smear against the table and inner thighs.
yunho gave your swollen nub a sudden pinch and you winced, your hands on his biceps clenching as he pulled away from you with a click of his tongue. “didn’t i tell you to stay still, princess?”
you parted your lips to respond but could only moan languidly as his fingers easily pushed themselves into you, crooking and perfectly prodding against your sweet spot.
“do my fingers feel too good? is it too much for you, pretty?” he mocked with a fake pout, drawing his fingers out before pushing back in. you felt his hand drop from your hair to reach for something and with a push of a button, the table lowered itself smoothly.
moments later you were on your knees, facing away from him, hips pulled up and chest pushed down. some time while he moved you to this position, he managed to remove your skirt and bra. your nipples brushed against the cold surface of the table, shuddering at the feeling combined with one of his hands kneading your ass intently while the other ran down the length of your spine. as he got to the small of your back, he pushed down a little harder, making your back arch.
“hm, so pretty and perfect,” he hummed as his clothes and very much erected cock pressed against your flushed core. you let out a broken whine, burying your face into your forearm comfortably, his fingers sliding through your folds again and spreading them apart. he groaned at the sight, your wetness glistening in the neon lighting of the clinic, spread between your thighs messily, needy hole fluttering.
when he finally pressed his tip into you and eased his way in, your breath hitched followed by a moan of his name, hands clenching as you pushed back against him. he steadied your hips with his hands, eyes rolling back from your tightness as he bottomed out and stilled to revel in the feeling if you wrapped around him for a moment.
butterflies roared in your stomach as he leaned down and kissed the top of your spine sloppily, pulling out before rolling his hips against yours. you weren’t used to this angle, especially not with someone as huge as him, but your embarrassing amount of arousal made it easy for him to move. you cursed softly, a string of whines and moans falling from your swollen lips as his fingers dug into your hips and his teeth explored your upper back, licking and sucking and biting marks into your skin.
“f-fuck, you feel s-so good.” he moaned, forehead dropped between your shoulder blades for a moment before he straightened up again, pulling your hips against his harshly as he thrusted into you, teeth sunk in his bottom lip.
not long after that you felt a knot quickly tightening in your abdomen, feeling your breath knocked out of your lungs with each snap of his hips. one of his arms wrapped around your waist before venturing lowers so he could rub at your clit quickly, the knot drawing tighter and tighter until you couldn’t take it anymore.
“y-yunho- i’m g-gonna-“
“let go, baby. go on, be a good girl and cum for me,” he cut you off, voice gentle despite his rough movements, snapping the waistband of your panties against you, “you’ll cum for me, won’t you? i’m making you– fuck, i’m making you feel so good, right? p-please cum, baby, just let go.”
his words egged you on and soon enough you did as he said, shuddering and clenching and squealing as you came all over his cock, your juices drooling down his length as he continued pounding into you. his hand left your clit to grab your hips tightly, chasing his own high now that you finished. knowing what he needed, you clenched around him rhythmically, whimpering softly because you knew he liked the sound.
without warning, he spilled himself inside you, filling you up with his hot release. your combined panting and shivers filled the area as he emptied himself. once he collected himself, he pulled out slowly, shuddering as he did so before tucking your panties back into place before his cum could seep out of you. he flipped you around easily and found your lips.
you kissed each other lazily for a while, mind foggy after your orgasms. you gasped against his lips softly as you felt his fingers press right on the fabric covering your hole.
“if you can keep everything in while i close up, i’ll take you to my place for another round… or maybe a few more,” he kissed your cheek, reaching to the side and giving you your clothes before tucking himself back into his pants, “if you’re up for it, of course.”
you giggled, also kissing his cheek in return. “i’d like that, actually. you have a really good dick.”
“is that so? good thing a pretty girl like you only deserves the best.”
networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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❝0025❞ — j.wy.
PAIRING. jung wooyoung x fem!reader.
GENDER AND WARNINGS. smut. friends to lovers. kinda idiots in love. switch woo. switch reader. teasing. strip poker. mentions of alcohol. pet names (pretty boy, bunny, love, good girl, etc). praising. p in v. unprotected sex (please, do NOT!). oral (mostly fem receiving). creampie. kinda breast play. mostly filth, i'm sorry. lmk if i forgot anything!.
SYNOPSIS. you and wooyoung have always had a thing for each other, but never acted on it, until one day he gets tired of waiting once he notices you want him just as bad as he wants you.
RATING. R (+18) - MDNI.
WORD COUNT. 3,3k.
NOTES. english is not my first language. part of the ateezchella especial. bye ♡.
IMPORTANT. this is a work of fiction, it has zero intent on portraying how any of the people quoted here are in real life.
CREDS. dividers by cafekitsune ♡
The idea that something could be so infuriating and exhilarating at the same time was confusing to say the least, but that was how you felt whenever Jung Wooyoung would look at you, the eyes that held a teasing and menacing gaze at the same time they burned to your skin as if you were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. In all truth, you were, and he was expecting to make that known to you that night as he had managed to convince you to play a game of strip poker, the drinks you had earlier not helping one bit at keeping your judgment clear.
It’s not that you were bad at card games, no, you were amazing at them, except when you had something – or several – to drink, which was now the case. Although Wooyoung wasn’t too far behind you in being intoxicated by the alcohol, he seemed to have kept his cool, almost sober as the cards were dropped and clothes started to fill in the floor you two were in, thanking heavens that you were alone with him at the comfort of your house, at the same time trying to ignore how the pool that was forming in between your legs kept getting more annoying as the time passed and your clothes were on the floor while he still had his pants and one sock on.
“Oh, look at that…,” the grin that took over his lips made you want nothing more than to rip it out as you groaned loudly looking at the cards he was showing, winning again. “C’mon pretty, take some piece off.”
“I fucking hate you,” his laugh reverberated through the room as he watched you take one of your socks, trying your best to push away the cold that involved you as you were only in your lingerie. Sensing the disappointing look Wooyoung sent your way, you hid your smile trying to calm your heart. “Be ready to take off some pieces next time, you are gonna lose!”
The smirk was quickly back into his lips as he picked the cards shuffling them around his hands, as you forced your eyes to not stare at them, not to imagine how good they always looked on your thigh or how flustered you always were whenever Wooyoung was bold enough to touch you a bit longer and in a daring way. The truth was, you’ve always had a thing for Wooyoung, if you were honest, how could you not? He was the perfect mix of a gentleman and a menace, but never going as far as making you uncomfortable, whenever a slight hint that you were annoyed by his antics, he would stop and apologize to you. The fact he was a touchy person didn’t help keep your feelings at bay as you grew closer.
As the cards were thrown, you tried your best to keep your poker face and legs crossed – the latter so he wouldn’t be able to see the wet patch on your underwear. Wooyoung was already cocky enough about all the attention he got, although he got shy, you knew he enjoyed teasing the living shit out of you whenever someone would compliment him or indicate they wanted him, but curiously enough, he never gave them another second of his attention, just politely declined and kept on with whatever it was that your group was doing, also leaning closer to you, even if it was to tease how many gorgeous women and men wanted him.
Although you wanted to deny, you loved how he would decline all the offers that came his way. You weren’t much of a jealous type, but you were definitely a possessive one, as much as you wanted to tell your brain you shouldn’t be like that towards Wooyoung. Whenever he would tease about that, you’d play it out by saying that’s how you were with all your friends, receiving a laugh from Wooyoung as you felt his hands linger on your body, sometimes he would talk back against your ear, others he would pull you closer with some excuse, and on rare occasions he would just stay like that, fingers burning on your skin as the tip of his fingers would lightly caress your exposed skin.
“YES! Told you I’d win!” You cheer with excitement as you draw your cards laughing loudly at his pout as his eyes bore into your figure and you notice a small smirk appear on his lips before he gets up, eyeing you with that menacing glare. “No, I don’t care what you say, I’ll win the next ones too and -”
As his fingers went to the buttons of his pants, your voice stopped at once, eyes ignoring the apparent tent that was there. Once his fingers found the zipper, your eyes averted to the ground, specifically to his feet that still had one sock, which brought an inquisitive look to your face, turning into shock as his pants fell at his feet before he took them out completely kicking them somewhere along with his shirt, the sock joining it not long after, bringing your eyes to finally look up, straight into his face, as the tongue was in between his lips along with the growing grin that made you clench your thighs together.
The movement did not go unnoticed as you saw Wooyoung’s eyebrows rise and fall before he took a few steps closer to you, noticing finally how you had your legs up to your chest cursing at yourself as you realized he probably saw the wet patch in your underwear. As he lowered himself in front of you, the maximum you would allow your eyes to wander off was up to his chest, the tattoo on his ribs finally visible for you to see, for you to touch, to –
“My eyes are up here bunny,” luckily, you only clenched your own cunt and not your legs as the pet name reached your ears, as your eyes found his predatory ones, the smirk with a slight gap between his lips, allowing you to see his tongue moving inside his mouth… God, you needed it in – “still need to go a bit further up,” his finger found your chin bringing your eyes to finally meet his and stay there. “That’s it, I like when you look at me, especially when it’s like that.”
“Fuck off,” you push his hand away and turn your legs around in front of you, still covering the growing wetness between your legs, making Wooyoung chuckle before he returns to his position, “why didn’t you take your socks off, you are supposed to only take one piece of clothing.”
“Are you complaining, love?”
You rolled your eyes as you pointed to the cards in between you two, ignoring his grin as his fingers nimbly organized the cards, ignoring how his eyes were fixed on you.
“You're scared you will lose?”
The scoff that came from Wooyoung made you finally eye him as he finished organizing the cards. “I was planning on suggesting something for the grand finale.”
“You definitely scared to lose though, you were the idiot who took two pieces of clothing, while -”
“You would do the same if you had noticed how hard my cock is as it only got harder as I saw how wet your cunt is,” that shut you up at the same instant, the deck of cards being left on the coffee table as his eyes never left you, the smirk growing as his tongue wet his lips, sitting cross legged in front of you as his hands found his thigh, chuckling as he noticed you finally noticing his hard cock against his underwear. “Are you still gonna pretend you don’t find me attractive and that you don’t want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck you?”
“Wooyoung, look -”
“What do I have to do for you to understand I don’t see you as a friend and that I want you to be mine?” As your eyes averted from his, you could hear the movement and see it from the peripheral view, only to get his hands on your chin, making you eye him as he towered above you, trying to ignore how his hard clothed cock was inches away from you. “I never wanted to be just your friend and I sure as fuck ain’t blind not to notice how you react to me, so are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you senseless before becoming officially mine, or you still gonna be fucking brat?”
Instead of responding you palmed his clothed cock watching as his mouth opened with a gasp as you squeezed gently the length, his hands moving from your chin to caress your cheek as you smirked at each other.
“Tell me again how badly you want me, Wooyoungie.”
As you said that, both your hands moved to the waistband of his underwear, pulling slowly as you sustained eye contact with him, until you noticed that the tip of his red angry leaking cock was finally seen. Making you eye him before moving your face closer to his hip bone, leaving a tender kiss there as you slowly moved towards his cockhead, watching as it twitched slightly, his chest going up and down rapidly, making you giggle before your lips touched the tip making him groan loudly.
“Fuck you are gonna torture me?”
“I told you what I want, if you give it me, I’ll give it to you,” another kiss on his cockhead makes him throw his head back groaning before his hand go to the back of your head, your hair getting tangled within his fingers, “it’s a fair trade don’t you think, pretty boy?”
“Fuck I knew you were gonna be my end the day I laid eyes on you, bunny,” at that, you finally took the rest of his underwear, making his cock slap you in the face, making you giggle before holding it with one of your hands, putting just the tip inside, feeling his precum on your tongue before squeezing lightly the base of his cock. “Fuck, you are such a fucking tease, the way you’d sway your hips, how you always wear something that shows skin just to have my hands on you trying to take those fuckers who just want to fuck you away -”
“But you are one of the fuckers who want to fuck me, aren’t you Wooyoungie?”
“The difference between me and them my dear bunny, is that I can fuck you senseless and you’d still come begging for more, because you are just as desperate for my cock as I am for your cunt.”
At that he forced your head down his cock making you gag as you took him all in, tapping his thigh after a while, feeling him pull your head back and up, as his lips finally met yours. It was sloppy, desperate, lustful, it was all you both wanted and more and you felt him pulling you closer, his other hand found your waist going up your back to unclasp your bra, but never leaving your lips, not even when he felt your hardened nipples against his chest, pulling you closer to his, letting his cock press against your stomach.
You tried to put your hand in between you two, but he wouldn’t let you, keeping you firm against him as his tongue explored your mouth, God the amount of time you imagine those lips against yours, leaving wet traces until it finally found itself between your legs with your hands on his hair as he ate you out.
“Be a good girl and sit on the couch, legs spread open,��� he was as out of breath as you were, yet you complied taking off your bra first, but he stopped you as your hands went to your panties to pull them off. “Did I say something about taking these off?”
“Then how are you gonna eat me out properly?”
“Oh, my sweet bunny,” he hovered over you on the couch, the smirk forever present as you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you, “I’m gonna make you scream my name in no time once I get a taste of you, and then I’ll fuck into oblivion until you beg me to stop.”
“Is that a promise?”
The doe eyes you sent him not matching the secret wish that question held, making his smirk grow as he pulled you in for another kiss, one of his hands going all the way from your waits to your knee as his other, found your breasts, pinching the hardened nipple making you moan against the kiss before he slapped it before massaging it all over again, making you whimper against his lips.
“It’s a promise since the moment I first saw you,” his lips lingering closely to your own as you felt his hand squeeze your thigh as his other moved up to your neck cupping your face pulling you in for another tender and innocent kiss before he started moving downwards, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses on your jaw and neck before reaching the valley of your breasts. “It’s a promise from the moment I saw your tits almost slipping out of one of those dresses you wore for the first night out we had as a group, where I almost had to fight a few guys who wanted what was mine.”
“I thought I wasn’t yours yet.”
“You were always mine, you just didn’t want to accept it,” his mouth fully involved your breast as his hand massaged the other, feeling the little random bites that would sure make their appearance in the morning, but you couldn’t care less as your fingers found his hair moaning every time he sucked and bit your breast, “so pretty like that and I barely touched you, I wonder how pretty you look all fucked out.”
“Why don’t you start by putting your mouth to use somewhere else?”
“Your wish is my comment, love,” he kisses you one last time before the wet trail of kisses happens all over again, slowly but surely accompanied by small bites here and there as Wooyoung makes sure to hold you down and spread your legs open as he gets closer to your clothed core. “Fuck, you are so wet, I wonder how much you can last.”
Combination of his words, eye contact, fingers gently taking the edges of your panties and the small kiss he leaves on top of your clothed aching clit, makes your hips jolt up, bringing a chuckle to Wooyoung’s mouth as he finally takes your panties of, a this line connecting your panties to your soaking core makes him curse before completely throwing your panties somewhere along with the other clothes. “Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you and make you cum on my mouth.”
Before you could say anything, his hot breath collided with your sensitive clit, a tender and contained kiss being left there as you could sense the chuckle Wooyoung left at your whimpers, reverberated through your body before your fingers found his head pulling him into your soaked cunt. His hands firmly on the back of your thigh spreading them open, your knees up to your chest as his mouth fully involved your clit, the kitty licks making you moan loudly and arch your back, feeling the small laugh he let out reverberate through your body once more.
“Woo, fuck-,” you cried as he lowered his head, his tongue at your entrance as his nose would meet your clit sending shocks of electricity and warmth through your body, “fuck, just like that Woo, fu-fuck, your ton-tongue, I can’t I-”
“Don’t you dare hold back, I wanna hear you, bunny.”
As two fingers entered you and his mouth closed on your clit sucking it, a scream left you. His fingers were quick, curling from time to time inside you making you squirm under him, as his arm could barely hold you still, but he honestly didn’t care, the sight of you shaking under him, your taste on his mouth, the feeling of your cunt clenching his fingers was sending him into overdrive and he wasn’t even inside you yet.
The first wave hit you like a truck, the guttural sound that left your mouth followed by a scream as your fingers pulled Wooyoung’s hair was enough for him to finally let go of your wet folds. Once you felt his face away from you, your eyes met with his face glistening with your juice as he pushed his two fingers into his mouth, ravishing on your taste before pulling you in for another kiss. Your hands quickly ran down his chest to find his hard cock, before he stopped you.
“But Woo-”
“We’ll have plenty of that, unfortunately, if I don’t get inside of you right now, I’m afraid I’ll combust,” as you pulled him in for another kiss, your heels found his ass and thigh, pulling him into you, your hand finding his hard leaking cock and putting it at your entrance, making him whine against your lips as you squeezed him with your hand as to pull him closer to where both of you needed. “Fuck, I’m gonna break you, bunny.”
“You can break me as many times as you want if you are willing to put me back together.”
“God you are so perfect,” as his lips found yours with a tender and borderline innocent kiss, his cock pushed through your gummy walls making you gasp and moan against his lips before he hid his face on the crook of your neck, biting the base as he slowly entered your tight hole. “Tell me when I can move.”
A small shake of your head was all he needed before he started progressively thrust into you, his hips finding yours at a rapid pace as both your moans and grunts filled the house along with the sounds of your bodies. Wooyoung was a bit over average size, but he was girthy, so you were still getting used to his size as he fucked you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix every so often.
His hands pulled your legs towards your chest making him hit a whole new spot inside you, making you scream at the feeling before his thumb start rubbing circles on your clit, your legs already shaking, mouth open, uncontrollable moans leaving both of you as his thrusts became sloppier, his kisses were messy and you clenched so much around him that ripped profanity after profanity from his lips.
“Woo, I’m coming, fuck, please don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, it feels so good!”
“Cum with me, love, cum all over my cock,” as if magic, his words hitting your core sending you to combust under him, shaking and screaming as you felt your orgasm reach you, feeling his warm seeds inside you as his thrusts faltered before coming to a stop. Your legs were numb, but your arms quickly wrapped around him, your nails scratching his scalp softly as his body weight held you against the couch. “You are just as perfect as I imagined you to be.”
Your giggle came with the small kisses and love bites he left on your neck before pulling out of you and placing some distance between you two as he watched his seeds leak from your fluttering hole, a smirk on his lips before his lips met with your clit making you cry a moan.
“Wooyoung, please…!”
“Sorry love,” his face was quick to go up to yours, a kiss on your lips as you both smiled at the current situation. “So, can I ask you to be officially mine, now?”
“I was yours from the moment we met, Wooyoungie.”
“That’s my good little bunny.”
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Tension and Desires
SUMMARY | You and Yunho are friends who are oblivious to each other's feelings. Despite the playful animosity between you two, a strong sexual tension simmers beneath the surface. After a night of flirting and drinking, you finally give in to your desires…
PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader
RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+
GENRE | obliviousfriend!Yunho, obliviousfriend!Reader, smut, oblivious friends to lovers, non-idol au, jealousy, boneheads/idiots in love
CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, filthy dirty thoughts, protected and unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), marking (hickies), shower sex, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving/m. giving), dirty talk, praise kink, creampies
LENGTH | 8,466 words
TAGLIST | —
NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety
AUTHOR’S NOTE | I originally had a different title for this one but I changed it since it didn't really make sense for this fic LOL. Thank you @kpop---scenarios and @anyamaris for beta reading this! I'm so glad you both like it! I hope everyone else likes it haha. Show support by liking, commenting and reblogging. Love you all 💚
You knew Yunho was trouble the second you met him. That cocky grin, the way he always seemed to be one step ahead of you, and the undeniable spark in his eyes whenever you were near. You couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered whenever he was around, but you also couldn't stand his arrogance. It was a constant push and pull, a battle of wits and wills, a dance of attraction and repulsion. You were enemies, yes, but there was an unspoken tension between you, a simmering heat that threatened to consume you both.
The neon lights blurred as you stepped into the bustling club, a wave of laughter and music washing over you. Your friends all decided it would be a good idea to celebrate your last day of freedom before you started the full-time job of keeping up with law school and you were too drunk on the possibilities for tonight to question it. As long as you played it safe, you were going to have a great last night as a college girl.
Shimmies and shapes began to appear as the music buzzed, your friends pulling you and waving for attention from across the room. Mingi's arm slung casually over your shoulder, a playful grin on his face as he led you through the crowd. Wooyoung was already on the dance floor, a whirlwind of energy, while San and Yeosang held court at a table, drinks in hand and smiles on their faces. The night was young, and the possibilities were endless.
The party was in full swing, bodies swaying to the pulsing music, laughter echoing through the room. You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see Hongjoong, a sly grin on his face.
"Here," he said, extending a glass filled with a shimmering amber liquid. "This'll get you in the mood."
You hesitated, eyeing the drink suspiciously.
"What is it?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. Hongjoong chuckled, his eyes twinkling.
"Just a little something to loosen you up," he replied, giving you a wink before walking away to join Yeosang and San at the table.
Yunho's eyes sparkled with mischief as he walked up to you. "Looks like Hongjoong was trying to get you plastered."
You snorted, rolling your eyes. "I'm just trying to figure out what the fuck this is."
"Do you want to find out?" He leaned closer, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils and sending goosebumps prickling down your spine. "Don't be shy. I know you."
You glanced down at the drink and back at him, fighting the urge to smile.
"I might be curious. But what's in it for you?" you asked. Yunho smirked, taking a step closer so that his chest was mere inches away. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, feel his gaze traveling over your face. His eyes lingered on your lips and he smiled again, looking like he was enjoying himself.
"Maybe I just like making trouble," he whispered. He plucked the glass from your hand, bringing it to his lips and downing the drink in one smooth movement. His tongue darted out to lick the residual amber from his lips before he placed the empty glass down on the counter behind him. He leaned closer to you, his voice dropping an octave as he spoke. "I could tell you but then I'd have to kiss you. And you wouldn't want that, would you?"
"Can you two stop flirting and get your asses over here?!" Wooyung called out as he joined the rest of the gang at the table. The lights pulsed to the rhythmic beat of the music and the temperature of the room seemed to rise several degrees.
"I, for one, have no problem with you making out," Seonghwa teased, causing Hongjoong and Jongho to laugh. "As a matter of fact, I think you two should just go ahead and kiss."
"You must be fucking crazy if you think I'm going to kiss him," you retorted with a huff. Hongjoong rolled his eyes and looked away as Jongho smothered a grin with his hand. Yeosang and San were thoroughly amused, chuckling and throwing a wink here or there.
"If you're too chicken to make a move, maybe he should just find someone else who will kiss him," Mingi shrugged, his gaze drifting to the crowd dancing and all the pretty girls that were bouncing and shaking.
"Oh? Do you have someone in mind, Mingi?" Wooyung jokes, looking past him to the other side of the bar. A sly smile slipped across Mingi's lips as he pointed at someone a few tables away from their own. "Assuming she says yes."
"Any girl that turns down Yunho is insane," Mingi huffed, giving you a pointed look.
"And I should care why?" You snorted as you looked from Yunho's handsome smirk to the girl Mingi had chosen. She was certainly pretty, wearing a flowy white blouse and tight black jeans, her red lipstick the perfect complement to her striking features. You watched as she glanced over at Yunho, giggling behind her hand. “I don’t care if he flirts with other girls.”
“Uh huh,” Jongho raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you say.”
"Have fun watching the show then," Yunho grinned, standing up and dusting imaginary lint from his jacket.
"You'll definitely know where I am," you retorted, not caring at all if he was only flirting for the hell of it. "Maybe I'll meet someone cute enough that I'll forget all about you and kiss them instead."
"Like who? Our friends?" he quipped, an eyebrow arching high on his forehead. "We all know you only have eyes for me."
"Ugh!" You rolled your eyes and downed another drink. "Fuck off!"
As you watched Yunho saunter across the club towards the pretty girl Mingi had singled out, something within you twisted sharply. It took everything inside you not to storm across the floor and yank her away from him. But you didn't even want Yunho... did you? The alcohol you'd consumed must have been having more of an effect on you than usual.
"He won't do it," Hongjoong laughed, slamming his empty glass down onto the table. Jongho sat beside him, an amused smirk dancing on his lips.
"He's only ever had eyes for you, Y/N," Yeosang chimed in with a drunken grin. "Never any other girl but you."
"You all need to get your eyes checked," you hissed. But the sinking sensation in your gut said something entirely different.
The pair leaned together, whispering back and forth, flirting and giggling, their eyes never straying far from each other. Jealousy and curiosity surged through you as you watched. Your pulse raced with an irrational need to reach out and pull him back, to declare you were his and not allow the unknown girl to lay a single finger on him.
You needed another drink.
Slipping away from your friends and their silly assumptions, you slid between dancing patrons and dodged drunken strangers until you made it to the bar. An attractive bartender in a form fitting uniform stepped up and you placed an order. He looked you over, nodding and winking appreciatively before stepping away to make your order. A familiar presence pressed against your side. Turning, you spotted San and smiled, greeting him. His arm encircled your waist as he pulled you to him, to talk in your ear over the loud thump of the bass.
"You okay?" He asked, his gaze following yours to watch Yunho as he flirted with the pretty girl. "He won't kiss her."
"Why would I care?" You blurted, refusing to look back at Yunho's tempting smirk as it bloomed on the girl's flushed cheeks. "I don't care about him, not at all."
"You can pretend all you want," he smiled at you foundly. "But Yunho is different when he's with you. He doesn't look at anyone like he looks at you."
The bartender returned, shooting you another flirty grin, before placing a row of shots lined up on the table before you. Plucking a bill from your back pocket, you paid the handsome guy and looked back over at Yunho. You hated to admit it but San was right. The second he glanced back at you, the girl and the whole damn bar seemed to disappear. Only you were in his line of vision.
Grabbing a shot, you slammed it back, enjoying the warmth as it coated your throat. And then another. And another, until every nerve in your body burned deliciously. A thrill rippled through you. Shooting Yunho a challenge, you watched as his brow furrowed slightly, as though contemplating a challenge. Then his smile turned devious and he motioned to the girl to come closer.
Fuck. You grabbed one more shot, not caring that the music had changed to a more energetic song. Slamming the glass onto the table, you marched towards the pair, who had taken residence on the couch against the wall, tucked into the far back corner of the place.
The crowd moved with the beat and bodies shook and ground into each other as you pressed through, your only goal being Yunho and what you might do. Punch him in the face, maybe. Or kiss that obnoxious grin right off his full mouth. Maybe a mix of both, since you weren't sure which emotion was stronger - hatred or desire.
His hands caressed the girl's neck, cradling her face. He whispered something into her ear and she let out a loud laugh. Nausea and desire struck you hard. Without slowing down or stopping to think, you latched onto his arm, yanking him up, and glaring hard into his pretty face.
"I'm sorry but I'm stealing my friend back," you stated. The girl glared at you, about to speak, but you yanked again. This time, he came willingly, stumbling alongside as he was pulled through the throng of bodies.
"Not enjoying the view anymore?" Yunho mused. When you didn't respond he yanked, grabbing you around the waist. You lost balance, letting out a surprised squeak, but he caught you, spinning and pushing your back to the wall. His arms trapped you, pressing along your sides as he caged you in. Leaning down, he whispered into your ear, his breath hot. "Or did you think it was going somewhere?"
You couldn't suppress the shudder that rolled down your spine as his low, suggestive tone caressed you, lighting every nerve ending aflame. His hand cupped the side of your cheek, his touch warm and demanding.
"Why?" you gasped out, swallowing the fear and frustration that crawled up your throat. "Why does she get all that and not me?"
"You want me too?" he quipped, his gaze dragging over your face and settling on your eyes. "Are you sure, Y/N, or are you drunk?"
You had never felt more sure of anything in your entire life. Staring deeply into his eyes, your hands fisted the fabric of his jacket, and you lifted yourself up onto your tiptoes, drawing your face closer to him, pausing an inch away from his mouth, waiting.
"Stop me now if I'm making a huge mistake," you whispered, hoping his mouth would connect to yours.
A grin, a flash of pearly whites, and the lightest of laughs were the only things you got in response. No warning and no stopping, you found your lips smashed against his, warm and full. His tongue ran over the seam of your mouth, teasing a moan. Your eyes slid shut as your senses were overpowered, hands desperately grabbing whatever you could.
Your head was swimming with thoughts of Yunho and only Yunho, as his fingers ran through your hair and pulled your body close. Yunho made sure that there wasn't a centimeter between you both, kissing and touching and nibbling and grinding his body against yours, and your arms curled around him like you never wanted him to move away. And in some way you really didn't—you never wanted this moment to end.
As if hearing this thought, Yunho pulled back, keeping your hips pressed together with one hand but putting distance between the rest of your bodies, keeping his hands away from your waist even though it had just been groping at you moments before. You were panting hard and your cheeks were flushed red, and you felt like your body was burning up with arousal and embarrassment and guilt and desire. Yunho was staring down at you, face as bright red as yours probably was, panting and out of breath and so sexy. Your eyes darted down, to the clear bulge in his slacks, then darted back up again, not knowing how Yunho would take you just blatantly staring. Yunho leaned in close so his forehead was against yours, bringing up his hands to cradle your face in them gently.
"Get a fucking room," you heard one of your friends say from somewhere behind you, but you didn't care because right now it was just you and Yunho, so close and yet still too far. He looked down at your mouth, his cheeks blushing brighter pink, and you pucker your lips a little just because you were a tease, and he ran his thumb over your lower lip.
Okay you were drunk. Very drunk.
"Sooo..." you breathed out, trying to stand tall and look Yunho in the eyes. He smiled that dumb toothy grin, which caused the wrinkles that you found so cute and sexy to show, and tilted his head slightly.
"Sooo..." He responded, his voice deeper than usual. There was a long pause where you both just looked at each other, lost in your thoughts and his gaze.
"Yunho, just take Y/N home, will ya?" Hongjoong said, groaning while passing by and clapping him on the shoulder. "Fuck the alcohol out of your system or something. You both have been looking at each other the whole evening! We get it, you want to go fuck! Go!"
With his final word, Hongjoong gave Yunho a little shove in your direction, and as if in slow motion your gazes met and it was like time had stopped for you. Before you knew it, his hand was pressed against your back, the other taking a hold of your hand, and he was leading you off and out the bar and into the backseat of a taxi.
When the car pulled away from the curb, you had to snap back to reality to tell the driver your address, and then Yunho grabbed you by the chin to tilt your head back toward him. When you saw the lust in his eyes, you gasped softly, your stomach immediately erupting into butterflies and a wet feeling appearing down below.
"Yunho..." you breathed out shakily, a hint of a whine in your tone, and your lips parted, showing that pretty tongue to him once more. Yunho smirked a bit, but then moved forward and bit on your tongue softly. His lips were soft, but demanding, and he guided you so he could restrain your wrists to your lap, so when he kissed you it was hot and full of heat. You pressed up close into his chest, and Yunho slowly released his grip to hold onto your jaw, the kiss starting to move slower and more sensually. You slid a hand up his chest, pressing under his jacket to feel him. Yunho is muscular and lean; tall with broad shoulders and a muscular back. His ass is to die for, and his thighs and calves are so deliciously thick, and all you want to do is rub your hands over him and suck on his skin.
Finally the taxi slowed to a stop, pulling up to your apartment. You both stumbled out of the car, you paying the man while Yunho held the car door open for you. Then you were stumbling up the steps and into the lobby of the building. You didn't let Yunho go and Yunho didn't let you go, and then finally, finally, finally the apartment door closed behind the both of you and Yunho pinned you to the back of the door, grabbing your thighs and pressing between them.
The kisses were hard and fast, his tongue in your mouth exploring and licking at your teeth, tongue and lips. You grabbed the lapel of his jacket with one hand, the other diving into his hair and massaging his scalp, while walking backwards towards your bedroom. As you entered through the door you shoved Yunho's jacket off his broad, smooth shoulders, feeling up the lean muscle.
You found yourself falling backwards onto your bed, but that was okay because that was exactly where you wanted to be right then. You slid back onto your elbows while Yunho crawled up the length of your legs, his body a delicious line of lean muscle that you wanted to have all to yourself.
"God, I could fuck you so good..." Yunho mumbled as he leaned forward, capturing your lips in another kiss and you mewled needily into his mouth, grinding your hips up into his. "Gonna fuck you so good until the only name you can remember is mine."
"Fuck," you whined, head tossed to the side to bare your throat to him.
Yunho's hand trailed up your bare thigh, pushing your skirt up to pool at your hips. He stopped to look down at you, your hands pushing his shirt up and running over his torso. "No panties and your pussy shaven?" he said slowly with a soft moan of your name. "Fuck...you are going to ruin me tonight, aren't you baby?"
"Just get naked, Jeong," you groaned, your legs parting of their own accord. He chuckled in return and sat back on his heels to strip out of his clothes.
You know that tomorrow things would be back to the way they were—you and Yunho sniping at each other whenever given the opportunity, making mean and bitchy comments to each other when in front of everyone, all the while with an intense sexual attraction and deep feelings. But tonight...tonight was a free-for-all, where the air between you both is charged with drunken passion and sexual frustration. You always secretly wanted to fuck each others brains out but would never admit it to anybody (no matter how obvious it was to your friends). Tonight, you wouldn't regret anything. Tonight, it was just you and Yunho, and his perfect mouth on your thighs.
"Fuck," you moaned as his teeth sank into your thigh, giving a harsh suck so that his mark was left. "Guess I won't be wearing skirts and shorts anytime soon..." You didn't really mean that because god did you want everyone to see the marks he left on you.
"Guess not," Yunho growled back as he left a few more hickeys along the inside of your thighs, enjoying how you squirmed under him and moaned his name. His hands trailed up your body under your top, his long fingers touching everywhere and finding your breasts. "No bra either? God Y/N, you planned on this happening."
"Maybe I did," you murmured back, opening your eyes to look down at your body and lock gazes with him. "Maybe I wanted you. Maybe I always have."
"Fuck," came the breathy whine before he was attacking your lips, and your shirt was being pulled over your head. With your clothes practically discarded in an instant, Yunho attacked your bare torso, kissing and licking and sucking his way down. He lavished your breasts with attention, swirling the pert nub of your nipples between his lips and letting it go with a small pop, moving to the other when he deemed it had enough attention. When he let this nipple free, a long stream of spit connected his tongue to the sensitive nub, and you watched the drool fall onto your skin with an aroused shiver.
"I thought you hated me," Yunho began in between licks along your lower stomach. "That I hated you."
"Never," you moaned in response, curling one hand into his hair. "You're just so damn infuriating sometimes."
"So are you," was all Yunho mumbled before he attached his mouth to your cunt. His tongue swiped across your outer folds first, flattening out against the length, then ran his tongue up and down the slit, dipping just barely past the entrance to your core. The little jolts and tremors coursing through your body, combined with your choked moans and high pitched whines were absolute perfection to his ears, and Yunho buried his face as deep as he could. It was intoxicating, the taste of your pussy, sweet and slick with your arousal, and he practically salivated into it like a starving man. Your whole body was flush and warm against his mouth, and he savored the taste of you on his tongue as he ate you like a fucking buffet.
And honestly Yunho was eating you better than anybody had ever before. His tongue was flicking against you, nose pressing right into the spot that made you absolutely go fucking crazy. You squirmed and mewled loudly, fingers tangled in his soft fluffy hair, and you let your legs curl up and around his wide and firm shoulders, bucking your hips up against his face.
"God, please," you whined, voice tapering off into a soft moan at the end as Yunho ate your sopping pussy like there's no tomorrow. You had forgotten what pleasure even felt like until then. His long fingers circled your wet pussy hole, pushing their way past your folds to massage against the taut muscle with every dip of his mouth. Your legs curled tightly around his neck, not choking, but trapping Yunho right where he was in place.
"Yes! God, Yunho, yes!" Your back arched, eyes closed and a low whine in your throat, your body quickly coming to the point of no return. You ground your hips forward, rutting against his mouth with fervent enthusiasm, but you were pulled from that moment of pure bliss when he slipped a long finger into you and pumped the digit back and forth. Yunho let his gaze travel over your body, over your soft form and watch the way the curves moved when he shifted or pressed in certain spots.
His name slipped through your lips in a whisper, his fingers pausing mid thrust. Your hand gripped his forearm as your whole body tightened, your pussy quivering around his finger. A little trickle of liquid seeped past his finger and onto the sheets under you, your insides trembling as you came from Yunho's fingers and mouth. The man kept moving his hand through the aftershocks, allowing the moment of bliss to be drawn out as long as possible, watching how you continued to gasp and whimper as you came.
"There you go," he whispered encouragingly, his eyes still roaming up and down the length of your naked figure. "Mm, such a beautiful thing, cumming just from the press of my lips and tongue." He smiled and leaned back down to pepper your belly with small kisses, his free hand roaming over the tops of your thighs to cup your bottom in a small squeeze.
"Yunho, I need you, please," you whined, batting your eyes as you looked down your naked chest to where the tall man was laid in the vee of your thighs. "Please?"
Yunho hesitated, still for a moment before looking up from between your thighs to where you laid propped up on your elbows. "Do you have any condoms?" he asked, his thumb running gently back and forth over the delicate skin of your lower tummy.
Your stomach flipped slightly from the intimate contact, a smile crossing over your face at his care. You turned, fumbled for the nightstand and pulled it out, dropping a wrapped package right next to him, earning a little smile from Yunho. The latex was pulled over Yunho's considerable girth, the latex slipping easily down his long shaft, and he spread his body between your open thighs once the little package had been tossed away.
"God, we should have done this earlier," Yunho whispered against the juncture between your neck and shoulder, giving the area a gentle nibble, then pressed his tip to your wet slit.
Your whole body tensed, nerves beginning to tighten again at the feeling of his dick near your sopping pussy. And when Yunho was finally settled in the hilt, filling you to the brim, you let out a squeak at how absolutely large he was, the stretch and burn from the stretch making you even more drenched than before.
And when he pulled out, you felt so empty, before Yunho was pushing right back into you, filling you all over again, his breath hitching just the slightest bit at the way you sucked him in.
Your mouth opened wide in a soundless gasp, as your heart pounded loudly and wildly, a whine escaping when Yunho grinded his hips down and slowly, rubbed up and against all of your walls and nerve endings and you knew he felt good, so good.
"C'mon pretty girl," Yunho cooed as your breaths and moans started to pick up, speeding up the pace, moving from a gentle slow drag of the hips to deep, quick pounding thrusts.
"More," you breathed, reaching out to grab his hand. You needed something to cling to; something to focus on and feel, so your hand would lock onto Yunho's forearm as his cock fucked you deeper, faster. "D-don't stop," you pleaded in a low whimper. "Don't stop fucking me...please."
The pace became even more erratic and punishing, as the both of you got closer and closer to release. His large hand slipped down to palm your breast, a jolt going through your body as his thick fingers kneaded into the sensitive flesh. Every press was followed with his hips pumping harder, working against each of your muscles as his length slid in and out. His hand trailed down further to rub at the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, his hand slipping with how soaked you were.
"So close…” you moaned.
Yunho picked up his pace again, slapping his balls against your plump ass everytime he sank inside of you. Your cries got higher in pitch and your back arched upwards, fingers gripping his forearms again.
"C'mon Y/N," Yunho encouraged again, panting from above you. His length pounded in and out, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum. Fucking cum."
You squeezed around him tightly, his pace and force not ceasing in any manner, and your hips twitched a bit, getting closer and closer. You practically sobbed as your climax grew closer and closer, almost painful and too sensitive.
And finally, finally the release. Your eyes shut tightly and your hips stuttered. Your back arched, almost lifting you completely off the bed, and your cries were muffled by Yunho's tongue forcing its way into your mouth. And you gushed all over Yunho, pussy pulsing rapidly as you felt Yunho fill the condom at the same time.
Your chest is heaving and sweat is dripping down your forehead and into your eyes. Your eyes are lidded as Yunho pants quietly over you, leaning up onto his palms above your naked body. Your muscles throb and pulse from the orgasm you and him just shared, and your hands rest on Yunho's firm sides, letting him bask in his moment of pride and post orgasmic bliss.
Finally he slipped out and fell to the bed beside you, pulling the used and tied condom off, tossing it into the wastebasket, then rolled over towards you and kissed your bare shoulder gently. "Best sex I've ever had," he admits honestly.
"Same," you breathed out in agreement, snuggling into his body. You close your eyes for a moment and bask in his warmth, letting yourself have this moment of complete and utter domestic bliss with Yunho.
When tomorrow comes, and hopefully you were not suffering from a hangover, you and Yunho would talk about what this meant between the both of you. Until then, however, sleep was what you needed most and so you allowed yourself to relax. Yunho's arm wrapped itself around you to pull your body into the line of his own, your back pressed flush against his warm chest, and you and him drifted off, clinging close together.
You blinked as the blinding sun spilled through the gaps in your blinds, the warmth waking you up slowly. It had been awhile since you woke up this slowly and naturally, not because of a loud alarm. What made it better was the strong arm curled around you, and the hard abs pressed into your side.
Oh yes, Yunho had definitely fallen into bed with you last night, after that sexy taxi ride, and hot steamy sex. You never had a night so good as the night you had with Yunho. In a matter of seconds it was like a rush of memories and your face grew red at the mere thought of them. You tried shifting your hips, to no avail. Well you guess last night's activities did a number on you. Yunho probably too, and sure enough you heard a slight groan behind you.
Your stomach flipped with excitement as he started stirring from his sleep, and it was at this moment you realized that you probably looked like an utter mess. Yet, your thoughts stopped as soon as he nuzzled your neck gently and held you a little bit tighter, keeping you firmly in place. You really wanted to turn and look, to stare into his beautiful face, and soak in his handsome looks but it seemed he wasn't ready to give up on cuddles quite yet, and who were you to refuse this man some cuddling?
It was rather comforting to hear Yunho's breathing pick up to show that he was awake. "Did last night really happen?"
Yunho's morning voice was like sex, something you didn't think you'd get so aroused by but damn did it affect you. You could listen to him talk like that forever and it would never get old.
"It did." You had no idea why, but your fingers were instantly drifting over his arm, rubbing gently against the firm muscles. His hold around you was soft but firm and strong, like you would stay with him all morning. Maybe you should have gotten up, maybe you should have suggested breakfast or something but honestly the thought of moving from the bed and losing this intimate contact sounded painful.
"We can talk later," he whispered against your skin, his morning stubble scratchy against your neck. Your back was pressed against his toned torso, your bare skin so warm and supple. "I just wanna stay here for a bit."
"Me too," you admit to him softly, shifting slightly closer as if that was even possible. His soft hair tickled your shoulder, and the little puffs of air brushing over your skin gave a soft chill of pleasure.
This felt right, all of this. As scary as that felt to admit and even consider. But for the time being, you really couldn't complain at all. You just wanted a lazy morning cuddling with a hot man that gave you the greatest night of your life last night, and would be more than happy to give you that again anytime. You would be crazy not to want to cuddle with this man in bed right now.
For now, you and Yunho could sleepily cuddle in bed, without thinking of what this meant for the two of you, because this could end so easily or maybe it will finally end up becoming something.
However, while both your brains would love to let you enjoy this quiet peaceful bliss, you heard the front door slammed shut and heard Wooyoung's voice in the hall. "YUNHO GET YOUR DICK OUT OF Y/N SO YOU BOTH CAN EAT BRUNCH AT THE DINER. IT IS HALF PAST NOON! SO SAY GOODBYE TO Y/N'S PUSSY AND HURRY UP, JEONG! TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE! OUR TAB IS ALREADY OPEN!"
"GOD, SHUT THE FUCK UP WOOYOUNG," both you and Yunho yell, turning beet red.
You are not looking forward to a full day of teasing from everyone. You turn to Yunho, who was already getting out of your bed. "Can we talk before we head out to meet up with everyone?"
"Yeah, just a little bit, before Wooyoung makes another one of those sex jokes about my dick that are terrible and not funny," Yunho grabs his boxers and slides them on. You stare at him in amusement, seeing he didn't mind being naked, like at all. It was refreshing.
"Look, about last nightㅡ"
Yunho smiles softly at you and he sits back down on the edge of your bed. "Don't worry, it doesn't have to be anything big or anything if you don't want it to, you know. We can still be friends or enemies or whatever and still have sex if that's what you want."
"Yeah?" you ask as he puts a strand of hair behind your ear, your face burning red and your heart fluttering.
"Well, I mean, I enjoyed the fuck out of last night and I would be really happy if it wasn't a one time deal," Yunho smiles when you scoot closer and turn on your side to be able to lay on his leg and wrap your arms around his waist. He even kisses your forehead.
"Me too. Let's just see what happens, no pressure or commitment, okay? If either of," you gesture with your finger between your bodies, "are feeling weird, just say something and we’ll talk, okay?"
"Yeah, sure thing," Yunho answers you, his voice almost tender, something you hadn't heard before last night. It was different. He gives you another little squeeze, letting you nestle into his warm lap.
The moment was over a little sooner than you expected.
"YUNHO! Y/N! FOR THE LAST TIME IF YOU DON'T HURRY UP I WILL COME INTO THE ROOM AND DRAG YOU OUT. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE NAKED. GET THE FUCK OUT OF THAT ROOM."
Yunho gets off the bed and puts on his t-shirt, groaning. "We're coming. God, could you just shut the fuck up?"
He shakes his head and holds out his hand to you, helping you out of the bed. His gaze flickers downwards as your legs stretch and show off the marks that he placed all along the tops of your thighs; what were supposed to be easy hickeys turned into harsh bites and small bruises that stood out against your delicate skin.
"What are you staring at, Jeong?"
"Just your pretty legs and beautiful hickeys all over them," he grins and allows you to grab some clothes.
"Shut up," you blush, knowing that not even last night and your hot makeout session would prepare you for what would come ahead now.
So much for the enemy line you and Yunho created between the two of you.
You met up with the rest of your friends at the usual diner that you and your friends always went to. It had been a good twenty minutes and no one said a word to you or Yunho. However, San looked way too satisfied and Seonghwa just kept a smug and knowing look the entire time you all had brunch.
"Sooooooo..." Mingi finally decided to talk, everyone going silent when he leaned in. "Had fun last night, Yunho?"
"They most likely did," Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows and stuffed a hashbrown in his mouth. "They were still in the bedroom when I barged into the apartment this morning."
"I'm going to change the code to my door so you can't get in, fucker," you stuck your tongue out and went back to your food. "Okay, look. I didn't mean to go home with Yunho last night. It just happened!"
Hongjoong laughed. "Uh huh, of course. It 'just happened.'"
Yunho shot you a teasing look, but then cleared his throat, grabbing all the attention. "Well, you guys wanna know what else just happened last night?"
You winced. "Yunho, don’t!"
"Y/N was definitely expecting something last night." Yunho continues anyways. "No panties and bra—"
You clasped a hand over his mouth, cheeks flushing red. "No one needs to know!"
Jongho raised his eyebrows. "Well damn. But really it's no surprise you got dicked down by Yunho."
San shook his head. "Man, now I need to find someone to hook up with. This is not fair."
Seonghwa chuckled. "Same. Yunho can't be the only one getting pussy."
"You got any female friends, Y/N?" Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows as you picked a strawberry off of his pancake and ate it. "Got any friends looking for a dick appointment? I am single."
You groaned as your other friends started looking around their table for the single friends you might have. "Ugh, okay. Can we please, PLEASE just shut up about everything that happened last night and forget about it? Okay. Whatever happened, happened. It's over."
Everyone stared at Yunho curiously when he said, "Oh no. It definitely did not happen."
Your cheeks burned. "Don't be such a dick. God."
You felt a hand rub over the marks left from his mouth against your inner thighs, a gentle smile appearing on his face. Thank god that you weren't wearing anything short because everyone would certainly catch a glance of his claim all over your soft and plush legs.
"He's your dick, huh?" Yeosang's coy voice picked up in the conversation.
"Lucky, lucky," Mingi wiggled his eyebrows.
Seonghwa started cracking up. "To think only a few hours ago you were fucking a guy you pretended to hate."
"He's growing on her," Hongjoong raised his eyebrows and met your eyes, a little mischievous smile on his face. "Admit it Y/N, you like the shit he pulls on you."
You didn't answer, opting for another strawberry to distract your mouth and brain. Yunho didn't help your case when the hand that was on your thigh, a reminder of exactly what he was capable of doing with his fingers, gripped at your soft flesh possessively.
"GOD. JUST MARRY ALREADY." Jongho groans loudly, hearing you squeak quietly.
"Have kids or something." San chortled.
The others, sans Yunho of course, start agreeing as they watch you and Yunho trade looks, catching you smile just the slightest and him gazing intently at your pretty lips. Wooyoung, tired of everyone in his immediate proximity, groaned at the ceiling.
"JUST ADMIT YOU BOTH LIKE EACH OTHER OR FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, PUT A RING ON THAT BITCH, YUNHO," Wooyoung stares at Yunho in disbelief, feeling a need to laugh hysterically. "We're all sick of watching the love-hate thing between you two."
Everyone burst into agreement.
Yunho shrugs casually. "Alright, we have our first date and we plan to get married. That satisfies you? Everyone is sick and tired of the back and forth fighting right?"
You rolled your eyes at him, reaching across the table to pat his arm softly and soothingly. "Thanks, honey. They definitely bought that."
He grinned. "I'll buy your love."
Hongjoong scoffed as everyone looked like they were gearing up to slap the two of you. "We see right through that crap. We might be crazy, but we ain't that fucked up in the head not to recognize bullshit. Now go away, you two."
All seven of them shoved the two of you together, out the door of the diner, with smiles on their faces and shouting some explicit words.
You stood with Yunho beside your car. "They're batshit insane."
"Isn't that why we love them?" He raised an eyebrow as you pretended to think about it. He laughs. "You're a pain in my ass sometimes."
"You're a pain in my ass too."
"Ha...Yunho," you mumbled his name, grasping his wet back as he held you against the tiles, mouth attaching to the marks on your neck as the steaming shower cascaded down on both of you. The tiles were icy against your back, water pelting down on you, steam heavy in the room. Yunho couldn't stop for more than a second, couldn't breathe. Everything that came out of his mouth was praise to how much you fit him so perfectly; you squeezed him like no one else could ever have, and the way he touched you made you lightheaded, unable to think of anyone else, ever. "Oh god..."
Your legs were wrapped around his hips, your toes flexing as the shower water rained down over him, his hands holding your thighs, fingertips sinking in your plush, plump skin. It has been months now, close to two or three, since Yunho and you have been sleeping together. To be completely honest, it wasn't that simple either; when it happened between the both of you it was never 'sleeping together' and everything about it was very complicated.
Sometimes, it was fucking, sometimes it was love making. Sometimes it was slow and sensual while other times were hard, fast and rough. Sometimes it was just sex where you leave each other afterwards. Other times it was staying together and sleeping curled into the sheets. Everything that had to do with what you had going on with Yunho was complicated and difficult.
"Oh my God..." His cock kept diving into you, meeting your desperate whines as your hands tightened around his strong biceps, listening to the short stuttered breath as your thighs quivered, tightening around him. Yunho swore and dropped his face into your throat, a moan pressing to your collarbone when he took another thrust. You writhed on the spot as his hand tightened at your thigh and around the curve of your back. "Yunho."
"Fuck Y/N..." Yunho moaned against your neck. “Say my name again, like that. Goddamn you look so fucking pretty with my dick inside of you. Always looks so pretty on my cock. Made for my dick." His forehead dragged against yours, nipping at your bottom lip. "Love you like this. Begging, aching, beautiful...so perfect for me..." His voice came out, strangled and raw, leaving you trembling and moaning as the sounds he pushed out of your throat, swallowing them with sloppy and heavy kisses.
The warm shower water still beat against you, trickling around your bodies and spilling over to the bathroom floor, the stall all humid. His large and massive body hovered over you, hands braced over your back and leg, fingers leaving searing patterns against you. The touches, kisses, sounds, the heat in the humid bathroom. It had you gasping his name, higher, deeper and louder.
God. How fucking had you never let this happen before? Let him bring you apart piece by piece in every way, watch him work you for hours like a canvas to his finger tips, show him every part of you that no one else has been allowed to see?
Now you had him all to yourself. Every ounce. Every inch.
And boy, were you insatiable.
"Do you hear how gorgeous you sound?" he praised hoarsely. Yunho groaned at the filthy sound of his wet, throbbing and long cock pushing its way in your pussy.
"Yes, Yunho," the look of pure satisfaction and power spread on his handsome face as you answered him with breathlessness and surrender had you clawing at his back. You squeezed his shoulders and ground your teeth. "Oh fuck, Yunho...I can't...I don't thinkㅡ"
He bucked his hips into your clenching hole harder.
"Damn Y/N," His breath brushed the shell of your ear. His lips kissed you hungrily, passionately, moving as roughly as his thrusts, slick with water. "I won't ever get tired of this, ever."
"Me neither," you mewled against his swollen lips, face flushing red as he ground into you, throwing his hips faster, harder, leaving you crying out as you clutched around him, arching into him. "Yes, oh fuck! Yes!"
The constant drag and pull on his dick sent your body and mind soaring to the heavens, making you mewl and call his name in a needy voice. It was more than a simple tug and release, more than fucking on occasion, a certain intimacy you only shared. "Y/N. I want this everyday. Just you, right here, getting fucked on my dick, falling apart on me. Over and over again."
"Me...too. Oh my god," Your lips parted with another loud, lustful cry of his name, pleasure swelling throughout your entire body. Yunho moaned a stream of explicit words, his brow furrowed and his hands shaking a little bit against your skin. The roll of his hips lost some of its rhythm, coming faster, the slap of wet skin against your thighs even louder as his heavy and thick cock abused your entrance. "More. Oh. OH, FUCK YES!"
His eyes closed as his dick pushed its way deeper into you with every shove. "So fucking close," Yunho grunts, your back and hips slapping against the wall behind you as his body pushed you against it, pinning you on his hard length. "Let go, baby, cum all over my dick."
"Yunho, fuck! Don't stop, Yunho, ohㅡ" You whine, tightening and tensing under him, "Don't stop. Fuck, I'm going toㅡ"
"Cum for me baby, that's it, cum for me," the guttural noises rolling off his tongue only spur you on further, nails digging into his back and your thighs trembling.
It takes a few more long and powerful thrusts before you find yourself yelling his name, coming on his dick hard. His rough growls of curses and your name turn breathless, hips twitching as his cock buried deep inside of you, cum shooting into you. Yunho's head drops into the curve of your shoulder.
You slump a little, finding no energy to keep your limbs taut anymore as he slips from your pussy, slowly lowering you back onto the shower floor. As Yunho catches his breath and releases the leg you were hanging onto him by, your heart still pounds so rapidly that it leaves you struggling to stand up right, slumping against his shoulder.
"Are you alright?" Yunho rasped, smoothing some wet hair from the front of your flushed, warm face and pecking a gentle kiss against the corner of your mouth. You grin a little and lean into him, hands sliding against his broad and soaked chest, slick with water. "Take your time. Just try not to pass out. Not that I won't catch you, but we will probably both slip and hit our heads. Then, we both will be in the hospital."
You laugh as he turns off the water to the shower, stretching to reach over you for two towels he put on the shelf to hang, handing one to you. After wrapping the fluffy cloth around your cold, drenched body, you step closer to him, allowing him to press a kiss to your forehead. "Well, I better be careful then."
He lets out a laugh as he picks you up in his arms and wanders into his bedroom. The afternoon sunlight pours through the partially drawn curtains, washing over the bed. Yunho dumps you unceremoniously into the thick, fluffy comforter. You smile teasingly and fall onto the mess of pillows and blankets, damp towels dropping carelessly aside as you relax back into his sheets. He crawls towards you, smiling the slightest as he kisses your wet, tangled hair. "That was good, though, huh? Not gonna deny that it wasn't?"
"I don't remember. Was someone pounding me against the shower tiles like the fucking world was ending? Did I enjoy it at the very least?" You snuggled against his naked chest as he chuckled and settled into the blanket beside you. "Not gonna lie, but a girl could really get used to being taken care of by a man who fucks like he means it."
"Someone who also can't get enough of your delicious ass pussy, huh?" He grinned, sliding an arm around your waist and shifting to rest his cheek against the top of your hair, rubbing at your wet strands. You giggle and swat at his side, drawing him closer against you, tangling your bare legs. "You'll just have to take what's yours. So a daily request for your favorite big dick is not that bad."
"Daily, huh? I'm lucky," you glance at him curiously as he rubs a thumb against the smoothness of your soft skin. "But seriously, you'd actually want this to be a permanent thing between us?"
Yunho stared intently. "Do you just want it to be sex or something more? I mean, what are we even, at the moment? We do more than fuck and leave, right?"
Your hand rubbed at his skin absent minded, thumb circling a light mark left behind from you earlier. "We do more than fuck and leave, yeah… What should we call what's going on between us, really?" You pondered for a bit, sitting up a little more.
"How does..." Yunho begins, sighing softly, a small and sweet smile pulling on his face. "Getting married and having kids like the guys suggested sound?"
You grinned as his deep voice purred against you. "Nah, not ready for that step yet."
"Wanna move in?" He asked, sounding surprisingly sincere. "Become my live-in girlfriend?"
There's the briefest pause, but Yunho's gaze never falters. He watches the emotions that flicker across your face, the excitement, surprise, happiness and affection all cross your features. "Yeah? Really? Girlfriend?"
"Of course," he nods slowly, not needing a single second to think about his decision. Yunho squeezes you a little tighter, resting his chin against the top of your head and kissing it lightly. "I'm not in it for just the sex. I genuinely...I really, like you."
"Yeah...I like you too." You pushed against his bare chest. He laughed, burying his face in the crook of your throat. "Only a little bit."
"A little bit," Yunho said, his hot breath ghosting along your collarbone, pushing your head back to place kisses along your neck. "Just a little bit? What about… a lot bit, maybe?"
His large palm stroked down your shoulder, over your arm, grabbing your hand and moving it between his legs. A guttural moan leaving you both as his fingers dance around your wet slit.
"Always fucking ready, babygirl?" Yunho smirked, watching your teeth graze against your bottom lip, before sliding his length through your slick.
"Ready whenever you are."
#illusionnet#atzhouse#cromernet#wonderlandnet#kvanity#other side outlaws network#ksmutsociety#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic#ateez smut#ateez stories#ateez yunho#jeong yunho#yunho smut#yunho x reader
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𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬
nonidol!kang yeosang x f!reader
yeosang doesn't remember your name, but he remembers what kissing you tastes like and how you like your eggs in the morning. just your regular prince charming trying to find his cinderella, or in this case, his passenger princess..?
9.5k (lord.....), nc-17, s2l, frateez au, college au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, kissing, humor, fluff, minimal angst, another cinderella story au/trope(?), drama (i bring i bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma), a girl who is not a girl's girl :l, the barest of proofreading
a/n: this is for the @atzhouse you can't outrage us event! guys if the flirting is lackluster, it's cuz im running out of rizz
“I don't believe you.”
The last place you expected to end up was in the front seat of some guy's white Lexus while the party raged on inside the ATZ fraternity house just down the street. According to him, he had to run out just before the crowd rolled in, and when he got back, somebody had snatched his parking spot.
“Okay, but why don't you believe me?”
The car smelled not like fresh leather, but an enchanting mixture of something like pine and smoked wood. Bitter, yet somehow, refreshing. You bet, even as the alcohol was hitting you, that it was what he smelled like.
His name was Yeosang—the guy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, the owner of this car, and the ATZ fraternity brother you bumped into at his house's own party. That had been just about twenty minutes ago when you'd ended up isolated from your pack of friends, and Yeosang had needed a desperate breather. It seemed he'd been running from someone (question mark), so you asked if he knew where the kitchen was. Eager to get away from whoever it was, he guided you straight to the kitchen and where the secret stash of flavored sojus were.
An offhand comment about wishing you didn't have to miss this one drama episode dropping tonight led to a longer conversation about the dramas you both enjoyed, which somehow landed you in his passenger seat.
The rest was history. Or—you supposed the rest was now.
“Because,” Yeosang said in a tone that sounded a lot like he was saying 'duh’, “you don't look like a biology major.”
He was gorgeous, even if the lighting in the party and out here was jack shit. The way the shadows cut across his face made him look like a faerie torn straight out of one of your old sketchbooks. You were half certain he had pointed ears beneath the cat-eared beanie he wore, but maybe that was just the alcohol doing its thing.
You sputtered out a laugh as he knocked back another gulp of his melon soju. He was more drunk than you were, maybe not by too much because that wouldn't have been fair, but it did take him seven tries to unlock his car seven minutes ago. “What's a bio major s'posed to look like?”
“Mmm…” he hummed, lips pressed together in a line that dug into his cheeks. “Not you.”
It only made you laugh harder. It wasn't even that funny. “That doesn't even make sense!”
“Does it have to make sense?” He squawked. His face shuddered for a moment as if he just experienced a glitch. “I forgot what I was gonna say, but it's the vibe.”
“The vibe,” you parroted in mild amusement. After you swallowed down your next gulp of soju, you gestured to him with the bottle, “Okay, now what about you? Your major, go.”
“I read shit.”
“Who doesn't?”
“Jared, 19,” he replied, dead serious.
Equally serious, you asked with wide eyes, “Really?”
He gave you an emphatic nod back. Really. Now, if you were a little less tipsy, you wouldn't have taken what he said at face value, but tonight was already miles away from your regularly scheduled program.
You pondered on that—the “I read shit,” not the misfortunes of one nineteen year old named Jared. “So if you read a lot of shit, does that make you a literature major? No, wait! I got it; you look like Comparative Lit.”
“Bingo,” he cheered, raising his bottle up into the air. “Wait. What do you mean I look like a comparative lit major? What does a comp lit major even look like?”
“I dunno, but it’s you.”
He pursed his lips into a deadpan at your callback to what he'd said before, and you merely stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult you were. “Touché, my friend. Touché…”
Silence passed between you two for the first time since you met each other. In the distance, you could hear the muffled sounds of the party raging on. It wasn't that you didn't go to parties often; it was more so that you usually went to house parties hosted by friends or friends-of-a-friend. Making it all the way to Greek Row was not something you did every weekend, but a mutual friend—Chungha—knew the ATZ president and got you and your friends in.
Nearly finished with his third bottle (or was it his fourth?...), Yeosang knocked the remainder down his throat with a grimace. With the empty bottle, he set it at his feet on the car floor to join another—the cup holders were already occupied with yours and his second rounds. The first was abandoned on the frat house lawn somewhere.
“I think—” he slurred, blinking slowly at you like a cat, “—that you look like an artist.”
“An artist?” You parroted dumbly and felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “And why would you say that? Vibes?”
“Well, yes!”
You sputtered out a laugh at the way he said that. “Then yes, I am an artist,” you said, emphasizing the latter half of the word so it sounded like “teest” and not “tist.”
Yeosang gave a hoot. “I'm so good at this. Does that—does that mean you can paint me like one of your French girls?” He pulled his lips into an adorable, little smile, the back of his hand poised beneath his chin as he fluttered his lashes.
“I don't think I could do you justice,” you admitted. There was a rather annoying buzz at the back of your brain that was distracting you. With a shake of your head, you refocused your gaze on him. “You're too pretty.”
He preened at the compliment, unconsciously reaching up to adjust his beanie. “Like calls to like then.”
“What does that mean?” Your buzzed-out brain couldn't compute—
“It means that prettiness is attracted to prettiness, and I'm attracted to you.”
You whined, burying your face in your hands. Yeosang giggled to himself, incredibly proud at making you flustered, his knees curling upward to kick his feet in the cramped space. “I don't like you.”
“You don't?”
“No,” you raised your head up with a displeased frown, only to see that his eyes seemed to be twinkling with unrestrained happiness and something else. You weren't in the right state to hyper-analyze the way he looked at you, but it made your heart skip more than just a beat. “It's not fair that you're a literature major.”
“But I'm drunk,” he said innocently.
“That's even worse!”
He grinned boyishly at you, bashfully stretching his limbs and then cupping the back of his neck with a hand. “What if I told you I'm minoring in math?”
You deadpanned. “I don't think that makes me feel any better. You rule both the realms of words and numbers.”
“It doesn't mean I'm good at math,” he guffawed, leaning back in his seat. “It's only there 'cause my mom's a math teacher, and having a math minor makes my parents feel better.”
That sounded familiar… awfully familiar. The thought made you sober a bit, and it seemed your counterpart wasn't so wasted that he didn't notice the shift either.
“Uh oh,” he chuckled nervously, “what'd I say?”
You waved your hand around dismissively. “Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of the opposite—my bio major is sort of to appease my parents and the fine art minor is for my sanity.”
He pressed his lips into a line, nodding in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he drawled. “So you don't… you're not happy? With what you're doing, I mean.”
Maybe it was the way he asked it, but it made the cogs in your head turn. You bit your lip. “I'm happy-ish. It's kind of a lot, but I'll survive.”
“'m sorry I upset you,” he pouted. “But,” he stammered, swallowing, “but I get it. My parents never wanna talk about my major anymore. Pretty sure they're just bitter and disappointed. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them.”
You could tell that it affected him more than he wanted to admit. You wordlessly passed him your half-drunk bottle, and he gladly took a generous sip. When it was back in your hands, you guzzled down the remainder.
The buzz was getting better.
“Well, if they're not proud of you, I am,” you declared, setting the empty bottle at your feet. Your eyes blinked slowly for a moment as you got your bearings again. Maybe… maybe you should stop drinking! Yes, that would be the smart thing to do.
Yeosang hummed. “Thanks,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed over at you from his side of the car. “I'm proud of you, too. You'll be happy one day; it'll always turn out okay, Yn-ie.”
Something warm and fuzzy settled in your chest, like a cat had just curled up there, purring and content.
A thought suddenly popped into your head. “Yeosang, how do you like your eggs?”
He snorted and burst into laughter, coaxing a similar expression out of you. A moment later, you were trying your best to pout at him, “Hey! Don't laugh! I hear it's all the rage on the pick-up line scene.”
“You're trying to pick me up?” He giggled. All memories of the previous topic flew out the car window.
“Well, is it working?”
He licked his lips around a smile, leaning over the center console to rest his cheek against his fist. “Ask me again.”
You took another sip of your soju before returning it to its cupholder. “Okay. Yeosang, how do you like your eggs in the morning?”
“However you'd like them.”
You deadpanned, and that only made him laugh louder. His head tilted back so you caught a glimpse of his canines, before he brought himself back down to Earth. His cheeks looked as flushed as you felt—even in the dim streetlight you could make out the blooms of peony pink across his cheekbones. “Yeo.”
He reached over to pat your head a couple times, though the sloppiness of his movements made it feel closer to two affectionate smacks. “Okay okay. Sorry. How about we say it at the same time?”
“Okay.” That wasn't a bad compromise.
“Okay, one, two, three—”
“Sunny-side up,” you both said at once.
Your eyes and his eyes widened at once, gasps of delight sounding into the quiet car. Could this guy be any more perfect?
“You're not bluffing?” You asked with narrowed eyes.
Yeosang shook his head vigorously. “Mm-mm. I wouldn't lie to you, Yn-ie. Scout's honor,” he slurred, holding his hand up as if he was a boy scout.
You giggled at the gesture, and he broke form to melt into an ooey gooey puddle of liquefied butterflies. For a moment, he just stared at you with a strange look on his face, one that you couldn't quite place when you were in this inebriated state.
You chuckled, shifting your position when one leg started falling asleep. “What’s wr—?”
He leaned forward and—oh. Oh. Those were—his lips were on yours. He had leaned over the console and kissed you. He was kissing you.
And when you didn't kiss him back, he drew backwards, an embarrassed expression painted over the adorable flush on his cheeks. “That—I shouldn't have done that, should I? I'm sorry; I dunno what I was—”
You crushed your mouth against his this time, effectively stealing the apology right off his tongue. He tasted like melon soju, and his touch was gentle as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, cradle your jaw. He was tracing the outline of your features in the dark like he could sketch them in the lines in his mind.
He tasted like the color of amber, warm and bright, but not blindingly so. He was mellow and sweet, with the undertones of the burnt wood in his cologne.
You melded your lips against his mouth like you could engrave him into you, and you were practically half over the middle console already. Yeosang's free hand fumbled backward to find the button on the side of his chair—there. The chair began moving backward with a monotonous brrr sound, and as it moved you couldn't quite keep your lips physically attached to his.
You disconnected from him for what felt like an eternity in order to climb over—shoes knocking against empty soju bottles, ass nearly bumping the horn—and with some clumsy, awkward maneuvering, you were on him again, this time quite literally. You tumbled into his lap, his hands landing on either side of your waist and your hands bracing against the back of his chair.
He loosened a soft groan with the return of your lips to his, and he hauled you down closer to him, until your chests were pressed flush against one another and you couldn't tell which heartbeat was who's. His beanie fell off at some point, but your fingers buried themselves within the dark, silken mass of his hair, a hat in their own right.
When you both pulled away for breath, your chests heaved in tandem to catch it. You settled your cheek against his shoulder while you inhaled the smell of his cologne, much stronger now that you sat against his chest with your nose by his throat. His hand warmed the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your head in an affectionate cradle.
“I don't think I've ever kissed someone like that,” you admitted into the quiet. You suddenly couldn't hear the muffled music blasting from the party in the background anymore.
“Me neither,” he replied, voice hoarse from the kiss. “I've never met someone like you before.”
“Never in your life?”
“Never in my life.”
“So let me get this straight,” drawled Wooyoung with both hands poised at his temples, eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light coming in through the window. There were currently eight people crowded onto President Hongjoong's bed at a time that was far too early to be alive for a group of people who partied until four in the morning. “You're saying that you know this girl's family life, how she likes her eggs in the morning, and how she kisses—but you don't even know her name?”
Yeosang was propped up against the headboard, squeezed between a very unfairly serene-looking Seonghwa and a mildly hungover Hongjoong. Yeosang's bangs were flat against his forehead and he squinted his tired eyes through the strands. “No, that's not what I said. I said that I know her name… it's just not coming to me right now.”
He knew your name. Right? You told him your name, right? He addressed you by your name at least once last night, right?
(If he was being honest, as soon as Yeosang woke up this morning, he started whimsically recalling the events of last night in his head. But once he realized he neither had your number nor remembered your name, he jostled his friends up to invade the president's room for an emergency round table discussion. Who would have guessed their alarm clock would be a very panicked Maltese screaming, “I DON'T REMEMBER HER NAME!”)
“Which pretty much means you don't know her name,” Jongho piped up where he was laying against Yunho's back on the corner of the bed, his eyes closed while he attempted to squeeze in five more milliseconds of sleep.
“Well, do you know who she came with?” San asked. “She probably has at least one mutual friend or else she wouldn't have gotten in.”
Mingi furrowed his brows together. “Not necessarily. The pledges might not have been thorough when checking.”
Hongjoong's eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be there with them at the door, Mingi.”
“Oh, was I?”
Yunho cut in before Hongjoong could tackle Mingi off the bed. He grinned to himself, “Okay, but San has a point. Usually people are only able to sneak in if they're with a group.”
“Awh,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching over to pinch at Yeosang's cheek, “Yeosangie fell in love with a stowaway—ow! Hey! He just bit me!”
“Deserved,” Seonghwa said plainly. He turned his head so as to not have to face Wooyoung's wounded puppy eyes. It was too early for this. “Do you know if she came with anyone, Yeosang-ah?”
Yeosang scrunched his nose up, disgruntled. “No. I'm pretty sure she was looking for her friends when we met… something like that. I remember some things, but not everything.” He pinched the place between his brows in an attempt to piece together his memory of last night. He could remember the way you made him feel—it was the jittery warmth that came with falling, and his heart had never grown wings before like it had around you.
After the kiss, the two of you had sunk into a comfortable, quiet conversation about anything and everything beneath the sun. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable and heard by someone other than his fraternity brothers. You were perfect, for lack of a better word. And he knew a lot of words.
But how could he fucking forget your name?
He was never drinking that much melon soju ever again.
“She's a biology major,” he offered with a defeated sigh, letting his hand fall into his lap.
“What does she look like?” Hongjoong asked.
Yeosang's gaze went up to the ceiling as he recalled what you looked like to his friends. It was pretty dark the entire time he was with you, but there were a few moments when the streetlights hit your face and his conscience was constantly trying to keep his drunk ass from kissing you within the first ten minutes of meeting you. He'd managed to hold it together for a little bit longer before throwing all caution to the wind.
When he was done, San said in light amusement, “I'm just surprised you kissed her first. She must be something then, huh?”
Yeosang couldn't conceal the smile that slowly crept onto his face. “Yeah, she's…” He cleared his throat. “I just don't want last night to be the first and last time I see her.” It couldn't be—just when he thought he clicked with someone, the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to rip you away from him, could it?
“Don't you worry!” Mingi chirped, “We'll help you find your passenger princess.”
Seonghwa snorted. “Passenger princess? What is this, Cinderella?”
“It might as well be,” San chuckled, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Operation: Passenger Princess is a go!”
Yeosang wasn't sure if recruiting his friends’ help was a good or awful decision. But because his past, drunk self hadn't done many favors for his future, sober self, he would take all the help he could get.
You knew the moment you stumbled out of your bedroom and saw your roommate that you were in trouble. It wasn't trouble in the conventional sense; considering her eyes were laughing as she watched your pitiful walk of shame from your room to the shared bathroom, you knew you were not going to hear the end of everything that happened last night ever.
“Not a word,” you said to her as you winced at the blinding bathroom lights.
Her toothbrush hung out of her mouth as she slipped in behind you to spit her toothpaste into the sink. When her mouth was rinsed and clear, she made eye contact with you in the mirror, eyebrows wagging up and down. “So you and Yeosang, huh?”
You glared at her from around your own toothbrush. You would have taken the damn thing out to defend yourself, but you were already late.
Reina took full advantage of your occupied vocal chords. “I never knew pretty frat boys were your type, Yn,” she teased, practically floating out of the bathroom to go check on the state of her espresso in the kitchen.
“Aye hae yuu,” you grumbled around your toothbrush.
“What's that?” She cackled, bringing a hand up to the shell of her ear. “I love you? I love you, too, Yn. But you know who else loves you?—”
“Dompt shae it.”
“Yeosaaaang!”
You loathed the fact that her saying such things made butterflies flap their wings and dance around in your belly. It was simply delusional to think of love when all you and Yeosang did last night was make out in his car and accompany each other in deep, provoking conversation… conversation that definitely didn't make you feel incredibly seen or anything… definitely not.
Finally, you were able to spit your toothpaste out to make your argument. “Okay, first of all, I don't even have his number. And—how could he love me?” As if possession of a phone number could even correlate to love either.
Reina paused, her expression arranging into loud incredulity. “You what? After all I went through to separate the two of you to go home, you didn't exchange numbers?”
Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have disclosed that information—now you just looked stupid.
You lathered up facial cleanser in your hands and on your face. “Look. Exchanging numbers was just the last thing on our minds—” Oh, Yn. Have you ever said something smart?
Reina snorted. “Oh, I know.”
“We didn't just make out,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming beneath your hands. You furiously splashed cool water over your skin before patting your face dry. There likely wasn't much time left before you and Reina had to run to meet your other friends at your weekly volunteering session. “We talked.”
“Uh-huh, and you know that denial is a river in Egypt, right?”
Suffice to say that Reina most definitely did not let your shenanigans from last night go. The two of you managed to reach the food bank sometime before fifteen minutes past your original start time. Everyone else was already stationed and on time, and because you and Reina were the last to arrive, you were sent straight to dishwashing.
As you and Reina pulled on your twin pairs of pink rubber gloves, your friend Mark Lee (and brother with the NCT fraternity) barrelled into the backroom with a dirty ladle in his hands. His head perked up at the sight of you both, a smile blooming on his face. “Well, good morning, Party Animals. How was the ATZ party last night?”
He deposited the ladle into the sink for you to wash while he went to go find a clean one.
“It was cool, but I think Yn would love to tell you all about her experience,” Reina teased, bumping her elbow against your side.
Mark sidled up beside the two of you and leaned in close in proper tea-spilling fashion. “Oh my gosh, did something happen?”
You scowled at Reina, then said to Mark, “Nothing catastrophic—”
“She hooked up with Yeosang!”
You cut her a hard glance. “Reina, I don't think Neptune heard you.”
Mark's eyes went comically wide, jaw slackening. “Yn and Yeosang? That's so wild. Like—like Kang Yeosang?”
“I think? We didn't exactly exchange last names, but why would it be wild? We just kissed and talked.”
“Who kissed who now?” The new voice had you all glancing back over to the kitchen door where another member of the group, Yura, walked in. Yura was Reina's cousin, and the two grew up quite close, so it was natural that they ended up in similar social circles. You and all your other friends got along pleasantly with her. She flashed you all a small smile. “From the sounds of it, I'm guessing you guys had a fun time at the party last night?”
“We did!” Reina chirped.
“Shame you couldn't come with us this time,” you said offhandedly. It wasn't like Yura to miss a party.
Reina cocked her head to the side. “I could've sworn I saw you there though—”
“Ah,” Yura waved her hand to dismiss her cousin's thought. She chuckled, “You're probably mistaking someone else as me; I had that paper I needed to work on last night, remember? But Yn, you and Yeosang?”
You groaned. “I thought we were over this.”
“Dude, we can't not get over this,” Mark quipped back. “Yeosang just doesn't do stuff like that—hook up with people, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Yura chimed in, “I've seen him at a couple other Greek parties with some of my sorority friends and he looks pretty standoffish most of the time. He's usually always with one of his brothers. He's kind of cold, really.”
Mark furrowed his brows. “I wouldn't call him cold; he's just a little shy, is all.”
“My friends told me that a lot of sorority girls chase after him,” Yura said with wide eyes. “They get, like, aggressive about him or something.”
You and Reina exchanged a look. Was that who he was running from last night? “That must be kinda stressful,” you said softly with a small frown.
“Apparently, that's why his social medias don't take DMs unless approved,” she shrugged.
Well, there went your backup plan of finding him on social media. Then again, if he recognized you or your name, would that help if you requested him? That was if you deigned to change your profile picture to yourself and not one of your silly doodles.
You couldn't help the weight that your heart seemed to gain as it sank to the pit of your stomach.
“Well, that's mildly disappointing,” Reina muttered, turning to quickly wash the ladle Mark had just dropped off.
“I just wouldn't want you to get targeted by any of those crazy sorority girls, y'know?” Yura gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves.
You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, no, I—I get it. Thanks, Yura.”
She gave you a sympathetic look. “Of course,” she said. With a wave, she made her way back toward the kitchen door. “Mark, we better get back to work. See you guys at lunch break!”
When she was gone, Mark clapped a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen. I don't really know the guy personally, but me and Wooyoung are pretty tight. I can get in touch with them if you want—”
Baekhyun, the section leader for your session, charged into the kitchen with his arm piled high with dirty dishes. If you didn’t fear for the safety of the porcelain bowl at the top of the stack, you might have chuckled at the scene before you. “Mark! We don't pay you to stand around.”
“Hyung,” Mark huffed exasperatedly as he rushed over to help Baekhyun before the section leader could get knocked over the head by a rogue dish assisted by gravity. “You don't pay us. We're here out of the goodness of our hearts.”
“Well, I don't get paid enough for this,” Baekhyun said once all the dishes were transferred to the sink, and you and Reina were put to work. “Now come on; lots to do!”
Just as Mark was about to follow after Baekhyun, he caught your eyes. “I'm serious about the offer, Yn.”
You smiled. “Thanks, man, but let me think about it and I'll get back to you.”
“Yeah, just lemme know!” And he was gone.
Word broke out that someone in the ATZ household was searching for a girl. Word of mouth was a method of dissemination that could spread like wildfire, leaping from one tongue to one ear to another, leaving only ash and debris behind. And around Greek Row, it became a massive game of Telephone.
But while nearly everyone in the university's fraternities and sororities knew about his strife, Yeosang’s efforts seemed to be for naught. The only thing that emerged from this were more people harping after him, claiming to be 'the one he was looking for.’ None of them were you.
Your name had manifested itself in his head about halfway into the week. He'd been toiling over the theory readings his professor assigned for Thursday's lecture when he'd underlined a word, and it came crashing down upon him with ice cold clarity.
His eyes went wide as he shot up out of his chair, nearly sending Jongho careening off his bed on the other side of the room. “What the—”
“Yn,” Yeosang said. Then he declared a little louder, a giddy smile on his face, triumphant and bright, “Her name is Yn.”
Jongho resettled himself on top of his bed. “Well that narrows things down for us,” he drawled, taking his phone out and typing something out. “I don't suppose you have her last name.”
Yeosang fwumped onto the edge of his bed with his lips pressed into a line. “Dude. I literally just thought of her first name. Do you really think I can come up with—”
“Okay, okay,” Jongho laughed, flicking his wrist at him for a moment before resuming his typing.
“Who're you texting?” Yeosang asked as curiosity drew him across the room to Jongho's side.
His friend sat up so he could peer over his shoulder at the phone screen. “I'm doing the heavy lifting,” he teased. Based on the social media handle at the top of the direct messages channel, Jongho was texting Chungha, a friend of the frat's but a closer friend of President Hongjoong's, and the recently graduated head of the Phi Omega Phi sorority. “Hongjoong hyung mentioned offhandedly that Chungha wanted to get some friends into the party on Friday, so I'm seeing if she recognizes this Yn person you're looking for.”
Yeosang’s eyebrows flicked upward as he settled into a more comfortable position on Jongho’s bed while they awaited Chungha’s response. In the meantime, he pulled out his own phone in an attempt to search for your name amongst his mutuals. He frowned at the lack of a successful search—did you use a different name or did you not have a social media account? Was that why you hadn’t attempted to contact him in the past few days?
For a moment, a shard of self-consciousness pierced through his chest at the prospect that you didn’t want to contact him. Did sobriety make you embarrassed at what happened that night? Had he made you uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability that was in the car—no, the vulnerability was mutual… but maybe—
“Gotcha.”
Yeosang’s head whipped back over to Jongho’s screen. Having your name and major seemed to ring a bell for Chungha, and she forwarded a social media handle, along with a “tell Yeosang good luck ;)”.
“Thank you, Jongho. And bless up, Chungha,” Yeosang muttered as he swiftly input the social media handle into his search bar. There it was—a private art account with your first name in the biography line. There were only one or two people who you both shared mutuals with, which made sense.
His thumb hovered over the request button, and he bit his lip. With little else left to do and his heart banging around in his ribs from the anticipation alone, he clicked the button.
It didn’t take you incredibly long to accept his follow request and to follow him back. (Though, half an hour felt like an eternity when he was so anxious.) He made it painfully obvious that you acted in response, because Yeosang fumbled his phone between his palms like it was a hot potato, before he dropped it and stubbed his toe with it.
Jongho sent him a strange look as he handed the device back to a red-faced Yeosang, who furrowed his brows together to think of an opening direct message to you.
“It doesn't have to be perfect,” Jongho said as he peered over Yeosang's shoulder this time. He had even paused the game he was playing on his phone to stay tuned into the live entertainment.
Yeosang made a face. “Yes, it does.” It had to be the perfect mix of witty and funny and subtle and—
He figured it out.
@/yskang99: how do u like ur eggs?
Jongho released a sound of utter flabbergast, and Yeosang shushed him, both pairs of eyes pinned to the three dots that appeared on the bottom left-hand side of the screen.
@/studioyn: sunny side up
Yeosang broke into a smile, and Jongho's face contorted into pure incredulity. “What kind of security question is that?”
“Inside joke,” Yeosang replied giddily, rising from Jongho's bed to cross over to his side of the room. He collapsed into his desk chair and propped his feet up along the end of his bed.
Jongho scoffed, shifting his lounging position. He threw his friend another incredulous glance before giving up and returning to his game. He'd done his job.
@/yskang99: congrats u passed the test!
@/studioyn: ahh so that was a test? i imagined us doing a virtual handshake tbh
@/yskang99: i like that better actually
@/studioyn: also how did u find me lmao
Yeosang bit his lip through a grin. I have my ways, he typed out cryptically, cheekily.
@/studioyn: wtvr u say ig… 🤨🤨🤨
For a brief moment, Yeosang wondered if he should bring up the concern lingering in his mind—why you hadn't reached out to him. He didn't want to simply assume that he was “popular” enough that just anybody knew who he was, but he was also aware that most people were able to track him down on social media. But would that kill the vibe? He liked the energy.
@/studioyn: i can't get a read on whether or not ur any different than how u were drunk
@/yskang99: would that matter?
@/studioyn: not particularly, no, but i've met people who r
@/yskang99: no i get that, i've met my fair share too :/
He began typing out slowly: I missed you… Then he swiftly amended it to: I missed talking to you.
@/studioyn: awhh wait ik we've only technically spoken the one time, but i missed talking to u too yeo :’)
A smile split his face from ear to ear. Would you wanna hang out again? Only if you're comfortable, of course.
He watched the three dots appear, then disappear. You were thinking and his heart was sinking.
Finally, your response came in. I'd love to, but I don't wanna disappoint you with my god awful schedule this next week.
@/yskang99: what abt the weekend? something low stakes maybe?
@/yskang99: my brothers and i r going to the nct house on sat
@/studioyn: oh!! im actually close friends w mark lee :] i'll see if i can drag my friends along, and we can link up there?
The thought of seeing you again, even if it was at another dumb Greek party, made electricity zip through his veins. His stomach filled to the brim with butterflies, and he had to shift his position because of how much it tickled.
@/yskang99: yeah sounds great :D i'll look forward to seeing u
@/studioyn: same here yeo :’))
@/studioyn: how's ur week been so far?
Yeosang leaned back in his chair again, propping his elbows on the armrests to sink into a comfortable position. He had a feeling he might be here awhile, but he would sit here all night if it meant talking to you.
“Yn! We're gonna be late!”
You nearly jolted at the sound of Reina's voice carrying through the other side of your bedroom door. You dropped your phone onto your bed, racing to finish up the rest of your makeup. “You can never be late to a Greek party!” You countered, swiping your thumb over the pigment you just put on your lips.
Your bedroom door opened just as you were slipping a chain necklace around your collar. Reina poked her head in, her eyes looking you up and down. “Ooh-la-la,” she gushed with a teasing smile. “Someone's gotten all dolled up. I wonder who for…”
You rolled your eyes and ignored the obvious warmth rising to your face. “I just felt like it,” you defended weakly while spritzing a light mist of perfume over your neck and wrists. You stood up from your desk to collect your wallet, keys, and lip gloss to dump into a purse, then went over to retrieve your phone.
The screen displayed another message from Yeosang, no doubt continuing the conversation you had to abruptly pause because you would be late for the NCT party. This was going to be the second Greek party in two weeks—a record for your books. But you had a feeling it was going to be a good time like last week, you were sure of it.
As you skimmed the message Yeosang sent, you slipped out of the room to join Reina in the main living space. She casted you a pointed look with arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed together.
“What?” You blinked over at her innocently.
“You're never gonna see your boy at this rate,” she said as the two of you picked out your shoes for the night.
You sent a text answering Yeosang and letting him know you would be at the party soon. “He's not 'my boy,’” you said.
“Right. He's your man.”
You hated how hard it was to keep the giggle in your throat down. It was embarrassing how you smiled just then, too, turning your head away from a smug Reina.
God, he was just a guy; how did you get so head-over-heels after just one night? It had to be the fact that you'd been texting him nonstop over the past few days. Though you were busy and exhausted, you continued to check your phone all throughout the days and stayed up long into the nights just to talk to him. He had you hook, line, and sinker.
At some point, you'd forgotten what Yura warned you about on Saturday.
Your friends picked you and Reina up in one of their family minivans. A round of greetings went up as you clambered in behind Reina, and your friend asked where her cousin was tonight if she wasn't carpooling with the rest of you.
“She said she was at her sorority friend's house,” Sieun said offhandedly from the driver's seat. The minivan door closed on its own with a mechanical whirring sound. “She's probably at the party already.”
Some nights, parties called for a pregame session, while others (not unlike this one) was attacked raw. Sieun parked the minivan about a block outside of Greek row where there were spaces between cars along the curbs and where there was less of a chance of her accidentally running over a drunk partygoer stumbling into the street. The party was already in full swing with neon green strobe lights blazing aggressively through the front windows, and Gasolina blasting at nothing less than one hundred percent speaker volume.
You felt your phone vibrate in your hand as Reina grabbed your hand to avoid instantly losing you in the crowd.
@/yskang99: im on the second floor where there's less people 😋😋 they've got a nice balcony we can hide on!!
“Mark said they've got spiked Capri Sun somewhere in here!” Reina shouted into your ear.
You nodded your head vigorously. “Let's find it then!”
@/studioyn: gonna grab hard caprisun and then head up!! do u want some??
@/yskang99: surprise me w a flavor, pretty pls x
You grinned to yourself and slid your phone into your purse to focus on the task at hand.
The NCT fraternity house wasn't a completely unknown landscape to you and Reina. Being friends with one of its brothers and friends-by-association with all the rest, you'd popped by more than a few times. You could likely navigate this house with your eyes closed; that was what it was like weaving through the dark rooms and throngs of people squeezed together like sardines in a can, anyway.
Along yours and Reina's trek to the kitchen, you gained a couple people in your conga line of linked hands, NCT's own Xiaojun and Jungwoo. NCT frat brothers always pregamed, so the two brothers were already tipsy and giggled about your kindergarten field trip line (with Reina being dubbed the poor kindergarten teacher tasked with keeping you together).
When you arrived at your destination, it didn't take long for you to lose both Xiaojun and Jungwoo to the game of Texas Hold 'Em being played at the breakfast table. The singular lightbulb overheard made it feel like a smoke-filled backdoor gambling den.
“Aha!” You cheered after playing a game of mystery cooler roulette, and opened the cooler lid that held the spiked Capri Sun juice pouches on ice.
“Mine!” Reina snatched up the last cherry flavored one, the shiny aluminum slippery and ice-cold as she impaled the opening with the thin, yellow straw.
You grabbed a Pacific Cooler flavored pouch for yourself, and a second for Yeosang.
“Ah, is that for the man of your dreams?” Reina said between sips, her pouch already half empty.
You sent her a look. “He has good taste, which means he'll probably appreciate Pacific Cooler as much as I do.”
“As long as it's not lemonade,” came a voice to your left. There stood a rather tall and lean man, his warm smile enunciated by the dim kitchen lighting as the green strobe lights from the living room painted across his face. “I can't deal with sour shit,” he explained, making a face.
You laughed. “That's valid. Fruit Punch is a classic though.”
“Can't argue with that,” he replied, leaning down to pick his poison for the night. He stabbed a straw into his pouch of strawberry kiwi juice, then arched an eyebrow at you. “I feel like I know you. Do I know you?”
“Hey,” Reina chimed in as she leaned over your shoulder, “you're with the ATZ frat, aren't you? I recognize you from Twister last week.”
He smiled sheepishly from around his straw. “Ah… haha, not my best moment, but yes. I'm Yunho.”
“Reina,” your friend replied.
“Yn,” you added on.
Yunho's expression jerked as if he'd just been delivered an electric shock. He waved his pointer finger at you. “Oh my god, you're Yeosang's girl!”
Your eyes shuddered in surprise. Yeosang's girl. “Sorry?” You stammered. There was an insane amount of possessive pronouns being used tonight, buy you definitely weren't complaining about it, and could he perhaps say that again—
“Yeah, he won't shut up about you.” Yunho slurped up the rest of his juice pouch, draining and flattening the life out of it in record time. “He loves Pacific Cooler, by the way.”
He took his leave then, saying nothing else to you and Reina except for shooting you a pair of finger guns like saying 'go get em, tiger!’
Reina wheezed, draping herself over you for a moment. “Oh—my god! Good thing Yeosang's just as down in the trenches as you are.”
“Don't do this to me, Reina,” you whined and dragged her along out of the kitchen toward the second floor staircase. “I don't need encouragement; the crush is enough!”
“It's never enough,” she declared with her pointer finger up in the sky. “You are gone, my friend! Gone, I say.”
You patted her head as you both began your ascent up the stairs. “Alrighty; then gone, I am. Do you remember where the balcony is on this floor?”
She hummed. “Ooh! Somewhere by Johnjae's room, abouts. I just remember because Mark told us how—”
“Right—the sophomore year Romeo and Juliet reenactment,” you snorted. You couldn't wrap your head around the batshit crazy things that occurred around these parts. “Who convinced Doyoung to play Paris anyway?”
She made a noncommittal noise. “Must've been bribed—oh, there it is, but I think there's a couple out there already…”
There was most definitely a couple on the balcony. Their outlines were silhouettes against the residual strobe lights shining up from downstairs, so it was a little too dark to make out who they were. They seemed close—the girl was all over the boy, the latter trying to hold her up by her waist. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, and for a moment, you were glad someone was taking care of her.
But when she leaned in for a kiss, green light glanced across their faces to reveal their features to you. It was only a split second, but it was all you needed.
“Reina,” you exhaled in shock, turning away from the balcony with enough speed to nearly give you whiplash.
She didn't question you, as you both careened back down the hall from where you came from, heading for one of the open bedrooms on this floor to collect yourselves. When the two of you were out of earshot of the balcony, she hissed under her breath in utter disbelief, “Yura?”
You'd seen it nearly clear as day, too. That was Yura kissing Yeosang.
Your head spun as you shouldered your way into Mark's and Haechan's room, their names plastered on the door in foam letter stickers from the craft store. As Reina closed the door and turned on the lights, you sat down in Mark's desk chair attempting to make sense of what you and Reina just witnessed.
Yeosang and Yura? But wasn't Yura the one who warned you that chasing after Yeosang was a risk because of how many others were, as well? Why would…
Oh.
Well, now you just felt stupid.
Reina dragged over Haechan's desk chair to settle in front of you, her expression less enraged than before, and more concerned over what she was reading off of your face. “Hey, don't do that. Don't think like that.”
“You don't know what I'm thinking,” you murmured, setting the untouched juice pouches on the desk.
“You're thinking that you're stupid.”
“Okay, maybe you do know what I'm thinking.” You inhaled, then exhaled slowly, leaning forward onto your knees. “I don't really know what to think or assume.”
Reina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “That's okay. I don't think I really understand what I saw either.”
“But that was Yura, right?”
She bobbed her head again. “That was my cousin, yeah.”
“Would it be fair to even think that she told me all that shit last week to discourage me from seeing him?” You didn't enjoy thinking that another person would have such malicious intentions without understanding their point of view, especially someone you considered yourself friends with.
“Well,” Reina drawled, “I think we both saw what we saw, and Yura was acting strangely about it on Saturday. It would be fair if you were hurt by it; I think your feelings have been clear.”
You gave a small nod. “Do you think he…?”
“I'm not sure, hon.”
You resolved to talk to him about it. If anything, you had these juice pouches left to console yourself, but you wanted to make sure you knew where his feelings laid. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't harbor even a glimmer of hope that this was all a misunderstanding, and that the kiss was an accident and didn't matter.
You and Reina left the relative safety of Mark and Haechan's bedroom to go find Yeosang. There weren't any new messages between either of you since the Capri Sun exchange, and you thought about texting him on his whereabouts.
The balcony by Johnny and Jaehyun's room was empty now, barren of any evidence somebody was there in the first place.
You and Reina wandered back down to the main floor. The party was nowhere near over; the night was still young. Hope was sinking fast in your stomach as the two of you traveled from room to room in search of him, but with no luck. Even asking around was useless.
“Text him,” Reina encouraged, as the two of you sipped on the juice pouches that were supposed to be for you and him.
She held your spiked juice while you texted him.
As time passed, and a response had yet to come through, you tossed yours and Reina's flattened Capri Sun pouches into the nearest garbage can.
If he wasn't going to answer, then maybe you would just go home for the night. You had a lot to think about.
Defeated, you let Reina sweep you under her arm and guide you to the front door. “Let's go home, hm?” She said, rubbing your shoulder.
On your way to the front door, you paused. You thought you heard someone calling your name—
You turned around to find Mark barreling toward you through the crowd with another guy at his side. “Mark?” You shouted over the music.
“Hey, we've been looking all over for you,” he said. Nodding to his friend, he told you, “This is Wooyoung, by the way, the ATZ brother I'm friends with.”
“Yeosang's been looking for you,” Wooyoung said in earnest, eyes as wide as Mark's. Had they been looking for you as much as you were looking for Yeosang?
Something like hope sparked in your chest again—you were at odds. The fight had nearly dissipated from your blood and you were ready to go home. But if he was trying to find you… it must be worth it then, right?
“Where is he?” You asked.
It was nearing midnight by the time you settled yourself on the concrete curb outside the ATZ frat house just down the block from the target being thrown at the NCT house. With everyone over there, no wonder it was quiet enough to finally hear yourself think. With the coming of deep autumn, a slight breeze wafted by that drifted over your skin and raised goosebumps on your arms.
You heard gravel crunching from behind you, coming down the ATZ driveway, and before you could turn your head to look, a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. You held your breath, fingers finding the lapel to keep it from slipping as you glanced over at your counterpart.
Yeosang lowered himself onto the curb next to you, mimicking your position with his knees bent and arms resting upon them. “I—my phone died,” he said lowly.
“Oh.” That took care of at least two of your questions.
“Is there—” He stopped himself, amending his statement, “There's something on your mind.”
Understatement of the century. You pulled his jacket around you, the intertwining scents of alcohol and his cologne lingering on the collar. “I was going to meet you at the balcony, and I was there, but… but I saw you and Yura, and…”
It was his turn to say “oh.” He angled his body toward you now until his knees bumped against yours and he was muttering out an apology he didn't need to say. He laid his upper body over his arms that were folded onto his knees and peered up at you through lengthy lashes.
He was waiting for you to finish.
You swallowed, following his lead and turning your body toward him. “I saw her kiss you,” you said, the sound barely audible to anybody but you and him. “Reina and I went somewhere to kind of just soak in what we saw, and then we went back out to find you so I could talk to you about it, but we couldn't find you.”
“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed together. “It—it didn't mean anything. She did try to kiss me, but I pushed her away before she could.”
You believed him. You loosened a small chuckle from your lips. “Y'know, it sounds silly to me now, but last week she told me that there were a number of girls who were pursing you and were very aggressive about it.”
He snorted. “If there were any, I only know of one.”
“She…?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, lips pursing. “I know she's liked me for a while, but I've made it clear I don't see her the same way. At last Friday's party, I was actually trying to lose her in the crowd when I found you.”
Your eyes widened. “So she was there?” Then Reina had actually seen her cousin at the party; Yura had lied about where she was.
“She told me tonight that she was scared about me liking you more than her,” Yeosang said as he lifted his body back up to rest his cheek against his fist. “She was really drunk—which was why you probably saw me trying to hold her up—and then she… tried to kiss me. I pushed her away, and one of her friends found us, so I handed her over and went to get some air.”
And that was why you couldn't find him. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. “Are you—are you okay? I'm so sorry she did that to you.”
The corners of his lips tugged upward in a reassuring smile. “I'm alright, thank you. And it's not your fault.”
“I know, but still,” you insisted. “Your boundaries were violated, and it makes me feel so icky that I've called her a friend of mine, and—what?”
Your words came to a screeching halt when you realized that Yeosang was just smiling at you. Or rather, gazing at you, admiring you. It was whatever he did whenever his eyes possessed a set of twin jewels in his irises that needed no light to glitter like gold; and when his grin softened at the corners by a tenderness that knocked the wind out of you, all words and systems failed you.
You recognized this look, except this time, you weren't drunk.
“I'm really happy I met you,” he said in your silence. “And I'm happy I got to see you again.”
You nearly melted. You smiled back at him, replying quietly, “Couldn’t have said it any better. Thank you for being honest with me.”
“And thank you for believing me.” He reached for your hand, his movements slow as if giving you an opening to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't, and you closed the remaining space to link your fingers and press your palms together.
You and Yeosang shared mutual smiles in the dim lighting outside his fraternity house. Your heart beat had quickened a considerable amount now that he was so close to you again.
You cleared your throat. "Just to be clear though—when you said she was scared about you liking me more than her—?"
His smile reached his eyes and turned them into upturned crescent moons. "I'm not scared," he said, "that I like you more than I have ever liked her." By a landslide.
Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. "Good," you smiled. "That's good, because I like you a whole lot, too."
“Do you wanna get out of here?” Yeosang inclined his chin toward where his car was parked a couple vehicles down. “Properly this time, now that we're not completely wasted?”
You laughed. “I would love nothing more.”
Pleased, he helped you to your feet. You must have stood up far too quickly though, because the blood rushed up to your head in a riptide current. You swore as the vertigo hit you, and your footing stumbled.
“Woah, careful there, pretty,” he murmured, his low voice by your ear as he steadied you with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other around your waist.
Oh, there went your heart… it flew up to halo around Yeosang's head, and it wasn't yours anymore—
“You okay?” He mused.
You cleared your throat, straightening. “Yeah, I'm great,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head toward your chest.
A warm, fond chuckle left his mouth. “Cute,” he murmured. He lifted your chin up so you would look at him, his eyes darting down toward your mouth, and yours mirroring his movements. “I was wondering…”
“You can kiss me,” you blurted out, ignoring the utter leap in your pulse and the heat crawling up the back of your neck.
You tasted his smile as he leaned over to seal his mouth over your own, a long awaited return to the place that felt just right. You breathed him in, inhaled him, devoured him whole—you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer just as his hands pressed you flush against him.
In the distance against the heavy house music in the background, a cheer went up into the night sky.
You and Yeosang parted only to crane your heads in the direction of the noise, only to find what looked like a gathering of your friends and his friends hooting and applauding like it was New Years.
“OPERATION: PASSENGER PRINCESS WINS!” The guy from earlier, Wooyoung, practically howled up at the sky.
You pressed your face against Yeosang's shoulder as he groaned. “I am so sorry about them,” he chuckled through a grimace, lips grazing over your crown.
You laughed along with him. “My friends are also among the guilty party, Yeo.”
He kept his arm around your waist and you kept your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked away from your friends and toward his car. Contentment curled itself up over your chest again, and it nestled in deep, as if it planned to stay awhile.
“By the way,” you piped up as he unlocked his car.
“Mhm?”
You opened the passenger side door and leaned over the top of it to ask, “What the hell is Operation: Passenger Princess?”
Yeosang sputtered out a laugh and his cheekbones burned red. “How about we save that for our third date?”
You blinked, lips parting.
Yeosang grinned impishly. “Close that mouth, pretty, or I'll close it for you.”
Your jaw snapped closed, and his laugh echoed against the houses along this street. You climbed into the car after him, flustered beyond words. “I don't like you,” was all you could come up with.
“I'm sure you don't.”
a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed! also, the plan is to try and write another wooyo frat au as well, so pray for me...
atz m.list
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san & a situationship
alrighty folks, mr choi san my twin flame is up next on the press!! posting super close to yunho’s bc i hit 500 followers yesterday!! thank u guys so much <3 will post my event later this week so stay tuned! (suggestive, once again very stupid)
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Your Gentle Hands (Please Don't Ever Let Go Of Me Again). || Kim Hongjoong. [ Part 2 ]
Part 1 here.
Summary: meeting the local outcast shouldn't have ended with you slowly falling for him. yet you did, all while knowing you could never have this man, because you were already someones else's wife. two lovers, a dress shop, and a violent man between it all. we all know how this ends, right? ... right?
Pairing: dressmaker!kim hongjoong x fem. reader
Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive
Wordcount: 22.7k
Warnings: misogyny, mentions of (domestic) violence, injuries, wounds, scars, lots of tears and trauma, allusions to sex but cuts right before the actual act
A/N: all i have to say is... thank fucking god i finally finished it. i struggled so much, and though i still love it im also so sick of this fic haha. there are so many people i want to thank for listening to my rambling, brainstorming and constantly reassuring me: @ghstzzn, @skteezcursed, @xomakara and also to @pali-writes-atiny-bit who beta read the whole thing <33 please don't forget to reblog and like! divider credits as always to @firefly-graphics!
Available here on AO3.
“When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No … don’t blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But it is!”
Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières
The room around you was quiet, save for the distant ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. As a child, you'd hated this clock. Now, as an adult, you despised it.
Your hands rested in your lap, the delicate lace of the dress you loved so much pooling around you like the last remnants of a life that, albeit short, once felt full of promises. The world outside was moving on, the townsfolk bustling about with their daily tasks, their lives seemingly untouched by the darkness that has taken hold of your heart.
It was funny, hilarious even.
Because despite pretending not to, they all knew, bowed their heads in shame whenever you walked by.
Yet not a single soul had ever cared.
Not until a man was dead, and another one was jailed for his murder.
You leaned your forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching as the winter sun set over the distant hills, casting a golden glow on the town below. The streets were full of people rushing to finish their errands before nightfall, their faces etched with concern and urgency. None of them spared a glance in the direction of your family's old house, none of them knew the depth of your despair.
Or maybe they did. Maybe they just didn't care.
It wouldn't be the first time.
The sound of the door creaking open drew your attention, but you didn't turn to look. You knew who it was. Your mother had a way of entering a room that felt like an invasion, like an unwelcome breeze slipping through a crack in the window.
“You’re still wearing that costume,” she said, voice low and disapproving. “That man. Hongjoong. You shouldn't-”
“Shouldn't what, Mother? Mourn the only person who ever truly cared for me?”
You kept your forehead pressed against the glass, your breath fogging up a small circle. The lace of your dress felt heavy now, like a shroud. Once, you had worn it with pride. It had been a gift from Hongjoong, back when his friendship, care and love felt like a lifeline. Back when you were still able to see him, touch him, kiss him-
“Why do you still have it on?” she continued, stepping further into the room. Her footsteps were slow, deliberate. “It's time to let go of the past.”
You finally turned to face her, your eyes cold. The sight of her stirred a boiling rage within you, a fury that had been simmering for too long. She looked at you with the same passive face she always had, the face of a woman who turned away from the truths she didn't want to see.
“You let him do this to me,” you said, your voice trembling with restrained anger. “You saw the bruises. You heard the screams. And you did nothing.”
She flinched, just slightly, but quickly regained her composure, fidgeting with her hands. You two had that habit in common. “I did what I thought was best. It was a different time-”
“Different time?” you interrupted, standing up. The lace dress flowed around you, the wind making it flare up. “You watched your daughter suffer, and you did nothing. That's not the past. That's just who you are.”
Your mother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but you felt no pity for her. Not anymore. The betrayal was too deep, the wounds too fresh.
“E-everything's changed now,” she said softly. “He's gone. You’re free.”
“Free?!” you echoed, laughing bitterly. “Free to live in this prison of horrible memories? Free to be haunted by the faces of all the people who turned away? Free to watch the man I love be behind bars for a crime I committed?”
Silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed so, so much louder now.
“You need to let go,” she whispered, a plea hidden in her tone.
“And you need to face what you did,” you replied, your voice cold and unwavering. “Or, well, didn't do.”
With that, you turned back to the window, shutting her out once more. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the hills, casting long shadows across the town.
You wouldn't stay here much longer. You had a plan, and soon, it would be time to carry it out.
But before that, you had to see your entire family again. And tonight, while celebrating another successful harvest season was the perfect opportunity. Even though the bond you once shared was inevitably broken, they were your family, your people, whom you once loved and shared many memories with.
One last time, you wanted to look them right in the eye.
Because afterwards, you vowed to never speak to them again.
“Miyeon isn't coming today?” you asked as you and your eldest sister set the table. Unfortunately for you, you had to take off Hongjoong’s dress for real this time. To keep the peace, your mother insisted.
“She's with child, Y/N. She can't travel that far. Unlike some of us, she actually fulfills her wifely duties”, she remarked snarky, her voice cold and arrogant.
You didn't take her usual bait. “What a shame. May she and her unborn be healthy,” you whispered. You were being honest; you truly wanted that. Your middle sister was a good human, and you knew if she and her husband Gikwang wouldn't be away so much traveling the world, she would probably be the only family member you could truly lean on.
Unlike Jisoo, the eldest of you. Your relationship had always been strained, even as children. While you and Miyeon were close, Jisoo had always thought of herself as the best of the best, thus never bothering to actually spend time with you.
And when she married her wealthy husband, Juwon, her arrogance reached a whole new level. When your family's fortune went downhill and you had to marry below your status, her evil, cruel nature fully revealed itself to you.
While she was always cordial with your parents and sister, in private, you were her personal punching bag.
Your sister's voice snapped you back to the present. “Father's been asking about you,” Jisoo said, arranging the cutlery with a meticulousness that bordered on obsessiveness. “He's worried.”
“Worried?” you echoed, suppressing a bitter laugh. “Funny, he didn't seem worried at all when he handed me over to a monster.”
Jisoo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “He did what he thought was best for the family. You were meant to secure our future.”
“And look how well that turned out,” you said, the sarcasm dripping from your words. “One dead, another imprisoned, and me... here, all alone.”
For a brief moment, you could swear your sister's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of something almost like sympathy crossing her features. “Y/N...”
But you weren’t in the mood for her half-hearted attempts at empathy. “Save it, Jisoo. You’ve made your feelings clear enough over the years.”
Silence fell over the room as the two of you continued to set the table. God, in moments like these, you really needed Miyeon. Or ‘Always the peacemaker Miyeon’, as you called her. Because now, this large dining room, once a place full of warmth and laughter, felt like a mausoleum, merely filled with the ghosts and memories of happier, easier times. The ornate chandelier above - one of the rare expensive items your family kept after your father lost his job and status -, the polished wooden floors, the family portraits lining the walls - they all seemed to mock the illusion of a perfect family that had long since shattered.
The room fell into an uneasy silence afterwards. Jisoo's meticulously manicured fingers continued moving with precision, setting each fork and knife in its place, perfectly in order.
“Y/N,” Jisoo began again, her voice softer this time. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But we’re still family. We have to… find a way to move forward.”
You looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years. Behind the cold exterior, you saw traces of the sister you once played with in the gardens, the sister that, despite never being interested in the same things as Miyeon and you, tried her best to somewhat bond with you, all for the sake of the family. Before life had driven a wedge between you. Now, all those memories felt like they belonged to another lifetime, a dream you could barely recall.
“Moving forward,” you repeated, almost to yourself. “It sounds so simple when you say it.”
“It’s not simple,” Jisoo admitted, setting down the last knife and turning to face you fully. “But it’s necessary.”
You opened your mouth to reply, but the sound of footsteps in the hallway made you pause. Your father entered the room, his once robust frame now slightly stooped with age and worry. His eyes, once so full of authority, now seemed to carry the weight of too many regrets.
He looked as miserable as you felt.
“Y/N,” he said, “It’s good to see you. You've been hiding in your room every time I come back from the fields, I thought… I thought you were ignoring me.”
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak because yes, you totally were ignoring him. Your relationship with your father had always been complicated, and recent events had only made it worse.. He had been the one to arrange your marriage, to send you into the hands of the man who had caused you so much pain. Forgiveness was a luxury you couldn’t afford, not yet.
Not ever, maybe.
“Father,” you finally managed, your voice tight. “Jisoo and I were just finishing setting the table.”
He glanced at the table, then back at you, his eyes searching your face for something, anything - understanding, perhaps, or absolution. “Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to have the family together again, minus your lovely sister of course.”
Jisoo moved to stand beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “Are you worried? She's in good health, father, the delivery will surely go well.”
You tried so hard not to get upset at the scene unfolding in front of you. Seeing him so worried about Miyeon stung, because when has he ever shown you this kind of emotion?
He nodded, but his expression remained troubled. “Where’s your mother?”
“In the sitting room,” you replied. “She’s... resting.”
The truth was, you had left her standing in the middle of that room after yet another argument, lost in her own guilt and sorrow. But you didn’t have the energy to explain that to your father.
“I’ll go get her,” he said, turning to leave. “Dinner will be ready soon. Jisoo, get your sons from the garden.”
As he walked away, you felt a pang of something close to pity. For all his faults, your father was still trying to hold the family together, still clinging to the hope that things could return to some semblance of normalcy. But you knew better.
Jisoo’s voice pulled you back to the present. “We should finish up. Mother won’t be happy if everything isn’t perfect.”
You nodded, moving mechanically as you placed the last of the plates on the table. The scent of roasted meat and freshly baked bread wafted in from the kitchen, mingling with the tension in the air. This dinner, this facade of normalcy, felt like a cruel joke. But for now, you played along, if only to keep the peace a little while longer.
Dinner was… a strained affair, to say the least. Your family gathered around the table, the flickering candlelight casting shadows on faces that had grown distant and unfamiliar. Your mother, seated at the head, looked as if she were holding herself together by sheer force of will. Beside her, your father’s attempts at small talk fell flat, met with monosyllabic responses and uncomfortable silences.
Jisoo, always the dutiful daughter, tried to keep the conversation going. “Father, have you heard from the merchants about the new trade routes? I read that they’re opening up opportunities in the south. It could be good for the farm, we could get more profit and such.”
Your father nodded, seizing on the topic like a lifeline. “Yes, I’ve been in contact with a few of them. They say the prospects are promising. It could be a chance to recover some of what we’ve lost.”
You listened with half an ear, your thoughts all over the place.
You wondered what Hongjoong was doing at this very moment. Was he getting enough food? Was the little prison cell cold? Was he… Was he thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him? All you could think about was the memory of his touch, his voice, once your only source of comfort, now a constant torment. He was the only person who had ever truly understood you, and now he was paying the price for your actions.
“Y/N?” your mother’s voice brought you right back to reality, “Did you hear me?”
You blinked, realizing she had been speaking to you. “I’m sorry, Mother. What did you say?”
She sighed, a sound full of frustration and sadness. “I asked if you had any plans now that... now that things have changed.”
You knew what she meant. Now that your husband was dead, now that the scandal had rocked your family to its core. “I haven’t decided yet,” you said carefully. “There’s a lot to think about.”
Your mother nodded, her eyes flickering to your father, then back to you. “Just remember, we’re here for you. No matter what.”
You wanted to believe her, but the years of neglect and indifference had built walls that were impossible to tear down. “Thank you,” you said, though the words felt hollow.
As the meal wore on, the conversation thankfully turned to more mundane matters - Jisoo’s children, Miyeon’s pregnancy, the upcoming harvest celebration in town. It was as if everyone was trying to pretend that nothing had changed, that you were still a family bound by more than just blood and obligation.
But you knew better. And as you looked around the table at the faces of your family, you couldn’t help but wonder if they felt that, slowly but surely, you were no longer a part of them.
Later on, as everyone else was lingering in the living room already, you turned around to your mother, now all alone with you in the kitchen. “Mother?” you asked.
“What is it?”
“The bread you made… can I have some more of it? It was… very good.”
For a split second, she looked you right in the eye.
“...Sure, my daughter.”
She knew something was up.
But maybe, maybe, not intervening with your plans was her way of finally apologizing to you.
The small police station was cold and dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls. As you stepped inside, Officer Kim, one of only four officers in your town, looked up from his desk, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity as he spotted you.
“Mrs. Y/N,” he greeted, standing up. “What brings you here at this hour?”
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I need to see him,” you said, your voice cold and determined. “I need to face the man who killed my husband before he is executed.”
Officer Kim’s eyes widened slightly, but after composing himself, he nodded. “Of course. Just... be careful. He’s not in the best of moods.”
You forced a tight smile. “Thank you, Officer Kim. I brought this as a token of my appreciation.” You handed him the neatly wrapped loaf of bread. “It’s from my mother. She insisted.”
He accepted the gift with a nod. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very kind of you.”
As he led you down the short hallway to the cells, your heart pounded in your chest. The air grew colder the more you entered the building. At one point, it was so cold you felt multiple shivers run down your spine. God, Hongjoong must have frozen to death here.
You shook your head, taking another deep breath. You had to act, and act well, for your plan to work.
“There he is,” Officer Kim said, nodding toward the second cell. Hongjoong sat on the narrow cot, his head bowed, his hands clasped together. At the sound of your approach, he looked up, his eyes meeting yours instantly.
You saw the turmoil of emotions behind his eyes. Guilt, sorrow, and so much relief to finally see you again.
“Y/N,” he began, but you cut him off with a glare.
“Don’t you dare say my name,” you hissed, stepping closer to the bars. “You have no right to speak to me.”
Hongjoong’s eyes widened, but he quickly masked his emotions. “What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes.
“I needed to see you,” you spat, your voice dripping with venom. “I needed to look into the eyes of the man who murdered my husband.”
Officer Kim shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly uneasy with the tension. “I’ll give you a few minutes,” he said, retreating back to his desk. “But don’t take too long.”
You waited until his footsteps faded before turning back to Hongjoong, your expression softening. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I had to make it convincing.”
Hongjoong reached through the bars, his fingers brushing against yours. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, his voice trembling. He looked unwell; skinnier than ever before, his eyes sunken in and some torn, old clothes on his shivering frame.
“I have a plan to get you out,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to ensure Officer Kim wasn’t coming back just yet. “The bread I gave him... it’s poisoned. Not enough to kill, just enough to make him sick. When he’s down, I’ll get the keys and we’ll leave. Together.”
Hongjoong’s eyes filled with a mix of admiration and worry. “You’re risking everything for me.”
“I’d risk anything for you,” you confirmed, your voice breaking. “You’re the only person who’s ever truly cared for me. I can’t lose you.”
Before he could respond, you heard a muffled groan from the direction of the desk. It seemed as if officer Kim was already feeling the effects of the poison, his footsteps stumbling as he tried to return.
“Now,” you whispered urgently. “We have to go now.”
You hurried back to the entrance of the cells, finding Officer Kim slumped over his desk, groaning in pain. He looked up at you, confusion and betrayal clearly visible in his eyes.
“Mrs. Y/N... what...”
“I’m so, so sorry,” you said softly, reaching for the keys on his belt. “I had to.”
You returned to Hongjoong’s cell, unlocking the door with trembling hands. The door swung open with a creak, and he stepped out, his hand immediately finding yours.
“Let’s go,” you said, pulling him toward the back exit. “We don’t have much time.”
“Wait,” he said, and halted his steps. Before you could fully turn around and ask what's wrong, he was all over you.
His arms wrapped around you in a fierce embrace, pulling you close as if he were afraid you might disappear. You could feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic, echoing your own.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice choked with emotion. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
You held onto him just as tightly, savoring the warmth and solidity of his body against yours. “We don’t have much time,” you whispered, even though you wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms forever. “We have to go.”
Hongjoong nodded, pulling back slightly but keeping a firm grip on your hand. Together, you made your way out, your hearts pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. The night was cold and still, the moon casting a pale light over the deserted streets..
“We’ll head to the forest,” you said, squeezing Hongjoong’s hand. “I hid a few resources for us by the tree where we first met. Along with… along with some evidence. Against my former husband.”
“You want… you want to prove my innocence?”
You looked at him, and nodded. “You are innocent after all. And… and I am too.”
Hongjoong’s grip tightened on your hand as the two of you made your way through the dark, narrow streets. “I have someone who can help us,” he whispered urgently. “Someone… powerful.”
You glanced at him. “Who?”
“I can't tell you yet. But trust me, she can definitely help us.”
She?
You nodded, but your mind raced. “...Alright, let’s get to the tree first. We need those resources.”
The two of you moved down the all too familiar path. The town was quiet, the only sound the occasional bark of a distant dog or the rustle of leaves in the wind. Beside you, Hongjoong wasn't as quick as he'd usually be; the weeks of solitary confinement, barely enough food and cold temperatures were clearly evident, yet he did not once fall behind. You reached the tree where you and Hongjoong had first met, a towering oak tree.
The place where it all started.
“There,” you whispered, pointing to a hollow at the base of the tree. Hongjoong knelt down, reaching into the hollow and pulling out a small bag. He opened it, revealing the few precious items you had hidden: food, water, a change of clothes, and most importantly, the evidence that could clear Hongjoong’s name.
“These letters,” you said, pulling out a bundle of crumpled papers. “They’re from my husband. Threatening me, detailing his abuse and plans to ruin our family if I didn’t comply. They’ll prove what kind of man he really was.”
Hongjoong nodded, his eyes hardening. “We’ll make sure everyone knows the truth. But first, we need to get out of here.”
“Don't you want to rest?” you asked, clearly worried about his current state.
He just took your hand and placed a chaste kiss on it. “Later. I have to make sure you're safe first.”
“And you, too,” you added.
“And me too,” he repeated.
So, the two of you set off again, moving through the shadows, your hearts pounding in unison. As you reached the main street, you were determined to make it as far as possible, as quickly as possible. But as you rounded a corner, you came to a sudden halt.
A carriage awaited you, its dark silhouette looming in the moonlight. And standing beside it, his expression grim, was your father.
“Father,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “What are you doing here?”
He stepped forward, his eyes locked on yours. “I… had a feeling you’d try to run,” he said quietly. “And I couldn’t let you do it alone.”
You stared at him, confusion swirling in your mind. “What do you mean?”
He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’ve made many mistakes, Y/N. So, so many mistakes. But letting you suffer in silence was the worst of all. I’m not here to stop you. I’m here to help you. Even if it means I'll never see you again.”
Hongjoong stepped protectively in front of you, his eyes narrowed. “Why should we trust you? You never protected her before, why now?”
Your father met his gaze steadily. “Because I love my daughter.”
“You're a liar,” you whispered, hot, angry tears threatening to escape your eyes.
He fiercely shook his head. “I'm a bad person, Y/N. I do not want to earn my forgiveness with this. But I'm not a liar. Never that. Take this carriage and go, wherever you two want to.”
You looked at Hongjoong, then back at your father. “And what about you?”
He shook his head. “I’ll stay behind and livel with the consequences. It’s the least I can do.”
Tears filled your eyes as you stepped forward, embracing your father tightly. It was the first hug you shared in a long, long time, and also the last one. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice breaking.
He held you close for a moment, then gently pushed you toward the carriage. “Go. Be safe. And don’t look back.”
You and Hongjoong climbed into the carriage, the soft leather seats a stark contrast to the cold, hard ground you had just left. As the carriage began to move, you looked out the window, watching your father’s figure grow smaller and smaller until it fully disappeared into the night.
The carriage rattled along the narrow, winding road, the wheels clattering over the uneven stones. The night was cold, the air crisp with the promise of frost. You wrapped a blanket around yourself and Hongjoong, sharing the warmth as best you could. The lantern hanging from the carriage’s front swayed with each bump, casting erratic shadows that danced across the landscape.
The path ahead was long and treacherous, leading through dense forests and over rocky hills. Every so often, the carriage would hit a particularly deep rut, jolting you both almost freaking the horse out numerous times.
Luckily for you, Hongjoong was some kind of animal whisperer and managed to calm the horse pretty quickly each time.
As the hours passed, the moon climbed higher in the sky, its pale light filtering through the bare branches of the trees. The forest around you was alive with nocturnal sounds - the hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of a fox. You kept a wary eye on the shadows, aware that danger could lurk in the darkness.
Dawn was beginning to break when the carriage crested a hill, revealing a panoramic view of the valley below. The first light of day painted the landscape in soft hues of pink and gold, the rolling hills stretching out like a patchwork quilt. It was a moment of fleeting beauty, a reminder of the world beyond your troubles.
“It's so pretty here,” you whispered. Hongjoong hummed in return, his gaze slowly becoming more and more unfocused.
He was tired, and in desperate need for some rest.
“Let me drive for a while,” you said softly, touching Hongjoong's arm. “You need to rest.”
Hongjoong shook his head, though his exhaustion was evident. “I’ll rest later. We need to put as much distance between us and the town as possible.”
“Please,” you insisted, your voice gentle but firm. “You’re no good to me if you collapse from exhaustion. Let me take over until we find an inn.”
He hesitated, then finally nodded, knowing you were right. The carriage came to a halt, and you swapped places. As you took the reins, Hongjoong settled into the seat, wrapping the blanket tightly around himself. His eyes closed almost immediately, the tension in his body easing as he finally allowed himself to rest a little.
You guided the carriage along the winding road, the rhythm of the horse’s hooves a steady, comforting beat. The landscape around you began to change as the sun climbed higher, the dense forest giving way to open fields and distant mountains.
Hours passed, and you kept a vigilant eye on the road ahead. Occasionally, you would glance back at Hongjoong, who slept fitfully, his brow furrowed even in rest. The evidence you had gathered against your husband lay safely tucked away, a lifeline that could clear Hongjoong’s name and secure your future together.
As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the fields, you spotted a small village nestled at the base of the mountains. It was far enough from your town that you felt safe enough to stop for a while. The village appeared peaceful and quiet, only a few people out on the street at this hour.
You gently shook Hongjoong awake as the carriage rolled to a stop at the edge of the village. He stirred, blinking groggily. “Where are we?”
“A village,” you replied, helping him down from the carriage. “We can rest here for the night.”
He nodded, too tired to argue. The two of you made your way to the inn, a modest building with a welcoming glow emanating from its windows.
The inn's common room was a bustling hub of activity, filled with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of mugs. The innkeeper, a plump woman with kind eyes and a warm smile, greeted you as you approached the counter.
“Good evening, dear,” she said, her voice soft and welcoming. “What can I do for you?”
“We need a room for the night,” you replied, glancing back at Hongjoong, who was leaning heavily against the wall, fighting to stay awake.
The older woman nodded, her eyes flickering to Hongjoong before returning to you. "Of course, dear. We have one room available, but it only has one bed. I hope… that’s alright?”
Her eyes flickered towards your hand. There was no ring on it and so, if you took that single bed room, it would be quiet… frivolous.
You felt a flush rise to your cheeks. You yearned to be close to him, to feel his warmth and comfort, but after everything that happened, the thoughts of sleeping close to someone terrified you. And, most important in this current situation; you weren’t married yet.
Hongjoong, sensing your hesitation, stepped forward. “That will be fine,” he said softly, tired eyes settling upon your figure. “Thank you.”
It seemed you were the only one caring about appearances.
The innkeeper's smile widened, and she quickly handed you a key. “Room 3, just up the stairs. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.”
You nodded, taking the key with trembling hands. “Thank you,” you managed.
You carefully led Hongjoong up the narrow staircase. The wooden steps creaked under your weight, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. It seemed that with your arrival, the sound of previous laughter had fully died down. Or maybe the ringing in your ears was too loud for you to notice any other noises. When you reached the door to your room, you hesitated for a moment before unlocking it and pushing it open.
The room was small but cozy, with a single bed pushed against one wall and a small window that offered a view of the village below. The bed was covered with a thick, quilted blanket, and a simple wooden chair sat in the corner.
Hongjoong sank onto the bed with a sigh, his eyes already half-closed. You stood awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next.
“Y/N,” Hongjoong murmured, his voice gentle. “You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor.”
You shook your head, stepping closer. “No, you need to rest properly. We'll share the bed. It’s... it’s fine.”
He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and gratitude. “Are you sure?”
You nodded, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Yes. We'll manage. I trust you.”
And you did. What you did not trust though were your inner demons.
Hongjoong fully collapsed onto the bed, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. You sat beside him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “Rest now,” you whispered. “We’ll figure out the rest in the morning. I'll go ahead and fetch us something to eat, okay?”
He nodded, his eyes already closing. You stayed by his side for a few minutes, then quietly left the room to look for food you both desperately needed.
After finding some bread, cheese, and a couple of apples in the inn's small kitchen, you returned to the room. The scent of the simple meal filled the space, mingling with the comforting warmth of the inn. Hongjoong stirred as you entered, his eyes slowly opening.
“Food,” you announced with a soft smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed and handing him a piece of bread. “It's not much, but it's something.”
He took the bread with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. “Thank you,” he murmured, taking a bite. “This is perfect.”
You both ate in silence for a while. Despite the simplicity of the meal, it felt like a feast after eating little to nothing the past few days. Hongjoong's presence, his gentle smile, and the way he looked at you with such trust and affection made the food taste even better.
As you carefully cut and shared the apples with him, your fingers occasionally brushed against his, each touch sending a small shiver down your spine. The tension of the past days seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and connection. You found yourself laughing softly at the way Hongjoong tried to juggle the uncut apples, almost dropping them.
“You're hopeless,” you teased, giggling as he finally managed to catch them.
He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I'm just a man hopelessly in love,” he corrected, his tone playful yet sincere.
Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, carefree sound that you hadn't heard from yourself in a long time. It felt good to laugh, to share this moment of lightness with him.
As the meal came to an end, you both settled back on the bed, the small space forcing you to be close. Hongjoong's warmth radiated against your side, his arm brushing against yours. Despite the comfort of his presence, your body immediately tensed.
The last time a man laid next to you, he'd done unspeakable things to you.
But this… this was Hongjoong. Your Hongjoong.
You trusted him.
Yet at the same time, you were still terrified.
You tried to focus on his steady breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, but your heart raced, and your skin prickled with unease. You felt a knot of anxiety forming in your stomach, your muscles tightening involuntarily.
You couldn't breathe.
Hongjoong sensed your discomfort, his hand gently covering yours. “It's okay,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “I'm here.”
You nodded, but his reassurance did little to calm the storm inside you. Your mind was flooded with conflicting thoughts and emotions. The warmth of his body was both a comfort and a reminder of all you had endured. You wanted to relax, to let go and feel safe, but your body wouldn't allow it.
Your breathing quickened, your chest tightening. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, each beat drowning out every other sound. Your hands trembled, and you clutched the blanket tightly, trying to ground yourself.
“Breathe,” he murmured, his voice soft and steady. “Just breathe with me.”
“I can't,” you sobbed.
“Shhh. Just close your eyes.”
You did as he said, focusing on his voice, his warmth. Slowly, you matched your breathing to his. The tension in your muscles began to ease, though the fear still lingered at the edges of your mind.
Hongjoong's hand never left yours, his thumb tracing soothing patterns on your skin. “You're safe,” he whispered, his voice a balm to your frayed nerves. “I won't let anything happen to you.”
Tears welled up in your eyes. You squeezed his hand, finding strength in his presence. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. You felt the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest grounding you. “We'll get through this,” he murmured. “Together.”
“You know,” you slowly began, carefully turning around. Now, face to face with him, you carefully lifted your fingers and started tracing husband features; his acquainted eyebrows, over husband prominent cheekbones to his soft, plush lips, where you remained a little longer.
“I don't think I'd be alive without you, Kim Hongjoong. For that… for you, coming into my life and selflessly saving me, I am beyond thankful. But at the same time… at the same time, I can't help but think that if you'd never met me… you could still live your normal life. Sometimes… it gets all too much.”
You held his gaze, your fingers repeating your previous actions of lightly tracing the curve of his lips. “You’ve given me so much, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “More than I ever thought I deserved.”
His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. “You deserve everything, Y/N. More than I could ever give.”
The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache. “I don't know what I'd do without you,” you said, your voice breaking. “You've been my rock, my savior. I... I don't know if I can ever repay you.”
Hongjoong's hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers gently kneading the tension there. “You don't need to repay me. Just being with you is enough. Seeing you smile, hearing your laughter... that's all I need for the rest of my life.”
You closed your eyes, savoring the feel of his touch. His fingers were warm and strong, yet so gentle. It was a stark contrast to the harshness you had known before.
“You shine so bright, Joongie. Like the sun. My sun.”
He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. “And you will shine like that too again. Soon,” he breathed, his lips brushing against your skin. The intimacy of the moment made your heart race, but it wasn't fear this time. It was something else, something deeper.
Something only Kim Hongjoong could make you feel.
You opened your eyes, finding his face so close to yours that you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I'm scared. Not of you, but of losing you. Of the future. Of what might happen if they find us.”
He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering. “We won't let that happen. We're stronger together. They won't find us. Once we're in the capital, I’ll handle everything, okay?”
His words gave you strength, and you found yourself leaning into him, your lips brushing against his in a tender, lingering kiss. It was slow and gentle, a silent promise of your love and devotion towards each other. His hand slipped into your hair, holding you close as your lips moved together, exploring and savoring each other.
When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads still touching. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice filled with pure, raw emotion.
Hongjoong's eyes softened, his thumb tracing your jawline. “And I love you,” he replied, his voice just as tender. “More than words can say.”
You stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. In his embrace, you felt safe, cherished, and deeply loved. The fear and anxiety that had plagued you began to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being.
“Let’s rest now,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm. “Tomorrow is a new day, and we’ll face it together.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Together,” you echoed, your voice steady.
He gently guided you down onto the bed, pulling the blanket over both of you. His arms remained around you, holding you close as you settled into the warmth of his embrace.
As you drifted off to sleep, you felt his lips press a gentle kiss to your temple, his breath warm against your skin. “Goodnight, my love,” he murmured, his voice a soft caress.
“Goodnight,” you whispered back, your heart full.
That night, you finally had a good, peaceful sleep.
“How long until we arrive at the capital?”
Hongjoong was leaning against the carriage window, his eyes scanning the horizon. A storm would be coming soon, he said.
“Two more days, if we keep this pace,” he replied, turning to face you. “The storm may slow us down a bit.”
You nodded. The journey had been long and exhausting, the constant tension of being on the run making you an anxious mess. But with Hongjoong by your side, you felt a strength you had never known before.
The carriage jostled along the uneven road, the sounds of the wheels clattering against the stones a constant reminder of the distance still left to travel. You glanced at Hongjoong, his face etched with determination despite the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes.
“We’ll make it,” you said softly, more to yourself than to him. “We have to.”
He reached out, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We will,” he affirmed, his voice steady. “And once we’re there, we’ll find a way to solve all this mess. To start over.”
You leaned against him, drawing comfort from his presence.
You traveled through several more small villages, their inhabitants just beginning to stir. Farmers led their livestock out to pasture, and shopkeepers opened their doors, the smell of fresh bread and morning fires wafting through the air. The sight of these simple, everyday routines filled you with a strange sense of peace, a reminder that life went on, and that, maybe in the future, your life may look like this too.
Simple yet happy and fulfilling.
And then, you arrived.
You gasped as the large gates of the city appeared in front of you.
The capital was a sprawling maze of streets and alleys, bustling with activity. Everything here was just so much larger, louder and generally more impressive, a stark contrast to the quiet, simpler life you had known. The noise and commotion seemed to close in around you, but Hongjoong’s steady presence kept you grounded.
“It's a lot to take in, right?” he asked.
You nodded, mouth opened in awe as you took in your surroundings. “It's huge. I can't stop looking everywhere!”
He laughed, gently squeezing your hand. “We'll have plenty of time to explore everything once we've settled in properly. I'll show you all my favorite places, okay?”
You smiled at him. A gentle, real smile. “Okay!”
Hongjoong looked around, his eyes bright with excitement despite the exhaustion. “Luckily for us, two of my closest friends live here. They’re good people, and I’m sure they’ll offer us a place to stay.”
You felt a wave of relief wash over you. “That would be wonderful. I can’t wait to meet them. You haven't told me much about your past, so I’m really excited, Joongie.”
“In the future, I'll tell you everything you want to know. My past, present and future are yours, Y/N.”
Your heart fluttered, and a deep blush coated your face. A sheepish smile stole its way onto your lips.
Hongjoong led you through the bustling streets, expertly navigating the maze of alleys and markets. After a few twists and turns, you arrived at a modest but welcoming home.
He hastily jumped up the carriage and then held his hand out for you to take it. You smiled at him. Your lover was a true gentleman, and it made you feel all giddy inside, even at such a small gesture.
Hongjoong knocked on the door, and moments later, it swung open to reveal a tall, athletic man with sharp features and an inquisitive look.
“Hongjoong?” the man said in surprise, his eyes widening. The first thing you noticed was his clothes. They looked… expensive. And yet, he lived in such a small home.
You wondered what his story was.
“What are you doing here?”
“San, it’s a long story,” Hongjoong replied, pulling San into a hug. “We need a place to stay. Is Wooyoung home?”
San nodded, stepping aside to let you both in. “He’s in the kitchen. Come in.”
As you stepped inside, you were immediately greeted by the comforting smell of home-cooked food. A few moments later, another man appeared, carrying a tray of freshly baked bread. He had a playful sparkle in his eyes and a welcoming smile on his face.
“Who do we have here?” Wooyoung asked, setting the tray down and wiping his hands on a towel.
“Wooyoung, this is my friend,” Hongjoong introduced you. “She's been traveling with me.”
Wooyoung’s eyes widened in surprise and then softened. “Well, any friend of Hongjoong’s is welcome here. Please, make yourself at home.”
You felt a warmth spread through you at their genuine hospitality. San and Wooyoung led you to a cozy living room where a fire crackled in the hearth. You sank into a comfortable chair, letting out a sigh as your aching muscles relaxed.
“Sorry for the sudden arrival,” Hongjoong said, his tone sincere. “We didn’t have time to send word ahead.”
San waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. We’re just glad you’re safe. What’s going on?”
Hongjoong looked at you first, before briefly explaining: “It's too long of a story to share in detail. But, we had to flee from where we came from and are now on a mission to… clear up some misunderstandings. I can promise you two that you'll be kept out of any trouble. I just… need a safe place, especially to keep my woman safe.”
San nodded, curiously glancing towards you as the words ‘my woman’ left Hongjoong’s mouth. You smiled awkwardly at the man. “We have a spare room you can use, Hongjoong.”
Tears of gratitude welled up in your eyes. It wasn't much, but just having a place to stay, surrounded by people you knew Hongjoong trusted, was enough to make you feel all sorts of emotions.
“Thank you,” you said, your voice choked with emotion. “Thank you so much.”
Hongjoong squeezed your hand again, his own eyes full of gratitude. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered softly. “Wooyoung and San are good, nice people. How about you just relax and befriend them while I'll do the work, hm?”
“I couldn't possibly-”
“Oh, but you can”, he interrupted you, playfully playing with your hair. “My Y/N should never worry her pretty head about anything again now that she's with me.”
You giggled sheepishly. “Oh Joongie, you're such a flirt!”
“Ahem.” A voice interrupted you and suddenly, the bubble around the two of you burst and you were reminded that you were not alone but, in fact, in the house of two men who were now very openly staring at you.
One who was cackling behind his hand like a menace - Wooyoung - and the other one who did not know where he should look. You, or the very interesting ceiling?
“So, ‘my woman', huh?” Wooyoung teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Since when did you become such a romantic, Hongjoong? And most importantly: where’s our invitation to the wedding?”
Hongjoong’s ears turned a deep shade of red, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wooyoung, now’s not the time…”
“Oh, but it’s always the time for love, Joongie!” Wooyoung replied with a dramatic flourish. “Here we were, thinking you were just wandering around from city to city and selling your dresses, but no, you were secretly out there sweeping a lovely lady off her feet!”
San tried to interject, a desperate attempt to hold the man beside him back. “Wooyoung, maybe we should-”
“San, don’t be a killjoy,” Wooyoung interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. “This is the most excitement we’ve had in weeks! Besides, our Hongjoong, who couldn't even look a woman into the eye the last time we saw him, has finally grown up. We must celebrate!”
“I'm older than both of you, Wooyoung!”
Hongjoong buried his face in his hands, clearly embarrassed. You couldn’t help but giggle at the situation, feeling a bit more at ease in the presence of the two strangers now.
“Y/N, you should know,” Wooyoung continued, leaning in conspiratorially, “Hongjoong here is quite the catch. He’s a gentleman, a true and talented dressmaker, and apparently, a poet. ‘My woman’, indeed.”
San finally managed to find his voice. “Alright, Wooyoung, give them a break. They’ve had a long journey, and they need rest, not your joking.”
Wooyoung pouted dramatically. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this conversation is over, Hongjoong. We need all the juicy details later.”
Hongjoong groaned, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “You never change, do you, Wooyoung?”
“Never,” Wooyoung replied proudly. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way.”
San shook his head, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get you both settled in. You can rest, and we’ll talk more later. Until then Wooyoung, behave yourself.”
Wooyoung saluted playfully. “Aye, aye, captain!”
Later that evening, after a hearty meal and much laughter with Wooyoung and San, you were led into a small, cozy room. The modest bed in the corner looked incredibly inviting after the long journey. You quickly freshened up, San kindly lending you some spare clothing for the night, before returning back to the room. Hongjoong was already there, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling lost in thought. You quietly slipped in beside him, the bed creaking softly under your weight.
He turned to you, his expression softening as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. “How are you feeling?” he asked gently.
“Tired,” you admitted, snuggling closer to him.
Only then did you realize that, despite sharing the bed with him multiple times now, this was the first time both of you wore proper sleeping clothing. Therefore, both of you were a bit… more exposed than usual.
Suddenly, you were very, very aware of the naked skin his hand was occasionally touching.
And your heart skipped a beat. This time, not of the usual warmth Hongjoong ignited within you all the time.
No, this time, there was also a hint of fear rushing through your veins.
You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the softness of his touch, yet the past clung to you like a shroud, and you felt a flicker of hesitation within you.
“Y/N,” Hongjoong’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, low and soothing, “you can trust me.” There was an earnestness in his tone, a promise that echoed in the silence of the room. He shifted closer, his body radiating heat and a sense of safety that beckoned you to let go of your fears and open your eyes to meet him.
Nothing but sincerity and love greeted you in his gaze.
As his hand traced a gentle path along your arm, you shivered at the sensation. It was a touch that was so different from what you had known, devoid of the harshness that had once marred your skin and spirit. His fingers danced lightly over your wrist, and you felt a rush of warmth that sent a thrill through your heart, igniting a yearning you had thought was lost forever.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort. You nodded carefully. It was a struggle to separate the innocence of his affection from the painful memories that tainted your every being. You could feel your breath quicken as he leaned closer, the scent of him - fresh and comforting - surrounding you like a soft embrace.
Hongjoong’s fingers slipped beneath your chin, tilting your face towards his. The way he looked at you, with such reverence and care, made your heart ache. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured, and it felt like a balm to your soul. You had craved this kind of tenderness, and even though the man in front of you was willing to give it to you, to give you his all, a remaining feeling of panic remained deep inside of you.
“I'm sorry you have to deal with this again. One may think that after we slept side by side so many times already I would get used to it. I don't know why I'm so pathe-”
“Princess, don't you dare finish this sentence. You're incredible and don't have to apologize for a single thing.”
He leaned in, brushing his lips softly against yours, a gentle caress that sent shivers down your spine. It was a kiss that said so, so much, a kiss that was patient and completely unhurried. You melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body envelop you like a protective cocoon.
You did your best to believe in his words.
That night, nothing more happened.
Hongjoong knew that it would take you a long while to truly let go of your fears.
And, while tracing more gentle kisses along your skin, all he said was: “I don't need you to give me your body to know that you are already mine and I am yours.”
The next day, as you slowly woke up and blinked the tears away, you noticed two things immediately: winter was coming, and the temperatures were dropping quickly and, most importantly; Hongjoong's side of the bed was empty.
There was no logical explanation for the panic that immediately set in, yet you felt your chest tightening and your heart pounding quickly. You rushed out of bed, almost stumbling over your own feet as you slipped into the soft pantoffels San provided you with, and sprinted down the stairs.
“Woah, what's the rush-”
“Wooyoung”, you interrupted the man with sleepy, still half-closed eyes, “Where's Hongjoong?”
He scratched the back of his hand. “He left when you fell asleep last night. All he said was that he had some matters to take care of and would be back early in the morning. He… isn't back yet?”
The weight of Wooyoung's words hit you like a train. If Hongjoong had promised to be back by morning, then where was he? The sun was already peeking through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room, and there was still no sign of him. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to make sense of the situation.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the panic threatened to overwhelm you. “No… he isn't back yet,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt foreign on your tongue.
Wooyoung's expression shifted from confusion to concern. “Maybe he got held up somewhere? You know how he is… always taking on more than he should.”
You shook your head, refusing to accept that as the answer. “He wouldn't just leave without telling me. Not like this.”
But what if he would?
The unease in your chest grew stronger, the fear tightening its grip around your heart.
Wooyoung reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe he's on his way back right now.”
But you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the doubt he was trying so hard to hide. The pit in your stomach deepened, and you knew you couldn't just sit around waiting, hoping that everything would be okay.
“I need to find him,” you said, determination lacing your voice. You quickly turned on your heel, heading for the door without another word.
"Wait!" Wooyoung called after you, but you were already halfway out the door, your mind set on one thing: finding Hongjoong.
And then you pumped head first into San.
“Careful, little one. What's the-”
“Have you seen Hongjoong?” you blurted out, your voice trembling as you nearly collided with San.
San’s usually warm expression was replaced with a frown. “No, I haven’t. What’s going on? Why are you in such a rush?”
You hesitated, your mind racing. Should you tell them? Would they even understand? Hongjoong hasn't told them anything concrete about your situation as of now, and you weren't sure if you should tell them without him present.
“He’s… He’s not back yet. Wooyoung said he left last night, but he should’ve been back by now.”
San’s eyes widened. “And he hasn't said where he's going?”
You shook your head, fighting to keep your voice steady. “No. But I... I can’t just sit around and wait. I need to find him.”
San looked conflicted, glancing over at Wooyoung, who had followed you outside. “But you don’t know your way around the capital. You could get lost or… worse.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but San gently placed a hand on your arm, stopping you. “I get that you’re worried, but let’s wait a bit longer, okay? He wouldn’t want you getting into trouble trying to find him.”
The thought of sitting around doing nothing while Hongjoong was out there - somewhere - felt unbearable. He was shouldering all your problems alone, and it made you both guilty and mad that he didn't even tell you a single thing.
Reluctantly, you nodded, and San led you back inside the house. The atmosphere was heavy as the three of you settled into the living room, the clock on the wall ticking away the minutes in agonizing slowness.
“So… uh…”
Awkward silence set in, both men looking at each other concerned. Wooyoung, trying to lighten the mood, leaned back on the couch and stretched.
“Uh.. Did you know that San literally can't sleep without hugging something? And with something, I mean me - like, this man doesn't know how strong he is and literally suffocates me every night!”, he laughs.
You glanced at San, who looked somewhat mortified, a blush creeping up his neck. “Wooyoung…” he muttered, giving him a half-hearted glare. Unfortunately, his joke did nothing to soothe your nerves. If anything, it only made the awkwardness more palpable. “Uh, that's… interesting,” you mumbled, not really knowing what else to say. You liked them both, but conversations with them always felt like you were navigating a minefield, unsure of where to step.
Especially now that Hongjoong wasn't here with you.
San rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. “It's not like that, really. It's just… a comfort thing, I guess.”
You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, stealing glances at Wooyoung and San, who were both trying, in their own ways, to lighten the atmosphere. They were being so kind, so patient, but it only made you feel worse. You weren’t used to this. It was foreign, almost suffocating, in a way you couldn't quite understand.
Wooyoung cleared his throat, breaking the silence, seemingly ignoring that you still haven't said anything to his joking attempt to lighten the mood. “So, uh, have you had breakfast yet? I can make something if you’re hungry.”
You shook your head, though the thought of eating made your stomach twist in a knot. “No, I’m… I’m not really hungry.”
“Coffee, then?” San offered, trying to keep the conversation going. “Or tea? I think there’s still some left in the kitchen.”
You hesitated, not wanting to seem ungrateful. “Maybe… tea?” It felt like the right thing to say, even if you weren’t sure you could stomach anything right now.
San nodded, giving you a small, encouraging smile. “Tea it is. I’ll be right back.” He got up, his footsteps almost too loud in the quiet room, leaving you alone with Wooyoung. The silence between you and the other man was thick, both of you unsure of what to say. You could feel his gaze on you, but you kept your eyes fixed on the floor, afraid that if you looked up, he’d see just how out of sorts you really were.
Wooyoung shifted in his seat, clearly trying to come up with something to break the tension. “You know, I don’t think we’ve really had the chance to talk much… Just us,” he said.
“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up. You wanted to be able to talk to him, to say something normal, but the words just wouldn’t come. It was frustrating - feeling like you were locked inside your own head, even when you desperately wanted to reach out. He leaned back, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I get it, though. Meeting new people can be… overwhelming.”
You looked up at him. “It’s just… I’m not really used to this. To any of this,” you admitted quietly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Wooyoung nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I figured. But hey, no pressure. We’re just… trying to make you feel welcome, you know? You're Hongjoong's girl, after all.”
“I know,” you replied quickly, feeling a pang of guilt. “I really appreciate it. I do. It’s just… hard, sometimes.”
He didn’t press you, just nodded again, his eyes soft. “It’s okay. We’re not in any rush. We’ve all got our own issues, you know?”
Before you could respond, San returned, holding a steaming mug of tea. He handed it to you with a small, reassuring smile. “Here you go. It’s chamomile - good for relaxing.”
“Thanks,” you whispered, wrapping your hands around the warm mug, letting the heat seep into your skin.
San settled back into his seat, the three of you once again falling into a somewhat awkward silence. You sipped your tea, the warmth soothing your throat, but it did little to calm the turmoil inside you. They were trying so hard, and that only made it worse. You could see the effort in every glance, every word. They didn’t know your past, your struggles, and you didn’t know how to tell them - didn’t even know if you should. And so you stayed quiet, trapped in your own thoughts, feeling like an outsider despite their best efforts.
“I guess… I’m just not good at this,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“At what?” San asked gently, leaning forward slightly.
“Talking. Being around people. Making… friends I don’t know how to…” You trailed off, unable to find the right words.
Wooyoung chuckled softly, not in a mocking way, but as if he understood more than you realized. “You’re doing just fine. We’re not exactly pros at this either, you know. Most of the time, we’re just winging it.”
San nodded in agreement. “He’s right. It’s okay to not know what to say. We’re just… glad you’re here.”
Their words made something inside you ache. You still weren’t used to kindness without strings attached, to people caring just because. It felt undeserved, even after Hongjoong showed you that you did in fact deserve it, and that made you even more unsure of how to act.
“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. You wanted to be better at this, for them, for Hongjoong, but you didn’t know how.
Wooyoung grinned, nudging your shoulder lightly. “No need to thank us. We’re all in this together, right?”
You nodded, managing a small smile in return. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And that was enough for now.
If someone would've told you that you'd ever be genuinely mad at Kim Hongjoong, you definitely would've laughed right in their face. Because Hongjoong was the kindest, sweetest man you'd ever known, so what would ever make you angry at him?
“Ah, look who's back,” was all you said as you heard the door close behind you.
You had never imagined feeling this way toward Hongjoong, the man who you grew to love so much. But now, as you stood in your shared living room, hearing the door close behind you, that anger burned hotter, fueled by the fear and helplessness that had consumed you all morning.
You didn't turn around to face him immediately, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one only making the knot in your chest tighter.
The sound of his footsteps approaching filled the room, and you could feel his presence behind you, close enough to touch. For a moment, you considered letting it go, just brushing it all under the rug like you’d done with so many things before. But this was different. This problem wasn't just his alone; this was your life too, your problems, your fears, and he had just walked away, leaving you in the dark.
Hongjoong hesitated. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” he began, but that was all it took to make you whirl around, your emotions spilling over.
“Sorry? You’re sorry?” The words came out harsher than you intended, but you couldn’t stop them. “You left without saying a word, Hongjoong. I don't even know where you went! You promised you’d be back by morning, and then you just… didn’t come back. It's almost midnight now! Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
His eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your outburst. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said, his voice softening, but you could see the guilt in his eyes. “I just had to take care of some things-”
“But why alone?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do you always do this? You think you have to handle everything by yourself, like I’m some fragile thing that needs to be protected. But this is my problem too, Joong! I have a right to know, to help, to be there with you! Because…” your voice broke, and you looked at the floor as you wiped a tear away, “because the guilt is eating me alive, Joong. Without me… without me, none of this would have ever happened. It all began with me, so I should… I should take responsibility too.”
Hongjoong’s expression softened as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. “Hey, hey, no,” he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out to cup your face, but you took a step back and shook your head silently.
“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Don’t act like this is just something we can brush aside, like it’s no big deal. You think you’re protecting me by keeping things from me, but you’re not. You’re only making it worse. I can’t keep doing this, Joong. I can’t keep pretending that it’s okay for you to shut me out. For you to shoulder everything alone.”
Hongjoong’s hand dropped to his side, his face crumbling with regret. “I never wanted to shut you out. I just… I didn’t want you to worry, didn’t want you to feel like you had to carry this burden. You're still so… hurt. I thought I was doing the right thing by handling it on my own.”
“But it’s not just your burden to carry!” you cried, your voice breaking. “We’re supposed to be in this together, Joong. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle. You don’t get to just leave me in the dark, wondering if you’re okay, wondering if you’ll even come back. I was worried sick the whole day!”
His eyes were filled with a pain that mirrored your own, and for a moment, he looked like he didn’t know what to say, like he didn’t know how to make this right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I’m so, so sorry.”
You shook your head, tears spilling over your cheeks as you looked at him, at the man you loved more than anything in the world, the man who had somehow become a stranger to you in this moment.
“I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight,” you mumbled. “You may talk to me again when you're finally ready to include me in your plans. Until then… good night, Joong.”
“Y/N, wait-”
But the door shut close behind you before he could finish his sentence.
“H‐hey, I'm sorry, I really didn't want to eavesdrop, but I heard you two arguing...” San’s voice trailed off, his gaze meeting yours. The moment your tear-filled eyes locked with his, the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check threatened to overflow.
For a second, you hesitated. You weren’t close to San - not really. He was still more of a stranger than a friend, someone who was kind and caring but still somewhat distant. But right now, you felt like you were drowning, and he was the only solid thing within your reach.
Without thinking, you moved towards him. As soon as you reached him, you hesitated again, but before you could pull back, San’s arms wrapped around you in a warm, protective embrace. You buried your face in his chest, and the dam inside you finally broke.
Tears poured down your cheeks as you cried against him, the sobs you’d been holding back all day finally breaking free. San stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but he quickly relaxed, his hold tightening slightly as he let you cry it out.
The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear - it was the first comfort you’d felt all day. But even as he stood there comforting you, you still felt torn. The only person you'd ever fully confined in was Hongjoong. This was new territory for you, and it was both comforting and terrifying at the same time.
San didn’t say anything, just stood there quietly, holding you as you trembled in his arms. His hand moved slowly to your back, rubbing gentle circles as he tried to soothe you. His touch was hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing.
As your sobs subsided, leaving you with shaky breaths and red, tear-streaked cheeks, you slowly pulled back, wiping your eyes. You were still in his arms, but you felt the awkwardness creeping back in, and your gaze wandered again, not knowing where to look.
“I… I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. “I didn’t mean to…”
San shook his head, his gaze softening. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said quietly. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to break down sometimes.”
You managed a small, shaky smile, but the uncertainty was still there, lingering between you. “I just… I don’t know what to do, San. I feel so lost. Hongjoong… he means everything to me, but he’s shutting me out. I know he has only my best interest at heart, but… This is my story, too. And I don’t know how to handle that.”
San hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly what you’re going through,” he began, “but I do know that Hongjoong cares about you - more than you probably realize. He’s just… used to handling things on his own. ”
You nodded.
“You’re… you’re really kind, San,” you murmured, your voice still trembling. “But we barely know each other. I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”
San’s expression softened even more, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You’re not a burden. We all have our struggles, and sometimes it helps to have someone to lean on, even if it’s someone you’re not that close to… yet.” He added that last word with a gentle emphasis, as if offering a bridge to something more.
You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and for the first time, you felt a small crack in the walls you've built around yourself.
And so, in the heat of the moment, you told him everything. San brought you to the living room, where he carefully sat you down and wrapped you in a blanket, and as Wooyoung joined you two, you told them everything.
About your marriage, your family, your town - and about the man who took it upon himself to save you from this cruel fate.
The tension between you and Hongjoong had been unbearable for days. Ever since that night, neither of you had spoken more than a few words to each other.
You had thrown yourself into anything that could keep your mind busy - cleaning, reading, anything to avoid thinking about the rift that had formed between you and the man you loved.
Then, one evening, as you sat alone in the living room, lost in thought, you heard the front door creak open. Hongjoong stepped in, his presence immediately filling the room with the weight of everything left unsaid. Your heart clenched at the sight of him - he looked exhausted, worn down by the stress of the past few days.
He stood there for a moment, just looking at you, as if trying to gauge your mood, before finally breaking the silence. “We need to talk.”
The words sent a chill down your spine, but you nodded, too tired to resist any longer. “Okay,” you said quietly, standing up from the couch and facing him.
Hongjoong swallowed, his throat bobbing as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you’re still angry at me,” he began, his voice low and strained. “And I understand why. I learned my lesson, Y/N. But now… now I wanna include you. If you… if you want that.”
You didn’t say anything, just watched him, your heart beating faster as he continued.
“There’s someone we need to see,” he said after a pause, his eyes searching for yours. “Someone who can help us, who can clear my name and… maybe, just maybe, give us a chance at a life without all this running and hiding.”
You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him correctly. “Who… who are you talking about?”
Hongjoong took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for what he was about to say. “The Queen,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s the only one powerful enough to undo this mess. I’ve been trying to arrange a meeting with her for days, but she’s… she’s not easy to reach. But now… now we can finally meet her.”
Your eyes widened in shock. “The Queen? As in… the Queen?”
The Queen was a figure of almost mythical power, someone so far removed from your world that the idea of asking for her help seemed as impossible as wishing on a star.
But Hongjoong’s expression was deadly serious, and you could see the determination burning in his eyes. He wasn’t just grasping at straws - he truly believed this was your last chance, your only hope to end the nightmare that had taken over your lives.
“The Queen,” he confirmed, his voice steady, though his hands were shaking slightly as he reached out to you.
“You know… I… I’ve worked for her for years, Y/N. I made her gowns, her dresses, the wedding dress she wore when she married the King… that was mine. She told me once, when I presented it to her, that if I ever needed anything, anything at all, she would do her best to help me. And I never thought I’d have to take her up on that offer, but now… I have no other choice.”
“The Queen… oh my God,” you whispered. “This is… insane.”
The reality of what Hongjoong was saying began to sink in, and your mind spun with the implications. The Queen, the most powerful woman in the kingdom, someone who could alter the course of your lives with just a single word… It was overwhelming, to say the least. You’d grown up hearing stories about her, tales of her beauty, wisdom, and strength. But those were just stories. The idea of meeting her, let alone asking for her help, seemed impossible. Yet here Hongjoong was, standing in front of you, serious and resolute.
“I know it sounds insane,” Hongjoong said, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “But this is our best chance, Y/N. Maybe our only chance. And we have evidence. The letters, remember?
“-And the scars on my body,” you whispered.
Hongjoong bawled his hands, his jaw clenching immediately. “You never… told me you had remaining scars.”
You nodded. “Ignoring them is easier. I try to… forget them entirely when I can.”
Without a word, he moved closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a silent gesture of comfort. You leaned into him, the warmth of his body making you relax immediately.
After a moment, he cleared his throat, shifting the focus back to the task at hand. “We need to get ready,” he said, his voice steady. “If we’re going to meet the Queen, we can’t go in looking like this.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“There’s no time to waste. I have to make something for us,” he said, determination flashing in his eyes. “We need to look elegant. I might not have my supplies here, but I can work with what we have.”
Your heart raced at the thought of him making outfits from scratch. “Are you sure you can do that?”
He nodded firmly, already moving toward the small room where you were temporarily staying in Wooyoung and San's house. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me a minute to gather some things.”
You watched as he began searching through the limited fabric and materials you had, his hands working swiftly. He rummaged through the closet, pulling out old sheets and any leftover clothing you had brought along. You felt a mixture of admiration and anxiety as you realized the weight of what he was attempting to do.
“What do you need me to do?” you asked, stepping closer to him.
“There's a shop nearby that sells fabrics,” he said, already rummaging through his pockets for money, “I need you to buy me some. Can you do that?”
Your heart raced at the urgency in his voice, but a wave of uncertainty washed over you. “Uh, sure, but... I’m not sure where it is,” you admitted, glancing out the window. The sun was starting to set, and you were acutely aware of the time slipping away.
“I’ll draw you a quick map,” he said, moving quickly to grab a scrap of paper and a pen. He sketched a simple layout, marking the route to the shop with clear, careful lines. “You can do this, Y/N. Just follow the map, and don’t let anyone see you.”
You nodded. “What do you need me to get?”
“Just some quality fabric, something that looks nice but isn’t too extravagant. Maybe something dark for me, something light and flowing for you,” he instructed, glancing up at you. “Can you remember that?”
You took a deep breath, nodding again. “Yes, I can do that.”
“Great,” he said, folding the paper and handing it to you. “I’ll need you back as soon as possible. We don’t have much time.”
“I’ll be quick,” you promised. As you turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of him, already immersed in his work, the fabric and thread strewn across the table like a chaotic canvas.
As you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face. You followed the map he had drawn. The shop wasn’t far, and soon you found yourself standing in front of a small fabric store, the sign creaking softly in the breeze.
Once inside, the overwhelming scent of textiles filled your senses. Bolts of fabric in every color and texture lined the walls, and the shopkeeper gave you a curious look as you stepped in. Remembering Hongjoong’s instructions, you immediately focused on finding something that fit his descriptions.
After scanning the shelves, you spotted a soft, flowing fabric in a light cream color that seemed perfect. You could almost picture how beautiful it would look on you. With that in mind, you also searched for a darker fabric for Hongjoong. You settled on a deep navy blue, rich yet understated, that would complement the cream tone perfectly.
With your choices made, you approached the counter, your heart pounding as you handed over the money Hongjoong had given you. The shopkeeper smiled and carefully wrapped the fabric.
“Thank you,” you said, clutching the bundle tightly as you headed back outside.
As you stepped through the door of Wooyoung and San's house, you saw Hongjoong still working diligently. He looked up, his eyes lighting up as he saw the fabric in your arms. “You did it!” he exclaimed, taking the fabric from you. “This is perfect!”
You smiled, relieved to see his excitement. “I hope it’s what you wanted. I wasn’t sure…”
“It’s exactly what I needed,” he said, moving quickly to lay the fabric out on the table. “Now, we can start putting everything together.”
Hongjoong spread the fabrics across the table, eyes gleaming with purpose. “This is going to be incredible,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. You watched him with admiration as he quickly sketched designs in his notebook, his mind racing with ideas.
The first night stretched on, the room dimly lit by a single lamp casting shadows on the walls. You could hear the rhythmic hum of the sewing machine as Hongjoong lost himself in the work.
Time blurred as the night turned into dawn, and you found yourself falling in and out of sleep. The only sounds were the soft whir of the machine and the occasional rustle of fabric. You’d occasionally catch Hongjoong stealing glances at you, and though he was clearly exhausted, there was a fire in his eyes that wouldn't die down.
By morning, the first pieces of your outfits began to take shape. “Look at this,” Hongjoong said, holding up the bodice of your gown. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn't help but smile. “It’s coming together beautifully, don’t you think?”
“It’s stunning, Hongjoong,” you replied, your heart swelling with admiration. “I can't wait to see the final piece.”
As he set it down and returned to his work, you noticed how hard he had to concentrate just to keep his eyes open. He was clearly pushing himself to the limit. You wanted to urge him to take a break, to rest for a moment, but you hesitated.
Hongjoong moved with practiced precision, cutting and sewing and cutting and sewing; repeating the same routine over and over again.
Yet, as the hours ticked by, his pace slowed down more and more.
“Hongjoong,” you finally said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Maybe you should take a break. You’ve been at this for so long.”
He paused, looking at you with those tired yet determined eyes. “I can’t stop now. We’re so close. I just need to finish your gown, and then I’ll rest, I promise.”
You sighed. “Okay, but promise me you’ll take care of yourself too. I don’t want you collapsing from exhaustion when we meet the Queen.”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips, but the laughter quickly faded as he nodded. “I promise, Y/N. Just a bit longer.”
A bit longer turned out to be one more day full of work.
On the evening of the second day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Hongjoong finally stepped back, surveying the gown he had made for you. The fabric flowed beautifully, a soft cream color with delicate embroidery that accentuates your figure. It was breathtaking.
“Look,” he said, gesturing to the dress. “It’s finished.”
“It doesn't matter how many dresses of yours I'll see, I'll always be amazed… you're so talented, Joongie,” you said, slowly stepping between his legs and carefully combing through his hair.
Hongjoong slung his arms around your waist and laid his head on your stomach, closing his eyes for a few minutes.
You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of his reassurance settle within you. “So, how exactly will we get to the palace?” you asked, trying to shift the focus from your worries to practical matters.
He pulled away slightly, his eyes brightening as he began to explain. “The Queen’s servants are discreet and efficient. After I sent word to her, she agreed to send a carriage for us. It should arrive tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow?” The reality sent your heart racing again. “Do we have everything ready? What if something goes wrong?”
Hongjoong chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t worry. Everything is in place. The only thing we need to do is stay calm.”
The following morning arrived way too fast. You woke to the sound of birds chirping outside and a warm breeze entering your room through the window.
Hongjoong was already up, carefully folding the outfits he had poured his heart into over the past two days. You stood up and approached him, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Are you ready for this?” you asked softly.
He nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, offering you a small smile.
You gave him a reassuring nod yourself, though your own nerves were starting to fray. The idea of meeting the Queen, of putting your fate in her hands, felt surreal. But there was no turning back now. You quickly changed into the gown Hongjoong had created for you, the fabric cool against your skin, yet surprisingly comforting. It fit you perfectly, accentuating your form in all the right ways, the soft cream color making you feel both elegant and ethereal.
Though the dress Hongjoong created back in your hometown, the one so blue it reminded you if the sea itself, would always be your favorite, this one was nonetheless nothing but breathtaking.
When you finally emerged, Hongjoong’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at you for a long moment, a proud smile stealing its way on his lips. “You look… beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Just like I imagined.”
You smiled, stepping closer to him. “You look amazing, too.”
Hongjoong's gaze softened as you stepped closer. All that mattered was him, standing before you, his eyes tracing every curve and line of your face.
You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you brushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. His breath hitched at the simple touch, and you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, the love, the desire, and the lingering regret of the days you'd spent apart.
His hands found your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. The heat of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest,
Hongjoong’s eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission, for reassurance. You didn’t need to say a word - your eyes told him everything he needed to know. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. The anticipation was almost unbearable.
When his lips finally met yours, the world around you seemed to disappear. The kiss was slow, almost hesitant at first, as if he was savoring every second. His lips were soft, warm, and as they moved against yours, you felt a deep, aching need stirring within you, a need that had been building for days, weeks, months.
Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Hongjoong responded in kind, his grip on your waist tightening as his other hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to gain better access. The kiss grew more intense, more passionate, as if all the emotions you'd both been holding back were pouring out in this one, desperate act.
You could taste the urgency on his lips, feel the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours. His tongue brushed against yours, sending a wave of heat through your body that made you feel like you were melting into him. The kiss was everything - sweet and tender, yet fierce and consuming.
Hongjoong’s hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you. You could feel the strength in his arms, the way his muscles tensed under your touch, and it only made you want him more.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Hongjoong’s eyes were half-lidded, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. He looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and desire, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real, that this very moment here was real.
“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “I love you so much.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you cupped his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs gently across his cheeks. “I love you too, Hongjoong. I always have. I always will.”
He smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. And then, without another word, he leaned in and kissed you again, slow and deep, as if he had all the time in the world to show you just how much he loved you, how much you meant to him.
“You ready?” he asked as he took a step back. You instantly missed his lips on yours, but you nodded nonetheless.
He offered you his hand, and you took it without hesitation.
As you stepped aside, clearly overdressed in this rural neighborhood, the carriage was already waiting, a sleek, black vehicle with the Queen’s crest emblazoned on the side. The horses were well-groomed, their coats gleaming in the sunlight. A stern-looking driver stood by, his expression unreadable as he held the door open for you. With one last deep breath, you and Hongjoong climbed inside, settling onto the plush seats.
The carriage began to move slowly, the sound of the wheels clattering against the cobblestones filled the silence. You glanced at Hongjoong, who was staring out the window, his jaw clenched.
For a while, neither of you spoke. You simply watched the world pass by outside.
Finally, Hongjoong broke the silence, his voice low and contemplative. “Do you remember the first time we met?”
The question caught you off guard, and you turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden change in topic. But as you met his gaze, you could see the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in days.
The sudden shift in conversation caught you off guard, but a small smile crept onto your face as the memory came flooding back. “Of course, I remember,” you replied, chuckling softly. “How could I forget that? Ah, Django… I miss him… And Benji… oh God, my little Benji… I hope they're all well.”
“They are, my love. I'm sure they are.”
And then, as the carriage rounded a final bend, the palace finally came into view. It was a magnificent structure, with its white marble walls glowing in the fading light. The Queen’s residence was every bit as awe-inspiring as the stories had said, its towering spires reaching towards the heavens.
Your breath caught in your throat at the sight, and you felt Hongjoong’s grip on your hand tighten.
As the carriage drew closer, you could see a group of palace guards standing right outside the gates, their armor gleaming under the soft glow of the lanterns that lined the pathway to the grand entrance. The carriage came to a smooth stop, and the driver emerged, opening the door for you and Hongjoong.
You took a deep breath. Hongjoong stepped out first, offering his hand to help you down. As your feet touched the ground, you felt a shiver run down your spine.
The grand doors of the palace opened with a slow, deliberate creak, revealing a tall, elegant woman dressed in a deep burgundy gown. Her presence was commanding, yet her expression was kind as she approached.
“Welcome,” she said, her voice smooth and authoritative. “The Queen has been expecting you.”
You exchanged a quick glance with Hongjoong, who gave you a small nod, before you both followed the woman inside. The interior of the palace was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with high ceilings adorned with various paintings and chandeliers that sparkled like diamonds. The floor beneath your feet was made of polished marble, and the soft click of your shoes were echoing through the halls.
As you walked deeper into the palace, the grandeur only increased. Walls were lined with portraits of past kings and queens, their eyes seeming to follow you as you passed.
Finally, you were led to a pair of ornately carved doors, which the woman pushed open with ease. Beyond them was a grand chamber, bathed in the warm light of a thousand candles. At the far end of the room, seated on a throne that seemed to be carved out of pure gold, was the Queen herself.
She was as regal as you had imagined, with an aura of quiet power that made the room feel smaller, the air more charged. Her hair was a rich, dark color, intricately braided and adorned with jewels that sparkled with every movement. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, fixed on you and Hongjoong as you entered the room.
“Your Majesty,” Hongjoong said, bowing deeply before you had a chance to follow his lead.
The Queen’s gaze softened as she looked at Hongjoong, a small smile playing on her lips. “Rise, Hongjoong,” she said, her voice warm but firm. “It has been a long time.”
Hongjoong straightened up, but his grip on your hand tightened. You could feel the tension in his body as he struggled to maintain his composure. The Queen’s eyes flicked to you, her expression unreadable. “I see you have brought someone with you, Hongjoong. Please, both of you, come closer.”
You nodded, bowing deeply in respect. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Majesty,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the anxiety that almost made you fall ill.
The Queen studied you for a moment before her gaze returned to Hongjoong. “I understand you’ve come to ask for my help?” she said, her voice carrying the weight of authority.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hongjoong replied. “We’ve found ourselves in desperate need of your help. I’ve brought evidence to prove our case, but… there is also something that only Y/N can show you.”
The Queen raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “And what is this evidence?”
Hongjoong hesitated, glancing at you before speaking. “Your Majesty, before I ask Y/N to show you the evidence, I feel it’s important for you to understand her story - our story - in its entirety.”
The Queen nodded, her expression growing more serious as she settled back into her seat, indicating for him to continue.
Hongjoong took a long, deep breath. “Y/N came from a decent, middle-class family. They lived comfortably - not wealthy, but certainly not poor. Her future should have been secure, perhaps with a marriage that would maintain or even improve her standing in society. But things took a dark turn.”
He paused, glancing at you as if seeking your permission to continue. You gave him a small nod, and he went on, his voice heavy with emotion.
“Her father… he made a decision that changed everything. He married her off to a man well below her status - a drunkard, a violent brute. This man - he was no husband. He was a monster. He raped and beat her almost every day, treating her worse than a common servant. She was trapped in a nightmare, until she… until she had to kill him in self defense to save the both of us.”
“And to protect me,” you chimed in, your desperate gaze finding the woman before you before you continued: “J-joong- I mean, Hongjoong took the blame upon himself. He… he was about to be beheaded for a crime he didn't commit, so I… I took it upon myself to release him and flee with him.”
“We are here to plead our innocence, and to ask for a royal pardon of you, your Majesty,” Hongjoong spoke, standing proud and tall beside you, like the safe haven he always was for you.
“A royal pardon, you say?” she asked.
“Yes. Since no one in our town bothered to even investigate, we ask for you to review all evidence and overturn the decision.”
The Queen’s expression remained inscrutable, giving away nothing of her thoughts. Silence stretched in the grand chamber, broken only by the faint crackling of the candles and the distant echo of footsteps in the vast corridors beyond.
At last, the Queen rose from her throne, the jewels in her hair catching the light as she moved. She descended the steps from the throne with grace
“I can see the truth in your eyes, but understand this - granting a royal pardon is not a decision I take lightly. There must be undeniable proof,” she said.
She turned to you, her sharp gaze assessing. “Y/N, I need you to show me the evidence Hongjoong mentioned. Whatever it is, it must be enough to convince me beyond doubt.”
You reached into your cloak, pulling out a stack of worn, yellowed letters tied together with a frayed ribbon. Your hands shook as you untied them, revealing the harsh, almost frenzied handwriting of your late husband. You could feel the Queen’s eyes on you, her gaze intense, as you stepped forward and placed the letters in her outstretched hand.
“These letters,” you said, struggling to keep your voice steady, “are from my deceased husband. In them, he admits to everything - his abuse, his threats, and… even his intent to kill me one day. They are his own words, Your Majesty. Written in moments of drunken rage, or cruel clarity. He was proud of what he did, and he never hid that from anyone. But he was also reckless, and he left these behind, never thinking they might be used against him.”
The Queen’s expression remained unreadable once again as she began to read the letters. The room was silent save for the sound of rustling paper. With each page she turned, you felt your heart pound louder, your hands clasping Hongjoong’s tighter.
After what felt like an eternity, the Queen looked up from the letters. Her gaze was more somber now, tinged with something that might have been pity, or perhaps understanding.
“These letters are indeed compelling,” she said slowly, “but it alone is not enough. The word of a dead man, though through his own admission, cannot fully clear your names. I need more.”
You hesitated, biting your lip. “Your Majesty,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “the whole town knew what was happening. They turned a blind eye, because… because they didn’t want to get involved. I don’t know if I can rely on their testimony. But… my parents, though they looked away for so long, showed great remorse before I fled. They knew what was happening, and they did nothing to stop it. I… though I can never reconcile with them, I have no choice but to trust them this one last time.”
The Queen’s gaze softened slightly as she regarded you. “And you believe they will speak the truth, even now?”
You nodded, though you felt a knot of uncertainty in your stomach. “Yes, Your Majesty. They have to.”
The Queen considered this for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Very well. I will send for your parents and have them brought here to testify. But… there's another thing you want to show me, right?”
You swallowed hard. The letters had made an impact, but the Queen needed more, something undeniable. Your heart raced as you prepared to reveal the evidence that you had hidden for so long, even from yourself.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” you replied, your voice trembling. “There is… one more thing I can show you.”
The Queen's eyes narrowed slightly. You hesitated, glancing at Hongjoong, who was watching you, his eyes telling more than words ever could. His presence gave you the strength to go on.
“My body bears the scars of my husband's cruelty,” you said quietly, “Scars that… tell the story of what he did to me.”
For a small second, something in her eyes flickered - perhaps sympathy, perhaps disgust at the thought of such brutality. But it disappeared as fast as it appeared, and she composed herself quickly. “Very well,” she said, her voice low and measured. “Show me.”
But before you could move, the Queen raised a hand to stop you. “Hongjoong,” she addressed him firmly, “you must wait outside. As you are not married, it would be inappropriate for you to remain here.”
Hongjoong looked like he wanted to protest, but he caught himself, understanding his words would make no impact. He nodded and gave you a reassuring look. “I’ll be right outside,” he said softly. “You’re not alone.”
You nodded, trying to offer him a smile. “Thank you, Hongjoong.”
As he was escorted out of the room, the Queen waited until the door closed before turning back to you. The room felt emptier without Hongjoong by your side, but you tried to stay calm nonetheless.
As he left the room, the Queen gestured to a few of her attendants, and a group of maids quickly approached. Your dress was elegant, more elaborate than you were used to, and you realized you would need help to reveal the scars that were hidden beneath its layers.
The maids moved with practiced efficiency, unfastening the intricate clasps and loosening the delicate fabric of your gown. You felt a wave of vulnerability wash over you as they carefully peeled back the layers, revealing the faint, jagged lines etched into your skin.
The Queen stepped closer, her gaze intense as she examined the marks. She didn’t speak, but her silence was heavy.
After a long moment, she stepped back, her eyes closing for a moment. “These scars… they cannot be ignored.” She turned to one of her attendants, a stern-looking guard who had been standing by the door. “Send for a scrivener,” she commanded. “These letters and the scars on her body must be documented.”
The man bowed and hurried out of the chamber, leaving you alone with the Queen and the maids, who carefully refastened your dress. The Queen’s eyes softened slightly as she looked at you. “Hongjoong has been a long confidante of mine, so naturally, he has my trust” she said, “But there is still a process that must be followed. The evidence will be recorded, and your parents and anyone else willing to testify will be brought before me. Until then, I must uphold the law.”
Once the scrivener arrived and began documenting the evidence, the Queen addressed you again. “You will be given quarters where you can rest,” she said, her tone kind but firm. “And I will ensure that you have everything you need until the trial begins. Be strong, Y/N. The truth will come to light.”
You bowed deeply. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
And with that, the Queen turned and left the chamber, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Now all you could do was wait.
“Y/N,” Hongjoong's voice reached you the moment you stepped into the tower room. But before you could even respond, you found yourself distracted by your surroundings. For a place meant to imprison you, the room was unexpectedly luxurious - far more so than anything you'd ever experienced. The walls were draped with rich tapestries and the bed was covered in soft linens. A large, plush rug covered the stone floor, and the air smelled faintly of lavender.
You paused, blinking in surprise at the sight. This was supposed to be your prison? It surely made you feel out of place, like it belonged to a royal guest chamber rather than a cell.
"Are you alright?" Hongjoong’s voice broke through your thoughts, concern etched in his features as he took a step closer to you. But before you could answer, the door behind you creaked open again, and a small group of maids entered.
“Your bath is ready, my lady,” one of them said with a polite bow, her voice soft yet firm. “Please, come with us.”
My lady?
You looked at Hongjoong, startled and confused. He gave you an encouraging nod, though he looked just as confused as you.
“Go on,” he said gently. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
Reluctantly, you allowed the maids to lead you away, down a small corridor that connected to an adjoining room. The room was even more elaborate, with a large copper tub set in the center, already filled with steaming water that scented the air with rose petals and herbs. Thick, fluffy towels were neatly stacked nearby, and a selection of fine soaps and oils were arranged on a small table besides.
They helped you quickly undress and step into the bath. The warm water immediately melted away the tension from your muscles. As they poured fragrant oils into the water, your eyes closed and you sank deeper into the water. The maids worked in silence, their hands gentle as they washed your hair and scrubbed your skin with fine soaps. Eventually, the bath was over, and you were lifted from the water, wrapped in a thick, warm towel. The maids dried you off and led you to a big mirror where they brushed your hair and dressed you in a white nightgown that felt impossibly soft against your skin.
Once they were done, they stepped back, quietly observing you. You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself. The nightgown was simple yet elegant, the white fabric almost transparent against your skin. It flowed down to your ankles, delicate lace trimming the neckline and sleeves. It made you look delicate and almost… sensual.
Still deep in thought, you were guided back to the main room where Hongjoong was waiting. As you stepped into the room, you saw him pacing near the window, lost in thought. The moment he heard your footsteps, he turned around, and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw you.
For a long, long moment, he simply stared at you, his eyes wide as they traveled over your figure. His usual calm and collected demeanor seemed to crumble as a faint blush colored his cheeks. He quickly looked away, his jaw tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.
“You-” Hongjoong began, his voice strained as he took a step closer, his gaze flicking back to you before quickly averting again. “You look… beautiful.” His words were quiet, and you could see the internal battle playing out within him as he tried to keep his emotions in check.
You could see the way his eyes darkened whenever he sneaked a glance at you, something that made your heart skip a beat. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but was holding himself back. The air between you was thick with unspoken tension.
Hongjoong cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure, but the way he avoided your gaze told you that he was struggling. “I… I didn't mean to stare,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. "I just… You-”
You took a step closer. Hongjoong's eyes snapped to yours, and for a moment, you saw a flash of something raw and intoxicating in his expression - something that sent a shiver down your spine, something that made your mouth dry and your heart beat faster.
“Hongjoong,” you said softly, the sound of his name breaking the silence that had settled between you. “I'm fine. You can-”
“Sir, your bath is prepared as well,” one of the maids said with a polite bow. “Please allow us to assist you.”
Hongjoong stiffened slightly at the offer, clearly taken aback. “Uh, that's not necessary,” he stammered, his usual confidence faltering as a blush crept up his neck. “I can manage on my own.”
The maid, seemingly unfazed, simply nodded. “Of course, sir. But if you require anything, we will be right outside.” With that, she and the others gracefully exited the room, leaving the two of you alone once more.
Hongjoong let out a quiet sigh of relief, running a hand through his hair as he glanced back at you. “Well, I suppose I should... take that bath now,” he said.
You nodded, offering him a small smile. “I'll wait here,” you said softly, trying to ease the tension in the room.
He stood there for another moment, as if he wanted to say something more, but instead, he simply gave you a nod before retreating into the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Desperately, you tried to distract yourself from the fact that the man of your dreams was completely bare just a few feet away. But just after a few minutes, you had to admit that it was pointless, and so, your feet took you to the bathroom once again.
You hesitated outside the door, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew this was a bad idea, that you were crossing a line, but curiosity got the better of you. Slowly, you pushed the door open just enough to slip inside.
Hongjoong was sitting in the tub, his back to the door, the water lapping gently around his figure. Steam filled the room, the scent of the same herbs and soaps you previously used in the air. His head was slightly bowed, his eyes closed, and he seemed lost in thought, completely unaware of your presence.
For a moment, you just stood there, silently watching him. His usually sharp features were entirely relaxed, his shoulders sacked as he soaked in the water. You couldn’t help but admire the way the droplets clung to his skin, the way the muscles in his back moved with each breath he took.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you silently crossed the room. The soft pads of your feet made no noise on the stone floor as you approached the tub. Without thinking, you reached for a cloth that was hanging nearby, dipping it into the warm water.
He still hadn’t noticed you as you knelt beside the tub. Your hand hovered for a moment before you gathered the courage to press the cloth gently against his back.
Hongjoong stiffened immediately, his eyes snapping open as he realized someone was there. He turned his head sharply, his eyes wide as he met your gaze.
“Y/N?” His voice was breathless, and he immediately tried to shield his naked body from you. “What are you doing?”
You bit your lip, trying to fight back the blush that was creeping up your cheeks. “I thought… I thought I’d help you relax,” you said softly, your voice trembling with nerves.
Hongjoong’s gaze flicked down to the cloth in your hand and then back to your face. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the way his breathing had quickened, the way his muscles tensed under your touch.
“Y/N… you don’t have to…” He trailed off, his voice faltering as you began to gently scrub his back, your movements slow and careful. You could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away under your touch.
He let out a shaky breath, his head dropping forward again as he allowed himself to relax. “You don't have to do this,” he murmured, though he didn't sound entirely convinced either.
You smiled a little, continuing your work, the cloth gliding over his skin in soothing circles. “Maybe not,” you whispered, “but I wanted to.”
Hongjoong’s breathing was uneven, each exhale shaky as you worked your way across his shoulders, the cloth tracing the lines of his muscles. You could see the way his body tensed, his fists clenching against the edge of the tub as if he was trying to control himself.
“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, almost pleading. “W-we should really stop… I-”
You gently pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him almost instantly. “Hongjoong,” you whispered, “I want to… I’m ready.”
His eyes found yours, wide with surprise and something else - something deeper. His gaze searched yours, as if he was trying to find any hint of uncertainty, any reason to stop this before it went too far.
But you didn’t waver. You had been through so much, had faced so many demons from your past, and now, standing here with him, you felt a sense of clarity you hadn’t in a long time. You wanted this, wanted him - wanted to break down the walls you had built so carefully around your heart.
Slowly, you leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, a shiver running through his body. You could feel his resistance, the way he fought to hold himself back, but there was also something in the way he leaned into your touch, a silent plea for more.
Your lips traveled from his temple to his ear, brushing against the sensitive skin as you whispered, “I know you try to hold yourself back for my sake. But I’m not scared, Joongie. Not anymore.”
Hongjoong’s eyes were locked on yours, the intensity in his gaze making your breath hitch. Without breaking eye contact, he stood, water cascading off his naked, sculpted body, droplets glistening on his skin in the soft, dim light of the room.
Before you could say anything, his arms wrapped around you, lifting you effortlessly from where you stood. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you close, his wet skin soaking through your clothes as he carried you out the room.
He reached the bed and gently laid you down on the soft sheets, the fabric cool against your heated skin. You looked up at him, your heart racing as he knelt beside you, droplets of water still clinging to his skin, his hair damp and falling into his eyes. He was completely bare, his body on full display, and yet his focus was entirely on you.
Slowly, he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His hand slid up your side, fingers grazing your ribs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing yours, fighting your own in a battle of dominance you quickly lost.
Hongjoong’s hand moved under your gown, and with a gentle tug, he began to lift it, his fingertips brushing against your skin as he pulled it over your head. The cool air hit your newly exposed skin, making you shiver, but the heat of his gaze warmed you instantly. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, his eyes so full of love and lust it made you ache.
“You’re so, so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. He leaned in again, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses as he made his way to your collarbone. Each kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt him explore your body with his lips, his hands, his entire being.
He moved lower, his hands sliding over your skin, slowly. You shivered under his touch, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.
His hands moved delicately, tracing the lines of your body, exploring every curve, every dip, every inch of your skin. He was in no rush, savoring it all; every moment, every touch, every breath you took. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, it was as if he was worshiping you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him.
“Y/N,” he whispered against your lips, his voice shaky, filled with emotion. “I want this to be perfect for you… for us.”
You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your eyes meeting his with a soft, reassuring smile. “It already is,” you murmured, your voice filled with the same emotion you saw reflected in his eyes. “You make everything perfect for me, Joongie.”
He smiled, a tender, almost shy smile that made your heart flutter. “I’ve wanted this for so long… wanted you for so long,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“I know,” you whispered back, your fingers brushing through his damp hair. “I’ve wanted this too… I’ve wanted you.”
His breath caught in his throat, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more intense. “I’m scared… of hurting you,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “Of moving too fast.”
You shook your head gently, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “You could never hurt me,” you assured him softly. “I trust you, Hongjoong. I’m ready… because I know these hands of yours could never hurt me like he did.”
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady himself. When he opened them again, they were filled with an intensity that took your breath away. “I want to love you… properly, Y/N.”
You smiled, your heart swelling with love and adoration for the man above you. “Then love me, Hongjoong,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. “Love me the way you’ve always wanted to. Make me yours.”
He chuckled, before slowly lowering himself into you. “Silly woman. You've been mine the moment I met you.”
If anyone would've told you you'd ever see your parents on their knees, begging for mercy in front of you, you would've laughed right in their face.
But here you were. Witnessing it at this very moment.
Well, technically it wasn't in front of you - but the Queen, who was looking at them with intense, cold eyes.
You stood to the side, Hongjoong right beside you, close enough to witness every detail, yet far enough to keep the emotional distance you needed to not break down in tears.
The Queen's voice cut through the silence. “You have been called before the court to deliver your testimony. If you lie, it will have severe consequences,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We have gathered here today because a man was killed. Without any evidence or witness testimony, it was decided that Kim Hongjoong was the one responsible and would be hanged for it. Now, after careful investigation, I and everyone else here is fairly confident that this is not what happened. The man who died abused his wife L/N Y/N for close to a decade. And everyone supposedly knew. On the night of the alleged crime, it is to be assumed he came home to beat her once again. Kim Hongjoong was just there at the wrong time. Y/N had to kill her husband in self defense to protect the both of them,” the Queen continued.
The whole room was deadly silent. Only the occasional sobs of your mother could be heard.
“Now I ask of you to truthfully answer my questions”, she said, looking at your parents directly, “is it true that you knew your daughter was getting abused?”
The silence that followed the Queen's question was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Your father kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his hands trembling slightly as he knelt beside your mother.
You remembered the last time you saw him. The moment where he apologized, where you saw the pain in his eyes. But would he also admit to his faults in public?
The Queen's eyes bore into them. She was not just asking for a simple answer; she was demanding the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And there was no escaping it.
Your father was the first to speak, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and strained. “We… we knew,” he confessed, the words stumbling out of him like a boulder finally giving way to gravity. “We knew what was happening, Your Majesty.”
A collective gasp rippled through the courtroom, but you remained still, your heart pounding in your chest as the truth you had been denied for so long was finally laid bare. Your mother’s sobs grew louder, her hands covering her face as if to shield herself from the reality of what was happening.
The Queen’s gaze did not waver. “And yet, you did nothing to help her?” she pressed, her tone hardening. “You allowed your daughter to suffer for years, without lifting a finger to protect her? Knowing that one day she could possibly be killed?”
Your mother finally lifted her head, her face streaked with tears. “We… we were afraid,” she stammered, her voice shaking with emotion. “We didn’t know what to do… We thought… we thought it would be worse if we intervened.”
A bitter taste filled your mouth as you listened to their excuses. They had left you to fend for yourself in a nightmare, and had turned their backs on you when you needed them the most.
Even after you tried for months, years to come to terms with their betrayal, it still hurt deeply.
The Queen narrowed her eyes, but her expression gave nothing away. “You thought it would be worse?” she repeated, “Worse than watching your daughter endure unimaginable suffering? Worse than allowing her to be beaten, night after night, while you did nothing?”
Your mother’s tears flowed uncontrollably now, her sobs wracking her body as she nodded, unable to form any coherent response. Your father remained silent, his head hanging low, as if the weight of his guilt was too much to bear.
The Queen’s gaze flicked to you for a moment, her expression softening just slightly as she took in the sight of you standing there, silent and strong beside Hongjoong.
This wasn't the first time you saw that expression on her face, and for a second you were left wondering if, maybe, she understood your pain. Really understood.
From woman to woman, from victim to victim.
“Your Majesty,” your father spoke again, his voice hoarse with emotion. “We… we failed her. We know that now. We were wrong, and we are deeply sorry.”
For a second, his eyes found yours. And though you knew you could never forgive them, you saw nothing but love and guilt in your father's eyes.
Maybe in another life, where you as a woman would have more rights, you all could have been a happy, normal family.
Maybe.
“But… There is one last thing I want to do for my daughter,” he whispered. “Your Majesty, if I may…?”
Her gaze flicked towards you. You clutched Hongjoong’s hands tighter, before giving her a final nod.
“Go on,” she said.
Your father hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage, before speaking again. “I brought them here, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “The rest of the people who stayed quiet. I brought all of them here today.”
The Queen raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between your father and you. The courtroom seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her decision. Your eyes widened and you immediately felt a lump form in your throat.
Finally, the Queen nodded, “Bring them in.”
She turned towards the grand double doors at the back of the room, and with a slight motion of her hand, the guards opened them. One by one, a dozen people began to file in, their faces pale and solemn. You recognized each one of them - neighbors, former friends, even the local shopkeepers who had all turned a blind eye to your bruises and hushed cries for help. They looked as though they were walking to their own execution, eyes downcast, hands desperately clutching their clothes.
As they entered, they arranged themselves in a line before you, and then, as if guided by an unspoken command, they all began to bow. The sight of it - the people who had once ignored your pain now bowing before you, in front of the Queen herself - struck you like a blow to the heart.
You tightened your grip on Hongjoong’s hand, your breath hitching as the overwhelming weight of the moment began to settle over you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and no matter how much you tried to hold them back, they eventually began to spill over, silently tracing lines down your cheeks. Hongjoong’s hand remained warm and steady in yours, his presence grounding you as you struggled to process the scene before you.
Slowly, an elderly woman who had been your neighbor for years, stepped forward. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Y/N… we have no excuse for what we did, or rather, what we didn’t do. We failed you, just as your parents did. We saw the signs, but we chose to look away, to pretend it wasn’t our business. And for that… we are truly sorry.”
As everyone in line took their turn to speak, offering their apologies, their regrets, and their shame, the emotions you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. You wept openly now, the sound of your sobs filling the otherwise silent courtroom. These were the apologies you had never expected to hear, the recognition of your suffering that had been denied to you for so many years.
Hongjoong wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you leaned into him, burying your face in his neck. The tears kept coming, and you let them.
After each person spoke to you, they all remained bowed, waiting for your response. The Queen, too, seemed to be waiting, her gaze fixed on you.
You took a shaky breath, wiping your tears with the back of your hand as you tried to find the right words. But there were no words that could truly capture the enormity of what you were feeling. So instead, you simply nodded, acknowledging their apologies once and for all.
“Thank you,” you managed to whisper, your voice raw and hoarse. “Thank you for saying what I needed to hear… even if it’s too late.”
There was a collective sigh of relief from the crowd, but the weight of the moment still pressed down heavily on you. The Queen stepped forward, her presence immediately commanding everyone's attention. “You have all acknowledged your failings here today,” she said, “A man has died, and even if Y/N pulled the trigger, everyone here knows that at the end of the day, she remains an innocent woman. A woman who had to save herself because no one else did.”
As her final words settled over the courtroom, you felt a deep, heavy relief wash over you. The people who had failed you had spoken their apologies, and though it could never erase the pain you endured, the recognition of your suffering soothed your wounded soul.
Hongjoong kept a protective arm around you as you walked outside. The air outside the courtroom was crisp, the world feeling both too small and too vast after what had just happened. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, when you heard a familiar voice calling your name.
“Y/N!”
You turned just in time to see your sister Miyeon rushing towards you, tears already streaming down her face. Her belly was still slightly rounded from her recent pregnancy, and in her arms, she cradled her newborn, your tiny niece or nephew, who was bundled up warmly against her chest.
Miyeon threw her arms around you, careful not to hurt her child, pulling you into a tight embrace as she sobbed uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out between sobs, her voice filled with guilt and anguish. “I didn’t know... I didn’t know everything that was happening. If I had known, I would have been there for you. I should have been there for you!”
You held her tightly, your own tears spilling over once more as you buried your face in her shoulder. “Miyeon, it’s okay,” you whispered, even as your voice trembled. “I know you would’ve helped me if you could. You were far away, and you had no idea. You were also preparing to be a mother… I never wanted to burden you with my pain.”
“But you’re my sister,” she cried, pulling back to look at you with red, puffy eyes. “I should have been here. I should have done something, anything, to protect you. How could I have let this happen to you?”
You shook your head. “You couldn’t have known, Miyeon. None of this was your fault. I don’t blame you, not even for a second.”
Before you could respond, her husband, Gikwang, who had been standing a few steps behind her, joined the two of you. His expression was filled with compassion and guilt as he handed you a small, trembling bundle. “We… we brought something for you,” he said gently. “One of Hongjoong’s neighbors found him in his house and thought you’d want him back.”
Your breath caught in your throat as he placed the tiny, trembling creature in your arms.
“Benji!” you cried out.
The moment he was in your arms, the dam you had been holding back broke entirely. You clutched him to you, your sobs echoing through the quiet corridor as you cried even harder than you just moments before.
Hongjoong stood beside you, his hand on your back, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears as he watched you cradle Benji. Miyeon wrapped her arms around both you and Benji, and for a long, long while, you simply stood there, the three of you wrapped in a comforting embrace. As you finally pulled back, wiping your tears away, you looked at Miyeon and Hongjoong, then down at Benji, who was now purring softly in your arms, and also at Gikwang and their newborn child.
With a trembling but genuine smile, you whispered, "Thank you, Miyeon. Thank you for being here. And thank you for bringing him back to me."
Miyeon nodded, her own smile breaking through her tears. "I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. No matter what. You and I will keep in contact, right? You'll come visit me and I'll visit you, right? And… and you and Hongjoong will be happy together, right?”
As you wiped the last of your tears away, you gave Miyeon a firm nod. “Yes,” you replied, your voice steady for the first time in what felt like an eternity. “We will keep in contact. I’ll visit you, and you can come visit us. And yes… Hongjoong and I will be happy together. We’ll find a way to move forward.”
Miyeon smiled through her tears, her grip on her newborn tightening slightly as she nodded back. “Good,” she whispered, her voice full of emotion. “That’s all I want for you, Y/N. To be happy. You deserve that more than anything.”
Gikwang placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. “You’re strong, Y/N,” he said softly. “And even if your parents and Jisoo aren't included, you have us that care about you, no matter how far apart we may be.”
You took a long, deep breath before looking down at Benji, who was still purring contentedly in your arms, then up at Hongjoong, who met your gaze with a look of unwavering support and love.
“Let’s go,” Hongjoong murmured, his hand gently squeezing yours. “It’s time to head home.”
You nodded. Turning back to your sister, you reached out and gave her one last, lingering hug. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised, “until then, take care. And also of your bab-”
“Jihoon. His name is Jihoon,” she whispered, carefully cradling the baby in her arms.
You smiled warmly at her and her child. “Take care of Jihoon too, okay?”
With that, you and Hongjoong turned and began to walk away, Benji still cradled safely in your arms.
“Hey, Joongie?” you asked.
“Hm?”
“Do you think Django is doing well?
He laughed. “Oh, I know he is. That damn goat is probably terrorizing the whole town by now.”
My Dearest Husband,
I hope this letter finds you well and you are not too weary from your travels. Though I'm proud the Queen has once again asked for one of your dresses, the house feels a little quieter without you here, though Miyeon, Gikwang, and little Jihoon are doing their best to fill the void. You wouldn’t believe how much he’s grown since you last saw him – he’s already running around like he owns the place. God, I’ve had to take more breaks than usual chasing after him. I’m sure you can guess why.
Miyeon has been a great help, though, and Gikwang even managed to fix the squeaky gate that’s been bothering you for months. We spent yesterday walking along the shore, Jihoon squealing with delight every time the waves came in. It made me think of how much you would’ve enjoyed the sight with him together. The sea is as beautiful as ever, though not nearly as beautiful as it is when I get to share it with you.
Oh, our little shop is thriving more than I could’ve imagined. Your teachings on sewing have paid off wonderfully, and the people can’t seem to get enough of the dresses I make. I'm so honored, though I still try and convince them yours are so much better. They keep saying how elegant the stitching is and how there’s something special about each piece. I always smile and tell them it’s because they were made with love – a love you taught me with every thread and needle. Though I do admit, I’ve had to slow down a bit these days. The shop misses you, too, but it’s running smoothly, and I can’t wait for you to see how well it's been going.
I know you were worried about leaving me alone, but honestly, my love, you overthink too much. I think you forget sometimes just how capable I am. I may be waddling more than walking at this point, but I can still manage just fine, especially with Miyeon here to keep an eye on me. But I can’t help but smile when I think about how you’re already fretting over our little one, even before she’s born. You and your little princess – I can just see it now, the way you’ll spoil her rotten with all those tiny dresses you’ve been making. If she’s anything like her father, she’ll be quite the charmer, and I can’t wait to see you two together, hand in hand, as you show her the world.
She’s been kicking more these past few days, and it hurts like crazy. I can't wait to finally meet her. I’m already dreaming of the day when we’ll finally get to meet her. I know you’re just as eager as I am – I can see it in the way you smile whenever you talk about her. Our little princess. I think she knows, too, because she always seems to calm down when I think about you.
So, my love, don’t worry too much about us. We’re safe, happy, and counting down the days until you’re back home. The sea is waiting, the shop is thriving, and most importantly, your little family is here, eagerly anticipating your return. I’ll keep everything running smoothly until you’re back – though I must admit, I’m looking forward to resting when our little one decides it’s time to make her grand entrance.
Take care of yourself, and don’t let business keep you away for too long. We miss you dearly.
With all my love,
Your Wife
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