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breezybangtanbebe · 11 months ago

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Favorite Positions: Monsta X OT7

A/N: this one is short horny drabble. Monsta X and what I believe their ideal sexual positions are.

2.4k words

Hyunwoo: Missionary

Our boy Shownu is a lover. He's passionate and he wants to connect with you in every way he can as he slides his dick in and out of you slowly.

He wants you on your back, preferably in the middle of his bed with your legs wrapped around his waist. A perfect view of you laying beneath him, gazing up at him in submission always made his dick thump with need.

He'll take his time with you though, kissing you tenderly, stroking you slow and intentionally as your moans filled his bedroom.

Then gradually, another part of him takes over. Like a man shifting into a beast under the beams of a full moon, Hyunwoo's soft dominance morphs into a mind-numbing monster of pleasure.

He keeps you planted beneath him, pinning your hands above your head to keep you from scratching him up too much.

Despite him being a lowkey masochist and loving when you scratched, bit, or slapped him in the heat of the moment, he wasn't a fan of explaining the welts and scars from your nails to the stylists during fittings.

Wonho: From the side

This man is brutal when he has you where he wants you, and it's usually by surprise. Laying with him unsuspectingly as the little spoon on either the bed or the couch, Hoseok will grind his dick against your ass, making you aware of its condition as he kisses and licks your neck.

His hands will be all over you, squeezing your breast, skimming over your hips, tucking beneath your panties (if any) to toy with your pussy as you turned your head to kiss him.

You're already palming at his dick, stroking it so he groans against your lips with a smirk.

"Put it in.." he rasps, the gruffness of his voice making you obey him without hesitation.

His dick slides in the way a key slots into a lock made to fit it, and you both moan in tandem at how good it felt to be connected.

He moves slowly, flexing his hips to ease the tip of his dick deeper inside of you.

You lift your leg and it's kept there as Hoseok reaches underneath it to play with your clit as he went harder.

His buff bicep presses against your cheek as he held you in a gentle sleeper hold, fucking you harder with his fingers strumming over your clit faster and faster until spurts of release shoot out around his veiny shaft.

Minhyuk: On top with his hands around your throat

Our sweet Minny is a sadist. So the position doesn't matter to him.

But...

There were those moments when he had you folded like a pretzel, knees in your chest or bending over his shoulders, when Minhyuk liked to snake his hand up and between your breasts until it was clasping around your throat.

He gives you a gentle and unassuming squeeze, taking a second to glance down and watch his dick hammer into you. And when he hits you deeply, a strangled moan escapes you, and it's abruptly extinguished when Minhyuk's grasp on your throat tightens. Your eyes roll back and short sharp gasps counter the sounds of your wetness being pounded.

That always made his dick excruciatingly hard.

Kihyun: Reverse cowgirl

Kihyun is a little bit of a sadist too bit but he also enjoys fawning over you and your body. After a long day, he prefers to end it with you in his lap. Your back against his chest and with your head leaned back against his shoulder.

He hugs your waist, peppering little kisses against your neck and along the shell of your ear. He whispers as his hand explores your body.

"I want you baby...."

Delicate touches slip beneath your clothes, lifting your shirt from your body and skimming over your tummy until his hands nestle between your thighs.

"Take it off.."

You comply and once you're naked and Kihyun has his pants and underwear down and out of the way, you sink onto him with your hands on his knees for support.

And then you move.

Slowly at first, winding your hips in a circular motion in a tease as you fucked yourself on his length. Kihyun holds you gently at your waist, resisting the temptation to stroke you back.

His gaze is intent and focused on where he enters you, his breathing slow and his groans of approval unbridled.

Naturally, he wants to dominate and take his frustrations out on the softness of your heat.

But he also wants to watch you squeezing his dick from behind, admiring your ass and the curve of your waist as you bounce back on him.

"Mmmhmm...there you go...just like that.."

He slurs slightly as his jaw hangs, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth with his brow furrowed.

You were now bouncing on his dick and moaning senselessly to the ceiling. Head tipped back and body moving of its own volition as you used his dick to get you off.

He knows you needed this as much as he did and he allows you this moment to enjoy him without interference. Especially when he can tell you're about to cum, and this was when his grip on your waist tightens to keep you steady as you slammed down on him. He grunts in time with your rhythm, now biting his lip and breathing sharply through his nose.

He grins wolfishly at the lewd and wet sounds your pussy makes when you cream all over him, chuckling teasingly as you cried out.

"Yes baby..yes..." he groans, his smile fading as you slowed your pace from exhaustion. Your arms and legs were shaking by now and Kihyun huffed in amusement.

Wordlessly, he leans up on his knees and shifts your positions so that your front is pressed down against the couch to finish you with his hand around your throat.

Hyungwon: Ride him, he's lazy and likes to see your face

Mans be tired, ok?

He works out every day. He dances his ass off. He's tall, so you know his knees and back be aching.

And yes, when he has sex, Hyungwon goes all in. I get the feeling that he is a long and slow stroker.

But...

After being the full-time Monsta that he is, sometimes Hyungwon just wants to lay back and let you do the work. Literally.

"Go ahead..." he says, tipping his chin at you encouragingly as he laid back against the pillows. He relaxes his head on his hands with his darkened gaze on you and your body.

You're shamelessly nude and straddling Hyungwon's waist with your hands resting on his chest. You can't help but squeeze the perfectly sculpted muscles before grinding your body forward.

His dick was already nestled deep inside of you, the tip pressing against your cervix with even the slightest movement.

You winced at the flurry of pain and pleasure from the pressure of him impaling you from this angle, and Hyungwon kept his eyes fixed on your expression.

Opposite of Kihyun's fave, Hyungwon loved it when you hopped on top of him and rode his dick. Loved to watch you circle your hips and rise on your knees to slide up and down his shaft like a pole.

He lies with his knees bent, his legs spread, and his feet planted into the mattress for balance. For a good while, he doesn't touch you. He keeps his hands behind his head, and would sometimes buck his hips to stroke you back when you seemed to be getting tired.

When he does, you ride him harder as if it were a competition.

It lowkey was.

And Hyungwon chuckles breathily when your determination knitted in your brow melts to a relenting expression of surrender, he leans abruptly to cage you in his arms. Locking you in place, Hyungwon fucks you harder so that it's nearly impossible for you to catch your breath.

You cling to him, digging your nails into his shoulders as he takes control. When you cum, it's loud and extremely wet since he was giving all g-spot stimulation from this angle.

When he cums, it's deep inside of you.

Every time.

Thank God for condoms.

Jooheon: Anywhere, anytime. Doesn't care about the position

Honey isn't picky. He likes every position that involved his dick inside of you. On top. On bottom. From the back. From the side. Whichever way you wanted it was how he wanted to give it to you.

He is, however, extremely spontaneous. So try not to be surprised when you end up accosted by him in a dark corner or his upstairs walk-in closet.

You were just minding your business in there, plotting on what hoodie or shirt to steal when the sound of him closing the door has you jumping out of your bones.

"Boo!" He says with a smile and with one of his favorite shirts clutched against your chest, your heart flutters at the deepness of your man's voice.

"Shit!" You exclaim, turning on your heels just he's stalking towards you. You were caught red-handed and attempted to hide the shirt behind your back.

"Mmmhmm..." Jooheon smirks handsomely at your expression and you smile innocently.

"H..Hey...Whatchu doing here?" You ask and Jooheon perks his brow.

"What are you doing?" He follows up, steadily backing you deeper into the closet. You shrug nonchalantly and stumble when your back meets the wall. Jooheon stops an inch shy of you and huffs humorously through his nose with a dimpled smirk.

"Um.." you begin, your eyes dropping to his lips as the shadow of his proximity darkened. He smelled amazing despite him being fresh off from a day of dancing and working out. The scent of his sweat mixed with his everyday fragrance was addictive.

Jooheon smirks at your silence before crashing his lips into yours. The kiss is ardent and sloppy as if this were all he could think about doing all day. He makes a growling sound from deep in his throat, almost in relief as his plushy lips dominate your mouth.

Your eyes widened on contact, mostly out of shock since he'd snuck up on you. They flutter shut gradually though when you tasted the sweet flavor of candy on his determined tongue. You moan into his mouth, reaching up to tangle and tug at the back of his head.

Jooheon didn't give a damn about you stealing his clothes. Being a brand ambassador, his closet was full of shit he didn't wear, and most of it looked better on you anyway.

He was just happy to have you here alone. His dick had been straining against his clothes all day, which was difficult to conceal in sweats.

He needed you.

Without asking, Jooheon reaches to yank your shorts down your legs and you let him. Seconds later he was pulling himself from his pants, not even bothering to push them down further than his thighs.

He lifts your leg and hikes it over his hip, shoving the blunt thickness of his dick against your entrance.

Both of you had to adjust your positions for optimal comfort, Jooheon pinning you to the wall to keep you in place.

You kept your elbows on his shoulders with your hands in his hair, holding on for dear life as he drilled into you.

Jooheon was good for a quickie since he was a man with so much repressed energy. If he couldn't release it all on stage or in practice, you were his most preferred outlet.

Changkyun: Backshots. Duh

"What's my name?"

"What's my fucking name?..."

The audacity of him to assume you could even say your own damn name right now. You couldn't say anything from the way he was handling you.

Face pressed against the cool glass of the mirror, bed, and floor.

Anywhere he could pin you so that you couldn't move.

Changkyun is an introvert 100%. He's not a man that says much if he doesn't have much to say. And that pretty much applied to when he was horny. He used his words only to command you into his favorite position.

Ass up and back arched so that he could watch it bounce back against his dick.

Changkyun isn't gentle either. He wants you to feel every inch of him and he wants it to hurt a little. His fingers will almost always leave a mark on your waist or ass cheeks from squeezing you harshly.

The tip of his dick will always hit you right where it needed to and the sharp delicious sting against your cervix repeatedly always had you shaking.

He's very active and in shape, which meant his stamina was unmatched. Never expect a quickie from this man.

"Don't make me ask again.." his gruff tone has a hint of a threat in it and you turn your head promptly to answer. His name comes out amid a drawn-out moan of ecstasy, intelligible and strained. But it's enough to feed Changkyun's ego and he smirks with accomplishment as he lifts his leg and plants his foot on the bed.

"That's right..." he exhales, tipping his head back and pounding into you harder. His tongue hangs from his mouth as if he could taste you in the air. It was indeed thick and humid from the sex.

He drops his chin to watch your opaque creaminess coating his dick the more he drives his hips into you. You'd cum a couple of times already and the evidence dripped down your inner thighs.

He loved the sound of it, squelching and mixing around his dick.

"Oh..baby....fuck..." he'd groan, crinkling his brow and licking the sweat from his upper lip. His jaw then goes slack, his nostrils flaring in time with his panted breaths the closer his nut inched forward.

"Fuck!" You both cried out when Changkyun slammed deep into you, only to pull himself out so that he could jerk himself the rest of the way. He spurts his seed all over the front of your pussy and ass.

You wheezed an exalting breath against the sheets, relieved and slightly disappointed at the same time.

The feeling of him dripping over your skin is the last thing on your mind once he pushes his dick back inside of you. It's unexpected and you mewl at the feeling of being full of him again.

Changkyun was absolutely the breed of man who could cum and still be hard. His refractory period was nonexistent and before you can catch your breath, Changkyun is pushing your butt down to lay flat.

His hips are back to doing their dirty work.

#changkyun #monsta x smut #hyungwon #jooheon #kihyun #minhyuk #shownu #hyunwoo #wonho #Spotify

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iibonniee · 1 year ago

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A Quick Visit | Lee Minhyuk

Pairing: Lee Minhyuk x Reader

Genre: Smut, military!minhyuk

Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem receiving), angst, fluff

Rating: R

Word Count: 12k

Summary: After hearing little from her lover, he decides to give her a late-night surprise. His promise to make it up to her kept her up through the night until she could confront him in the morning.

Masterlist

It never dawned on Y/N that a lover could become a stranger just as quickly as a friend could become a stranger. Whenever distance was thrown into the mix, schedules often became too busy to keep up with simple things, such as a text back.

This fact hung heavily on Y/N’s heart as Minhyuk’s enlistment approached. Her world was suspended, dangerously swinging between past warmth and future uncertainty. The impending distance, the changing schedules, and the quiet unease that unfolded in her thoughts were a recipe for feared isolation.

Minhyuk, however, was well aware of the turbulence shaking her spirit. He could see the pain reflected in her eyes, hear the worry lacing her laughter, and sense the tension in her every touch. So, with a heart full of assurance and lips armed with loving words, he chose to bring her comfort.

“Listen,” he would gently coax, cradling her face in his steady hands, urging her eyes to lock with his. “We’ve weathered more than distance before,” he would assert, his gaze steady, voice firm yet soothing. “Our connection isn’t just measured in miles or minutes; it’s held together by something stronger, something untouchable - our love.”

His words, his steadfast belief in their unbreakable bond, were a bandage for her fears. The understanding in his eyes, his unwavering confidence in their relationship gave her a sense of peace that the tickling hands of worry struggled to displace.

She never felt wrong in her life.

As the cold dawn of Minhyuk’s enlistment day dawned, Y/N found herself standing alongside the other members of his group, their collective grief palpable in the heavy air. The sun shining above them gave her no warmth — one she needed so much but refused to offer such grace.

The stark reality of their possibly changing relationship weighed heavily on her, feeling more real and definite than any of his soothing words of assurance. Minhyuk’s farewell was marked by a kiss. Their lips met in a fragile dance, full of promise but underscored by the bitter pang of impending separation. A promise pronounced in whispers followed that emotional kiss.

“I will message and call whenever I can,” he promised, his voice as steady as the heartbeat Y/N felt against his chest. “You will be the first person to hear from me.”

He’d text and call when he could, semi-keeping to a promise he had sealed off with a kiss. Slowly, those texts and calls grew to almost nothing; his voice on the other end turned from highly expected music into hope. His silence roared louder than the busy chaos of the world and bustling city life, reminding her each day of the gaping distance between them. The absent hum of his voice in the echo of their shared home was a cruel reminder of his unkept promise.

His empty assurances seemed like beautiful lies that momentarily conjured an illusion of hope. Realization washed over her in waves, each more painful than the last. The familiar tang of disappointment filled her mouth, more bitter than any foreboding doubt she had ever held. Despite his comforting words and promises, it seemed she had misplaced her trust. It was a harsh lesson in reality, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the gap between Minhyuk’s words and his actions.

She tried to ignore how her heart broke when she heard of his first appearance since he enlisted. How her teary eyes that begged to burst would only lead to a shaky blur of colors on her phone screen, a nightmare unfolding in high definition. Seeing him as she did, standing in the middle of his adoring crowd, the same fans who were now privileged to his time and attention, while she, the keeper of his whispered dreams and knelt promises, was left to glean his whereabouts from impersonal news updates.

His oblivious smiles and joy were like perfectly timed daggers to her bleeding heart, each moment of rich laughter and vivid enjoyment amplifying her agony. The jarring contrast between the joyous Minhyuk in the photos and the silent Minhyuk in her messages was a brutal, unvoiced slap of betrayal.

Her hands quivered, the phone screen dancing dangerously under wet eyelashes as her promised-to-be-steadied heart clattered down an abyss, fragmenting with every bump of the descent. His absence had been a lingering wound, raw and tender. Still, his blatant disregard — veiled under joyous fancon celebrations — was an insidious poison, slowly dulling her senses until only anguish echoed in hollow places.

Each image of a laughing Minhyuk, each snippet of his well-chosen remarks were hideous amplifications of his silence towards her. The vacant space she had reserved for his communication, his comforting words had now become a desolate island of unvoiced sorrows, painfully reflecting his undelivered promises. Yet, his presence and joy elsewhere signaled that he held time — time that he chose not to share with her, time that she desperately wished to be a part of.

The added knowledge that he held free hours unspoken to her carved the wound deeper, sparking an anguish that scorched through her veins, branding her heart with the bitter aftertaste of betrayal. She had believed they shared a common longing in his silence, but he had etched a cavernous rift between them in his actions. The stark revelation shattered her hope, leaving her grappling with the shards of her trust and their shattered relationship.

That night, the moon was her helping friend. Keeping her company where her heart didn’t. Her mind was a mess of self-hatred and self-doubt mixed into one grueling nightmare that refused to let her sleep. The silence of their apartment, once filled with his laughter and murmurs of love, was now a grim orchestra of her sobs and whispered grievances. The eerie glow of the moonlight, seeping softly through the cracks of the blinds, became the sole witness of her despair, casting long, lonely shadows around the room. Another source that seemed to show her unsaid words of pity.

She contemplated calling off work, giving in to the relentless pain that coursed through her, but the thought of being alone in the apartment that echoed his absence was overwhelming. The thought of the empty silence reminded her unbearably of his quiet disregard for their shared dreams, reflecting their empty relationship.

As the dawn approached, she decided to face the world outside - not for the sake of carrying out her tasks but as a refuge from the solitude. The tiny computer screen at her desk at work was a less painful alternative to the daunting emptiness of the apartment.

Walking through the doors of her workplace, she found comfort not in the friendly greetings from her colleagues nor in the mundane tasks that filled her day but in the sheer act of survival. Each passing hour was a bitter testament to her crumbling heart bearing the weight of his betrayal, a reminder that despite the sorrowful echo in the hollow spaces of her soul, she could — and would — move on.

Her heart – the thing that had dealt the most pain – would never listen to the silly things her brain would tell her. Not even when his groupmates would message her, asking her if he stopped by to say hello and that they missed her and to never be afraid to reach out to them.

“No.” She wanted to so desperately write back. “No, he didn’t come by to see me. How does it feel knowing that he chose you guys over me? How does it feel knowing that my heart is tearing itself apart because he would rather not talk to me but would spend his free time being with you guys?”

But as much as her heart was breaking and everything inside of her was holding back, the tears that felt like one wrong push would completely throw her over the edge.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks!” That was all she messaged back before turning her phone off when she noticed her messages were still set to deliver.

Tucking the small device back into her pocket, she offered a strained smile to the coworkers passing by her desk. Every tick of the clock marked another second she was away from the eerie silence of their shared apartment. Each passing moment of the day distracted her mind just enough to keep the tears she’d been holding back from spilling over the edge.

She couldn’t help but cast furtive glances at the phone she had taken out of her pocket for momentary relief, half-dreading and half-hoping for a message from him. But with every passing hour, the anticipation dissolved into disappointment, each confirmation that he still hadn’t reached out to her stinging like a fresh cut on an old wound.

In an office filled with people, conversation, and the hum of life, her solitude never felt more profound. As the day wore on, a sense of dread seeped into her heart. It wasn't the dread of heartbreak, however, but the dread of having to return to an empty home, knowing that she'd be greeted by nothing more than the echoing silence of his absence and perhaps the bitterness along with the shadow of what used to be happiness.

As nightfall approached, she steeled herself. Bracing herself for the long night ahead, she cast one last glance at her silent phone, let out a soft sigh, and began her reluctant journey back home to the ghost of her lover.

The journey back was a blur, a haze of city lights blending with the memory of his smile. As she unlocked the door to their shared apartment, she found herself hoping against hope that he'd be there. Every creak of the wooden floor, every shadow cast by the dim hallway light, echoed a faint possibility of his presence lurking in some corner – a hush greeting, a cozy comfort.

However, the reality was rather stark. The apartment greeted her with a cold emptiness, an echoing silence that amplified the loneliness. The couch lay bereft of his rumpled form, the kitchen devoid of his lingering warmth, and the bedroom mocked her with his untouched side of the bed. She peeked into rooms filled with his absence, her expectations crumbling into an overwhelming sense of despair.

Every nook, cranny, and piece of furniture they'd picked out together now held the aftertaste of his memory. The laughter, shared dreams, and cozy movie nights hung around the apartment like ghostly shadows, a poignant contrast to the present reality. Echoes of their love story played out in painful silence as she navigated her way through the house, a creeping dread settling in her heart with every step.

She would have to face yet another night of longing, another night of silent tears, another night of yearning for a presence long gone. Another night of learning to unlove the ghost of her lover on her own. Yet, she held on, dreading the solitude but embracing it as well, because it was in this solitude that she realized her strength, found the ability to stand amidst the ruins of her heart, and still hope for a better tomorrow.

Navigating her way through the dimly lit apartment felt like exploring a forgotten, treasured moment of the past. The remnants of shared life still clung to the subtlest corners of the house – the picture frames capturing their warm smiles, the hand-picked furniture that had held their shared dreams, the cozy spots touch-marked by their settled bodies during movie nights. All were silent spectators to the drama of absence that unfolded in front of her, each object a trigger to a memory, each memory a knife twisting deeper into her heart.

Her footsteps took her to the door of an old, rarely-used room. A stab of pain hit her as she stepped inside his painting room. The scent of paint and turpentine, the hastily wiped brushes, and the blank canvas on the easel mocked her with their lifeless silence. His room, a sanctuary once filled with vibrant life and color with the mix of laughter and happy cries, was now a tangible echo of his absence. She froze, taking in all the painful details, her heart heavy with the cruel reality mirrored in the lifeless brushes and color tubes.

With a sigh, she turned away from the room, her heart aching with a longing she could no longer quench. Navigating her way through the rest of the house was a bleak journey. Hints of the love they once shared haunted her steps, whispering the past into her ears with every soft creak of the wooden floor.

Wrapped in the solitude of their shared memories, she finally climbed into bed. The room, still bearing the faint residue of his scent, enveloped her in its cold embrace. Alone in the vast expanse of the bed they once shared, she felt the full force of his absence. But amidst this profound loneliness, she found a fragment of her fading strength — a resilience defying the melancholy of the deserted space.

In the hushed serenity of the night, the soft glow of the moon cast a gentle light on her slumbering form. Still lost in her dreams, a faint trail of affectionate kisses began to awaken her from the deep realm of sleep. The delicate pecks started from the shell of her ear, feather-light as they gently traced the curve of her neck and danced down her bare back. Each slight touch, though subtle, stirred her slowly from her peaceful slumber, sparking a soft, pleasing tingle on her skin. A quiet smile graced her lips as she was softly drawn back to consciousness, the hushed whispers of the night broken only by the beat of her quickening heart — a rhythmic replacement for the silence of her once-shared apartment.

The more she was pulled from her dreams, the more aware she became. The soft kisses she had started to welcome soon had her body jerking away in panic, her heart racing as she almost allowed herself to fall victim to whoever decided to break into her home while the night was probably still young. She was more awake as the white sheets gripped her body as she scooted further from the unknown figure.

The figure was silent and hunched over. The silence that filled the room only caused her more panic as she tried to shuffle away more and more, only to be stopped the moment the figure snapped out of the shock they were in and began to blindly reach out for her.

“Relax.” The voice spoke, grabbing her arm and pulling her closer. The more she struggled, the more the figure held onto her tighter. “Baby, relax.”

His voice was a warm contrast to the hostile atmosphere, carrying a soothing yet firm tone that seeped into her panic-stricken senses. It triggered a quick flash of recognition, causing her racing heart to skip a beat. She squinted, just catching the outline of a familiar frame bathed in the weak moonlight, and the tension in her body somewhat abated.

It was him. The figure she had been dreading becoming a stranger. Suddenly, the intruder was no more. It was him — her partner, her lover — whose absence had begun redefining their shared space’s silence.

His hand was warm, and his grip was gentle yet reassuring. The circles he absently traced on her forearm coaxed soothing waves across her agitated frame. The familiar whispery rasp that her ears cherished, the same voice she hadn’t heard in weeks. It was back, drizzling over the tense room.

The fog of panic slowly lifted as the realization settled — he was home. Her heart rate decelerated, the drumming against her ribs fading to a soft thump. She felt a hint of wetness tracing the curve of her cheek — tears, relief, or pent frustrations, she couldn’t tell.

A soft sigh escaped him, the quietest apology. He still held her closer, his grasp a desperate attempt to anchor themselves against the tide of emotions threatening to unchain. Even a slight parting, and they could be swept away back into those weeks of silence.

“Welcome home…” She mumbled faintly, her voice cloaked in relief. As he muttered a quiet “sorry,” they began to mend the silence of her once lonely apartment, filling it with breaths of a shared life. She began to blink, a frown spreading across her face as she had almost wanted to attack him. As she sat there in silence, she began to scowl at the unplanned entrance her lover made.

“I missed you.” He mumbled, his lips kissing the inside of her palm. With the light from the moon, she could tell that her lover was still dressed in his military uniform, no doubt just coming from his base. “I needed to see you; I need you. Please tell me you need me too and missed me as much as I missed you.”

His words were muffled as he continued to kiss her. They were laced with desperation as he moved onto the bed. She could barely see how his eyes flicked up to meet hers, desperation mixed with his beautiful brown eyes.

“Have you been behaving?” He was quick to ask, seemingly uncaring if she had answered him or not. His fingers were quick to rip the sheet away, and a deep-throated groan emitted from his throat as he enjoyed the lack of clothes she presented for him.

His hands moved wherever they could attach, squeezing and teasing her skin as they traveled down her body - from her collarbones to her breasts, down to the curve of her hips. The touch was familiar yet different, carrying an alien edge in its urgency, sending a flurry of mixed emotions through her.

Having caught her breath, she managed to choke out a shaky “yes” while fighting a fresh wave of panic. She was no longer sure if it was fear or something else entirely - a lingering sense of longing, perhaps.

He huffed, the hint of a smile barely visible in the dim moonlight. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured, sending waves of electricity down her spine. His fingers traced along the curve of her hips, the touch almost agonizingly slow. It was a reminder, a homecoming, and despite the onslaught of fear and confusion, a part of her relished it.

However, a significant part of her shivered under the unexpected strangeness of his touch. Something had changed either in him or in their once-shared intimacy. Whether it was just weeks of silence from him or how much she had missed his touch. She wasn’t sure what felt so different.

The silence that had vaguely started weaving around them was now a tangible bowl of questions and insecurities, a scenario she dreaded to unravel. Five months of almost nothing, often barely a greeting other than a simple message, and her only updates often being from social media, had her hesitating.

Her hand caught his, forcing him to halt his exploration. Even in the dim light, his eyes held her gaze, silently asking for an explanation. It was a moment of vulnerable truth they had to face now - their love, their bond kept under the magnifying glass, exposed and examined. The silent echoes of their once-shared apartment now called for answers, and she hoped they had them.

“You never told me you were coming home.” She whispered, her eyes never leaving his own as his shoulders fell in slight defeat. “You hardly message me. You never came to visit me when you were able to…”

“I wanted to surprise you,” He began, moving closer to her once more to kiss the corner of her lip, “Are you unhappy to see me, my love?” He pushed, “Have you not missed me as much as I missed you? Baby, I’m ready to explode. I need you. I’m so needy. I can’t wait. I need you. I need to be inside you. I want to taste you again. I fucking need you. Let me make up for lost time. For not visiting you when I could, please…”

Her eyes observed his movements. Her gasp was loud as he pulled her body down and forced her legs around his waist, allowing his hard-on to brush against her exposed cunt.

“Let me taste you, baby,” Minhyuk whined, waiting for her answer.

His begging eyes held a dark promise, a sinful invitation that she found impossible to resist. She gently caressed his face, a slight smirk gracing her lips.

“Alright, love,” she eventually conceded, her tone laced with suspense. Her heart pounded as a flare of anticipation passed between them.

Minhyuk’s eyes sparked with victory and desire. He bent his head downwards, his husky voice whispering promises of pleasure as he began his descent, further trailing his hands down her body, elevating their intimate dance to a symphony of tantalizing sensations. This, she realized belatedly, was the intoxicating blend of lust and love - an enticing whirlpool of desire and fulfillment - sinfully smutty yet unbelievably romantic.

He wasted no time sliding down the bed until his eyes met her needy cunt. His lips parted as he reveled at the sight, his breath hitching in anticipation.

“So beautiful…” he muttered, his husky voice like warm velvet against her skin. His thumb gently teased her clit, causing her to gasp at the sudden sensation. A wicked smile curved on his lips, hearing her sweet whimper.

“Minhyuk…” she breathed, her voice barely audible under the storm of her desire. He looked up, his gaze holding a fiery promise.

His tongue traced a languid path from her entrance up to her clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. A triumphant hum came from him, adding extra sensation to her already sensory build-up. He lavished his attention, alternating between a slow lick and a quick flick, building her anticipation and desire to an excruciating peak.

“Don’t rush, love…” he murmured against her heated core, intoning sinful promise. His aroused gaze met hers, his hands keeping her steady as she writhed under him, futilely trying to get more friction. He chuckled, the sound vibrating delectably against her, sending spasms of pleasure through her. He relished her taste, appreciating their intimacy and closeness, entirely giving himself to her pleasure. He loved to tremendously arouse her longing, driving her to the sweet edge of ecstasy. “Just let it happen naturally…” He whispered darkly, resuming his torturous pace. “I’ll have you cumming in my mouth soon enough. I’ll take care of you.”

“Minhyuk…” she whimpered out, every cell in her body reaching out for his touch. Her legs trembled around him as minutes stretched into an eternity, proving his promise true. Her fingers gripped tighter at the sheets, her breath ragged and hitched in anticipation.

Every sensation was amplified, magnified by the intimate patience with which he worshipped her. The sound of his name on her lips was a sweet symphony to his ears, a clear sign of her impending release. He continued his skillful play, his tongue against her heat, his breath fanning over her wetness, fueling her desire further.

Her hips rolled up, meeting his lips in a desperate plea, and her body quivered, a clear sign of her impending climax. At her first spasm, he pulled back just slightly, only to dive back in, latching his mouth over her clit and sucking gently. The wave came crashing down, her body convulsing under the influence of a mind-numbing orgasm ripping through her. He held her close, his mouth still busied with drawing out all of her pleasure till her high receded, and she lay panting and spent, the taste of her climax still fresh on his lips.

“I told you, love,” he murmured against her oversensitive skin, his voice muffled by her thigh. His words were punctuated with a final, gentle lick as she shuddered again, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Their eyes met, his holding a promise of more to come as she rode the waves of satisfaction washing over her. “I’ve got you.”

Kissing her thighs, Minhyuk left open-mouth kisses all over her stomach and neck until his lips found hers once again. The kiss was impatient and greedy. Y/N knew her lover was close to breaking, and he would no longer wait for his own release.

“I’m done waiting.” He mumbled as he began undoing his pants. “I need you so fucking badly. Can your cunt handle me, baby?”

He watched as she nodded her head eagerly.

“You sure?” He teased, determination lacing his voice. His eyes were filled with fiery intensity and primal hunger that she found intoxicating.

“Yes.” She gasped out, her voice barely audible.

With an approving grunt, he shed his clothes remaining, revealing his arousal in its full hardness. His eye glistened with lust as he ran his fingers through her slick folds, collecting her excitement before smoothing it on himself.

Positioning himself at her entrance, he locked his gaze with hers. This act wasn’t just about penetration; it meant more than that. It mirrored the depth of their desires, the yearning they carried for each other within their hearts.

Slowly, he began his descent into her, finding her wet and ready for him. A tempting purr escaped her at his initial thrust, causing him to twitch within her. “God, you’re so tight.”

With that said, he began to move deeper into her, each thrust showing his intense need. He was slow, then fast - every push and pull creating waves of pleasure rippling through their bodies. Her eyes rolled back as an uncontrollable moan escaped her lips, fingers clutching onto his back as they rhythmically moved as one.

His name was a plead, a whisper, and then a scream that sounded with the collision of their bodies - a sweet harmony to their undying chorus of love and lust.

Their room flooded with sounds of their wild abandonment, gasps, and whispers of their names. He loved every reaction she gave with his deep thrusts into her, the way she arched her body, meeting his. Each grunt and moan they shared in their intimate congress was a reminder of the passion that had bound them together.

And just as the crescendo of their communion was about to be reached, he positioned himself even deeper, looking into her eyes as he thrust hard one last time. A loud cry escaped her lips, her body tensing and convulsing as he followed shortly after, their releases mingling together in a decadent tapestry of absolute, raw, sexual bliss.

All that was left was silence, save for their ragged breaths in unison, the only evidence of passion played out just moments ago, a symphony of their love and lust. He gazed at her, sweat-soaked and satisfied.

“I love you.” He whispered, kissing her deeply. “I love you, I love you. Fuck, I missed you. I miss seeing you every single day. I fucking miss you, baby. I’m going crazy without you.”

His words were like silent chants as his fingers found her own. She observed her lover carefully. Each word of praise and compliments felt like kisses to her body. She heard him sniffle, his head falling down in defeat, but she felt his warm tears kiss her skin.

“Min…” Her words were soft as she cupped his face. The moonlight didn’t hide his red face as he cried. “I’m here.”

She watched as he fell beside her, his head finding comfort on her chest as he cried silently. He was weak and vulnerable. All she could do was hold him close and remind him that even though his time was limited with her, she’d value all time with him.

Kissing the crown of his head, she whispered soothing words, threading her fingers through his hair until his sobs subsided, an unspoken promise to weather the storm together hanging between them. This newfound reality was a cruel one, yet she held on because love, she knew, transcended the limitations of time.

That night, sleep evaded her. She watched him eventually succumb to slumber, his body heavily sunk against her as if seeking refuge from the inevitable. Suddenly, the night seemed longer, each tick of the clock echoing ominously in the dimmed room. Her eyes gazed outside the window, tracing the stars in a futile attempt to find guidance in their ancient twinkling light.

The next morning dawned, bringing with it the familiar blush of an early sunrise. In the soft, warm glow, his face was serene, oblivious to the anger and unfairness of their situation.

Sorrow washed over her as she slipped out of his hold. She cloaked herself in this brief solitude, allowing the tears to flow in quiet rebellion against the day that promised to chip away a piece of their borrowed time. The typical morning noises - birdsong, the hum of distant traffic sounded surprisingly devoid of joy.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air in the kitchen, battling her welling despair with its familiar comfort. As she prepared breakfast, she fought back the lump in her throat. The simple act spoke volumes of her unvoiced fears and hidden hopes, a poignant symbol of unsaid declarations.

However, with each passing second, anger slowly filled her body and pushed away the sadness that crept up. She blinked away the tears, hating how the new ones were replaced with angry ones. She hated how easily she fell for his apology. How he left her without much for months on end and decided he’d instead not visit her while he could.

Her inhale was shaky, and the countertop was cold beneath her hands, a silent pillar of support. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and distractions, all dangerously teetering on the precipice of weariness that slowly invaded her soul due to lack of sleep.

Before she could brace herself, she heard movement behind her. Minhyuk was awake. She turned to see his sleep-ruffled hair as he blinked away sleep’s haze.

“Why are you up so early?” He asked, a veneer of casualness looming over his curiosity. She watched as he held out his hand, an invite he’d hoped she’d take. “Come back to bed. We can worry about breakfast later.”

Her heart pounded, a drumbeat loud in her ears. Taking a deep breath, she finally voiced out the thought that had been gnawing at her since the night before. “We need to talk about how you barely keep in contact.”

Minhyuk froze, his eyes wide open in surprise. The silence that enveloped them was deafening, amplifying the harsh reality of her words. She locked eyes with Minhyuk, whose confusion slowly fell away to be replaced with a flicker of understanding and then guilt.

“Why didn’t you keep in touch?” she asked quietly, the weight of that seemingly simple question filling up the space between them. Each word echoed around in their shared silence, a stark indictment of his absence.

“But I…” he began, stumbling over his words, lost for justification. She stood firm, her resolve unwavering. This was a conversation that had been overdue, a piece of their shared reality that had to be addressed. Through her weariness, she found the strength—and anguished determination—to face him and demand answers, even if they promised to unravel the delicate ambiance of their morning. “I’m sorry.”

She watched as the walls around her lover caved in. His eyes looked away from her own, fresh tears prickling away and wishing to fall when given the right time. She knew she had backed him into a corner he didn’t want to be in. But that’s how she felt when he greeted her with nothing.

Minhyuk gulped, visibly struggling with words. “I… I didn’t want my absence to hurt you.” His attempt at explanation seemed to hang in the air, a feeble defense against her palpable anguish. “Fuck – that’s not an excuse, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“But it did hurt, Minhyuk,” she replied, trembling. “It hurt because you were not here. Because you chose to hide from me instead of talking to me. It felt like I was trying to talk to a ghost.”

His gaze fell to the floor, unable to meet the raw hurt in her eyes. The silence grew more poignant between them, the air filled with unthinkable pain and regret. His silence only spurred the sense of sadness, of betrayal that was bubbling within her.

“Why Minhyuk?” She asked again, her voice barely a whisper but carrying a weight that suddenly seemed too heavy to bear. His silence was answer enough. It echoed the months of lonely nights and fearful days, the unattended messages, the unanswered calls, the unsaid words that should have bridged their distance but instead widened it.

Minhyuk drew in a shaky breath, tears and regret moistening his eyes. He opened his mouth, finally ready to answer, willing to brave the storm of emotions threatening to drown them both. Their borrowed time was ticking away just as their challenging conversation was only getting started.

“I was scared. I… It’s not like I’m away on tour. This is different for both of us. I’m trying, but I’m scared you won’t wait for me,” Minhyuk confessed, his voice echoing vulnerability and fear.

“And that’s why you chose to distance yourself?” she asked, her tone laced with bitterness. “You made the choice for me? You decided I wouldn’t wait without even giving me a chance to decide for myself?”

He looked flustered, a shadow of his usually confident self. “I… I guess I did. I was just trying to protect you, to protect us,” he stammered.

She gave a hollow laugh. “And look how well that turned out.” Her sarcasm was a bitter pill, a harsh realization of their predicament. She breathed deeply, “We weather what comes together, Minhyuk. That’s what love is. You don’t get to decide what I can and cannot handle.”

His gaze met hers once more, tear-streaked but resolute. Silence enveloped them again, but this time, it wasn’t one of confusion or guilt but of understanding and, hopefully, resolve for better communication in their uncertain future.

“How fucking dare you?” She hissed, pointing at him as angered tears brimmed her eyes, “How dare you walk in here and think that just because you fucked me that I’d forgive you? That it would make anything okay? Minhyuk, I waited for you! Months and months! All I got from you were twice-a-week texts when I was lucky and videos of you attending the boy’s concert. How is it okay for me to see you on social media but not in person? Not until last night when you were too horny to control yourself. To actually wake me up like a normal person would.”

She watched as Minhyuk stood there, listening to her anger-filled words. There was a mix of emotions in his eyes - regret, self-reproach, and a deep-seated sadness. He appeared as if her words had physically pained him, but he made no move to defend himself. Instead, he stood there, absorbing each painful accusation, each sniffle, each tear that slipped from her eyes.

Minhyuk raised a shaky hand to his face, brushing away a stray tear from his eye. He watched her momentarily - the woman he claimed to love, yet unintentionally hurt. The silence settled around them, filling the room with tension and desolation.

“We knew from the start, Y/N, it was going to be hard juggling both my career and our relationship,” Minhyuk started, his voice raspy as he tried to steady his breathing, “But I let things spiral out of control. I admit that. Last night…,” he paused, looking away briefly, “Last night was wrong on so many levels. I was selfish, desperate to be close to you again in whatever way possible.”

Slowly, Minhyuk moved towards her, his actions filled with caution, but she did not flinch or move away. Instead, she watched him with tear-filled eyes, her anger dissipating into a silent plea for understanding.

He reached out for her again, testing the waters to see if she would move. His shoulders fell in relief as she allowed his hand to hold hers. It was a silent step in the right direction. Hopeful he was making the right moves.

“I won’t beg for your forgiveness or try to sugarcoat my mistakes. But I need you to know,” he continued, “that I never took you lightly. When I was with the boys, going to concerts, you were always on my mind. I promised you my heart, Y/N, not just my free time.”

She could see the sincerity in Minhyuk’s eyes. It did not heal the breach, but it was a start. There was a lot he needed to explain and make up for. But at least they communicated openly and honestly for the first time in many months. It was a step towards understanding, even if forgiveness was still miles away.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you. I should’ve told you I was free. I just… I fucked up. I don’t want to lose you. Let me make it up to you. Properly this time. The way you deserve it.”

His words echoed through the room, filled with desperation and regret. He stood before her, stripped of all pretenses, laying bare his emotions. In this moment, humility replaced his usually bold demeanor, and the heartfelt sincerity shone through.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her, Y/N couldn’t ignore the genuine regret etched onto Minhyuk’s face. For the first time, perhaps, he truly understood the pain he had caused and the magnitude of his mistakes. Amidst the lingering anger, a feeble spark of compassion ignited in her heart.

Finally, she spoke softly and tentatively, “It’s not about making up, Minhyuk. It’s about change. It’s about understanding what went wrong and ensuring it doesn’t happen again.”

Minhyuk nodded, accepting her terms unconditionally. He pulled her into his arms, his lips kissing her forehead as he always did when he was genuinely sorry.

“I promise, Y/N.” He whispered, his lips unmoving from kissing her forehead. “Come back to bed with me. You have me until tomorrow. I’m all yours.”

With a quiet acknowledgment of her words, he wrapped his arms around her, guiding her toward the bedroom. It was evident that he was full of remorse about what had happened, and he was eager to make things right. He was warm behind her, his body curving naturally against hers.

They moved together in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. The creaky floorboards beneath their feet echoed their tentative steps, and the soft cast of the morning sunlight cast a soft glow on their faces. As they stepped back into the room, the air grew heavy with unspoken words and understanding. The bed was unmade and inviting, a beacon of comfort in the otherwise empty apartment.

The sheets, still warm from their prior slumber, welcomed them in its embrace. He carefully climbed in first, patting beside himself and inviting her to join him. He watched as she hesitantly climbed in next to him, crawling under the covers before turning to face him. His eyes scanned her face, taking in its every contour, every remnant of their shared grief and unspoken understanding.

He closed the distance between them, pulling her into his arms. His hold was comforting yet painfully familiar, reigniting the spark that once existed between them. His fingers traced patterns on her skin, a mindless action that used to put her right to sleep. His lips pressed against her forehead in a gentle kiss, an act of apology, of promise.

“I promise, Y/N,” he whispered against her skin, his voice barely audible. The words, laden with sincerity, echoed in the room’s silence. His promise hung heavy in the air, intertwining with the quiet hum of the night. “I - I know my promises may not mean too much to you... but this time is different.”

His hold tightened around her as they lay in the quiet room, his fingers tracing familiar patterns on her skin as she turned her back to him, allowing him to pull her as close as possible, spooning her. Despite his best efforts, sleep refused to claim her. Minhyuk sensed her restlessness, her untold thoughts echoing in the silence that stretched between them.

Deciding to break the silence, he whispered, “Y/N, how have you been?”

“Minhyuk, I’ve been terrible.” Her hesitant breath hitched at his question, and she responded with brutal honesty. The words were strained, and a bitter laugh devoid of humor escaped her lips. She took a calming breath before continuing, “I cry every day, you know. And my coworkers... oh god, the pity in their eyes, Minhyuk. It’s unbearable.” Her voice shivered, her pain bleeding through her words. “Every day I waited for you... hoping for something, anything. But I was met with nothing.”

As she spoke, he felt his heart clench. Each word was like a strike against his chest. His arms instinctively closed tighter around her, an attempt to pull her closer, if possible, to shield her from any more pain. But even as he did so, he realized it was him causing the pain. His promises of change rang hollow in his ears compared to her raw and truthful suffering.

Despite his comforting hold, shared warmth, and the quiet hum of the morning light, sleep continued to elude them. In its stead, guilt, regret, and a longing for repentance again settled over Minhyuk.

Her honest confession shocked Minhyuk, its raw intensity piercing through the fragile silence. Each word she spoke was laden with a bitter agony that stung him to the core. Her reality, shaped by his indiscretions, rocked him to reality. The words ‘terrible,’ ‘crying,’ and ‘pity’ echoed in his mind, searing his heart with a guilt that was becoming increasingly unbearable.

He clung to her desperately, his embrace tightening as if to shield her from the pain he himself had inflicted. Yet each word she uttered, the honesty behind her pain, shattered his illusion of being her protector. Every confession she whispered made him understand that he was not the guardian but the monster from whom she needed protection.

The anguish in his heart welled up, and his eyes welled up with unshed tears, spreading a wet warmth on his cheeks. His breath hitched as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, hoping she wouldn’t hear his silent sobs. The realization, the hard-hitting reality of the pain he had inflicted on her, was a torment he had never predicted.

As sleep remained far from the pair, a wrenching guilt seeped into him, pooling around his heart. He held her close, his apology hanging heavily in the shared silence. His quiet tears continued to soak their shared pillow, a tangible testament to his regret and an act of repentance for his transgressions. Every ticking second, his guilt grew, blossoming into a suffocating remorse that stagnated the air around them.

His guilt reached an unbearable intensity, smothering him under its weight. With shuddering breaths and teardrop-laden eyes, he mustered up the courage to break the silence. Fragile and burdened with regret, his voice was hardly above a whisper, “Y/N... I’m... I’m so sorry.”

The words felt inadequate, a pitiful attempt to convey the ocean of remorse that swam within him. Each syllable chipped away at his composure, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to her. His tears continued to fall, leaving warm trails on his cheeks. The same tears that held no care if they wet her shoulders. His body shook with silent sobs, tremors of guilt that reverberated between them.

“I was... I was wrong,” he admitted, the words a mere breath against her hair. “I hurt you... you didn’t deserve any of this.” The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, his apology tainting the once comforting silence.

He broke further with each word he uttered, a solemn testament to his regret. The guilt within him crackled and ate away at his composure, each ticking second grating at his resolve. Facing the magnitude of his transgressions, he found himself on the precipice of despair, teetering on the edge of a chasm that threatened to swallow him whole.

In his state of desolation, Minhyuk clung to her, desperate for a semblance of stability as he navigated the tumultuous storm of his remorse. The anguished vulnerability that gripped him served as a stark reminder of the path of pain and distress he had inflicted upon her. Absorbed in his spiral of regret, sleep remained a distant echo, replaced by the unending cycle of apologies that streamed from his broken heart. His anguish echoed in the silence, a stark contrast to the harmonious hum of the morning enveloping them.

Taking a shaky breath, he looked up at the ceiling with tear-stained eyes, his voice stuttering in his remorse. “After the fancon... I regretted not coming to see you,” he admitted the words carrying an immense weight of guilt. He could still remember the joy in the fans’ eyes, a stark contrast to the pain he had caused her. “I fucking hated myself.”

His laughter with the fans and the camaraderie he shared with them was a gut-wrenching reminder of the time he could have, should have, spent with her. Was the joy he felt worth the pain he had caused her? The answer was painfully evident.

“I consumed myself in self-hatred for weeks.” His voice was barely a whisper, fervent yet pained. Each word seemed to scrape at his throat as if the vocal embodiment of his regret was just as painful as the emotional turmoil within him. “And I... I got even more scared to message you because I knew... I knew you saw everything. I was scared you’d hate me. That you would realize I was never good for you, that you deserve someone who can give you their time.”

His confession was met with silence, further amplifying the heavy echo of his guilt. His body shook, trembling under the weight of his regret. It was almost as if confessing his remorse carved open wounds within him, the anguish seeping out and staining the silence between them.

Every passing second was a painful reminder of his what he had done, his guilt growing like a malignant tumor within him. His regret had become an unending cycle, suffocating him with remorse to the point where sleep remained a distant desire. His hushed apologies and silent sobs stayed suspended in the air in stark contrast to the harmonic hum of the night, filling the room with an unbearable heaviness.

Lost in his storm of regret, Minhyuk clung to her, yearning for the stability and warmth she always provided him, a stark reminder of what he had so carelessly discarded.

“Say something...please,” he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper in the dense stillness. Despite his trembling form and tear-streaked face, he mustered the courage to break the silence again. The void of her response scared him, the silence morphing into a beast threatening to consume his sanity. He was terrified of losing her, losing the only solace he had known amidst the chaos he had created. “Please Y/N...”

In a desperate attempt to see her reaction, to gauge her feelings, he gently turned her to face him. The sight that met him was as tormenting as the silence. Her features, usually radiant and warm, were dull and tear-streaked, mirroring his own despair. Her silent tears were a stark, painful echo of his actions, of the harm he had caused.

The reality of their shared suffering intensified his guilt, making it an almost tangible presence in the room. His apology felt inadequate, a feeble attempt against the pain he saw mirrored in her eyes. His wrongdoings and choices led them to this point of shared agony. Every tick of the clock reminded him of his actions and the remorse that was now their companion.

The air was heavy, almost tangible, with the weight of his guilt, the despair radiating from him in waves. Sleep remained a distant dream, replaced by the relentless grip of regret tightening around him. The muffled echo of his sobs and the harsh contrast of their anguish against the peaceful morning only highlighted the gravity of the turmoil within them. Clinging to her, he sought solace amidst this storm, the warmth of her presence amidst the cold dread of his regret. The realization of the depth of pain he had inflicted loomed ominously, a cruel taunt of the love he had so recklessly mishandled.

She made an attempt to speak, yet her voice wavered, choked by tears and the overwhelming wave of hurt he had inflicted upon her. The sound, or rather the lack of it, crushed him further. He held her tighter as though the strength of his embrace could blot out the cruel reality of their situation.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he gasped between sobs. Apologies poured from him, a cascade of remorse, grief, and desperation. Each word was a palpable fragment of his guilt, echoing in the oppressive silence of their shared space. His voice was a broken whisper, the raw edge of emotions making it almost inaudible.

“I’ll... I’ll do better,” he promised, clinging to her like a lifeline as if she was the only thing anchoring him in his sea of regret. “I’ll try to... to wrap up early, be home with you... You need - deserve better. More than I’ve given you.”

The admission ripped through him, a brutal acknowledgment of how profoundly he had failed her. The hands that held her trembled, reverberating the aftershocks of his guilt through her. She was crying silently, a damning testament to his actions.

His guilt was a suffocating entity in the room, a hovering ghost casting long shadows over what was once their respite. His hushed promises and tear-laden apologies hung in the air, each a testimony of his pain and regret. His desperation echoed in the cruel morning silence, bouncing off the walls and seeping into every corner of their shared space. It was an inescapable reminder of his recklessness, a stark contrast to the serenity the morning glow, under different circumstances, would usually bring. His hell was one of his own making, a torment born from his choices, his regret a constant companion.

“Maybe... maybe I don’t deserve you, Y/N. Fuck, I definitely don’t deserve you,” he confessed, burying his face in her hair. “But I need you... I can’t do this without you. I’m too selfish to let you go,” he admitted his voice a thread of barely contained anguish. His hands, trembling and unsure, gently cupped her face, his thumb lightly tracing the trail of tears that stained her cheeks. Her anguish, a damning testament of his actions, was clear and evident in the tear tracks. “Is that so wrong? Why am I so fucking selfish with you when I push you away? I’m a monster.”

As if to assuage his guilt and offer a wordless apology, he pressed tender kisses on her forehead, temples, and cheeks, each one a silent vow. His lips lingered a moment longer on each tear-stained spot as if hoping to kiss away the hurt he himself had caused.

The room was filled with his whispered promises, his broken apologies, each word raw and heavy with regret. The atmosphere clung onto each syllable, echoing his desperation throughout their shared space. He clung to her, his lifeline in the turbulent sea of guilt and regret. Her warmth was a harsh reminder of what he stood to lose, of the love he had so foolishly mishandled.

Despite the despair that gripped him, despite the guilt that threatened to consume him, Minhyuk held onto hope. A hope that was encapsulated in her, a hope that she would find it in her heart to forgive him, to give him another chance. Yet, her silence and tears tore at him more painfully than her words ever could. His hell was a torment of his own making, a grave he had dug out for himself with his recklessness and disregard.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice trembled, mirroring her emotions. Wracked with sobs and choked with tears, she uttered, “Minhyuk...”

The sound of his name, laced with so much pain, hurt more than any words of reprimand could. It was a brutal echo of his actions, a painful reflection of the harm he had caused. Yet despite the sting, he clung onto the vestiges of her voice, desperate for any semblance of a response, validation that she was still willing to communicate with him, to give him a chance to repent.

“Do you remember that day at the amusement park, Minhyuk?” she whispered, a hint of nostalgia creeping into her voice. Her voice trembled, telling the tale of a time when they were both younger and less burdened. “You were trying to impress me by winning me that stuffed toy, but you fell into the dunk tank instead. Everyone was laughing... and you... You were soaking wet, shivering, but still grinning like a fool.”

She let out a shaky laugh, a warm yet tormented sound that briefly dispelled the oppressive atmosphere. He found himself chuckling along, the memory of that embarrassing incident being a bittersweet reminder of happier times. Her soft laughter was like a ray of sunlight piercing through storm clouds, illuminating the dark corners of his guilt.

Slowly, the gloom of the room retracts a little. As if the clouds decided they had spent enough time blocking the sun’s shine. Her laughter echoed lightly against the walls, bouncing back to them like a tender caress, a small salve on their shared wounds. Minhyuk closed his eyes, holding onto the sound of her laughter, onto the memory of that day, onto the little bit of hope it offered, and let a careful sigh of relief escape his lips.

“I remember, Y/N... I was drenched, and everyone was laughing. But you...” He pressed closer to her, his laughter dying as he whispered, his voice dropping lower, a thread of emotion weaving through his tone, “You were there, standing up for me, your laughter the brightest thing I had ever heard. I fell for you even more that day.”

The mood had been lightened a bit, but the truth of their situation still loomed heavy around them. Yet, in that moment, they found a shared comfort in a cherished memory, a respite from the storm that still had to be faced. They clung to each other, the story of their past serving as a small beacon of light amidst the darkness of their present.

“I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered again, his voice barely above a breath, a fragile testament to his pain. Drawing her as close as he could, he locked eyes with her. Tears formed watery rims around his eyes, the ghosts of the laughter from their shared memory fading into the wind. “I’m sorry I was a ghost. Everything you worried about and begged for to not happen… it happened, and it was my own fault. It was all me.”

His thumb caressed her cheek gently, wiping away the fresh flood of tears that threatened to spill from her beautiful eyes. The moment’s intimacy, the raw emotion, turned every touch, every whisper into a poignant echo in the hollow silence.

“Kiss me, Minhyuk,” she said. Just as his face neared hers, ready to lose himself in her again, she held up a hand. The words that softly passed her lips gave him pause. Despite the curtain of tears, her eyes had a determined glint, her voice carrying a wavering note of resilience.

Respect for her wishes and his own yearning propelled him to gently press his lips against hers. It was a kiss filled with regret, desperate promises of reformation, and the faint hope of forgiveness. Their shared pain resonated in this exchange, this moment of desperate connection. His guilt, her forgiveness, and their collective hope for a better tomorrow were all locked in this lingering kiss, a poignant denouement to the regret-filled morning.

She gently pulled away from the kiss, her gaze steady yet filled with unshed tears. “Can we... Can we re-do last night?”

The question hung in the air between them, fragile as glass yet as heavy as lead.

His heart swelled in his chest. Was this a chance for redemption? For atonement? He searched her eyes, desperately seeking affirmation, and found his answer in the vulnerable depths of her gaze.

“We don’t have to...” he started, his voice almost a plea, a need to reassure her that there was no obligation, pressure, or expectation. But she silenced him with another kiss, her hands cradling his face.

“I want to... with you,” she said softly, her gaze steadfast on him and her heart bared open. “I want to make love to you, Minhyuk.”

With a shaky breath, Minhyuk nodded, his voice a soft whisper in the silent room. “If that is what you wish, Y/N, I am here,” he assured her, his eyes shining with gratitude and a newfound determination.

He leaned in to gently kiss her neck, trailing his lips down with reverence. His kisses were feather-light, yet they marked her skin with a delicate heat. His fingers traced non-specific patterns on her skin, feeling the familiar warmth beneath his touch. He held her with one arm, using his free hand to explore her physique, treading on the known yet novel territory.

Minhyuk moved cautiously, letting his hands roam over her body, every move a silent question seeking her approval. At each motion, she would hum a soft affirmation, encouraging him to continue. He took his time, savoring every response and every gasp of pleasure that escaped her lips. All he wanted was to make her feel cherished and treasured. Like he should have before.

Her pulse quickened beneath his touch, their breaths hitching in sync. The sound of his name on her lips sounded like a prayer. This time, it was different. It wasn’t about seeking solace or escaping but about reaffirming and reminding each other of the love they once passionately shared.

This intimate moment was a far cry from their previous encounter. There was an eminent sense of respect and a deep understanding of each other’s needs and boundaries. It was about seeking healing, seeking comfort in their shared desire, and assent to rewrite the unwelcome memories of the previous night.

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin, his voice fading into a husky rumble. He dipped his head low, placing a soft kiss on her shoulder. She smiled, her eyes filled with unspoken emotions. “You’re so beautiful. A daydream.”

Minhyuk’s breath hitched as his fingers slowly slid down, journeying across her body. His touch was feather-light yet deliberate, tracing the curves of her form with the reverence of a lover enshrined in history, familiar yet intoxicatingly novel.

He carefully slid a hand lower, his fingertips gently grazing through the soft fabric of her undergarment. Her quick breath intake was all the approval he needed to push. Further, his fingers now tracing delicate patterns against her, raising goosebumps of pleasure in their wake.

His other hand cupped her face, thumb stroking her cheekbone in gentle arcs, his gaze locked onto her expression, a silent plea for continued affirmation in her eyes. Her lips parted, releasing a soft moan at his touch, her eyes half-lidded with ecstasy yet still holding that deep trust for him.

His actions were slow and punctuated, each a statement, a question, a request for consent. Time seemed to still to the rhythm of their beating hearts as they journeyed closer to that peak of intimacy, poised on the brink of pleasure and transcendence.

As his digits began to delicately explore her, their shared breaths grew more erratic, the soulful intimacy of the moment amplifying the sensory pleasure. A soft gasp echoed in the room, her hands clutching at his shoulders, a hushed plea of his name creating an orchestra of sounds in the otherwise silent room, adding to the melody of their shared union.

His fingers continued their delicate exploration, rhythms matching the steady rise and fall of her chest, creating a symphony of whispered pleas and strangled gasps. Her hands curled tighter into his shoulders, her breath hitching in sync with his every careful movement.

The room filled with their shared exhales of pleasure; the whispered utterances of each other’s names were a testament to their surrendered control. His attentions only intensified, the deliberate movements of his fingers heightening her pleasure, each apt touch making her arch into his touch.

His focus was intense, his gaze never leaving her face, quietly seeking her consent while noting each expressive tell of her rising pleasure on her face. His name fell from her lips, a whispered plea, her eyes lidded heavy with desire and trust.

She clutched him closer, her fingers digging into his bare skin in response to his skilled attention, each movement bringing her closer to that precipice of breathtaking ecstasy. He could feel her body begin to tighten around his fingers, her breathing ragged.

With a final arch of her back and a hushed gasp of his name, he felt her shatter against his touch, their shared breaths the only sound in the still, moonlit room. The intimacy of their rendezvous echoed in the otherwise quiet space, bearing testament to their tender, healing union.

They lay there together in the immediate aftermath, her body still trembling from the recent onslaught of pleasure. Her breath gradually slowed to match his, their chests rising and falling in sync. For a moment, they simply basked in each other’s presence, the depth of their shared connection enveloping them like a comforting blanket.

Minhyuk pressed gentle kisses to her forehead, cheeks, and nose —respectful, worshipful. His fingertips traced lazy patterns on her skin, each touch further solidifying their undeniable bond. In response to his movements, she entwined her fingers with his and sighed contentedly, her breath fanning over his neck.

“Minhyuk, I... I want more,” she murmured, her gaze locking onto his, filled to the brim with trust and unguarded passion. He hummed in acknowledgment, eyebrows raised in silent question. “Please...”

Visibly taken aback by her words, Minhyuk searched her eyes for any trace of doubt, but all he found was sincere desire and earnest anticipation. As a form of consent, he nodded and pressed his lips to hers in a heated kiss before allowing his touch to travel further, intent on satisfying her newfound curiosity.

His fingers slowly began to undo the remaining clothing barriers between them, his gaze never leaving hers, asking for silent affirmation with every button undone; every inch of fabric slipped off her body. The metabolism of his heartbeat mirrored in the anticipation twinkling in her eyes. She reciprocated his efforts, tugging at his boxers, their clothes pooling at their feet.

“Can I...?” she asked, her tone laced with uncertainty as her gaze met his, a mixture of desire and determination etched into her features. He nodded, aware of her unspoken desire, and satuating himself comfortably against the headboard.

She moved to straddle him, her knees dug into the mattress on either side of his hips. Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for him; his breath hitched in his chest at the contact. He watched her from beneath half-lidded eyes, noting the flush that spread across her cheeks, the slight shudder that ran through her spine as she began to sink down onto him.

Greater sensation overwhelmed him as she adjusted to him, her pace deliberately slow. His hands moved to rest on her hips, aiding her in finding a rhythm that brought pleasure to them both. Her head fell back, lips parted in a silent moan as her body moved against his, the sound of their mingled breaths filling the room.

Her movement was a dance, beautifully rhythmic and sinfully enticing. Each roll of her hips into his served as a testament to their shared desire, every shared moan a proof of their unspoken passion. She leaned forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss, their bodies meeting each other’s in a rhythm only they understood.

As she set the rhythm, he moved with her, hands traveling the expanse of her bare body, relishing the softness of her skin. His fingers traced the curves and valleys with a sense of awe, fingers dipping into places that earned him soft sighs and gasps of pleasure from her lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he managed to say, his low rasp vibrating against her skin, amplifying their ongoing intimacy. His gaze traveled the length of her, taking in her blossoming form, flushing under his touch, half-obscured in the diffused moonlight streaming in through the window. “You are everything to me. My world, my breath, my heartbeat.”

Acknowledgment of his heartfelt compliment was a slight hitch in the movement of her hips and an appreciative nudge against his hands, pressing him to explore further. Her body was a work of art, each movement sinfully enticing, making him hard to resist.

The sight of her, eyes glittering with pleasure, body moving fluidly against his in the most tantalizing way, was nothing short of empowering. He reached up and cupped her face, drawing her down for a deep, passionate kiss, their tongues dancing with the same rhythm their bodies had set. He conveyed his affection, admiration, and reverence through their lips meeting.

She moaned against his mouth, her body arching into his touch, seeking more, offering more. His hands guided her movements, each stroke setting her senses on fire. Desire mounted as their bodies meshed, the fervent connection sending them spiraling toward a climactic crest. His name rolled off her lips in a breathless whisper, a sweet melody to his ears, pushing him further into passionate depths.

As she continued to move, he marveled at the sight of her in the throes of pleasure. His hands explored the expanse of her body. Each touch, each caress, was a silent praise.

“You’re a vision.” he breathed out, his voice heavy with ardor. Her skin, flushed and glowing in the dimly lit room, encouraged him further. His fingers traced the curve of her waist and the swell of her hips; every part of her underneath his hands was a testament to her beauty.

Each roll of her hips against his elicited a low moan from him, each sound spurring her on. His praise, their shared desire, and their intimate connection continued to fuel their actions. She bent down, pressing her lips onto his as she continued to ride him, matching the rhythm of their shared breathing.

Their bodies moved in sync; the feel of her soft skin against his and the expression of pleasure etched on her face was nothing short of intoxicating. He relished in her reaction, watching as she arched her back, lost in the pleasure he was providing her.

When the climax arrived, it was like a wave crashing over them. She cried out his name, her body shuddering with the overwhelming sensation. He followed soon after, his body tensing as he reached the peak of his pleasure. Nothing but their shared breaths filled the room, the sound echoing like a testament to their passion. A shared intimacy that was more than just physical, a bond that was deep and unfathomably profound.

As the waves of pleasure began to decrease and the heightened sensitivity slowly faded, they found each other tangled in a comfortable embrace, their bodies still humming from the recent high. He held her close, her body nestling perfectly against him, their heartbeats synchronizing in the tranquility of the afterglow.

“Are you okay?” he murmured into her hair, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare skin, the intimacy of the question matching the intimacy they had just shared. A simple “Mhm.” was her content response, her warm breath fanning over his chest, lulling him into a sense of serene comfort.

He rolled onto his side, pulling her along with him, tucking her against his body so that her head rested on his chest, right over his heart. His fingers explored her body in a different way now, absent of lust but filled with an overwhelming affection. His touch was tender this time – a worshipful appreciation of her presence and trust in him.

“Promise me,” he began, his voice but a soft murmur seeping into the room’s stillness. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, those usually playful eyes now filled with a seriousness that she rarely saw, “Promise me we’ll always be there for each other like we are now.”

“I promise,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his chest, right above his heart where his promise was undoubtedly echoed. The seriousness of his gaze made her heart flutter, and despite the mild surprise, she knew there wasn’t a single doubt in her mind. His arm around her tightened, a silent acknowledgment of their shared promise.

From then on, it wasn’t just the cuddling or the lingering kisses they shared. It was the unsaid promises and the whispered vows amid silence. It was how he looked at her like she was his entire world. They held each other as if reassuring themselves of the other’s presence. It was the intimacy and the affection that filled the room – something that was long overdue and now would never be lacking again.

“I’m going to miss you, Min.” She uttered. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, as if she was afraid her words might shatter the tranquility of their intimate moment.

Minhyuk let out a soft sigh, his fingers lightly stroking her hair. He didn’t want her to worry about the future, not when they were wrapped up in each other’s arms in the present.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He murmured, his tone gentle, reassuring. “I’m here tomorrow, too. I’m all yours. We could stay in bed all day, order out if we have to.”

When she nodded against his chest, he continued. “And when I’m done with my service, I will take some time off. We can spend that time together. No distractions, no obligations. Just you and me.”

“Promise?” She asked, her voice quivering slightly, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears at his words, her heart swelling with love and affection for him.

“I promise,” he affirmed without hesitation, tightening his arms around her in a comforting hold. His plans were sincere, a future sculpted around them. His words were an unsaid promise, an understanding that their bond isn’t transitory, just paused for the better. The weight of his words hung in the air, an oath sworn and received, a pledge of a future where their love held prominence.

“And there’s something else I promise,” he said, his voice quiet yet steady as he locked his gaze with hers, a seriousness reflecting in his usually playful eyes. He took a deep breath as if gathering his courage before continuing. “When I’m done serving, and I’m back, I... I want to marry you.”

The words sunk into the room’s silence, like a stone thrown in a still lake, leaving ripples of reactions on her face. His proposal was straightforward and earnest, a confession that came from the depths of his heart. He was offering a future, not of doubts but of certainty. He was offering a life together to brave any storm that would come their way.

“I’ve thought about this for a while,” he admitted, his arms holding her closer. “I know it’s a big decision, and I don’t want you to rush your answer.” He sighed, his thumb gently brushing a tear away that had trickled down her cheek. “I want you to be sure.”

“But yeah,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I’m selfish. I want you by my side. Your presence and support… mean more to me than anything else. I want us to face the future together, no matter how tough the tides get. I want us to stand together, always.”

His confession was an admittance of his feelings, indicating the depth of their relationship. Despite his remark about being selfish, it was anything but that. His words were sincere, representing a pure soul who loved unconditionally. The promise was less of an assurance and more of a humble request stemming from intense love and admiration for her.

“What do you think?” Minhyuk asked, his voice heavy with anticipation, his eyes searching hers for an answer. He wanted to know her thoughts and feelings about this proposal and their future together.

“I think we’re going to have a beautiful future together,” she responded, her voice filled with a rare kind of certainty. A soft smile stretched across her face, her eyes twinkling with joy. She’d been waiting for him to voice these words for a long time.

“I cannot wait to find out,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. Minhyuk felt a surge of joy, a relief washing over him. He pulled her closer into an embrace, one that was light with promise and happiness. They cuddled together and held each other close, letting the silence encase them as they reveled in the promise of a future together.

Their story concluded on a hopeful note; the future was uncertain, but their feelings for each other were not. The promises they made and the love they shared overshadowed everything else. The true story was just beginning, a journey of two souls intertwined, bound by a promise of a lifetime.

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