#yubinism

[yubinism]

what i needed exactly to end my friday night🥰 all of it was so cute, my cheeks can't stop hurting from smiling as im writing this review. writing is a vast and diverse range of genres meshed together, and i love how you always try different things and keep your field and choices wide. honestly, we don't get much mxm fics here as one might not be that open to it but reading this makes my heart squeeze. i applaud you for trying different colors. this fic not only sweetened my day but also made it 100000x better. thank you for writing this effie, i am and will always be very proud of you 🤍

BELONGING.

Bangchan x reader x Lee Know. (s,f)

Synopsis: Chan and Minho’s life together takes a surprising turn when an unexpected visitor arrives on the night of their anniversary. (14,2k words)

Author's note: Just a heartwarming read to sweeten your day ♡

Beep, beep, beep.

The keypad continuously beeping for a while after Chan entered the wrong passcode to unlock the door. His neighbor peeks through the door to check if someone is trying to break into the apartment next door but she sees Chan instead.

"Sorry for the noise," he apologizes with a courteous smile.

After knowing that Chan is simply struggling to get into his own apartment, his neighbor goes back inside and closes the door.

Chan tries another combination of numbers but it beeps again rather aggressively than before and it only aggravates him more. He groans out of frustration and immediately takes a deep breathe to calm himself down.

"Let's think, Chan!" He mutters to himself.

Just as he’s about to punch in another random sequence of numbers, the door swings open from the inside, and Minho stands there with his arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

“You know, if you actually came home at a decent hour, you'd remember the passcode,” Minho says, his tone somewhere between annoyance and playful teasing. He steps aside, holding the door open wide enough for Chan to step through.

Chan sighs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he slips off his shoes. “Minho, seriously, I’m sorry. Work made me come home late again. But…changing the passcode?”

Minho shrugs nonchalantly, but Chan can see the faint trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, you always said you like a good challenge, right?”

Chan gives him a weary smile and lets his bag slide off his shoulder, dropping it by the entrance. “I didn’t realize our front door would be one of them.”

Later that night, they’re lying side by side in bed, the room dimly lit by the streetlight filtering through the blinds. Minho has his back to Chan, his posture stiff as he scrolls through his phone, doing his best to ignore the presence hovering beside him.

Chan shifts closer, trying to bridge the distance. He knows Minho is still upset about him coming home late and made him wait.

“Minho,” he whispers, nudging him gently but there’s no response, only the silent, stubborn rise and fall of Minho’s shoulders.

So, Chan decides to up his game. He slides an arm around Minho’s waist, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry,” he murmurs, voice low and warm against Minho’s skin. “You know I’d come home sooner if I could.”

Minho sighs but doesn’t pull away, though his fingers still tap insistently on his phone screen. Taking this as a tiny victory, Chan smiles and leans in closer, kissing his way from Minho’s shoulder up to his jaw.

“I missed you,” Chan says softly, his lips grazing Minho’s cheek. “Every time I looked at the clock, I thought about you waiting here.”

Minho’s fingers finally still, though he tries to keep his composure. “You’re so dramatic,” he mutters, but there’s a hint of a smile in his voice.

Undeterred, Chan presses a series of playful, lingering kisses along Minho’s cheek, all the way to his temple.

“Is it working?” he whispers. “Are you caving?”

“Not even close,” Minho replies, but he rolls over to face Chan, his expression softened, eyes bright with the faintest glimmer of affection he’s trying to hide.

Chan’s grin widens. “Then I’ll keep trying,” he says, leaning down to plant a kiss on Minho’s forehead.

“And trying… and trying…” Each word is punctuated by a gentle kiss, until Minho finally breaks, laughter spilling from his lips as he pushes Chan’s face away.

“Fine! I get it, you’re forgiven!” Minho says, half-laughing, half-sighing, letting Chan’s arm wrapped around him.

Chan chuckles softly, pulling him in for a tight hug that Minho half-heartedly resists for a moment before melting into. They settle into each other, Minho finally letting himself relax against Chan’s warmth.

As their breathing syncs, Chan presses one last, tender kiss on Minho’s neck, a silent promise that he’ll be there, even on the late nights, and for a second, Chan thinks that maybe this is what makes every exhausting day worthwhile.

-

The bathroom is filled with the sound of running water as Chan stands in front of the mirror, toothbrush in hand, still half-asleep as he lazily brushes his teeth even though he's just showered. A towel hanging low around his hips, his curly hair is damp, and beads of water dotted the skin on his back yet a sleepy gaze is fixed on his reflection, half-lidded and unfocused.

Minho leans against the bathroom doorway, arms crossed, watching him with a small smirk.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he says, voice teasing. “Just a reminder, there's that dinner tonight and if you’re late, I swear, I’m serving you burnt beef Wellington.”

Chan freezes mid-brush, then meets Minho’s eyes in the mirror, a lazy smile spreading across his face. He spits out the toothpaste, rinsing his mouth as he chuckles.

“You’d actually burn dinner just to teach me a lesson?”

Minho raises an eyebrow, challenging him. “Try me.”

Stepping over to where Minho stands, Chan wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Not this time,” he says, his voice soft but full of warmth. “I’ll be home early. Promise.”

Minho’s eyes soften, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks as he tries to keep up the tough act.

“Good. You’d better not leave me waiting,” he murmurs, trying to sound stern but failing as his gaze drifts to Chan’s bare chest.

Chan laughs, giving Minho a light squeeze. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve planned.”

As Chan finishes brushing his teeth and about to step out of the bathroom, he catches Minho’s eyes lingering on him, trying—and failing—to look completely unimpressed.

“Like what you see?” he teases, leaning down just enough to bring their faces close, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Maybe I should come home a little late… keep you waiting a bit longer, yeah?”

Minho crosses his arms, rolling his eyes as if entirely unfazed, though there’s a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“Try it,” he says, tilting his chin defiantly. “See what you end up eating tonight.”

Chan chuckles, pretending to look hurt as he tries again. “Not even a little distracted?” he asks, his hand moving to Minho’s waist, pulling him in closer. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.”

But Minho’s having none of it. He reaches up and gently pushes Chan’s face back with one hand, his tone cool and unwavering.

“You’re not charming your way out of this one,” he says firmly, though there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “You’re either on time tonight, or it’s burnt Wellington and instant noodles.”

Laughing, Chan lets his hands drop, backing off as he raises them in mock surrender. “Alright, alright,” he grins.

“Point taken. I’ll be on time.” He winks as he heads back to the bedroom to get dressed, throwing a playful look over his shoulder. “But you’ll have to admit I tried my best.”

Minho just rolls his eyes again, but he’s smiling this time, muttering under his breath, “You’re impossible.”

But as he watches Chan disappear down the hall, there’s a warmth lingering in his chest, the anticipation of their night together filling him with a quiet happiness.

-

Minho smooths down his shirt one last time, casting a quick glance at the clock. Just as the second hand ticks to the hour, there’s a knock on the door. He smiles to himself—right on time. Guess he really did take me seriously, he thinks.

He opens the door to find Chan standing there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a grin on his face.

Minho raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Flowers? Really?”

Chan laughs, holding them out at him. “Thought I’d do something classic. Happy anniversary!” he says, his tone softening.

Feigning disinterest, Minho takes the flowers, sniffing them briefly. “Hmm, not bad,” he says, pretending to inspect them critically. “You almost look like you know what you’re doing.”

Chan just shakes his head, smirking as he slips inside, brushing a quick kiss over Minho’s cheek. “Glad I could impress you… even just a little.”

As they settle into their anniversary dinner, Chan savors the first bite and lets out an exaggerated sigh.

“Alright, you’ve officially outdone yourself,” he says, beaming at Minho. “You should make beef Wellington every night.”

Minho rolls his eyes, but there’s a pleased flush to his cheeks. “Don’t get used to it,” he replies, lifting his glass with a faint smile. “Next time, it might actually be burnt.”

Chan chuckles, reaching over to squeeze Minho’s hand and decides to tease him more by saying cheesy things, he knows how much Minho hates it whenever he does that.

“I don’t care what it is, as long as I’m eating it with you.”

They eat and talk, laughter filling the cozy space as they share memories and jokes, their glances softening as the evening draws on. Finally, when most of the food is gone, Chan leans in across the table, his fingers brushing Minho’s as he says.

“Compliments to the chef are not enough so...” he lets his words trail off as he pulls Minho in for a lingering kiss.

As usual, Minho doesn't easily caves in, he makes Chan works harder to make him return the kiss and when he finally does, Chan triumphantly smiles against his lips.

After a while, Chan takes a second to breath and just as their lips about to meet again, a sudden ring of the doorbell interrupts the quiet warmth.

Minho groans, pulling back reluctantly and leans on his seat. “If that’s another surprise from you, I swear I’ll hate it,” he mutters.

Chan laughs, reluctantly letting Minho’s hand go as he gets up from his chair and heads toward the door.

“It’s not,” he calls over his shoulder, “unless it’s flowers that somehow reappear.”

Chan opens the door and freezes, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the figure standing in the hallway. It’s you, your gaze lowered, fingers fidgeting nervously. You lift your eyes to meet his, offering a small, shy smile.

“Hi, Chan,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “I'm sorry I... I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

For a second, neither of you speaks, the silence filling the space between you. Finally, Chan steps aside, his surprise shifting into something gentler.

“Come on in,” he says, voice warm despite his initial shock.

As you step inside, you look over your shoulder and give a nod. A little girl emerges from behind you, clutching a small stuffed animal and looking up at Chan with wide, curious eyes. You rest a gentle hand on her shoulder, steadying yourself. “This is my daughter, Lucy.”

Chan’s eyes widen, glancing between you and the little girl by your side, his heart pounding as he tries to make sense of the unexpected reunion.

-

THREE YEARS AGO

Chan had been looking forward to this moment the entire week. After days away on a work trip, all he could think about was coming home, seeing your face light up when he walked through the door, wrapping his arms around you.

But when he finally stepped inside, there was no excited smile, no warmth rushing into his arms. You greeted him with a polite smile, a quiet “Welcome back,” before turning back to whatever you were doing, the energy between you strange and muted.

He blinked, pushing down the faint pang of disappointment, telling himself you were probably just tired. “Hey,” he murmured, walking over to you, trying to shake off the feeling. “Missed you.”

You glanced up at him, your expression softening for a moment, but something in your eyes seemed… distant, like you were holding something back.

“Missed you too,” you replied, but the words felt hollow, like they were coming from a place far away.

Chan hesitated, then shook it off with a chuckle, pulling you into his arms despite the subtle tension he felt between you. “I swear, if I had to be away from one more day, I was ready to quit,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

You managed a small smile, letting him hold you, but your arms didn’t wrap around him the way they usually did, your hold tentative, almost reluctant.

He couldn’t help himself from asking, he looked at you with a hint of worry in his eyes. “Is everything okay?” he asked gently. “You seem… different.”

You got a bit startled by the question, and for a moment, there was something in your eyes—fear, uncertainty—but you quickly looked away, forcing a smile.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired,” you replied, voice calm but distant.

“Now, what do you say we make up for lost time?” He asked as he tilted your head, forcing you to meet his gaze.

It somehow worked to get you to smile and soften around him, you melted into his arms as he held you close and then slowly, he pulled you for a long, lingering kiss that cures his longing for you.

Without letting go of the kiss, Chan hoisted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to bed.

He gently lay you down on the bed and then stood at the foot of the bed just looking at you with admiration pooling in his eyes.

He crawled onto the bed and hovered above you, his face only inches away from yours as he cupped your cheek and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"I missed you so much I think I'm going insane," he murmurs before crashing his lips against yours again.

He sensed hesitancy in the way you returning his kiss but he convinced himself that maybe you were tired, maybe his long absence put a little strain on this relationship and he wanted to fix it in any way he could.

"Do you know?" He buried his head in your neck, planting fluttering kisses that he knew would help to relax you. He knew it works from the way you softly giggled. "There’s not a night where I didn’t think of kissing you."

Chan began making a trail of kisses down your clothed body and when his mouth reached your thighs, he purposely slipped his head under the hem of your dress. You couldn't see what he was doing under but you gasped when his hot mouth made a contact with your clothed sex.

The flimsy fabric of your underwear didn't stop him from opening his mouth wider to take more of you and drenching it with a mix of his saliva and your essence.

After a while though, he craved more than feeling you through your underwear, he roughly pulled your underwear down and pushed the hem of your dress upward until it hunched around your waist.

Chan put his hands under you and slightly lifted your hips off the bed to provide him with the right angle to savor your wet cunt with his mouth. You knew what his mouth is capable of doing, you knew he would tirelessly please you with his plush lips and slick tongue and at the same time, enjoying it cause you knew he gets pleasure from doing it.

He licked, he sucked, he buried half of his face in your wetness and you continously moaned, but it wasn’t enough for him.

Soon, his fingers joined in, two digits pumping in and out of you while he gently sucked on your clit, syncing the two stimulations to give you the utmost of pleasure.

"Oh, God!" You moaned as you arched your back asking for more.

He detached his mouth but kept the motion of his fingers going, his lips were glistening wet as he said, "Yes, baby, moan for me."

Your hand flew to his hair and tugged at it as more moans spilling out of your parted mouth. "Chan... oh..."

Chan triumphantly smiled for succeeding on getting you out of whatever made you seem different and bringing you back to him. He landed a soft kiss on your clit and then another one on the little patch of hair.

"That’s it," he murmured as he saw the way you were writhing in pleasure, "That’s my girl."

There was only one left thing to do and that was to make sure you reach your high, Chan kept the stimulations going and added a little speed to it, bringing you toward your climax until you—

"Oh, I'm coming..." you cried as you clamped his hand between your legs.

Chan didn't pull away just yet, he kept his hand there and gave your clit gentle circles to help you slowly coming down your high. He lowered his mouth on you and kissed your open mouth, letting your satisfed moans spilled into his mouth.

Breaking the kiss, Chan sat up on the bed and took off his dark t-shirt, exposing his sculpted abs that glows under the silver moonlight. He slyly smiled at you, taking your hand in his and brought it close to his mouth to kiss it. He put your hand on his neck next, then slowly, he dragged it down his front. He whimpered as your fingertips trailing down his pale skin and not stopping until your hand meets the waistband of his jeans.

"And now, my question is..." He mutterd as he keeps your hand on his lower abdomen, "Do you think about me too?"

His other hand worked open his jeans, the sound of the zipper opening cutting through the silence in the room. He pulled his jeans along with boxer down just enough to let his erection sprang free.

"Did you also think of me?" He asked as he wrapped your hand around his cock, swollen and hot to the touch.

He made your hand stroking it along with him and his eyes were fluttering as he enjoyed feeling your hand pumping his cock.

"Or this cock?" He asked again as he made your other hand joined in on pumping his cock. He then let go of his hands and letting you touched his cock the way you pleased and propped them against the mattress next to your head.

He leaned in close enough and placed a brief kiss that barely lasted a second. "Did you think of me at all?"

You repeatedly nodded in answer. "Yeah."

"Yeah? Think of me what?"

"Being inside me," your voice low it was almost like a whisper.

He caressed your cheek and placed another brief kiss on your lips. "Is that what you want right now?"

"Yes," you nodded again.

His head went to the side of your head and planted a kiss on the sensitive skin behind your ear. "All you have to do is say it," he whispered to you.

You waited until he hovered above you again and looked him in the eyes as you said. "I want you inside me."

Chan fondly smiled as he held you by the way, "I'll give it to you, baby."

In the moment that followed, he fulfilled your wish, pushing his cock deep inside you and began thrusting at a steady pace. In each thrust, he lost a layer of his senses and gave himself in to desire. Raw groans and desperate calls for your name endlessly coming out of his mouth.

At one point, you pulled your legs and in this angle, you provided him with more depth. Your hands lingered on each side of his waist and at times, glanced down to see his cock slipped in and out of you.

"Oh, baby..." you moaned as you clung to his shoulders and pulled him close to kiss him. "You feel so good inside me."

He hastily kissed you and through his gritted teeth, he muttered, "You feel good around me too."

With that, Chan slowed down but added intensity to his thrust, making you feel every drag of his cock against your walls. He didn't feel pressure to hold back as you cum already but he chose to keep going, wanting to stretch this moment as long as possible.

He kissed you and then pressed his forehead against yours, his hands groped around the sheets until he found yours and clasped them together.

"Can I cum inside you, baby?" He sweetly asked with a soft kiss on your jaw. "Want to fill you with my love."

"Yes," you whined as you pulled him closer and wrapped your legs around him tighter.

Chan buried his head in your neck, kissing and sucking on the skin there as the pleasure got too overwhelming too him. He dragged his mouth lower and took your breast into his mouth, roughly biting at it as he sped up, thrusting into you relentlessly until he came to his release.

Instead of pulling away, he pushed himself deep into you as he released his seed, along with a deep kiss that takes all of your breath away.

When he settled next to you on the bed, he took your hand and didn't let go, he kissed your knuckle, your palm, your inner wrist, he shoved your index and middle fingers into his mouth and gently sucked on them before pulled them away. He rested your hand close to his chest then turned his head to look at you. He saw the same fondness in your eyes but in that moment, he saw something else, something that looked almost like sadness.

"I love you," he said because he didn't know what else to do but convinced you that he's there for you, both physically and emotionally. He cupped your face and he saw as you leaned to it, finding the comfort you seek in the warmth of his palm.

"I love you too," you said back with a faint smile and in a split moment, everything felt alright again.

However, as the night went on, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Usually, you’d be telling him everything he missed, filling the air with stories and laughter. He wanted to believe you and that you were just tired, to shrug it off as nothing, but that nagging feeling stayed with him, growing stronger with each passing day, until the night you broke his heart and walked away without another word.

A week after that night, Chan’s world felt like it was tilting, spinning in slow, unbearable circles as he looked at you, trying to process the words you’d just spoken.

“You want to… break up?” he managed, his voice rough with disbelief.

You stood across from him, your expression a carefully held mask. “I think it’s best for both of us,” you said softly, but there was a tremor to your voice that betrayed you.

He shook his head, stepping forward, hands reaching for yours, desperately searching your face for something—anything—that would make this make sense.

“But…why?” he stammered, his voice breaking slightly. “Is it because I’ve been so busy? Because of work? I know I haven’t been around enough, but I’ll do better, I swear. I’ll make more time for us.”

You gently pulled your hands from his grasp, looking down, avoiding his eyes. “It’s not that, Chan. I… I just think it’s better this way.” Your voice was firm, but he could see the conflict in your expression, a hint of pain flickering across your features before you forced it away.

“Better?” he echoed, voice barely above a whisper. “How could breaking up be better?”

He felt the familiar ache in his chest deepen, like a wound reopening, bleeding anew. “We’re good together,” he insisted, almost pleading. “I thought… I thought you felt that, too.”

You swallowed, looking away, pressing your lips together as if to keep something from spilling out. “Please, Chan. Don’t make this harder.”

Chan took a shaky breath, still trying to keep his composure. “Please, just tell me what I did wrong. Tell me what to fix, and I’ll fix it. I’ll do anything.”

Your shoulders stiffened, and for a fleeting second, he thought he saw something—a glint of sorrow, maybe even regret—but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“It’s nothing you did, Chan,” you said finally, your voice a strained whisper. “But… this is something I need to do.”

With that, you turned away, your steps steady as you walked out the door, leaving him frozen in place, watching you leave, unable to find the words to bring you back.

In the months that followed, Chan tried to move on, throwing himself deeper into work, but everywhere he went, there were memories of you, reminders of a life he had thought would be forever.

It took him a long time, a painful journey through grief and self-doubt, before he could let himself heal, before he could feel whole again. It wasn’t until he met Minho—sharp, sarcastic, and somehow healing—that he began to find peace with what had happened.

-

Now, as Chan stands in the doorway, staring at you and the little girl by your side, the past seems to come rushing back, all the hurt, confusion, and lingering questions he’s tried so hard to leave behind.

As you step inside his home, you take a quick, nervous breath, your gaze shifting to your daughter, who’s still holding onto your hand, eyes wide as she takes in her new surroundings.

You look down at her, giving her a soft smile. “Lucy, this is Chan. Say hello.”

Lucy peers up at him, clutching her stuffed animal tightly. “Hi,” she says shyly, her voice barely a whisper.

Chan crouches down to her level, a warm, welcoming smile on his face. “Hey, Lucy. I’m Chan,” he says gently, offering her a small wave. “I’m a friend of your mom’s.”

She nods, a hint of curiosity lighting up her eyes as she glances up at you for reassurance.

Minho steps into the room, casting a curious look between you, Chan, and Lucy, but he only offers a polite nod and a soft “Hi” to Lucy, who gives him a timid smile in return.

You take a deep breath, then gently squeeze Lucy’s hand. “Lucy, could you stay here for a bit? Mommy just need to talk to Chan, okay?”

“I’ll show you around,” Minho kindly offers, his tone calm and welcoming.

Lucy looks from you to Minho, who nods with a warm, reassuring smile, and after one last glance at you, she lets go of your hand and follows Minho into the living room.

Once Lucy is out of earshot, you follow Chan into a nearby room, nerves tightening your stomach as he closes the door behind you. He turns to face you, his expression soft but concerned, waiting for you to speak.

“Chan,” you begin, voice barely above a whisper. You look down, struggling to find the right words.

“I… I’m in a bad situation right now. I got evicted and I don’t have anywhere else to go. I didn’t want to bother you, but…” You trail off, unable to finish the thought, the weight of your circumstances pressing down on you.

Chan’s face softens, a look of quiet understanding in his eyes as he steps closer. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says gently, reaching out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to explain everything right now. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

You look up, surprise flickering in your eyes. “Are you sure?” you ask, still hesitant. “I don’t want to be a burden. I just… I need a few days to figure things out.”

Chan shakes his head, his voice warm and reassuring. “You’re not a burden. You can stay as long as you need. Don’t worry about anything else. Just focus on what you need to do.”

The kindness in his words catches you off guard, a wave of relief washing over you. After everything that’s happened, the simple act of having a place to stay, a place where you’re welcome, feels like a gift.

You fight back your years and manage a faint smile, nodding. “Thank you, Chan. Really.”

Chan smiles back, his hand giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Anytime. Just know… you don’t have to go through this alone.”

The past month hasn't been kind to you and hearing those words from Chan is really comforting. There's a lump caught in your throat and it burns the more you hold yourself back from crying. You drop your head and begin crying, feeling like you can finally breathe after what felt like forever.

Attentively, Chan opens his arms and gently pulls you, he's holding you close, his hands land soothing rubs on your back.

"It’s okay, it's okay..." he repeatedly says, "You're here now."

-

Minho watches Lucy from his spot on the couch, noticing the way her eyes droop as she leans into the cushions. She’s small and quiet, with an unmistakable look of fatigue that tugs at something unexpectedly soft within him.

He glances toward the closed door where you and Chan are talking, catching snatches of the conversation as he sits with Lucy in the quiet of the living room. Words like “nowhere else to go” and “thank you” float through, hinting at the weight of the situation.

Minho’s fingers tap against his knee, mind racing as he pieces together fragments, but he quickly turns his attention back to Lucy as she shifts, curling up on the couch. Her little head nods, struggling to stay upright.

Seeing her like that, Minho gets up and slowly pushes the door open. He hears your cries and as the door swing further in ward, he catches you and Chan sharing an embrace.

Minho clears his throat to make his presence known and you quickly break away from Chan's hold, your back facing him.

“She’s looking pretty tired,” he keeps his voice low, gesturing to the couch and then glancing from Chan to you.

Chan looks at you and gives you a reassuring smile, then nods to Minho. “Yeah, I think we should get you and Lucy settled.”

Chan guides you and Lucy down the hall, showing you to a cozy guest room and making sure you have everything you need. You manage a grateful smile as you settle Lucy into bed, smoothing a blanket over her. With a final, gentle look, Chan closes the door, allowing you both some rest.

Later that night, as Minho and Chan lie side by side in the darkness, Chan wraps an arm around Minho’s waist, pulling him close. Minho can feel the tension in Chan’s hold, the way he hesitates before speaking.

“I’m sorry,” Chan whispers, his voice rough with sincerity. “I know this isn’t how I wanted our anniversary to go.”

Minho rests his hand over Chan’s, giving it a soft squeeze. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, trying to sound casual. “Plans change, right?”

Chan lets out a low sigh of relief, resting his head against Minho’s shoulder. “Are you… are you okay with them staying here?”

Minho hesitates, weighing his words. He can feel the questions bubbling up inside him, each one itching to be asked, but he swallows them down, forcing a calm smile instead.

“It’s fine, Chan,” he says, keeping his tone light. “It’s just a few days, right? I don’t mind.”

But as he lies there, his mind races with silent questions. Who is this little girl to Chan? Why did you show up now, after all this time? And what else might this mean for them?

He doesn’t voice any of it, though, just pulls Chan closer, letting him feel his support without pressing him for answers.

-

Minho stirs awake to the sound of soft clinking coming from the kitchen. He stretches, rubbing his eyes, and glances over to see Chan still fast asleep. Carefully slipping out of bed, he heads down the hallway, only to pause at the sight before him.

There you are, bustling around the kitchen, and at the dining table, Lucy sits munching on her breakfast, her legs swinging as she hums quietly to herself.

Minho can’t help but feel a pang of surprise—and unease. Usually, breakfast is his thing, the quiet, calming start to his morning. And now, someone else is filling that space.

You glance up from the stove and notice him, offering a warm smile. “Good morning! I made breakfast—I hope it’s okay.”

Minho nods politely, though he can’t shake the hint of awkwardness. “Morning,” he murmurs, glancing at the table as you set down a plate of food. “Thanks for, uh… taking care of it.”

You nod, busying yourself with the final touches. “I have to leave early for work, but Lucy’s all set.” You look over at Lucy, smiling softly as you fuss over her hair, straightening her shirt.

Turning back to Minho, you give him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for asking this, but could you keep an eye on her today? I really appreciate it.”

Before Minho can respond, you’re already grabbing your bag and heading toward the door. You bend down, planting a quick kiss on Lucy’s cheek. “Bye, sweetheart. Be good, okay?

Lucy looks up at you, nodding earnestly. “Yes, Mommy.”

“Mommy will be back soon.” You add with another kiss on the top of her head and with a final wave, you slip out, leaving Minho alone with Lucy.

Minho sighs, looking over at Lucy, who’s now staring at him with wide, curious eyes. He tries to shake off the discomfort, making his way around the kitchen to tidy up after breakfast, but every time he turns, he notices Lucy quietly trailing behind him, her tiny footsteps padding across the floor.

When he goes to do the laundry, she follows him, watching as he loads clothes into the machine, fascinated by every button he presses. When he heads out to water the plants on the balcony, she’s there too, gazing up at him with her big, unblinking eyes.

Minho feels his patience wearing thin. It’s not that he dislikes kids, but he can’t shake the feeling that his routine, his space, has been thrown off balance. Finally, he decides he’s had enough. He heads back to the bedroom and shakes Chan’s shoulder lightly.

“Hey,” he murmurs, casting a glance at the door, where Lucy is still peeking in. “Time to wake up. You have… company.”

Chan opens his eyes slowly, blinking at Minho in confusion before he sits up, glancing at Lucy and then back at Minho, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“She can't stop following me,” Minho whispers at him.

Chan rubs the sleep off his eyes and mumbles, "She probably just wants to play with you."

Minho sighs, crossing his arms, trying to mask the faint flush of embarrassment. “She’s your guest. Maybe it’s time you take over the babysitting shift.”

Chan chuckles, reaching out to give Minho’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Alright, alright. I’ll take care of her.” He swings his legs over the side of the bed, giving Minho a playful grin. “Besides, she seems to like you.”

Minho rolls his eyes, the faintest smile breaking through. “Yeah, well… she’s all yours now.”

-

As Chan watches Minho retreat to the kitchen with a faintly flustered expression, he can’t help but chuckle to himself. It’s rare to see Minho even slightly unsettled, but here he is, almost looking threatened by the presence of a two-year-old.

“She’s just a kid, Minho,” Chan murmurs under his breath, shaking his head with a soft smile.

Recalling the message you left for him, Chan retrieves the bag of Lucy’s toys from where you’d placed it by the door. He brings it to the living room and kneels down on the carpeted floor, setting out a colorful array of blocks, stuffed animals, and dolls. Lucy’s face lights up instantly, her small hands reaching eagerly for the toys as she plops down beside him.

“Is it your favorite toy?” Chan gently asks as he lays out all of her toys in front of her.

“Yup!” Lucy adorably nods.

They fall into an easy rhythm, building towers of blocks, arranging tiny stuffed animals in a pretend tea party. Chan’s heart warms watching her giggle with delight each time a tower of blocks comes crashing down.

It’s during one of these rounds of playful destruction that Chan catches Minho’s figure hovering in the doorway, his arms crossed as he watches them with an unreadable expression. Minho’s gaze flickers between Chan and Lucy, his brow furrowing just slightly.

A mischievous thought crosses Chan’s mind as he gets up and strides over to Minho, grinning. “Don’t tell me you're jealous because she’s cuter than you,” he teases, his tone light and playful.

Minho scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Please. I’m not worried about some toddler stealing my spotlight,” he replies coolly, but Chan can see the faint blush creeping up his cheeks, the way his shoulders tense ever so slightly.

Chan steps closer, his voice softening as he reaches up to playfully scratches Minho’s ear. “Hey,” he murmurs, holding Minho’s gaze, “nothing’s changed, alright? Just because she’s here doesn’t mean there’s any less of me for you.”

With that, he leans in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to Minho’s lips. Minho’s posture softens, his hands sliding around Chan’s waist as he lets out a quiet sigh, leaning into the kiss.

When they pull apart, Minho gives him a small, begrudging smile. “Fine,” he mutters, attempting to sound unaffected. “But don’t expect me to join any tea parties anytime soon.”

Chan laughs, squeezing Minho’s hand. “Noted,” he says, casting a glance back at Lucy, who’s now absorbed in her toys, babbling happily to herself. With a playful nudge, Chan heads back to the carpet, leaving Minho watching with a half-smile as he sits down to continue playing with Lucy.

-

"Dinner's ready!" Minho announces from the kitchen but no one is answering him.

He turns his head toward the living room and sees that Chan and Lucy are still busy playing, her giggles echoing in the room for any of them to hear Minho’s call for dinner.

Minho sighs and raises his voice louder. "Dinner's ready!"

Chan abruptly stops lifting Lucy in the air and puts her down, offering his hand to walk hand in hand to the kitchen. He takes her to wash her hands first before settling her on her dining table.

As they sit down for dinner, Minho carefully plates the food, setting each dish on the table with his usual precision. He watches as Chan gives Lucy a warm smile, helping her settle in her seat and making sure she’s comfortable.

Throughout the meal, Minho notices Chan’s gentle attention on Lucy—wiping the sauce from her cheek, cutting her food into bite-sized pieces, and patiently coaxing her to eat each bite.

At one point, Chan looks up and catches Minho’s bitter expression. “Hm…” he sniffs the air dramatically, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Is it just me, or does something smell a little… burnt in here?”

Minho narrows his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch in a faint smile. “Please, I’m not jealous,” he scoffs, trying to sound indifferent as he continues eating.

Chan laughs, giving Minho an affectionate nudge. “Whatever you say.”

After dinner, they all move to the living room, where Chan and Lucy settle in front of the TV to watch cartoons. Minho sits at the far end of the sofa, arms crossed, but his gaze keeps drifting toward the two of them cuddled up together.

Noticing Minho’s pout, Chan reaches out, giving him a playful tug. “Come here, Mr. Not Jealous,” he teases, wrapping an arm around him. “There’s room for all three of us.”

Minho sighs, pretending to resist, but eventually leans in, allowing Chan to pull him close. “Fine,” he mumbles, as Chan presses a soft kiss to his temple.

As they sit together, Chan tightens his hold, smiling at Minho. “See? Perfect little family moment,” he whispers, his tone both teasing and gentle.

Minho rolls his eyes but allows himself to relax, a reluctant smile finally breaking through as he nestles into Chan’s embrace, soothed by the warmth they share.

Menacingly, he puts away Lucy’s hand resting on Chan’s chest and replaces it with his while Chan can only chuckles witnessing it.

A moment later, there are beeping sounds coming from the front door and Chan rolls his eyes toward Minho in suspicion.

"You changed the passcode again, did you?" Chan asks with his eyes squinted.

With a smirk on his face, Minho nonchalantly shrugs and it's enough to tell Chan the answer.

-

"0-1-0-9."

You fumble with the numbers Chan had texted you, pressing them carefully into the keypad, but each time, the door refuses to unlock. After a few more tries, you’re about to give up when the door finally swings open, revealing a sheepish-looking Chan.

“Sorry about that,” he says, scratching the back of his neck.

“Minho changed the passcode and forgot to tell me.” He gives you a small, apologetic smile.

You shrug, offering a quick nod before stepping inside. “It’s fine,” you reply, smiling slightly as Lucy comes running toward you, arms outstretched.

“Mommy!” she squeals, hugging your legs. You scoop her up, brushing her hair back from her face as you carry her toward her room.

“And why are you still up?” You ask her.

Lucy sheepishly gestures toward the living room where the TV plays her favorite cartoons. “Watching cartoons,” she mumbles.

“It's past your bedtime, young lady,” you tell her with a playful glare. Pausing near Chan and Minho, you give her a gentle nudge. “Say goodnight, Lucy.”

She waves her tiny hand sleepily, mumbling, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, cutie Lucy,” Chan says back and gives her a soft pat on the head before letting you take her away.

A few minutes later, you’re settling Lucy under her blanket, humming a song while caressing her head to send her into sleep.

“Picture yourself in a boat on a river / With tangerine trees and marmalade skies / Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly / A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.”

Once she's fast asleep, you give her a soft kiss on the forehead, straightening as you spot Chan standing in the doorway, watching quietly with an unreadable expression.

“So... Lucy in the sky with diamonds, huh?” he says softly as he finally catches on why you named your daughter Lucy.

“You're finally catching up,” You playfully remark, taking the dirty clothes with you as you come out of the room and you head straight toward the laundry room. As you start sorting clothes, he leans against the doorframe, his tone casual yet curious.

“So… what do you think about all of this?” he asks, gesturing vaguely around, though his gaze lingers on you.

“About you dating... Minho?” you reply, glancing at him with a faint smile.

Chan seems to be taken aback by how accurate your first guess is. "Well... yeah," he sheepishly replies.

“It was a surprise, but then I remember our argument on who is the best Ryan,” you talk as you load your laundry into the washing machine. "And you passionately defended that Ryan Reynolds is hotter than Ryan Gosling."

"And I still stand by it," Chan chuckles, looking momentarily relieved, but his curiosity isn’t quite satisfied. “And… what do you think about Minho? I know it’s been… an adjustment, having you and Lucy here.”

You pause, folding one of Lucy’s shirts as you consider your words. “I haven’t really had a chance to talk to him. But the fact that he doesn’t mind us staying here says a lot. It means he’s a good person.”

Chan nods, seeming to take that in, a small smile touching his lips. “Yeah, he really is,” he murmurs, almost to himself. There’s a warmth in his voice that’s unmistakable, and you can’t help but feel a sense of relief, sensing that your presence here, however temporary, isn’t as disruptive as you’d feared.

With a gentle smile, you add, “I’m happy for you, Chan. You look… happy. It’s nice to see.”

He looks up, meeting your gaze with a quiet gratitude that speaks volumes. “Thanks,” he says softly.

For a moment, the two of you stand there in a comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts, both grateful to find this unexpected peace amidst everything.

As you both lean against the dryer, you slowly turn to face him and look him in the eyes as you say, "I know I'm three years late to this but Chan... I'm sorry."

His hand reaches for your arm and gently squeezes it. "There’s nothing to be sorry about," he assures you with a warm smile.

"We both know I wasn't a good girlfriend and the way I ended things..." you take a second to steady your voice. "I'm fully aware how brazen faced I am for coming here and asking for your help."

Chan’s gaze softens as he takes in your words, his hand lingering on your arm as if to anchor you. “You’re not. You’re just... human,” he replies gently. “I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt, but you did what you felt you needed to do. I get that.”

A faint smile touches your lips, relief mingling with lingering guilt. “Still, you’re here, helping me now after everything. I don’t know if I deserve it.”

“Hey,” he interrupts softly, his tone steady. “Don’t think like that. Everyone deserves help when they need it.”

For a moment, silence falls again between you, but this time, it’s heavier with the weight of unspoken questions. Then Chan finally speaks, his voice filled with a quiet sincerity. “Why didn’t you tell me? You could have told me and you wouldn't have gone through this alone.”

Your gaze drops, a little of the old hurt resurfacing and just like that, you break into tears. You cry into your hands, feeling embarrassed about everything.

Chan pulls you close, holding you close and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He rubs his hand up and down your arm as he mutters. “You will always have me. I'm here.”

You nod, a warmth settling in your chest. It’s not easy letting go of the past, but standing here with Chan, it feels like maybe there’s a new beginning, after all.

-

Minho stretches, eyes blinking open to a peaceful morning. For a fleeting moment, everything feels blissfully normal—no guests, no interruptions, just him and Chan in their cozy space. He savors the silence, letting his eyes close again as he feels the warmth of the bed cocooning him. But then he hears Chan rustling beside him, yawning as he stretches.

“Morning,” Chan murmurs, planting a soft kiss on Minho’s cheek before slipping out of bed.

Minho hums in response, eyes still half-shut, enjoying the lingering quiet.

“Oh,” Chan says, his voice pulling Minho fully awake. “Just a heads up—she left early for a two-day work trip. Said she’d be back soon.”

Minho’s eyes open, the peaceful feeling beginning to fade as he realizes what this means. “Wait,” he says, voice still groggy, “so that means…”

“That means Lucy’s with us,” Chan finishes, a little too cheerfully, as if trying to soften the blow. “Come on, it won’t be that bad.”

Minho doesn't say anything but his pout is apparent so Chan tries another way to soften him. “I'll cook breakfast,” he announces with a quick kiss on his cheek.

Minho sighs, feeling a familiar knot tighten in his stomach. He watches as Chan goes to wake Lucy, who stretches sleepily in her little bed before reaching up for him with a giggle.

“Morning, sweet Lucy!” Chan talks in his baby voice at her and then scoops her up, effortlessly shifting gears into a gentle, playful mode as he carries her to the kitchen.

Dreading the chaos of the next two days, Minho reluctantly drags himself out of bed, following the sound of Chan and Lucy’s laughter down the hall. When he steps into the kitchen, he finds Lucy settled in her high chair, happily munching on a piece of toast while Chan fusses over the coffee maker. Minho watches them, a mix of apprehension and resignation settling in.

Chan glances back at him, a soft, reassuring smile on his face. “It’ll be fine,” he says, as if reading Minho’s thoughts. “We’ve got this, okay?”

Minho sighs but nods, taking a seat across from Lucy as she gives him a crumb-covered smile. As much as he dreads the unfamiliar routine, a small part of him feels… almost grateful for Chan’s confidence. With a reluctant smile of his own, he reaches for a piece of toast, bracing himself for the day ahead.

However, in the afternoon, Chan has to leave to take care of something at the studio. Minho watches as Chan pulls on his jacket, glancing back at him with a smirk.

“She just went down for her nap, so you’re in the clear for a little while,” Chan teases.

He comes up to him and plants a quick peck on his lips, “Just… keep her in one piece until I get back, alright?” he jokingly says.

Minho rolls his eyes, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “I'll try.”

With a final wink, Chan heads out, leaving Minho alone in the quiet apartment. The silence is welcome, if temporary, and he lets out a slow sigh, hoping the next few hours pass smoothly.

An hour later, Lucy stirs awake, her small footsteps padding down the hallway. Minho sets out a plate of snacks for her, guiding her to the couch.

“Stay here, alright?” he says, voice firm. “I’m just going out to the balcony.”

Lucy nods, munching on a cracker as she watches him. Satisfied, Minho heads outside to the small balcony, grabbing the broom as he starts clearing away the damp leaves from the rainy afternoon.

He’s only half-focused when he hears the light patter of tiny feet behind him. Before he can react, Lucy slips on the wet floor, falling to her knees with a small yelp.

Minho rushes to her side, instinctively pulling her up. “Lucy!” he scolds, his voice sharper than he intended. “I told you to stay put! Why can’t you just listen?”

Lucy’s big eyes fill with tears, her lower lip trembling as she starts to cry, her tiny voice breaking as she murmurs, “I want Mommy…”

At her words, Minho’s frustration melts into a pang of guilt. He looks at her, realizing how small and innocent she really is, just a little girl caught up in an unfamiliar world. He takes a deep breath, softening his tone as he gently wipes her tears.

“Hey… I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to yell.”

Lucy sniffles, looking up at him with a mixture of hurt and confusion. Minho feels the weight of her gaze, a new understanding settling over him. She didn’t ask for any of this, and for the first time, he really sees how vulnerable she is.

“Come on, let’s clean those knees,” he murmurs softly, taking her small hand in his as he guides her back inside.

As he bandages her scraped knees, he silently resolves to be gentler, realizing she’s not the cause of his frustration—she’s just an innocent bystander who needs someone to care.

“Does it still hurt?” He asks in slight concerns after covering the scrape on her knee with a bandaid.

Instead of answering, Lucy looks at him with her teary eyes and whines, “I want my Mommy.”

Minho frowns, his phone pressed to his ear as he tries to call you, glancing over at Lucy who’s curled up on the couch, her eyes still red from crying. She clutches a stuffed animal tightly, her gaze flicking between him and the phone, hope evident in her little face.

But after a few rings, the call goes to voicemail. He lets out a quiet sigh, mentally running through other options. If she can’t talk to her mom, he has to figure out some way to cheer her up on his own.

He crouches down beside her, offering her a small, tentative smile. “Hey, Lucy,” he says gently. “How about we eat something? I think we have something special in the fridge.”

Her interest piques slightly, though her expression remains uncertain as she nods.

Minho takes her in his arms and heads to the kitchen, he sits her down on the kitchen island, opening the freezer and pulling out a small tub of ice cream.

“Ice cream?” He asks with a soft smile but deep down he's hoping it works to, at least, make her stop asking for you.

The little girl wipes her wet cheek with the back of her hand and mumbles, “I want strawberry ice cream.”

“Strawberry ice cream for Lucy coming right up!” He cheerfully says.

Minho scoops some into a bowl, topping it with a few sprinkles as Lucy requested. When he hands her the bowl, her eyes light up, the faintest smile breaking through. She takes a cautious spoonful, then another, and before long, her mood visibly brightens.

Minho can’t help but feel a small sense of relief as he watches her savor each bite. “Is it good?” he asks, smiling softly.

Lucy nods, looking up at him with genuine gratitude. “Thank you,” she says, her small voice filled with warmth as she flashes him a fond smile.

Minho’s heart softens at the sight. He hadn’t expected something as simple as ice cream to work so well, but seeing her smile makes him realize that maybe, just maybe, he’s not so bad at this. For the first time, he feels a small connection with her, and it surprises him just how much it means.

-

Chan steps into the apartment, his nerves already on edge. He’s been wondering all day what sort of situation he’ll find when he gets home, half-expecting chaos—or at least a sulking Minho in the aftermath of a toddler-tantrum-filled day. He silently hopes that Minho’s “keep her in one piece” promise has held true.

But as he closes the door, he’s met with… silence.

The calm feels almost suspicious, and he takes a cautious step forward, peeking into the kitchen. His brows lift in surprise when he sees Minho standing at the counter, prepping dinner. And beside him, Lucy is perched on a chair, carefully placing sliced vegetables into a bowl under Minho’s watchful eye.

Chan can’t help but chuckle softly at the sight, folding his arms as he leans against the doorframe. “Wow, I thought you might’ve sent her to the orphanage by now.”

Minho glances over his shoulder, rolling his eyes but unable to hide a small grin. “Trust me, the temptation was there.”

Lucy giggles, glancing up at Minho with a shy smile. Chan’s heart warms at the sight, surprised and a little proud of how well they seem to be getting along.

Chan steps into the kitchen, giving Minho a playful nudge. “Seems like you survived after all,” he teases.

Minho scoffs but gives a reluctant nod. “Barely,” he mutters, though there’s a glimmer of something softer in his eyes as he glances at Lucy. He ruffles her hair as she hands him another handful of vegetables, and for the first time, Chan sees a gentleness there that makes him smile.

“Well,” Chan says, grabbing an apron to join in, “looks like I came home just in time for dinner with my two favorite chefs.”

As the evening winds down and bed time comes, Lucy bounces up to Minho, wrapping her tiny arms around his legs. “Goodnight!” she chirps, looking up at him with a grin.

Minho blinks in surprise, and though he hesitates, he can’t help but smile as he pats her head gently. “Mmh... Goodnight!”

Chan chuckles, scooping her up. “Alright, let's go,” he says, carrying her down the hall to the bedroom. He helps her into her pajamas, tucking her in under the blankets as she nestles into the bed.

“Is Mommy coming home soon?” she asks, her voice small, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

Chan smiles softly, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. “Mommu will be back before you know it. Just one more day, and you’ll see Mommy again.”

He draws hee closer to his side, suddenly feeling protective of her at the reminder that she has no one but you. “So, Lucy, do you like staying here with me?” he curiously asks.

Lucy innocently nods as she stares at his face.

“How about Minho? Did you have fun today with Minho?”

With her eyes getting heavier with each passing second, Lucy nods again. However, Chan can’t help but ask her one more question.

“Do you like me more or Minho more?”

After a while, Lucy confidently answers. "Chan!"

Even though the answer is as expected, Chan triumphantly smiles at that. He presses a soft kiss on the top of Lucy’s head and holds her close.

A yawn slipping out as she snuggles deeper into her pillow. Chan begins to hum her favorite lullaby, his voice soft and soothing as he sings until her eyes finally close and her breathing evens out.

When he looks up, he notices Minho leaning quietly in the doorway, watching them. There’s a gentleness in Minho’s gaze that makes Chan’s heart swell. Minho might not say it, but Chan can see that he’s slowly warming up to Lucy, and it brings a warmth to his heart.

Chan gives Lucy a soft kiss on the forehead, mouthing, “Goodnight,” before he stands and gently closes the door behind him.

As Chan steps out of Lucy’s room and joins Minho, Minho quirks an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eyes. “Look at you, playing the doting daddy,” he teases, crossing his arms.

Chan rolls his eyes, nudging him playfully. “You’re just jealous,” he replies, chuckling. “Admit it.”

Minho just shrugs with a smirk, but there’s no real irritation behind his words. They head to their own bedroom, slipping under the covers, and Chan reaches out to take Minho’s hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you, Minho,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere. “For… everything. For being understanding, for accepting Lucy without a second thought, and for being here with me through this.”

His gaze is warm, filled with gratitude as he looks into Minho’s eyes. “I don’t take it for granted, you know? I’m really grateful for you.”

Minho’s smirk softens into a small, genuine smile. He shifts closer, leaning his forehead against Chan’s. “You’re lucky I like you, Bang Chan,” he whispers, his voice playful but filled with warmth.

Chan chuckles, brushing his thumb over Minho’s hand. “I am lucky,” he replies, his voice gentle as he presses a soft kiss to Minho’s forehead, feeling a sense of peace settle over him. With Minho by his side, he knows he can face anything—even the unexpected challenges they’re now facing together.

-

The next day, Chan, Minho, and little Lucy head out to the grocery store together. As they walk in, they’re greeted by Halloween decorations lining the aisles—glowing pumpkins, skeletons, and eerie ghost dolls hanging from the ceiling. Lucy’s eyes grow wide, and she clings to Minho’s leg, hiding behind him as a particularly spooky skeleton’s jaw clatters with a creepy laugh.

Minho chuckles, glancing down at her. “They’re just dolls, Lucy,” he says reassuringly, giving one of the decorations a little poke on the eyes.

“See? Not scary at all.” He winks at her, trying to make her laugh by mimicking the skeleton’s spooky laugh.

Seeing Minho’s teasing brings a tiny smile to Lucy’s face, and she clutches his hand a bit less tightly, sticking close by his side as they continue down the aisle.

Meanwhile, Chan’s eyes light up as he spots a display of Halloween costumes.

“Oh! We should do matching costumes,” he exclaims, rifling through the racks with growing excitement. “What about pirates? Or superheroes?”

Minho raises an eyebrow, amused. “Are you really trying to dress us all up for Halloween?”

Chan grins, holding up a little cape and mask for Lucy. “Come on, it’ll be fun! Look, Lucy could be a little superhero,” he says, his enthusiasm contagious.

Lucy giggles, her earlier fright forgotten as she clutches the cape, trying to wrap it around herself.

Later that evening, after their grocery run, the three of them settle down in the living room for a cozy movie night. Lucy curls up on the couch between them, her eyes glued to the screen as the movie plays. Somewhere near the end, her little head begins to droop, and before long, she’s fast asleep, resting comfortably against Minho’s arm.

Chan chuckles, nudging Minho with a grin. “Look at you, Mr. Not Jealous. You’re practically her favorite pillow.”

Minho scoffs, rolling his eyes, but there’s a fond smile on his face as he glances down at the sleeping child in his arms. He carefully stands, lifting her in his arms as he heads to her room. He tucks her in gently, pulling the blankets up to her chin before quietly slipping out of the room.

When he returns to the living room, Chan’s waiting with a soft smile. “You’re really good with her, you know?” Chan says, wrapping an arm around him as they settle back on the couch.

Minho just shrugs, a bit flustered but warmed by Chan’s words. “Yeah, well… she’s not so bad,” he mutters, though there’s a softness in his voice that speaks volumes.

As Minho joins Chan in bed, Chan immediately pulls him into his arms, taking advantage of the rare alone time to shower him with gentle kisses. Minho smirks, leaning into Chan’s warmth as he presses fluttering kisses on his neck.

Not having enough, Chan hovers above him. Their lips make the first contact before the rest of their bodies become one on the bed. In a second, Minho’s hands going all over Chan’s body, trailing his broad shoulders, tracing the ridges of his abs, the muscles on his back and as soon as Chan lowers himself on him, Minho’s hands are gliding down his back and not stopping until his hands meet Chan’s ample ass.

Chan smiles against his lips as Minho starts fondling on his asscheek and Chan gets back at him by feeling Minho’s growing bulge inside his sweatpants.

With everything that happened, it feels like a long time since the last time they had sex. Chan needs this and with the way Minho easily giving in to what he wants, he knows Minho needs this just as much.

However, as things start to heat up— a quiet knock interrupts them.

With his hands resting on his chest, Minho slowly pushes Chan away and says, “Better luck next time!”

Chan sighs but quickly gets up, opening the door to find Lucy standing there, clutching her plushie with tears streaming down her cheeks. The soft rumble of thunder echoes outside, and she sniffles, looking up at him with frightened eyes.

“I'm scared,” she mumbles and gets startled at the sound of thunder.

“Hey, it’s alright, sweetheart,” Chan murmurs gently, crouching down to her level. He lifts her into his arms and brings her into the bedroom, letting her settle down on the bed between him and Minho.

As she clutches her plushie, Chan pats her back, softly humming her favorite lullaby, his voice a low and calming melody against the rumbling storm outside. Slowly, Lucy’s eyes flutter closed, and she drifts off, her breathing steady and peaceful.

Chan glances over at Minho, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hey, let's have one of these,” he whispers playfully.

Minho rolls his eyes but can’t hold back a grin. “Only if you’re the one carrying it,” he whispers back, nudging him.

Chan chuckles quietly, pulling Minho’s hand into his own under the covers. Despite all his initial worries, he feels this warm, comforting feeling settle over him. Having Lucy here, nestled safely between them, only seems to make his bond with Minho stronger. What he once thought might strain their relationship now feels like it’s brought them closer, and he realizes just how much Minho means to him.

They lie there together, hands intertwined, both feeling a quiet sense of peace as they watch over the sleeping child between them.

-

Minho wakes up to the soft sight of little Lucy nestled close to Chan’s arm, her tiny form making Chan look even broader and more protective beside her. Minho smiles, watching them for a moment before slipping out of bed, letting the two sleep in a little longer.

The sunlight spills into the kitchen, bright and warm, washing away any traces of the storm from the night before. As Minho pulls out ingredients from the fridge, he hears tiny footsteps padding across the floor. He turns to see Lucy, dragging her favorite plushie along, her eyes still a bit sleepy.

“Morning, Lucy,” he says softly, setting a plate on the table for her with a warm cheese omelet. Lucy climbs into her chair, her eyes lighting up as she takes a bite.

Minho smirks, watching her enjoy the food. “So,” he says with a playful grin, “who’s the better cook—me or Mommy?”

Lucy giggles, her cheeks puffed from her bite. “Mommy!” she replies without hesitation, her answer sweetly innocent.

Minho huffs in mock offense, rolling his eyes. “Biased,” he mutters under his breath, but he can’t help smiling as he watches her eat with such enthusiasm.

Before long, Chan shuffles into the kitchen, still a bit groggy but smiling at the sight of Lucy happily munching away and Minho standing over the stove. He slips an arm around Minho’s waist, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before taking a seat at the table.

“Morning,” Chan mumbles with another kiss pressed to his neck. He then turns to the little girl busy eating her breakfast and places a kiss on her head, “Morning, cutie Lucy,” he says with his high, saccharine voice.

Minho watches them, a warm feeling settling in his chest as he takes in the cozy scene. Just like Chan had joked, it really does feel like a little family. But as he watches Chan laugh with Lucy over breakfast, Minho realizes he doesn’t have to pretend—it truly feels like this is his family, too.

-

The late morning sunlight spills across the living room as the three of them lounge comfortably on the couch, watching Lucy’s favorite cartoon. She’s nestled between Chan and Minho, completely captivated, while Minho has his arm draped casually over the back of the sofa, feeling more at ease than he would have thought possible.

But the cozy moment is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. Minho groans, getting up to answer it, only to find you standing there, suitcase beside you. He blinks in mild surprise before his face softens, and you exchange a quick hug.

“I lost track of the new passcode,” you say with a chuckle, shrugging apologetically.

“No worries,” he replies, stepping aside to let you in.

Without hesitating, you come up to him for a quick hug, “How are you, Minho? I hope everything is well.”

Minho sheepishly smiles and closes the door behind him, “I hope so too,” he jokingly says.

The second you announce your arrival, little footsteps echo through the hallway as Lucy comes running, her face lighting up at the sight of you. She rushes over, throwing her arms around your legs, and you crouch down to hug her back.

As you greet Chan and settle in, the lively energy Lucy brings to the room returns with her laughter filling the space. Everything feels normal again—but as Minho looks around, he realizes this new rhythm, this new arrangement, is his normal now too.

It’s strange to think how far he’s come from his initial reluctance, but he can’t deny the warmth and quiet joy that fills him at the sight of this little makeshift family.

-

The kitchen is filled with the comforting sounds of chopping and simmering as you and Minho work together to prepare dinner. The faint laughter of Chan and Lucy playing in the living room drifts into the space, adding to the cozy warmth of the evening.

“You really should be resting after your trip,” Minho says, glancing at you as he chops vegetables with practiced ease.

You shake your head, a small smile on your lips. “I need to feel useful after being away. Besides, I wanted to thank you properly—for taking care of Lucy while I was gone.”

Minho shrugs, trying to act nonchalant, but a hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “She’s not so bad… keeps things interesting around here.”

Taking a deep breath, you seize the quiet moment between the two of you. “Minho… there’s something I need to tell you. I didn’t come here to interfere or… to try to win Chan back.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he places the knife down and looks at you. “Good to know. I mean, I would hope you aren’t here to take him away from me. I’d miss the guy.”

A light laugh escapes you, and you feel the tension ease, if only a little. “Honestly, I wanted to be up-front. Lucy isn’t Chan’s child. She… I had her with someone else, after I made a mistake while I was still with Chan.”

You pause, struggling to hold back the guilt that still lingers. “I never told him. I was too ashamed, and I thought it would be better if he didn’t know.”

Minho’s expression softens as he takes in your words. He understands why you did what you did. He picks his words carefully before saying them out loud.

“For what it’s worth, you don’t have to carry that guilt here. Chan’s treating Lucy like she’s his own because, well, that’s just who he is. And… she’s lucky to have him in her life. We both are.”

You've been carrying it for a long while and your heart lifts at his words. For that, you offer a sincere smile and gratitude. “Thank you, Minho. For understanding, and for... letting us stay here.”

Minho gives a small nod, and his usual teasing smile returns. “Well, you’re lucky Lucy’s cute. She’s winning me over. Just don’t go telling her that.”

You’re silent for a moment, gathering your thoughts. As you continue slicing vegetables, you glance at Minho, hesitating, then finally let out a gentle sigh.

“Chan… he looks so happy with you,” you say, voice soft. “I can see it. He really loves you. I hope you know that.”

Minho pauses, clearly caught off guard by your words. “Yeah?” he asks, almost shyly, though he tries to play it off with a small smile.

You nod, your gaze shifting to where Chan is with Lucy, his laughter filling the living room. “He deserves to be with someone who makes him this happy. I couldn’t give him that but you do. And I really, really hope things work out for you both.”

Minho’s expression softens, a hint of gratitude flickering in his eyes that he doesn’t know how to react to that. “Thank you. That means… well, more than you might think.”

You both fall silent, the sound of your movements in the kitchen blending with the distant laughter of Chan and Lucy. In that moment, you feel a quiet sense of relief, knowing that Chan has found someone who truly cares for him, and that you’ve left him in good hands.

-

Dinner is lively, filled with light chatter and laughter as everyone enjoys the meal. Between bites, Chan glances over at Lucy, attentively wipes her slobbering mouth with a napkin. He beams when he remembers something.

“Hey, would it be alright if I took Lucy to the park tomorrow? I know a spot she’d love.”

You swallow your food and put your spoon down to answer him. “I plan on begin looking for an apartment anyway, so that would be perfect.”

Without missing a beat, Minho clears his throat and injects himself into the conversation.“Well, you’re in luck—I just so happen to have a cozy apartment that I keep meaning to rent out. Figured I might sell it eventually, but,” he shrugs playfully and glances over at Chan, “I keep it around in case I need an escape from Chan.”

The table erupts into laughter, and you look at him, surprised but grateful. “Are you serious? I’d be so thankful. Really.”

Minho nods with a grin and casually shrugs again, “Consider it yours, then.”

Chan catches Minho’s eye, a quiet look of gratitude passing between them. He feels a surge of pride, but more than that, a sense of certainty that Minho is truly the one he’s meant to be with.

Later that night, as they lay side by side in bed, Chan gently pulls Minho close, wrapping an arm around him. He presses a long kiss on his neck before deeply looking into his eyes to tell him his feelings.

“You know, I’ve never felt this sure about anyone before,” he murmurs. “I feel like… you’re the one I’ve been waiting for, Minho.”

Minho rolls his eyes but can’t hide the blush creeping across his face. “You’re getting sappy again, Chan.”

Chan chuckles softly, then leans in, his lips brushing Minho’s in a tender, lingering kiss. “I mean it,” he whispers. “I love you so much.”

Unexpectedly, Minho melts right away from Chan's confession, his usual sarcasm fading, and after a moment, he cups Chan’s face, a small smile playing at his lips. “I love you too.”

In this perfect, quiet moment, Chan knows that he’s exactly where he’s meant to be.

-

Moving into Minho’s apartment has felt like starting fresh—a safe, cozy space for you and Lucy, free from the burdens you once carried. It’s peaceful, even comforting, though sometimes it’s hard to shake the feeling of gratitude toward Chan and Minho for being there when you needed it most. They’ve become part of your life in a way you never anticipated, like family.

The apartment is still a mess and you struggle to find your makeup pouch from the unpacked boxes. When you finally found what you're looking for, you run back to the living room and squat down to be on the same level with Lucy. You carefully draw thin, delicate whiskers on Lucy's cheeks, stepping back to admire her in her little mouse costume. She giggles, wriggling with excitement as you look at her with a big smile on your face.

“Look at you, you cute little mouse!” you grin, smoothing down her costume.

Just then, the doorbell rings, and Lucy’s eyes light up as she dashes for the door. Her little tail wagging amd drags across the hardwood floor as she runs.

“Who do you think it is?” you ask playfully, following her.

She’s practically bouncing as you open the door, and there stand Chan and Minho, beaming.

“Oh?! I can see it now,” You gasp and chuckle when you finally recognize where they got the reference for their costumes. It's from Lucy’s favorite movie, Ratatouille.

Chan’s dressed in a chef’s outfit, his red wig comically tousled like Linguini’s, while Minho, wearing a sharp black suit and a deep scowl, plays the perfect Anton Ego.

Chan immediately crouches down, holding out his arms. “There’s my little Remy!” he cheers, and Lucy runs into his arms, giggling as he lifts her up.

Minho nods, raising a brow and it’s rather dramatic with the dark eye makeup. “Impeccable taste in costume, I must say,” he says with mock seriousness, giving Lucy an approving look.

“Wow, you all really went with the theme,” you laugh, impressed. “You even got the scowl right, Minho.”

Minho smirks, crossing his arms. “Of course. It’s a role I was born to play,” he says dryly, earning a playful nudge from Chan.

They line up in front of the camera, Lucy perched proudly on Chan’s shoulders, clutching his chef’s hat, with Minho standing beside them, a half-smile tugging at his lips. You help direct their poses, snapping a few photos as they make silly faces, then switch to a few “serious” ones with Minho scowling dramatically.

The three of them are laughing together, looking so natural and happy, and as you watch through the lens, your heart swells with warmth. This little found family has its own kind of magic, and it feels like something that might just last.

-

As Chan and Lucy head out for trick-or-treating, the apartment feels a little quieter, but comfortably so. You and Minho settle into the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves and preparing ingredients to bake cookies. There’s a sense of ease between you, both of you slipping into a relaxed rhythm of mixing, sifting, and rolling dough, laughter and chatter filling the room.

“So, how are you settling in here?” Minho asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Actually, it’s been good. Lucy’s adapting well, and I have you to thank for that.” You glance around the apartment, an appreciative gleam in your eyes. “It already feels like a home.”

Minho chuckles, looking a little proud as he dusted the dough with more flour. “I’m glad to hear that. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if this place would be what you needed, but you’re making it work.”

A moment passes in silence as you consider whether it's appropiate or not for you to ask something personal with him. After a while though, you glance at him thoughtfully and decide to take a shot.

“So... you and Chan,” you say, a gentle nudge in your tone. “Are you thinking about... taking things to the next level?”

Minho chuckles at first, lifting a brow at you and he stays quiet, you take it that he doesn’t want to answer until he turns to face you.

“The next level? What, like adopting a cat?” he teases, though you can see the thought truly crosses his mind as he softens a bit. “But honestly... I know Chan. He’s always had this dream, you know? That picture-perfect life with a family, a house with a white fence, a dog… all of it.”

He pauses, looking down as he carefully arranges the cookie dough on the sheet. “Sometimes I wonder if I can give him that,” he admits quietly, his voice just above a whisper. “It’s not like I’m against it… I just don’t know if I’m enough to be his whole dream.”

You nod, understanding the weight of his thoughts and take a moment to assess it. “I think that dream matters to him, sure. But I also know that Chan loves you, and that’s the part that matters most.”

You give him a reassuring look and a warm smile. “If there’s anyone who can make him happy, it’s you. And honestly? What you two have—it's special. I’d be heartbroken if anything ever changed that.”

Minho looks at you, a slight smile pulling at his lips. He seems more at ease, even if only a little, as he nods in quiet appreciation.

“Thanks,” he says, voice soft. “It’s nice to hear that.”

He carefully slides the cookie tray into the oven, letting the warmth of your words and the baking cookies fill the space.

Chan and Lucy return from trick-or-treating just as the smell of freshly baked cookies are out of the oven. The moment they step inside, Lucy’s eyes light up at the sight of the cookies on the counter, and she eagerly scrambles onto the couch, settling in with her treat.

Everyone gathers in the cozy living room, laughing, sipping milk, and munching on warm cookies as a Halloween movie plays on the TV. But the true entertainment comes from you and Minho playfully teasing Chan, trading stories and memories like a friendly roast.

“Oh, he’s still as bad at drinking as he was back then,” you laugh, nudging Chan as he shakes his head, looking mildly embarrassed.

“Not to mention the spice thing,” Minho chimes in, smirking. “Can’t handle anything remotely spicy, huh?”

Chan groans, holding up his hands in defeat. “What can I say? Some things never change,” he grins, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

“Oh! Grow up, Chan!” You tease him with a mocking grin.

As the night gets late, Lucy falls asleep on Chan’s lap, her face calm and content from the night’s excitement. Gently, Chan scoops her up and carries her to bed, laying her down and carefully tucking her in. You join him, and together, you watch her peaceful expression, a feeling of warmth settling over the room.

“Thank you, Chan,” you say softly, watching your daughter sleep. “I’ve never seen Lucy this happy. She really, really likes you.”

Chan smiles, his gaze softening as he endearingly putting away the haie covering Lucy’s face. “She’s a great girl. Makes it easy.”

For a moment, Chan simply watches Lucy sleeping, endearingly putting the hair away from her face and then, he looks at you. With a gentle tone, he asks, “Can I… Can I be Lucy’s godfather?”

Your heart skips at the suddenness of his wish and how unexpected it is. Before you can respond, you feel the urge to tell him the truth, wanting him to understand everything.

“Chan, I know I should have told you sooner that Lucy is—”

Before you get to finish your sentence, Chan shakes his head and stopping you. “Despite it all, I want to be there for her, and for you.”

Overwhelmed by his words, you nod, a genuine smile breaking through. “I would love to, Chan. Besides, I can't trust Lucy to anyone else but you.”

Chan laughs lightly, his voice a warm whisper. “Not even Minho?” he teases with an eyebrow raised.

You laugh, nudging him playfully and lower your voice as you say, “Especially Minho.”

A gentle quiet fills the room as you both stand there, and for a moment, it feels like everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be.

-

Chan stands by the door, lingering a moment longer than he intended as you walk up to him with a gentle, knowing smile. “Thank you for everything, Chan,” you say, pulling him into a warm hug. He holds you close, feeling the quiet gratitude that flows between you.

When you pull away, there’s a slight shimmer in your eyes, and he gives you a reassuring nod, as if to say he’ll always be there, no matter what. “If you ever need anything,” he says quietly, “don’t hesitate, alright?”

You nod, laughing softly as Minho steps forward, offering a half-smirk. “Maybe not from me, though,” he quips, rolling his eyes with a small grin.

But when you hug him too, he softens, returning your thanks with a quiet sincerity that he doesn’t often show.

As you release Minho from the warm hug, you take a steady breath, your gaze softening as you look at the two of them.

“Thank you,” you say, voice thick with emotion. “For the first time in so long, I feel like I belong somewhere—like Lucy and I finally have a place and people we can call ours. I’m grateful for both of you.”

Chan smiles, squeezing your hand gently. “That’s what family’s for,” he says, his tone warm and steady. Minho offers a half-smile, trying to brush off the emotion, but there’s a glint of understanding in his eyes.

“Goodnight,” Chan says to you before stepping out of the apartment with Minho.

“Goodnight,” you say back as you linger in the doorway and watching them disappear into the elevator.

-

As Chan and Minho walk together, hand in hand under the soft glow of the city lights, Chan takes a deep breath, letting the cool night air fill his lungs. This—right here, right now—feels like home in a way he’s never known before.

He glances over at Minho, who’s watching the path ahead, his profile softened by the moonlight. Chan gives his hand a gentle squeeze, feeling a swell of gratitude for everything they’ve come through to reach this moment. For all the unexpected turns, the people they’ve grown to love, and the bonds they’ve forged. Somehow, everything led him here—to the love he’s waited for, the family he’s built, and the life he never thought he’d find.

“You know,” he says quietly, a tenderness in his voice, “I think I finally understand what it means to be whole. It’s not about finding pieces you think you’re missing. It’s about realizing that what you have is exactly enough.”

Minho looks over at him, a hint of something deep and unspoken in his eyes. “Then let’s keep it this way,” he murmurs, “for as long as we can.”

And as they continue down the quiet streets together, Chan knows that even if life shifts and changes again, he’ll always have this—the kind of love and contentment that makes every struggle worth it. Because they’re not just walking home tonight; they’re building one, with each other, step by step.

-

Support my works by kindly reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @minh0scat @simplymoo

[dreamescapeswriting]

m cutiee, how have you been? been such a long time since i entered this app, im ready to bingeread all your fics !!

Heyyyy adjhvsada oh my goosshhh! I've been okay1 How are you?!?!

[night-rider-lily]

At this point i just live and breathe drama behind the scene pictures, especially The Untamed since they are so funny- It's chaotic. How on earth did they manage to film it in time?

All jokes aside, the whole cast is just amazingly talented and it's a shame that aside from Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo, no one else has really "skyrocketed". There are so many talented people who deserve better roles, leading roles even.

[suibianne]

Wen Ning is not a thing.

[octoberautumnbox]

Consider: Yubin who's your seatmate and is very professional in school but every night at 10pm you get the raciest, sauciest, spiciest nudes from her with no warning

Hell Week

tripleS Gong Yubin & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, that's p much all anyone needs to know i think

Word count: 5.5k holy shit

a/n: jeez howd it get this long :nolookk: oh btw i took some liberties with the prompt not that u care heres the fuckin yubin fic :DDDD

~~~

A hand lays itself on your shoulder, the sudden contact nearly making you jump. You turn around and find Yubin clutching a book to her chest with a gentle look on her features. Gesture over to the chair across from you, all the while trying to get your heart rate back under control. 

“My bad, didn't see you were locked in.” She gets into the chair left of you anyway and turns her book to the same page as yours. “How's it going?”

You stretch and groan to let out as much of your tiredness as you can, paying just a bit of mind to everyone else in the library doing pretty much the same. “Dunno. Around twenty minutes ago I accepted I'm retaking this class. What's up with you?”

She giggles while her eyes scan across the paragraphs talking about desert flora and types of precipitation. She rests her cheek on her palm, “I still have a bit of fight in me, but I'm losing hope. I was hoping I could borrow some from you.”

“Sorry, Yubin,” you whisper with every ounce of sympathy you had, “fresh out.” You return to your own book, yet all you do is run your eyes over the same page over and over without much staying in your head. 

A cursory look over to your left shows you scholar-mode Gong Yubin: focused, sharp, and serious. Not that it ever got in the way of you two being friends, but when she gets like this, you know better than to underestimate her–she's capable of plotting the downfall of kingdoms if she set her mind to it. 

However, at the same time, you notice her distress, then immediately notice how well she hides it. It's the same slight crease of her eyebrows in freshman orientation, after midterms in Linguistics 103, and when she finally stopped putting off Geology 102. The realization dawns on you: the situation is dire now that she asks for your help while she's like this, so how could you let her down now?

“Bet you I can score higher,” you challenge her. You have no good reason to issue such a proposition, but if it means giving her support how it matters, whatever embarrassing thing she'll make you do is more than worth it.

It piques her interest and a smile pulls up the corners of her lips. She side-eyes you with an excitement she didn't have just two minutes prior, and you know it worked. “If I win,” she announces as loud as she's allowed to, “make me thick tofu stew. The right way.” 

“Really? That's it?” Then you rebut with just as much fervor, “If I win, you do three of my essays in comparative lit next semester.”

“Now hold the fuck on,” she stumbles, her eyes grown wide and her smile grown toothy, “if you're gonna raise the stakes like that, I need to think of something else!”

Your phone and hers vibrate at the same time, and your screen reads “Get your ass over to Geog.” You both pack your bags and head off to your last Geology class before finals together, and as your book takes its place in the darkness of your backpack, “Fine, but I get to change mine too when I hear yours,” and the spring in her step as you walk tells you it's mission accomplished. 

~~~

In hindsight, it really wasn’t all that bad. The class review session your professor held that day helped you nail down just enough of whatever the fuck sleet might be, and while you're certain it isn't flying colors, your grade at least wouldn't be red. 

Coming out of the exam room, you spot Yubin just seconds before she finds you, and your good deed pays for itself as she skips to approach. 

“Got a good feeling?” There was no point in asking other than that you had to hear it from her, though the wide grin on her face was proof enough. 

“Yeah, I think barely,” she sways cutely from side to side, “and don't think you're off the hook!” She hits you light on the arm, and the most shining feature you can’t ignore is her eyebrows without any sign or symptom of the crease. 

“Not over ‘til the fat lady sings, Gong Yubin,” though you know she's already won. “Three whole essays against… Haven't you decided yet?”

“No, not yet, but the bet is still on!”

You relent, “Fine, fine. Anyway, Nakyoung’s treating the gang to drinks tonight. Wanna come?”

“Nah, busy. Laundry and stuff.” She shifts her weight from foot to foot, and you can tell she’s giddy about what her grade is going to turn out to be. It’s a sight for sore eyes, especially ones that have seen too many grainy tectonic plates and water cycle diagrams. “And why do you insist on full-naming her?”

“I know someone whose name sounds the exact same. As far as I’m concerned, our Nakyoung’s the other Naky.” You place your hand on the small of her back and lead her away from the doorway, and she walks with you without a second thought.

“Mean. You’ll have to introduce me to this first Naky, then.” You slide into rhythm with her gait, and it hits you just how relieved you are for Yubin’s worries to be over. 

It seems such a waste, you think, that laundry is the only thing keeping her away from celebrating, so as you walk out of the Social Sciences building, you bargain one more time: “We’ll be there all night, so just come by when you’re done. I speak for everyone when I say we want you to come, please?”

She giggles again, “I’ll see what I can do. It’s not like I don’t wanna be there, either. Plus,” she admits defeatedly, “we’re getting the results later, and God knows I’d rather not be alone when it comes.” 

~~~

“Hey, where's Yubin?” Nakyoung slings an arm around your shoulder and shoves another mug of beer into your hand. It's a welcome gesture, and it takes all of two and a half seconds for you to down half of it. 

“She has laundry,” you nearly shout back your reply above the music. “Said she'll drop by if she has time.”

Nakyoung makes to yell another reply right into your ear, but decides to pull you away into one of the quieter booths in the bar. “She's a goody-two-shoes, no? Laundry, oh please. Kaede hasn't done laundry in two years.” She takes a gulp of her own beer and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Hey. She studied her ass off for that test. I made a bet with her and it looks like she has high spirits, but I honestly dunno what I'd do if she fails.”

Your friend takes your chin up with her finger and you realize how pensive an expression was sitting on your face. “This is Gong Yubin. You know she'll kill it.” Nakyoung flashes a confident smile, and it reassures you almost more than your own trust in Yubin herself. “You drunk yet?”

“Nah, not getting shitfaced without Yubin.”

“Cute. You know she likes you too?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Nakyoung. Go steal Seoyeon's boyfriend while you're at it.”

“I wish; she has him under lock and key. But I wouldn't really mind both of them,” she muses, eyeing Seoyeon in the middle of the dancefloor. 

Just then, the devil strolls in through the front door. “Hi! You weren't kidding, it's really loud in here,” Yubin exclaims with her hands shielding her ears as she adjusts to the noise.

She takes Nakyoung's seat–you whip your head around and find Nakyoung at the dancefloor, with Seoyeon grinding against her–and picks up Nakyoung's old mug. She takes a careful sip and ends it with a relieved ahhhh, before setting it back down and getting to business. She leans in like keeping a secret, though she can't hide her toothy grin. “Have you seen your grade yet?”

“It's out?!” You fumble for your phone, and the second it lights up, cold runs through your veins–the email notification is the first thing at the top of the screen. Meanwhile, Yubin calmly slides her phone across the table to you. She asks “I read yours, you read mine?” with the sweetest smile on her face, again with the slight crease on her eyebrows.

Calm your nerves, silence the alarms blaring in your head. You know she did well, absolutely certain. However, it still doesn't soothe you enough; not until you see the grades for yourself. So, as your thumb hovers over her email, your heart nearly beats out of your chest, only to see–

“You got 87 percent,” Yubin states in the blandest, matter-of-fact tone you've ever heard. Her eyes move left and right over the same spot on your phone, making ultimate certain that she's reading it right. Once she is, her tone softens just enough, “Yeah, 87 percent. Wow, that's good,” she sighs with relief, “... Hard to beat.”

Now her turn, you peek at her score. doing the same making sure, and then some. When you read it for the fifth time, you kick yourself mentally for being so worried and having such little trust in the genius that is Gong Yubin. “Goddamn, 95 percent.”

Her eyes widen like sinkholes as her hand flies to cover her mouth. It almost doesn't matter that you hand her back her phone; she snatches it back anyway. Her disbelief chips away at itself with every run through of the email she reads for herself, and when she's finally done, returns her shocked gaze back to you.

“You were that scared of three essays?” you joke. The beer tastes sweeter now that your worries have gone, and as if all six septillion kilograms of the world is off your shoulders. 

“No, three essays is easy,” she taunts, but immediately her voice takes on a gentler tone, “so I win, right?”

You scoff at her haughtiness, but your relief triumphs over all. “Yeah, whatever. What do you want?”

“... I wanna go home. This is enough excitement for one day.”

“Alright, let me take you. Tell me in the cab what you want for winning, though?”

“Sure,” she says with a tiny smile.

~~~

“So,” she declares. She catches her breath, and her face is overcome with a subtle red flush, “about the bet.”

“Yeah, about the bet.”

“I want…” and she hesitates. The cab runs over a mild speed bump, and the resulting sway seemingly knocks her completely out of focus. She gathers her resolve once more, as if every time she tries to speak she drops it and has to pick it up again. 

“You want…?”

It's a good couple minutes of her breathing heavily, and your concern shows itself for her and whatever she has planned for you.

“Is it illegal? What could possibly be so bad that you're hesitating this much?”

“No, no, shut up. I'm working on it.” She takes one last deep breath, even placing a hand on her heart to steady it. “I want… a cum tribute.”

“... A cum tribute.”

“Yes.”

“You want me to…?”

“I'll send you a photo. And do it on that.”

“You want a photo of–”

“Video.”

“You–video?”

“I want a video. Of you. Cumming on a photo. My photo. I'll send it to you.”

There's no way the cab driver doesn't think this is weird. Then again, he has an earphone in, so he might not be listening in at all. You get the feeling Yubin doesn't care either way, completely focused on you. 

“... Alright. You want it this bad, fine.”

“Good. Um,” she follows, “sorry in advance. It's gonna be my first time… taking a photo like this.” She refocuses her attention to the buildings whizzing by outside as she says it, the telltale sign the conversation is over. Still, it lingers in your head for a little while: Yubin's first time. 

~~~

“Look, I'm sorry,” she sighs, “just come up with me? Please?”

You're standing with her outside her dorm, all the while the meter ticks away in the cab. The driver waits expectantly inside for you to get back, but Yubin's fingers wrapped around your sleeve make for a very difficult decision. 

“Okay, okay, just let me pay the cab driver,” you concede, but as soon as you sum up the fare, Yubin snatches it from you and brings it over herself. She and the driver exchange a few words, ending with her waving him off and him leaving her in the dust. She waddles back with her signature grin: the one that tries and fails to hide her excitement. 

“Can I just ask why you want it so bad?”

She shakes her head, “Nope. Now shush,” as you both make the now-silent trek up the four flights of stairs to her floor and room. 

Upon entering, you immediately notice it's nicer than most dorm rooms: huge space, carpet floors, a big window, and two double-size beds, not to mention its own bathroom. It makes you stop and wonder if you ever glossed over any signs that Yubin or her family might come from old money.

“Uhh, give me a few minutes to get ready. The bed on the right is mine, make yourself at home. WiFi password by the light switch. Kaede doesn't like her stuff messed with, so steer clear.” Yubin then disappears into the bathroom, and you lay yourself down on her bed. You're made aware of how you sink comfortably into the memory foam, and of the disarming fragrance that wafts from her bedsheets and pillowcases. She's always smelled like this, you recall, but it's rather nice, you finally admit. 

“Hey,” Yubin attempts. She sits on the edge of her bed next to you, wearing a set of pajamas and no makeup at all. You always knew Yubin was a pretty girl, God knows how many times she's been asked out, but seeing her like this is new; her allure draws you in with a smile and an embrace. Shit, was Nakyoung right? Do you like her? 

“So… How do you want me?” She avoids your eyes and touches her fingertips together, a blush forming on her cheeks. 

“Do you… Do you have a tie?”

Her ears perk up, “Yeah, hold on,” and she retrieves a thin, striped necktie from her dresser. She places it around her neck, her fingers delicately maneuvering the fabric into an intricate-looking knot, and when she's done, she presents herself to you. 

“Take off your top, Yubin,” you tell her, and she hands you her phone with the camera already on. Point it at her, making sure the flash is off, and start taking pictures one by one. 

She pushes aside the tie and fiddles with the top button. It's effortless how she undoes it, and she pulls the collar apart to show you more of her. She unbuttons the next, then the next, all the while showing you her smooth skin. With half the buttons undone, she shows off her chest, showing nothing but skin underneath her top.

You take a moment to catch your breath, swallow your spit. “Are you sure about this, Yubin?” 

“Yeah… Just keep going, please.” She undoes her fifth button at the very bottom, revealing her midriff and making you salivate. Must be heaven to kiss her there, when she snaps you out of it, “Are you still taking pictures?” Am I that distracting?” Look up to her, find her with the same sweet smile on her face but with a new blush decorating her cheeks.

Her last button is her fourth, and it's undone before you know it. She keeps her pajama top on a little bit longer, covering her chest a little bit more, and finally she shrugs it off one shoulder. It's nothing but everything all at once, and the split second your self-control wavers is the exact moment you leap in.

You drop her phone somewhere on the mattress; both your hands grip her shoulders as your lips capture hers. She leans into the kiss, wrapping her fingers on the back of your neck, and tiny moans escape her amidst smooches that get louder the hungrier she gets. 

Pull the top off her other shoulder, and she finally strips it all off. However, you can't even enjoy the sight, not yet, as you draft down from her lips to her slender neck, leaving a trail of kisses on your way. She runs her fingers through your hair before holding you in place, all the while leading your free hand to her chest. 

She sucks air in through her teeth, “That's really good, just like that…” she moans as her head tilts to allow more access to her neck. The scent of her shampoo fills your nostrils and you feel yourself getting addicted, but not as much as to the softness of her skin. 

She pulls you down onto the bed, and you find yourself leaning over her. Yubin lies under you, watching you intently and waiting for what you'll do next. Her tie sits right in the valley of her tits, and it drives you wild. Take a nipple in between your teeth while you fondle her other breast. She breathes heavy in pleasure, wordlessly asking for more and more of your attention and love. Her fist closes on your hair as she pushes you further onto her chest, her other hand hopelessly tugging on your pants.

It's all the message you need from her: your pants go, then your underwear, then everything else. Your cock stands hard in her sights, and the way her fingers wrap around your length is nothing short of heaven. 

“Do… do you wanna do it with me?” Her question is purely innocent, without a single hint of malice in her voice. She rubs your shaft slowly, sending waves of tantalizing pleasure throughout your whole body.

“Do you have condoms?”

“... Kaede will forgive me.” She crawls down the ladder, picks out a square plastic wrapper from her roommate's dresser, and hurries to get back to you. The smile on her face as she comes up the ladder again is one of, if not the most beautiful things you've ever seen. 

You guide her as she puts the condom on you, and the sensation of her fingers gently unrolling the rubber along your length only makes you more impatient. Finally, you hook your fingers on the garter of her pajama bottoms, and she lifts her hips to accommodate you. The fabric slides off her so easily, revealing her long, smooth legs that she seems desperate to have you in between of. 

“Go easy, okay? I told you…” 

“Yeah, your first time. I'll take care of you,” you reassure her. Line up your throbbing cock against her slick heat, feel her palm on your cheek, watch her flash that killer smile again. She bites her lip, and while you know it isn't on purpose, it makes her look sexier all the same. 

Slide your cock into her, making sure to go slow. She shuts her eyes harder with every inch she takes of you, and when she moves her hands to your forearms and grips tight, it reminds you like a looping cycle: “Go easy, go easy.”

So you go slow and steady, staving off your lust for the woman giving herself to you. Each thrust into her sex is careful and calculated, though by the second you feel your calculations going awry. She pants at every good spot in her cavern you happen to drag across, earning her little admissions of newly found pleasure in the form of mewls and moans like a song you’d never tire of. 

“Faster, please…? You’re so–ugh, fuck…” And the way she pleads flips a switch in you; plant your elbows into the memory foam on either side of her head while she takes your face in her hands. Yubin pulls you in for a kiss and it means the world to her when you grow careless with your lovemaking.

“Fuck, fuck, not too fast, just right, mmm,” each time you push into her cunt. The way she mumbles sweet nothings into your ear, the way she holds on for dear life and leaves scratches all the way down your back, she takes up every single thought going through your head: Yubin, Yubin, Yubin…

You scarcely notice how she's scratching your harder, gripping you tighter, grinding against you faster–it’s much too late to finally hear her warning, “I'm close, I'm close, oh fuck, fuck, aaahhhh!” as she explodes with you still inside her. Her pussy clenches around your cock in all the best ways, and you savor the feeling as she rides out her orgasm. Her knuckles turn white as she grips you by the shoulders, though all you can see is how her tits bounce with every jerk that runs through her body. Yubin's eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth hangs open, a prolonged, deep moan gracing your ears as she ambles closer and closer to spent. 

Take a moment, let her breathe. Every gasp of air in her lungs is like a blessing, and each one steadily brings her from beyond heaven back to you. Her hands fall to her sides as she pants out her delirium and replaces it with tiredness, and once she's stable she flashes you that killer smile again. It pulls on the corners of her mouth, showing the tiniest amount of teeth, though her eyes are nowhere near open. Plant a kiss on her cheek, then her neck, then receive her giggles once you stay and rest right on her pulse. 

“You good? Still alive?”

All she can do is nod, having had every last ounce of her strength sapped. She lays motionless under you, save for her chest rising and falling with her breathing, and you know she looks to you for comfort and security. You take another moment to bask in her afterglow; she's never looked more gorgeous. 

“Hey,” she whispers, and you swear it's the most tired you've ever heard her, or anyone for that matter. “You good?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. Are you sure you're good?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” She pulls you back down and plants a kiss on your cheek. Her lips linger for a second, as if she's taking in your scent made hers. You stay like this for a good while, just enjoying each other's presence, relishing in the warmth of a body that gave itself up for the other. You don't even notice when you slumped over onto the mattress beside her, but her head on your chest felt like the rightest thing in the world.

“We're not done, by the way,” she prods.

“What? Why not? Aren't you tired?”

“‘Tired’ isn't part of the bet. I still want that tribute.”

And you remember, you have a job to do, a debt to pay. It’s between your common sense and your lust for the hottest girl in the world right now, and there is a clear winner. 

Pull back from her, off of the bed, and plant your feet on the floor. Firm and resolute, tell her: “Fine, on your knees.” The flush on her face deepens to an igneous red, and she scrambles to the floor in front of you.

“You're so pretty, Yubin,” you muse as you point her camera back to her face. Make sure the flash is off, and once you push the big red button to record, your other hand immediately takes her cheek and guides her to your tip. 

Yubin's eyes flutter shut as she inches her lips closer and closer to your cock. The first contact is heavenly; just gentle kisses and licks from a complete novice pretending to be an expert at this sort of stuff. The way her tongue glides over your shaft, the way she plants kisses all over your cock with the tiniest sucks, the way she does all of this with her eyes gracefully shut makes for a killer video for her to get off to later. A blowjob from a girl like this comes once in a lifetime, so you resolve to give her everything she'd ever want from a tribute like this. 

A moan escapes you, and she picks up that she's doing it right. With your subconscious approval, the hand on her cheek pulling further her in, she takes your tip in her mouth. Her tongue works overtime in running all over the head, paying special attention to your slit, making absolutely sure her spit coats wherever she can reach. She takes in more and more of your shaft, pressing her tongue on the underside of your cock as she does, all the while her cheeks hollow out like her life depends on it. 

Tiny vibrations from her throat only add to the pleasure, sending shivers up your spine and your hand to the back of her head. For the first time, she opens her eyes, and the sight is something to behold: she looks up at you with the biggest, roundest, most pleading eyes, the epitome of cuteness if not for your cock she oh-so-diligently services to get what she wants. 

Yubin takes you in just a bit deeper, slightly turning her head and savoring the way your length fills her mouth, when you hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag. She pulls back abruptly as a tear forms in the corner of her eye, and you have half a mind to pull out entirely to make sure she's okay. Instead, she never lets you–she takes your cock again, shooting you another pleading look before she shuts her eyes and bobs her head onto your cock again and again. 

Luckily, you pick up on her message; Snake your fingers through her hair, grab a fistful, make her yours. A moan rises from her throat once again, and she steadies herself with her hands on your thighs in preparation. She's ready. 

Pull her in as far as she can take, and it's a good most of your shaft before she gags again. Offer her no breathing room, bob her head onto your cock over and over, all the while more of her slobber coats your length, some of it falling off her lips and onto her chest and lap. She never fights, only takes–soon the gagging is replaced by an obedient, rhythmic gluck-gluck-gluck than you're sure even she'd find hot if she could think straight. Instead, her phone picks up every sight and sound for her to enjoy later, while you both enjoy each other now. 

It's everything all at once: the sight of Gong Yubin's plump, sexy lips around your shaft, the feeling of her tongue relentlessly dragging over every inch of your cock, the sound of your tip meeting her throat again and again while her groans fight their way out. “Yubin… I'm close,” you confess, but with her eyes still shut and her tongue still going crazy all over you, you don't think she heard. So make the decision yourself: yank her hard off your cock, rub your shaft right against her delicious lips. Once she exits her daze, she takes your dick in her hand and rubs all across the length. Tears fall from the corner of her eyes and her lips give off the slightest tremble, but she's resolute in what she wants to earn from you. 

It takes no time at all until you reach your limit. It's the best handjob anyone has ever probably given, but it's that one last kiss from her, right on your tip, that sends you over the edge. One last groan, one last jerk, one last tug of her hair, and your orgasm hits. Your cum shoots out in ropes, all landing on her face and tits. She's determined to receive everything from you, so it's only right to give her exactly what she wants. She shuts her eyes again, but her mouth stays wide open to catch whatever she can of it–she never stops jerking you off even as your cum falls onto her eyelids, her nose bridge, her forehead, her chin. Yubin savors every moment and every drop, burning the memory of bliss into her mind as you coat her face with your love. 

Your orgasm finally dies down, and you realize just how much she squeezed out of you. You're sure no one has ever looked lewder, your cum smeared all over her face, yet she proves you wrong when she picks up a fingerful of it to take into her mouth. She licks her lips, apparently loving the taste, while you love the sight of her acting so sultry for you. 

Stumble back onto the bed, take Yubin with you. Both of you are out of strength, breathing heavy, and in the middle of processing that you just painted her face with cum–that she asked you to paint her face with cum. You barely notice the stars swirling in your eyes, but your sense of the situation comes back just quick enough to avoid things getting awkward. 

“I think I wanna shower, so you should wash up first,” you mumble, still staring at her beige ceiling, and you can feel she's panting and doing the same without even seeing her. 

Wordlessly she gets up and her carpet-muffled footsteps grow quieter as she heads to the bathroom. A door shuts, a handle creaks, a shower gushes to life. Your brain sits idle, making no attempts to form thoughts other than acknowledging the shower turning off and on while she bathes. It's calming in its own way, you suppose–taking a bath is one of the normalest things in the world–as if what you just did with her was a close runner-up. 

An unknowable amount of time passes, and a fresh, citrus-scented Yubin emerges from the bathroom again. She dries her hair with her towel as she makes her way to her hair blower, but not before shooting you a gorgeous smile and a head tilt to the bathroom to let you know it's your turn. 

~~~

Leaving the bathroom yourself, you find a dark bedroom, save only for a yellow lamp shining against a nearby wall. Yubin is sitting up in her bed and scrolling on her phone, and once she spots you, she beckons you over.

“Look, funny,” she whispers with a giggle, and she shows you a clip of a guy much too excited about a truck looking like Optimus Prime. 

“Yeah. Hey, listen, I'm pretty tired,” you attempt. In no way is this a lie, and you're sure she's tired too. You bet she wants nothing more than to finally go to sleep and end what should be a perfect night on a high note. 

“Totally,” she agrees, “come on in. It's cold.” She lifts up the covers and looks over to you expectantly. Not that it dumbfounds you, but it throws you for a slight loop; she literally just said it was cold. 

“Wh– I'm heading out, is what I mean. You should get your rest, too.”

Yubin's eyes take on a softer expression, “Oh, you're not staying over?”

“... Did you want me to?”

“Yeah…?”

Your eyes lock with hers for what seems like half a second and a million hours at the same time. You're stuck in place, still in a stalemate of a staring contest with her, and you're not sure even she knows what the two of you want out of the situation. Her expression turns into one of concern, and her arm holding up the covers falters just a bit. Fuck, you think, window's closing.

Make your choice, have no regrets. Get in the covers with her, and she lets them drop to snuggle up to you. Once the both of you settle, her head on your chest and yours on one of the fluffiest pillows in the world, she blurts out quietly: “You fucked up, you know.”

She navigates to her gallery and finds your video of her, and skips to a part near the end. “Your dumb ass stopped recording just as you were about to cum.” And the video did show that: Yubin rubbing your cock, eyes shut, tongue out and ready for your load, and the video stops. 

“Shit, sorry–” 

“This wasn't the bet. I wanted a cum tribute, not a facial. You need to send me a proper one,” she muses, “or take a proper video.”

Now that stuns you. You wonder how interesting her ceiling is for you to stare at it so much, but she snaps you out of it partway through by snaking a hand up your shirt and settling it right above your heart. Reciprocate–it only feels right–wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her even closer. An exhale from both of you, and one last exchange of words: 

“Okay. Tomorrow?”

“Can you go again that soon?”

“If it's you, of course.”

“Don't guys need to recharge?”

“... I'll handle it.”

~~~

[coldfanbou]

Driving Her Crazy

A small road trip with Yubin and a little spicy time in the car because of her.

length 2K

Yubin X Mreader

It was 4 pm. If all went well, you’d be at your destination for the perfect view. You shut the car door and start the engine, listening to it roar. You look over at Yubin. “Ready?” 

“Ready,” she responds,  a toothy grin on her face.

“Alright, get comfortable. We’ll be driving for 12 hours and won’t make many stops.” you remind her before leaving your home and beginning your road trip. Yubin was excited about traveling with you around the northwestern part of the US. She was more than excited after you told her of the sight there. The first part of your plan was to get to your mountain resort so you could show Yubin how to snowboard. The first hour went by fast, and you both quickly grew tired of the drive, especially when you started thinking about how much longer you had. 

“You know, when you said 12 hours, I thought it wouldn’t feel like too long…I was wrong.” Yubin says as she stares out the window. 

“I told you it was going to be a long time, and unfortunately, there’s nothing of interest around here.”  

Yubin turns to you, her hands clinging to your arm. “Isn’t there something for us to do? I don’t think I’ll be able to last the entire ride in here doing nothing.” 

“I mean, you could take the wheel for a while if you want to.”

Yubin’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “Really? Can I?” she asks eagerly. You nod, and she quickly takes over the wheel. She adjusts the seat, inching it forward and raising it so she can see over the dashboard. “Let’s do this!” She exclaims, pressing the gas and causing the car to lurch forward. She looks at you with a sheepish grin. “Oops?” she chuckles. You can't help but roll your eyes and shake your head at her. 

Yubin purses her lips and lightly presses on the gas, slowly building up to the speed limit and driving along while you take your break. Yubin enjoys taking charge and following the directions you give her. Being in control of the drive there gives her a sense of purpose, but after about two hours, she tires of having to be focused. “I don’t  think I want to drive anymore.”

You chuckle, “But you said you wanted to drive earlier.”

“I take it back. Can you drive?” 

“Alright, let's pull over at the next exit. We’ll grab some snacks, and we can switch places.” Yubin accelerates, eager to switch roles as soon as possible. 

Stopping at a gas station, Yubin heads inside to get snacks for the rest of your drive while you fill-up the car. She finishes her shopping trip first, sneaking herself into the back seats and bringing them down to make an improvised bed. As she’s about to climb in, you tug at the straps of her shirt, “Not happening, get in the front.” Yubin pouts and gets in the front seat, huffing as she shuts the door.

Once you're done, you climb into the driver's seat and drive off, driving through heavily wooded areas as you contrive. The evening sky becomes dark as the thick canopy lets little light break through. Yubin spends time on her phone, switching between apps as she finds something to do. A sudden moan makes you jump, and you look over at Yubin; she has the face of someone caught watching something they shouldn’t be. “Really? Right now?”

“I have nothing to watch. I didn’t download any of my shows!” She shouts, 

“There are so many other things you can watch,” you shout back, trying to hold in your laughter. 

Yubin briefly quiets before whispering, “We haven’t done it all day.” 

“Is that what this is about?”

“Yes, you know I need to do it at least once.” 

You ruffle your hair. “We can’t really do it right now. I’m driving, and we have a schedule to stick to.” 

“At least let me have a taste; you can still drive while I do it.” You groan, knowing that Yubin would probably keep asking through the entire drive if you disagreed now.

“Alright, fine.” Yubin claps her hands before leaning over the center console. She unbuttons your jeans and pulls out your cock, licking her lips as she strokes it slowly.

“Come to mommy.” She whispers before kissing the tip, feeling it twitch against her lips. She smirks before moving down your shaft and planting soft kisses along it. You groan while trying to stay focused on driving. Luckily, no cars were around, so you had more room for errors. You looked down, watching Yubin’s head bob up and down as she used her tongue along the tip.

You felt her slowly building up to more, taking in more of your cock. You groan loudly as your cock hits the back of her throat. Yubin holds herself against your crotch, her tongue moving from side to side. You place one hand on Yubin’s head and push her down further, moaning her name as you feel her tighten her throat around your cock. “Shit,” you grunt, struggling to keep from cumming this instant. Yubin pulls away, smiling as she strokes your shaft.

“Cum for me; I want to taste it,” she whispers into your ear before dragging her tongue along it. Yubin kisses your cheek before swallowing your cock again, her lips forming a tight seal around your shaft as her tongue swirls around the head. You groan, your hips bucking instinctively as you try to keep control of the car. You feel Yubin hold you down as she continues to bob her head, hungry for something to eat. 

You roar as you cum inside her mouth. Yubin runs her hand along the base of your shaft, stroking you quickly in hopes of getting as much cum from you as possible. Her mouth quickly fills with your cum. She moans, enjoying the taste as it hits her tongue and swallowing as much as possible. Her cheeks hollow out as she sucks you dry, ensuring not a single drop escapes. She pulls back, licking her lips and smiling. “Ah! That was great,” She says, stretching her arms and leaning back in her seat. She glances at your lip cock, her eyes wandering up slowly until she reaches your face. “You know, I ought to thank you for driving the rest of the night. I have just the reward. You can use me anytime you want, anytime.” Yubin repeats. “I wouldn’t mind waking up with you inside me,” she says with a smirk as she adjusts herself in her seat. “Whatever you decide, I won’t mind,” Yubin shuts her eyes and smiles to herself as you continue driving. You pay her no mind continuing onward. 

Yubin falls asleep some hours later. You glance in her direction whenever she rolls from one side to the other. During one of her rolls, you notice that one of her straps has rolled down her shoulder, giving you a view of her cleavage. It makes your cock stir as you imagine her tits. The next time she rolls over, Yubin turns away from you, and you see her shorts have ridden up, showing off her plump ass. You’re hard and struggle to keep your eyes away from Yubin’s body. Her words ring in your mind now, “I wouldn’t mind waking up with you inside me.” It gnaws at you for a while before you decide to pull over, hiding yourself on the roadside. You move to Yubin’s side of the car and take her into the back, where she had made the backseats a bed. You place Yubin on her stomach and pull down her shorts. You stare at Yubin’s thong, debating whether you should continue before deciding that you should. You pull it down slowly, leaving them around her thighs. You stare at Yubin’s ass running your hands along it and squeezing it softly. You notice her wet cunt and move toward it, lifting her hips and moving your arm around her waist. You rub her cunt slowly, moving your fingers around her clit. You hear her breathing get heavier, and as you continue, you hear Yubin softly moan your name as she sleeps. You slip a finger inside her, feeling her warm walls squeeze your fingers as you stretch her out. Yubin’s breathing turns into soft moans as you toy with her. 

You can’t hold back any longer, though; you replace your finger with the real thing, pushing your cock inside Yubin slowly until you buried inside her. Yubin’s moans continue as you begin thrusting. You move slowly, trying not to wake Yubin. Your grip her waist gently and push your length inside her slippery cunt. You moan Yubin’s name as you move inside her. Her sleeping form turns you on more as she takes your cock easily. 

You feel her tighten around you, though, and it drives you mad. You try to keep your slow pace, but can’t you begin thrusting harder and faster, ramming your cock deep into Yubin’s cunt. Yubin begins to stir slowly, moans still flowing from her lips as she begins to realize what’s happening; a smile forms on her lips as she feels your cock knock against her womb. “Thanks for the wake-up, big boy.” She says, placing her hand over her stomach and feeling your cock move around inside her. The thought of you using her while she slept pushes Yubin to the edge, and after a few more thrusts, she cums on your cock, moaning loudly as her walls tighten around you.

You groan, feeling your climax approach. Flipping Yubin onto her back, you start thrusting into her again, wanting to watch her face as you cum inside her. You thrust wildly, Yubin’s cunt squeezing you as you flood her body with pleasure. Her moans become louder, and she wraps her legs and arms around you, forcing you deeper into her cunt. As you near your orgasm, Yubin’s walls begin to tighten around you again, and she screams, “I’m cumming!” her body begins to convulse as you bury yourself inside of her and flood her pussy with your cum. Yubin lets out a silent moan as her head tilts back; her body shakes as she feels your hot semen pour into her. Minutes pass as you remain buried inside her. You kiss Yubin softly, caressing her hair as you both cool off. You pull out of Yubin slowly, reach toward the front seats, grab a water bottle, and hand it to her. She sips the water as she remains lying on her back. “That felt great; my body is still tingling.”

“Yeah, it was really good,” you say, breathing heavily. You lean over and kiss Yubin's forehead, smiling at her. “Let’s rest for a few more minutes before we get going again. We need to get to our hotel on time. Yubin nods, and the two of you stay in the back for ten minutes before getting dressed.

You get back on the road and continue your drive. Yubin stays awake, keeping you company and chatting with you. There was about one more hour of driving left when she reached over and tried to fish your cock out of your pants. “Hey, not now.” You try to tell her, but Yubin argues back, eventually getting you to pull over. “It’s not safe, and we’ve already done enough.”

“You weren’t complaining when I was giving you a blowjob yesterday,” she retorts as she climbs over to your side, moving the seat back. She grabs your cock and slips it inside her cunt, moaning softly. “There we go,” she coos. “I want to get you ready for the hotel because I want you to fuck me silly when we get there.” 

“Ugh, fine,” you agree reluctantly. Yubin smiles and presses her ass against you, grinding on you as you drive the remaining hour. Each little bump on the road caused her to bounce on your cock, making her more hungry for what was to come at your hotel.

[otwondergirls]

[fre-sitas]

𓋼𓍊 ˳♬ 🍏 ☘️ 🌀 ࿀࿁

🍀🐌 ˳ *ﾟ angelitoO ° ͟ ᩠𓋼🎹ﾟ

[imnayeons]

dreamcatcher's dami for anon

[inumakkin]

Yay Malewife shj

[sunmi-s]

Yubin x Sunye x Sunmi Wonder Girls mini reunion (2024)

[yubinism]

im seo in luv with this

⍝◜ᐢ•⚇•ᐢ◝⍝

slowly falling in love with changbin !

a/n: need him to wrap his arm around my throat ✋🙂‍↕️

fake text m.list ☁︎⋅

[sekaiichi-happy]

CLASSIFIED 2024, Oh My Girl

[jooyeonsblr]

ʚɞ

[wenusedits]

like or reblog

[yubinism]

looking forward to this !!

✩࿐࿔ behind the scenes

you hated nothing more than pretty faces that cant act, but lee minho could act, and thats what pisses you off even more. every time you two crossed paths it was a cat fight waiting to happen, so when your biggest acting gig in your career has you set up as his love interest, what could go wrong?

pairing: lee minho x fem!reader

genre: social media au (some written parts), enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, humour, coworkers, forced proximity, more to be added

warnings: explicit language, suggestive/death jokes, minho is slightly more famous than you, minho is a dick (but cares), yn stubborn as hell, super talented but feud makes their heads go crazy

notes: im a sucker for mean minho, like yes curse me out! starting december 1st or when i finish my other smaus whichever come first!

status: not started..

taglist: open (send a reply or an ask to be added!!)

yn's group | minho's group

1- you're shitting me

reblogs, likes and replies are appreciated! feel free to send constructive feedback/thoughts in my asks!